Reality Quest: Questism

Run.

That was the only thought in my head as my feet slammed against the dirt path, Ahrin right beside me. The quiet night had turned into a storm of noise—shouts, pounding footsteps, the metallic clatter of weapons shifting in grip.

Ahrin was fast, but so were they.

I risked a glance behind us. The fifty-strong group of delinquent bastards were closing in, their silhouettes flickering in and out of the dim light cast by the distant festival.

Too many.

If we kept running, they'd catch up.

If we kept running, Ahrin wouldn't get away.

I made my decision.

"Go!" I shouted, grabbing her wrist and shoving her forward.

She stumbled but turned back immediately. "Dowan–"

"Run, Ahrin!"

Her eyes flashed with hesitation, but she wasn't stupid. She clenched her jaw, turned on her heel, and sprinted toward the tombs in the distance.

Good.

I turned back just as the first guy swung.

CLANG!

I barely dodged the metal pipe, ducking low as it whistled past my ear. I slammed my foot forward, smashing it into his knee, he yelped, falling sideways, but before I could follow up, a large guy with a scowl was already on me.

I twisted, throwing up my arms to block his punch and then twisted my limbs over his arm, throwing him behind me.

Too many. Too fast. Too heavy.

I shifted backward, dodging another swing from someone behind me. My mind was running through options, calculations… how many seconds did Ahrin need to get out of here? How long could I stall?

Another hit came, aimed for my ribs, I twisted my body just enough to let it graze past me, but my balance slipped.

The bigger guy saw it.

And he swung.

CRACK.

The impact sent me sprawling. My back slammed against the cold ground, my breath torn from my lungs. The hit wasn't strong enough to actually cause pain but without somewhere to brace my feet… without balance… I wouldn't be able to fight this many people.

I needed to get up. I needed to move.

I needed to be untouchable.

To the Moon.

The moment the card activated, power surged through my legs. Even from flat on my back, I launched myself skyward, rocketing above their heads. The wind roared in my ears as I twisted midair, locking onto the bastard who'd knocked me down.

I brought my right arm back… every ounce of strength I had coiled into the strike.

And then I swung.

BOOM.

The earth shook as his skull smashed into the dirt. The soft ground cratered beneath him, grass and soil splitting apart from the impact. His body twitched once. Then his eyes rolled back, and he went completely still.

Silence.

Not a single one of them moved.

I stood, rolling my shoulders, letting the dust settle. My gaze swept over the crowd, my voice coming out cold.

"None of you… are getting past me."

A quiet chuckle from the man at the front drew my attention

He adjusted his glasses slowly, the moonlight catching on the thin frames. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Hmm? But it seems… Paljeong already did."

My breath caught.

I whirled around, scanning the area-

The Leader was gone.

My stomach dropped.

No. No, no, no—

His voice cut through my panic. Smooth. Almost mocking.

"You really do have the worst luck, you know?" He exhaled, feigning disappointment. "Of all the people to go after that girl… it had to be him."

I turned back, my hands clenching into fists. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He gave me a pitying look.

"He was in juvie, you know."

My pulse roared in my ears.

"For playing around with girls."

Everything stopped.

My breathing. My thoughts.

Then-

The world snapped.

I moved.

Faster than thought. Faster than reason.

One second, he was standing.

The next, I had him by the throat.

His back slammed against the nearest hill, my forearm pressing into his windpipe. He choked, legs kicking as he tried to pry my grip loose.

The others didn't move.

They saw it in my eyes.

I wasn't holding back anymore.

"Where." My voice was ice. "Is he?"

He wheezed, clawing at my wrist. "I… I didn't see—"

I pressed harder. "Wrong answer."

His lips turned blue. His nails dug into my skin, his body thrashing.

I should've snapped his neck.

But I didn't have time.

Not now.

Not when Ahrin—

A distant scream.

Ahrin's scream.

I ran.

I didn't think. I didn't breathe.

I moved.

The tombs blurred past me, the scent of damp earth and crushed grass filling my lungs. Every step hammered against the ground, the sound drowned out by the roaring in my ears.

She's in trouble.

She's in trouble.

She's in trouble.

Then—

A wall of bodies.

The bastards blocked my path, shifting into formation like they'd been waiting for this exact moment. A dozen delinquents, maybe more… spreading out in front of me, their grips tightening around bats, pipes, and knuckles wrapped in tape.

I didn't stop.

One lunged, I stepped forward, grabbed his wrist, and snapped it sideways. The sickening crack of bone echoed through the air.

Another swung a bat… I ducked, driving my knee into his ribs. He crumpled, wheezing.

I twisted, grabbing the next guy by the collar and slamming his face into my knee. Blood sprayed across the dirt.

But it wasn't enough.

For every one I took down, two more stepped in.

And behind them, Paljeon was gone.

My jaw clenched.

She was alone with him.

I needed to get through. Now.

I gritted my teeth, fists tightening. If I had to tear through all of them, I would.

And then—

"Dowan!"

A voice.

Jihan's voice.

I barely had time to register it before he appeared out of nowhere.

One second, he wasn't there. The next, he was sprinting towards me, eyes wide with panic. Of all the times!

"What's going on?!" he demanded, skidding to a stop beside me.

I barely spared him a glance, my chest heaving.

"Ahrin." My voice was hoarse. "She's in danger."

Jihan looked past me, his gaze sweeping over the wreckage… the bodies I had already torn through, the ones still standing, weapons gripped tight, and the ones who weren't afraid.

His face twitched.

Not with hesitation. Not with fear.

Something else.

Now, there was something different in his eyes.

Something cracking open.

"…Do you know where she is?"

I blinked. That voice. It was still Jihan's, but not the one I was used to. Steadier. Sharper.

"The general direction, yeah."

Jihan exhaled. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. Then he stepped past me.

"Then I'll stop these ones from moving. You go."

I froze.

"Jihan, you can't fi—"

A pulse.

A deep, gut-wrenching feeling, like the moment before a storm. The Quest Window's chime sounded and a window appeared.

[Jihan's potential is throbbing]

My stomach dropped. What did that even-

There was nothing timid in his expression now. No shyness, no awkwardness. Just a look I had never seen on him before. It was resolve.

No… it was defiance.

He met my gaze, and for the first time, Jihan wasn't backing down.

"Go!"

My breath caught.

And then—I ran.

***

Dowan was gone.

Jihan exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the moment settle onto his shoulders.

He had spent years avoiding fights. Letting the hits land. Letting people step over him. It was easier that way.

Because if he fought back…

If he fought back, then the memories would come rushing back too. The laughter. The jeering. The way his mother had collapsed in the school office.

"You think you can fight, Jihan? Then fight back, huh? Go on."

He never did.

He had trained endlessly, crammed every single martial art into his body, technique after technique drilled into his very bones… but when it counted, he froze.

Like he was still that kid in middle school.

But now… now was different.

Ahrin was in danger.

Dowan was fighting alone.

If he didn't stand now… when would he?

Jihan lifted his head, looking at the dozens of delinquents surrounding him.

The guy with the glasses smirked. "Tch. Really think you're gonna stop us, huh?" He adjusted his frames, stepping forward. The others followed, their movements loose, casual. Confident.

Why wouldn't they be?

Jihan had never been a threat.

Jihan had never even thrown a punch.

His fingers twitched.

But that was then.

Jihan had spent his entire life learning.

Taekwondo. Boxing. Judo. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Capoeira. Krav Maga. Muay Thai. A hundred more names he had long since stopped keeping track of.

Now, his body moved on its own. His feet adjusted slightly, shifting into a solid stance. A perfect stance.

The first one rushed in.

A wild punch, careless, full of openings. Jihan's body reacted on its own. A swift pivot, a well-placed redirection… perfect technique. The guy's own momentum sent him stumbling forward, his ribs wide open.

But perfect technique wasn't enough.

Not against this many people. Not against guys like this, who didn't care about balance, form, or footwork. They only cared about brute force.

Jihan sucked in a sharp breath. He needed more.

Another one came at him… a kick this time, fast but unrefined. Jihan caught it, twisting at just the right angle to dislocate the knee. He stopped. He hesitated. Instead of breaking it, he shoved the guy away.

That hesitation would get him killed.

That hesitation was weakness.

Something burned inside him, something clawing at the edges of his mind, screaming to be let out. He clenched his jaw.

He didn't have time for this.

The hesitation crept in again, that same instinct he'd had his entire life… don't fight back. Don't escalate. Don't make them hate you more.

That instinct had been beaten into him by Gumin Lee.

He had spent years training. Cram schools, dojos, books, online videos. Every technique, every discipline. He knew them all. And yet, his hands had never once fought back.

Until now.

A kick came flying from the side. Jihan moved to intercept—too slow. The hesitation had already cost him. He barely managed to twist his body, absorbing the impact across his ribs instead of his gut.

Pain bloomed. Not enough to stop him. But enough to remind him.

That he was weak.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

No matter how much he learned. No matter how much knowledge he had. If he couldn't use it, then what the hell was the point?

Dowan was fighting for him. For Ahrin.

And Jihan was just… standing here.

Jihan Yoo is filled with conviction!

The voices clawed at the edges of his mind. Old memories.

"You're pathetic, Jihan."

"You think you're smart? Think you're better than me?"

"You're nothing. Always have been."

Jihan Yoo's potential is skyrocketing!

Something inside him snapped.

No.

Not anymore.

Jihan shut his eyes. Let it in.

A slow, deep inhale.

Jihan Yoo's potential has reached its peak!

And then—

He dropped the leash.

Like a weight lifted from his soul, like a dam breaking in his brain, the mental barriers shattered. The person he had carefully, painstakingly constructed—the quiet, polite Jihan, the Jihan who was always just a little smaller, a little less than everyone else—was gone.

The emotions that had been caged for years… **rage, hate, fear, disgust, madness…**all rushed forward at once.

Congratulations! Jihan Yoo's potential has Awakened!

The world slowed.

His breathing evened out. His heart pounded, but it wasn't from fear. It was excitement.

Jihan smiled.

Mind Control: Activated.

He opened his eyes.

And the first thing the delinquents saw was a completely different person.

The hesitance was gone. The shyness erased. His usual stiff posture had unraveled into something more fluid, more primal.

His expression was… wrong.

A wild, unsettling grin. His eyes gleamed… not with fear, not even with anger, but with something far, far worse.

Madness.

The guy in front of him took an uncertain step back.

Too late.

Jihan moved.

Not like a martial artist. Not like a fighter. Like a predator.

His hand shot out, grabbing the guy by the nose and twisting. Hard. The cartilage snapped, blood gushing instantly as the delinquent screamed. Jihan didn't let go. He yanked forward—knee straight into the jaw.

Another tried to charge him from behind.

Jihan didn't turn around.

Instead, he threw himself backward, head-first, a skull-crushing slam straight into the guy's face.

The wet crunch of breaking bone. The guy collapsed, howling in pain.

Jihan landed in a crouch, licking the blood off his lips.

More.

Someone tried to swing a pipe. Jihan sidestepped, too fast, too precise. He caught the pipe mid-air… then drove his elbow straight into the guy's throat.

A choked gasp. The delinquent hit the ground, convulsing.

Jihan tossed the pipe aside. He didn't need it.

His hands were enough.

Blood trickled down his fingers, his knuckles split from the sheer ferocity of his strikes. He didn't feel it.

Or maybe he just didn't care.

The remaining delinquents had stopped moving.

Jihan turned to them, his breath slow, controlled. He wiped the blood off his cheek with the back of his hand.

And then, with a wide, bloodthirsty grin–

"I'm going to crack all of your fucking heads open!~"

⚪ ⚫ 

[Name: Yoo Jihan]

[Height: 175 cm]

[Weight: 65 kg]

[Strength: SSR+] up!

[Speed: SR+] up!

[Potential: B] Awakened!

[Intelligence: S+]

[Endurance: SR+] up!

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On Friday I'm going on holiday for a few days so obviously I won't be able to update. Fortunately for you guys however, I'll be posting 4 chapters tomorrow to make up for that.

You better enjoy it.

And you can thank me by leaving a review.

Please... I just want to see a rating on my fic... I JUST WANNA SEE A RATING ON MY-

Ahem, my apologies.

Have a good day.