Weak Class of Anti-Hero
Chapter 24: The Father

Chapter 24: The Father

I fell asleep on the couch, exhausted, with the TV still on.

The next morning, I was awakened by insistent knocking on the door.

I groaned, still half asleep. Who could it be? Min-Soo? Mrs. Park?

I opened the door, my eyes still puffy with sleep.

And my blood ran cold.

The man standing on the landing... I knew him. I hadn’t seen him in eight years, but I would recognize him anywhere.

It was my father.

All my fatigue vanished, replaced by a pure, instinctive rage. Before he could even open his mouth, I punched him.

My fist flew on its own. A direct hit, loaded with eight years of anger and abandonment.

The man was completely surprised. He didn’t have time to react. The blow hit him square in the chest, sending him flying backward. He tumbled down the stairs and crashed onto the hood of a car parked below, setting off its alarm.

I walked down, trembling with fury.

"You dirty bastard!" I screamed. "You’re coming back now? After eight years? Where were you, huh? While she was sick, while we were starving?"

My father got up, wincing. He rubbed his chest, looking more surprised than hurt.

He looked at me with a small smirk. "Wow. You’ve become a real tough guy, son."

"Don’t call me that!"

"Calm down," he said, raising his hands. "I just wanted to stop by. For your birthday."

Birthday? I looked at the date on a phone screen in a shop window. It was today. I had completely forgotten.

"I don’t care," I spat.

He looked toward the apartment. His smile vanished. "Alright. Enough games. Where’s your mother? Where’s Seo-Yeon?"

I held his gaze, and I let the words out, cold and hard as stones.

"She’s dead."

The news of my mother’s death wiped the smirk off my father’s face. A real, deep sadness settled in his eyes.

Later, we sat on a bench in the small neighborhood park. The silence was heavy.

"I’m sorry, Ji-Hoon," he finally said. "I didn’t know. I... I should have been there."

"Why weren’t you?" I asked, my voice emotionless.

He sighed, a tired sound. "It’s complicated. You remember, before I left, I often came home late? I told you it was work."

I nodded.

"The truth is, I was also affected by the Fertile Explosion. I developed a fairly powerful ability. The Apex academy recruited me. First as a consultant, then as a professor."

My eyes widened. My father, a professor at Apex?

"But there was something else," he continued. "A secret organization, linked to the government. They discovered that we could use the cells of dead creatures from the breaches to... improve ourselves. To become more than human. It was dangerous. They needed volunteers."

He looked at his hands. "Eight years ago, they discovered a major breach. A gate to another dimension. We were sent on a mission. A mission that was supposed to last a year, maybe two."

He shook his head. "We were trapped there. We fought for nearly five years. Most of us didn’t make it back."

"When we finally managed to return, I was... different. Stronger." He looked at me. "I’m an S-rank hero now."

I was stunned. My father, this ghost from my past, was one of the most powerful people in the world.

"Me too," I whispered. "I joined Apex."

So, I told him everything. My life. My mother. The F-rank. The dagger. Yoo-Na. The slaughter in the Pit. The S-rank monster. Everything.

He listened without interrupting, his expression changing from surprise to worry, then to a kind of dark pride.

When I finished, he remained silent.

"An F-rank becoming a C-rank in a few weeks..." he finally said. "That dagger... it’s more special than you think, kid."

We got up and started walking aimlessly through the streets of Gwanak-gu. The initial shock had given way to a strange kind of normality.

"Tell me, Ji-Hoon," my father began, his tone becoming more like a teacher’s than a father’s. "You know the basics of Aura, I assume?"

"I had theory classes on it," I replied, remembering the sleepless nights with Min-Soo. "Energy flow, signatures, that kind of stuff."

He nodded. "Theory is good. But application is something else. Did they teach you the four pillars?"

I frowned. "The four pillars?"

"Attack, Defense, Reinforcement, and Regeneration," he explained. "Most students learn to use their Aura for only one thing: to attack. That’s what 99% of the Awakened do. But real fighters, A-ranks and above, know that Aura is a universal tool."

He continued, his voice passionate. "You can use it to create an invisible defensive barrier around yourself. To reinforce your muscles and bones, increasing your speed and strength. And even to accelerate your own regeneration, healing minor wounds in seconds. It’s the mastery of these four applications that separates the amateurs from the professionals."

"I didn’t know that," I admitted.

"That’s normal. It’s a lesson reserved for the upper classes. But... I will teach you. Another time," he said, his expression turning darker again.

He stopped and looked at me, a deep sadness in his eyes.

"For now... take me to see your mother. Tell me where my wife’s grave is."

I didn’t know the exact location. The hospital services had arranged everything. I had to make a few calls, giving my mother’s name and my identity. Finally, we were given the address.

A small public cemetery on the outskirts of the city, nestled on a hillside.

We took a taxi. The silence in the car was heavy. My father stared out the window, his face a canvas of regret.

We found her grave easily. It was a simple stone, in a row of other identical stones. There was no name engraved yet. Just a plot number.

There were no flowers. Nothing. She was alone.

My father walked up to it. He placed his hand on the cold stone. He stood there, motionless, for a long time. The wind rustled the leaves in the trees around us.

I stayed back, giving him his moment. It was his grief, not mine. My grief was different. It was made of rage and promises of revenge.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low.

"I’m sorry, Seo-Yeon. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry for everything."

He took something out of his pocket. A small white flower, simple and elegant. I don’t know where he got it from. He placed it gently on the mound of dirt.

"I’ll take care of him now," he whispered to the grave. "I promise."

Then, he turned to me. His eyes were red, but he wasn’t crying.

"Let’s go," he said. "Your training starts today."

He didn’t take me to an academy training hall. He took me to a much stranger place.

An abandoned demolition site, in the middle of an industrial zone. Building carcasses, piles of rubble, and twisted steel bars.

"The perfect place," he said. "No one will bother us here."

He stood in front of me. "Forget everything you learned at Apex. Forget the duels, the rules, the points. Here, only one thing matters: survival."

"We’ll start with Defense," he announced. "The most important and most neglected thing. Circulate your Aura. Don’t project it. Don’t use it to attack. Feel it. Let it flow around your body, like a second skin."

I tried. I closed my eyes and focused. I felt my Aura, that cold, dark energy. I tried to make it leave my body, not as an attack, but as a shield. It was difficult. It was like trying to hold water in your hands.

"More subtle," my father said. "Don’t force it. Guide it. Imagine a thin layer of unbreakable glass on your skin."

I tried again and again. It was exhausting.

Then, without warning, he punched me.

Not an S-rank punch. Just a normal punch, but fast and precise. It hit my shoulder. I felt the pain.

"See? You’re open. Your shield isn’t there. You’re concentrating too much. It has to become a reflex. An instinct."

He continued to attack me. Quick little jabs, flicks, and shoves. Not to hurt me, but to test me. To force me to maintain that invisible barrier.

Every time I lost focus, I felt an impact.

For hours, that’s all we did. Attack. Defense. Focus.

The sun began to set, painting the sky orange and purple over the ruins of the construction site.

I was covered in sweat and bruises, but for the first time, I felt something new. A thin layer of energy, almost imperceptible, clinging to my skin.

My shield. It was starting to form.

"Enough with Defense," my father finally said as night fell. "Let’s move on to Reinforcement."

I thought we were going to take a break, but he had no intention of stopping.

"The principle is the same, but on the inside," he explained. "Instead of creating a shell on the outside, you’re going to infuse your Aura directly into your muscles, into your bones."

He picked up a twisted steel bar, about a meter long. "You’ll feel the difference."

He handed me the bar. It was heavy. I could barely lift it.

"Now, focus your Aura into the muscles of your arms. Don’t think about lifting it. Think about making your arms stronger. Denser."

I closed my eyes and tried. I felt my Aura seep into my biceps, my triceps. It was a strange sensation, as if my arms were becoming heavier, yet more solid.

"Open your eyes. Lift it."

I lifted the steel bar.

And this time, it was light. Incredibly light. I could hold it in one hand without any effort.

I looked at my arms, stunned. They hadn’t changed in appearance, but I could feel they were different. Full of power.

"That’s Reinforcement," my father said. "Now, for speed. Do the same thing with the muscles in your legs."

He pointed to a crumbling brick wall about twenty meters away. "You’re going to run to that wall. And you’re going to try to do it faster than you’ve ever run in your life."

I infused my Aura into my legs. I got into position.

"Go!"

I pushed off with my legs.

The sensation was explosive. The world became a blur. In a second, I was in front of the wall, the wind whistling in my ears. I had to stop abruptly to keep from crashing into it.

I was fast. Really fast.

I looked at my father, on the other side of the site. He had a small smile of pride.

"Not bad, kid," he said. "Not bad at all."