Chapter 4 Physical Education


“Huh? What's that?”


“Being the only one eating the side dish.”


Yi Geon couldn't understand what was being said and momentarily stared blankly.


“Are you angry?”


“What are you talking about?”


Ah! Sh*t, what do they take me for! Of course, they think it's normal for them to eat their own side dish alone.
Ah, I'm pissed, hey, am I some sort of lowlife?’


“Stealing the side dish that our parents prepared with great effort since dawn to feed their children.”


Yi Geon, feeling his pride wounded, was angry.


Of course, he had done business with the thugs in the previous round.


But he never dared to extort even a single piece of gum from ordinary people.


Having such pride, he couldn't imagine extorting things from ordinary people, let alone in his own territory.


Aside from accumulating small amounts of negative karma,


What mattered more was never losing his pride.


Could it be that in the world of Mad Max High School in 1993, it was a common practice to extort even side dishes?


Yi Geon, who had lived in an era of privacy and individualism fragmentation, couldn't understand the practice that the side dishes brought by students in their lunchboxes were considered public goods.


'Well, in this era, there are insane people who would ask you to buy two pieces of bread and two cartons of milk with 500 won, ah, I heard there was something called “Bread Shuttle” in the 2010s or 2020s.'


In the high school he attended in his first life, there was surprisingly no bread shuttle.


Instead, there were smartphone Wi-Fi shuttles using unlimited data plans.


Moreover, there were game farming shuttles, insult-bearing chat shuttles, and assignment shuttles.


In a way, during the time Yi Geon attended school, it seemed as if he had exploited his classmates inhumanely by skillfully mentally abusing them.


In the late 2020s, if you did such things at school, you'd go straight to jail with lawsuits and complaints.


The perpetrators' parents also had to sell their belongings to compensate for the damages, so it disappeared like a lie.


Considering that, it seems that there might have been bread shuttles in some schools in 1993 or when Yi Geon attended school.


Could it be that the current bread shuttle is a milder taste compared to the cunning human slave shuttle during Yi Geon's school meal days?


'Ah, sh*t, it's annoying.
So, that bastard Sang-du looked at me as a bread shuttle.
Hah, I can't believe this guy.'


Having regressed to his high school days in someone else's body, Yi Geon felt like he was experiencing all sorts of strange events.


In his first life, during the school meals, there wasn't a single student in the entire school who dared to pick a fight.


If there had been someone trying to turn him into a bread shuttle, their spine would have been bent in half before they even tried.


'Ah, back then, in my first year of high school, I was 186 cm tall, and I had trained my backhand quite a bit, so I was a tough guy.'


In the second life, he needed to start training his backhand with a live tree and a wet towel.


But instead of his backhand, it was his wrist that ached just from being slapped with one school meal.


It meant that his bones were weak and he hadn't trained at all.


'Have I not even been sent to a taekwondo studio with this body? Oh, f*cking wooden spoon.'


Yi Geon didn't know that in this era, Taekwondo schools were actually quite rare.


Instead of the infinite competition society's multiplex that taught English, math, shooting, and eloquence, it was a time when Taekwondo was taught in its raw, uncompetitive form.




The door opened, and a group of burly guys suddenly barged into the classroom.


“Ah, shit! Which bastard is Yi Geon? Come out, you bastard!”


After shouting loudly, the bully kicked the desk in front of him.
The nerdy student sitting in the front row with thick glasses fell over along with the desk, spilling his lunchbox.


“I'm Yi Geon, but who are you?”


“Ha! You're the one who dared to stand up to Sang-du?”


“Do you want to die?”


“You're the one who wants to die, coming into someone else's class and causing trouble.”


“Ah, you little bastard! You're dead, you little shit!”


With the typical bully's signature set of nonsense talk and reckless actions, the guy suddenly stepped on the desk and leaped.


Aiming for the height difference between him and Yi Geon, he kicked with the experience of a street fighter.
Yi Geon quickly propped his left hand on the ground and whipped his leg like a whip.




With a single scream, the guy rolled forward like a tumbleweed.
His leg had been caught by Yi Geon's Capoeira spinning front kick.


“Ha ha ha, were you an armadillo in your previous life? You're kind of fast.”




The guy quickly got up, raised his guard, and threw a straight punch.
Yi Geon simultaneously stretched out his leg horizontally with a knee snap, pushed his ankle forward, and extended his toes.




A penetrating front kick, like a drill, buried itself into the guy's abdomen, close to his solar plexus.
It was different from the Taekwondo-style kick with the instep.


The unique penetrating momentum of mixed martial arts was fully imbued in the kick.
The front drill toe kick completely shook the guy's innards.


Ugh~ Ugh!


The guy vomited his lunch on the floor.
The agonizing pain that seemed to tear his intestines was too intense even for a seasoned mixed martial artist to bear.


Writhing in pain, the guy continued to vomit bile and stomach contents onto the floor.


“Ah, disgusting.”




Unconsciously, the guy at the back, Sang-du, retreated step by step.


He knew that Yi Geon's slaps were powerful, but he didn't know that his kicks also had such monstrous strength.


what's up with that guy?”


“What do you mean? It's Yi Geon from Class 5 of the first year.
Hey, you guys, come here.”




“Should I go?”


“Ah, shit! Let's go!”


The group rushed toward Yi Geon all at once.


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In an instant, the sound of five punches and kicks echoed in the air, and the group that had rushed towards Yi Geon fell to the ground one by one.


'Ah, it hurts.
Why am I so weak?'


Yi Geon looked at the fallen guys and swallowed his pain.


After suddenly kicking several people in mid-air, his whole body's muscles and joints ached.


In 1993, the era was characterized by rough and rugged growth compared to the smartphone generation.
He had heard that it was difficult to survive without exercise.


It seemed like the original owner of his body had never tried any exercise.


Yi Geon couldn't help but scoff at his own reflection, his face covered in blue paint.


“Hey, get a grip, will you?”


“Sh- Shut up!”


Suddenly, the muscular figure stood up and tried to tackle Yi Geon.
Yi Geon swiftly shifted his weight forward and applied a guillotine choke.


The opponent's neck muscles were incredibly thick.
Even in a near-choking state, he attempted to lift Yi Geon.
Yi Geon, realizing his strength, bent one knee and kept moving his feet to maintain his balance, preventing the attacker from lifting him up.


'He's the strongest one here! What kind of strength is this?'


Had he trained in amateur wrestling? Even with his neck bent forward, his strength was no joke.
To stand a chance against Yi Geon, he possessed considerable power and core strength.
Fortunately, the opponent seemed unprepared for jiu-jitsu and judo techniques.


As the attacker's strength faded, Yi Geon tested his consciousness by lifting one of his arms.
After confirming his unconsciousness twice, Yi Geon released the guillotine choke.


“Hey, is this guy the toughest one in your school?” Yi Geon asked Sang-du, who had been watching from a distance.
Sang-du hesitated, taking a few steps back in surprise.


“What? What's a 'toughest one'?”


“Aren't you guys the top fighters in your school?”


“What's a top fighter?”


“Ah, right, it's 1993.”


The term “top fighter” might have been called something else in 1993.


“What do you guys call yourselves then? School gangsters or something?”


“We're in a circle.”


“Ah, a circle.”


Back then, the Korean term for “circle” was used instead of “club” or “organization.”


As the remaining members hesitantly stood up, Yi Geon asked, “So, who's the leader among you?”


“That's me,” answered a guy named Sang-il, who was the first to charge at Yi Geon earlier.
He was still clutching his stomach, grimacing in pain.




His expression seemed to suggest, 'How could it be you?' Sang-il's face flushed red.


“I am the shield and spear that protects Chunggong High School, the president of Hwagok-dong’s Fire Extinguisher.”


Yi Geon burst out laughing.
Fire Extinguisher! Hahaha!”


The circle's name, Hwagok-dong’s Fire Extinguisher, sounded so outdated and hilarious to Yi Geon.


Ah, right, it's 1993.
The name was so ridiculous that it made him laugh uncontrollably.
After laughing for a while, Yi Geon finally regained his composure.


“Alright, first, you guys clean up the mess you made.
Sang-il, you will write a statement according to the Six-Point Principle.
Got it?”


“What statement?”


“Do you want another beating?”


About attacking you?”


Yi Geon's patience was slowly wearing thin with the guy who couldn't understand what he was saying.


This is why these arrogant fools never learn unless they are given a warning.


“Every time I eat lunch, how would you feel if I went to your desk, opened the classroom door, and flipped your desk? Want to give it a try and see how disgusting it feels?” Yi Geon whispered menacingly.


Only then did Sang-il glance at the overturned desk in front of him.
The student whose uniform was drenched in kimchi soup had a tearful expression.


“Alright, fine.”


“And apologize.
Bring the poor guy a spare gym uniform quickly, and buy two chocolate milks and two pieces of bread from the school store.
He couldn't even eat his lunch because of you.
Ugh, the smell of kimchi soup.
I'll charge you separately for laundry costs.”


“No, Geon, I'm fine,” the kimchi soup student said, worried about possible repercussions.


“Ah, shut up! What's fine about it? You should write a statement too, following the Five Ws and One H.
State the time and how you were eating when someone caused you to be covered in kimchi soup.”




“You too, write it, you jerk! Sang-du, you write one too, and Won-il, you write one as well.
Bring them to me before school ends today.
If you don't want to face my wrath.”




Yi Geon instructed them to write a statement to make sure they didn't harass their classmates behind his back.
It was a precaution to prevent any further trouble.
Yi Geon was thorough when it came to these matters, just as he had been in his first life as a nationwide troublemaker.


“Ah, shit!”


The muscular guy who had just regained consciousness cursed as he got up.
Yi Geon gestured to him and said to Sang-il, “Take him with you.”


“Alright, Dong-pal, let's go.”


“Let me go! I want to fight that bastard!”


“Hey, don't! You'll get killed.”


Dong-pal charged like an enraged bull.
Sang-il tried to hold him back by the waist, but he was dragged along helplessly.


“Dong-pal, was it? Hey, Sang-il, let him go for another round.
Hey, hey! Let him go!”


Yi Geon was annoyed by Dong-pal, who still hadn't come to his senses.
When Sang-il released him, Dong-pal stopped in his tracks.


With a clear and innocent gaze, he looked at Yi Geon's eyes for the first time and hesitated.




“What? Shithead?”


“Leave me alone; I'm tired.
Shoo, dung-fly!”


Yi Geon dismissively waved his hand as if shooing a bug.
For a moment, Dong-pal glared at Geon with an intimidating look, but suddenly turned his head and stormed out of the classroom.


“Get out of my way, you shits!”


Frightened by Dong-pal's aggressive breathing, everyone stepped back.


“He listens well…
that dung-pal.”


Yi Geon snickered and closed his eyes, resting his head on the desk.


“Ah, damn it, I'm hungry.
Meat! Am I a cow? God, please!”


His stomach growled loudly.


“I'm sorry!”


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