Chapter 10: How I Accidentally Started a Club War

They call it the butterfly effect.

A theory that a butterfly’s wingbeat far away can cause a typhoon, that small changes can have massive impacts.

For instance, events that never happened in my past life are now occurring.

“Kang-jun! Why don’t you join us?”

Wednesday lunch.

I was eating in the student cafeteria with Cheon Yuha after finishing morning classes.

The menu was katsu steak.

While Cheon Yuha, who loved it, cleared three plates and stepped away for a refill, someone called out to me.

Who could it be? I barely had any close friends besides Cheon Yuha.

With that question, I blinked at the person approaching.

“Greetings, comrade!”

“…Uh.”

A bright, harmless smile and a muscular, chiseled frame.

Even in Seondo’s relaxed dress code, this guy always wore his uniform neatly and attended classes diligently.

Combat Department rank 12, Kim Kap-soo, the future Sword Saint, a rising star.

I had no connection with him in my current life.

Though we shared Korean heritage, we were in different classes and used different weapons.

Kim Kap-soo wielded a sword, I used fists and feet.

So, he took Introduction to Weaponry, while I took Introduction to Bare-Hand Combat.

In my past life, we crossed paths maybe five or six times.

Despite attending the same school, we had little contact.

The campus was vast, and we only occasionally met in the cafeteria or hallways.

I thought it’d be the same this time, but…

“Kang-jun! Let’s start a club!”

“…A club?”

Apparently not.

“They say the club registration period ends this Friday! Our school’s so global, there aren’t many Koreans, right? So, I took the lead! Look, here’s the application form!”

“….”

Kim Kap-soo beamed like a blazing sun.

Good lord, another hot-blooded type after Cheon Yuha?

Feeling queasy from his extroverted energy, I cautiously took the paper.

[101st Korean Friendship Association]

[A club founded to honor the spirit, culture, and essence of Korea, now a distant homeland. From watching K-dramas to visiting cultural heritage sites like Gyeongbokgung and Jongmyo…]
[President: Kim Kap-soo]

[Members: -]

“…What the hell is this?”

I clutched my head, feeling dizzy.

Was there such a thing in my past life?

I must’ve missed it, cooped up in the training room all day.

‘…How many Koreans are in this batch?’

From hazy memory, there were about ten in the Combat Department alone.

That’s one or two per class.

So why a club?

“…And why is there no one else listed?”

Why am I the first?

Narrowing my eyes with unease, I stared at Kim Kap-soo’s relentless grin.

He clenched his fist and declared boldly, as if he had no shame.

“Because I just founded it! I submitted the application to the administration and came to eat, only to meet a compatriot—fate, isn’t it?!”

“…Honestly, I don’t think I’ll have time for a club.”

“No worries! Just put your name on the roster and drop by whenever you feel like it. We’re a nation of jeong (bond), right?”

Muttering “Right?” with intense eyes, Kim Kap-soo pressured me.

Just as I was about to refuse, feeling this would be a hassle, Cheon Yuha returned with a katsu steak plate piled with salad and started making a fuss about joining.

“I’m in! Me too!”

You’re not even Korean.

But Cheon Yuha wasn’t the type to care about trivial things like nationality.

According to her, borders don’t exist between friends.

“It’s just three years of school life! Shouldn’t we try everything, like clubs?”

Her rare sensible words made it hard to argue I was too busy cultivating.

‘…Three years of school life, huh.’

To survive those three years, I had to avoid expulsion first.

I needed to build my inner energy to reach peak level.

But lately, I’d been anxious about my inner energy, and experience told me I needed to stay calm in times like this.

‘Mess up, and you’ll face qi deviation.’

Yeah, I needed a breather, even if just for a bit.

It’s not like I’d be super active in a club focused on K-culture.

So, Cheon Yuha and I compromised, joining as occasional members.

We also made a private agreement to go somewhere together.

“Oh, nice! Broadening your horizons comes from seeing the world! Where are you planning to go?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Secret realms with intricate formations, dungeons with massive beasts—premium destinations for rewards, training, and a stroll.

But for some reason, I felt I shouldn’t mention it now.

‘…Her eyes are sparkling too much.’

It wasn’t planned, but seeing a path to elixirs made it a satisfying deal.

She’d probably go if I just asked, but it’s better to have some give-and-take.

Two days later, it was Friday.

Since joining, I hadn’t heard from Kim Kap-soo, so I figured it’d come up later.

No big deal starting a club for fun at school, right?

No need to contact him first.

Or so I thought.

“…Damn.”

[37 Missed Calls – Kim Kap-soo, Cheon Yuha…]

I let my guard down for a moment.

Seondo’s students receive countless benefits: penthouse dorms, unlimited enchanted uniforms, and lectures from top-tier faculty.

Plus, a cafeteria with elite chefs, meticulously built training and forging rooms, and cutting-edge facilities.

They pour support and perks into ensuring teenagers in a growth-demanding environment don’t lose interest.

Clubs were no exception.

The school promised maximum support for 20 official clubs each year.

As long as they didn’t harm anyone or disrupt the academic schedule, almost anything was allowed.

—But only for the 20 official clubs.

Every year, the student council rigorously reviewed clubs to ensure proper activity.

They demoted or disbanded five underperforming clubs as temporary clubs.

In their place, five new clubs were selected from the many founded annually.

Fates often depended on the entrance scores of club members.

For example…
[Club: Meditation – Head: Ki Shin]

A club solely for meditation with an equally dull activity plan.

But the student council officer, seeing the applicant’s top entrance score, stamped approval immediately.

Boom!

Only four spots remained for official clubs.

“We did well last year.”

“Show me the plan.”

“…Here.”

“This is actually good? Okay, approved.”

One spot was taken by Hunting, a temporary club demoted last year that had been waiting for its chance.

Only three spots left.

Then, the second-ranked student—Class 2’s “Angel”—applied for Genesis, a club exploring Seondo’s remote areas and secret realms.

Class 6—Hell Path’s entire cohort formed Hell Path, a 50-member club to endure hell together.

And Kujo Kisara, rank 4 from Class 4, founded Empire to celebrate Japanese culture.

It seemed these three would take the spots.

That is, until Wednesday evening, when the 101st Korean Friendship Association submitted its application.

“…Combat Department rank 3, Heavenly Demon Cult’s young leader, Cheon Yuha, in the Korean Friendship Association.”

Cheon Yuha wasn’t the president or Korean, but to the score-obsessed student council, that didn’t matter.

Boom—Boom—Boom!

Following tradition prioritizing members’ scores, Genesis (second-ranked), Hell Path (ranks 6 and 7), and 101st Korean Friendship Association (rank 3 Cheon Yuha) were approved as official clubs.

Thursday morning, Kujo Kisara, hearing the news, thought:

‘Are they insane?’

Recalling Seondo’s tradition, she filed an objection with the student council.

And Seondo’s student council gladly accepted valid objections.

—The principal decreed: All matters are settled by fighting well.

If strength and scores ruled, then settle it with a fight.

Thus, Seondo’s unique, insane negotiation method, Brawl, was set.

—Attention: A battle will take place on campus starting Friday at 6 p.m. Please do not be alarmed and evacuate. Again, starting Friday at 6 p.m…

Per the rules, Empire announced the impending clash with the other club across campus 24 hours in advance.

Even at the scheduled time, if the opponent didn’t make eye contact for five seconds or expressed refusal, no attack would occur.

But the fight was never delayed indefinitely.

Avoiding battle without offering an alternative meant defeat, so the 101st Korean Friendship Association eventually stopped dodging and accepted the fight.

And the result:

“Haha, sorry for calling you out so late…”

Seeing me glare, Kim Kap-soo scratched his cheek awkwardly, looking embarrassed.

His left arm was in a cast, making his free right arm stand out unnaturally.

Taking in the pitiful sight, I scanned the defeated remnants around us.

The 101st Korean Friendship Association members, without Cheon Yuha, were all Korean.

Every one of them had gauze on their faces or limbs in casts.

I’d rushed over after checking my terminal, only to find this mess.

‘They got completely wrecked.’

Even a stranger could see the gloom on their faces.

Except for Kim Kap-soo, they were all mid-to-low-tier cadets, ranked below 100.

On the other side, Kujo Kisara, the president, was transcendent, and her two subordinates were peak-level warriors on the cusp of that wall—an overwhelming gap in strength.

“…I thought we could at least hold them back, but even that was tough.”

Kim Kap-soo’s bitter expression made me feel pity, but it was an expected loss.

A first-class beating a peak-level warrior was rare; a peak-level beating a transcendent was even rarer.

It was practically impossible.

‘How do you break through protective qi?’

But I had no intention of blaming them for fighting recklessly.

…That Korea-Japan War the assassin mentioned.

I’d been training late last night and went to the training room early this morning, cultivating all day, so I had no clue.

With no real classes, I didn’t bother checking my terminal, left it in the dorm, and saw the messages too late.

‘Oh no…’

Even as a ghost member who only lent my name, I felt guilty for chilling while they got pummeled.

How could I tell them to give up the club for fighting recklessly?

“Hmm.”

Feeling a bit defeated, I racked my brain for a solution.

And, surprisingly, I found one.

‘Wah, Heavenly Demon Mommy.’

I’d come up with a downright petty plan.