Their first meeting wasn't dramatic.
No explosion. No insults.
Just two people standing across the training ground.
"I'm Han Jae, provisional A-rank," the silver-haired boy said calmly.
"People say you're lucky."
Xiao Li met his gaze. "People talk too much."
Han Jae chuckled.
"I like honest people. Let's spar."
The crowd gathered instantly.
This wasn't official.
But everyone knew—this was a test.
The moment the signal sounded, Han Jae moved like lightning.
Fast. Clean. Perfect technique.
Xiao Li didn't retreat.
He stepped forward.
The clash echoed across the field.
Gasps erupted.
"They're equal?"
"No—Xiao Li's movements are strange!"
Han Jae's eyes narrowed.
He's reading me.
For the first time in years, Han Jae felt pressure.
Then Xiao Li stopped.
"Enough," he said.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Han Jae laughed softly, wiping sweat from his chin.
"…You're dangerous."
Xiao Li turned away.
A rival had appeared.