Yohan walked into the training hall, but before he could take a few steps inside, he heard footsteps following him.

He turned, expecting to see Jenna, but instead he found someone he had never seen before—a man dressed unusually official in a black shirt under a leather jacket, white trousers, red shade across his face, and white-dyed hair.

He stood casually with both hands in his pockets, yet something about him made Yohan instantly alert.

'Maybe it's because I didn't see anyone else when I was coming in' Yohan thought.

"Hey, mister, can I help you with anything?" he asked.

The man didn't answer right away. He took a moment to look around the hall, as though inspecting it.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked. His voice was rough, like that of a chronic smoker, but carried a boldness that demanded attention.

"I… don't understand?" Yohan said, confused. This guy didn't look like a staff.

"Shouldn't you introduce yourself before asking someone something like that?" Yohan added.

"You're not a student, so why did you come here?" the man continued, completely ignoring Yohan's question.

Yohan's brows drew down sharply. "How did you know I'm not a student?"

His gaze finally settled on Yohan.

"Yohan Choi. Currently working as an assistant to a professor in the dance department… I prefer knowing more about my targets, but that's all they had on you."

"Target?" Yohan latched onto the word immediately. "To do what?" he asked, shifting into a cautious stance.

"What do you think?" the man replied.

"But maybe I won't have to do anything to you," he added, his tone loosening just a little as he pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips.

"You mentioned some missing girls. What do you know about that?"

'So that's what this is about…' Yohan realized. 'He was sent after me because of what I said to Freddie yesterday'

"You know it's dangerous to go around saying things like that," the man continued. "What if someone actually takes you seriously and starts snooping around?"

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes locked on Yohan.

"Sorry, could you put that out? We're not allowed to smoke in here," Yohan said casually.

"Oh…"

The man paused, taken aback by Yohan's boldness. He knew Yohan understood the danger—and yet he was still brushing it off.

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

"Seems like you don't understand the situation you're in. Have you forgotten there's no one else here? I could easily make you disappear…"

"I'd like to see you try," Yohan said confidently.

"Listen, kid," the man sighed, "I don't know why you're so eager to throw your life away, but I'm only here to tell you to forget whatever you think you saw that night. The girls you talked about came back safely, didn't they? And they have no complaints—"

"That's because you people did something to make them forget," Yohan cut in, his fist clenching tight.

"You…" The man's brow dropped, his tone sharpening. "Who told you that?"

Yohan smirked. "And why would I tell you?"

The man grinned back, almost impressed. "Don't worry. I'll give you a reason."

He suddenly lunged, leaping forward and swinging a kick toward Yohan's face.

The strike was ridiculously fast—but Yohan ducked under it, slipping out of harm's way.

He tried to follow up with an uppercut, but the man hopped back with effortless precision, avoiding it before Yohan's fist even came up.

"Seems like there's something more to you," the man said, mildly amused.

"I simply wanted to put you on the ground so our conversation could go smoother. I didn't want to knock you out by mistake, so I held back. But the fact that you dodged that is… impressive."

Yohan was thinking the same thing. It looked like the man was simply being cautious, but for Yohan he had reacted before he could even make his move. Just that brief exchange was enough to tell him what he needed to know.

'This guy is good…'

He was skilled and probably had even more experience than Jenna.

'in that case, I have to be careful with how I attack'

It didn't matter if he was stronger or faster, Jenna had already proven to him that someone with the right skills could still take him down.

'I'll have to end this fight before he can get used to my speed and strength'

This time Yohan took the offensive, charging at the man. He threw a series of punches but the man managed to evade all of it, before widening the gap between them again.

"You're fast," the man said, "but it seems you're relying purely on natural talent. Impressive, yes—but that also means your movements are telegraphed and easy to read."

Yohan didn't wait. He lunged again.

This time the man didn't just dodge—he countered with a swift punch to Yohan's face.

Yohan staggered back a few steps.

'Shit, he's figured it out already… I have to increase the pressure'

He dove back in, a trickle of blood running from his nose. Each swing carried his full strength, but none landed. The man evaded them with almost bored efficiency.

'He knows exactly where I'm going to attack before I even move… he's reading my attacks through my muscle movements'

It was something he had heard boxers do, by observing small cues in their opponents body they predict their attacks and respond accordingly.

Professional fighters learned how to hide those cues. Yohan didn't even know what exactly he was supposed to hide.

'But maybe I can mess up his prediction…'

Yohan threw a punch—then abruptly stopped halfway and snapped his leg out instead.

The kick slammed into the man's side, forcing a grunt out of him as he stumbled backward.

The man had been fully prepared to evade the punch. He hadn't realized it was only a feint to disguise the real attack.

'With feints in the mix, his predictions won't be a hundred percent accurate anymore' Yohan reasoned.

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