It had now been three days since training week had started. After our third failed attempt, Yeoui seemed bored beyond belief and headed home without a worry.
"Bye bye everyone~ You've all made some good progress, but you'll need more than brute force to win. I'm going to enjoy my free-time at a hot spring! I heard District 6's were to die for~"
He was right. I could feel that all of us were getting stronger, yet we kept hitting that inevitable wall. We weren't getting closer to victory—just better at losing slower.
"Derrick..."
Yin suddenly approached me as the others caught their breath from the day's spar.
"What is it? Here to propose another strategy?"
"Close, but not quite. I wish to speak to you about your Mang. Would you mind if I examined it for a moment?"
"Ah, sure."
I placed my hand out in front of me, palm facing upwards, and Yin carefully studied it. He closed his eyes, centering his Mang around mine, the air between our hands starting to ripple. His Mang was dark—dense, hollow, and strangely cold. It spiraled around my palm like a whirlpool devouring light.
Then—
A sudden jolt of energy cracked outward, a violent arc of Mang flinging both of us back. It was violent, malevolent, and ancient.
"G-Guys! What happened?"
"The hell...?"
Mephi and Barrel scrambled to their feet, staring at the smoking floor where we'd stood.
Even Shin blinked, the corners of his eyes tightening slightly.
Yin stood, brushing off his coat. His voice was calm, but his face betrayed something else—concern.
"That contract... I've never seen something this powerful before, not even from Mr. Anderson. I do not mean this in a rude manner, Derrick, but you are an extremely dangerous existence."
[You'll be the greatest Devil this world has ever seen.]
Those words echoed in my head again.
"However..." Yin continued, "this may be the key to victory—if you can tap into it."
"Alright... but how can I tap into the power of a contract?"
"The simplest method is meditation. By accessing your inner world through extreme relaxation, you may commune with the spirit tied to your contract. Whether or not it agrees to lend you strength, however... is another matter entirely."
Honestly, I'd rather not see that creepy Attendant again. But at this point, I didn't have much of a choice.
___
That night, I climbed to the rooftop alone. I shut my eyes and focused, letting go of the tension, the fatigue, the failure. Everything slipped away, until I felt that familiar pull, like gravity turning inside out.
My mind dove into itself.
And the world around me changed.
I found myself once more in the Attendant's domain—an archaic library filled with forbidden knowledge, with a solemn throne in the middle of the room, awaiting it's master.
Standing before me was a familiar, yet annoying man- The Attendant.
"Oh? You return sooner than I expected. What brings you back, pact-bearer?"
"I need strength," I told him. "I need to win. I need more than what I am now."
He chuckled, teeth gleaming like a row of knives.
"Need? What a human word. Very well. If you insist, then allow me to honor our little contract."
He stepped aside, and behind him, the world twisted—flesh peeled back from stone, and a gate rose from the floor. Tall as a skyscraper. Black as pitch. It pulsed with red veins of light, its surface covered in shifting, alien inscriptions that squirmed like worms across ancient metal. I couldn't read them, but I felt what they meant.
Power. Dominion. Death.
The Attendant gestured with a theatrical bow.
"Go ahead. Push it open. Just know—whatever you draw from beyond that gate may be beyond your limits."
I hesitated.
Then I stepped forward.
My hand touched the gate—and my soul screamed.
The surge of energy that tore through my arm was inhuman. My bones rattled. My Mang overloaded instantly. It wasn't just power—it was density. Reality being force-fed into my cells. My veins turned to fire, my eyes bled, and my heart spasmed like it was trying to rip its way out of my chest.
Heaven.
Hell.
Love.
Hate.
Joy.
Time.
Life.
Fruitful Beginning.
Fragile Death.
An amalgamation of abstract concepts and information flooded my brain, overwhelming my human senses.
I collapsed. Knees hitting the cold, void-stone floor. Gasping.
The Attendant chuckled once more at my failure.
"Come back another time. It's too soon for you to see the truth."
___
I jolted up on the rooftop, coughing hard, my Mang flaring wildly before sputtering out like a dying spark.
"Derrick!" Yin's voice. He'd been keeping watch nearby.
"I… failed," I muttered, voice hoarse.
He knelt beside me, eyes calm, analyzing.
"No. You learned your limits. That is not failure. That is information."
I nodded weakly. "I couldn't even touch it."
"Then do not touch it. Skirt it. Graze it. Tap at its echoes. You do not need all of it… only a fraction. Just enough to win."
I clenched my fist, remembering the pressure—the flood of infinite heat that had nearly torn me apart.
"Just a few more days...give me a few more days, and I'll grasp that power."
___
It was now the sixth day of training, and Mephi was banging her head against the table in frustration. "THAT GUY IS TOO STRONG! I CAN'T TAKE THIS TRAINING ANYMORE!"
"You mustn't make such a scene, Mephi. I would prefer if we did not get kick out of this restaurant again." Yin said as he stuffed his face full of curry.
"Megh Touw!" Barrel interjected, his mouth full of fried pork and rice.
We decided to have dinner after another grueling day of training at Mike Shore's Curry Restaurant. It was a good way to lift our spirits before the deadline, or at least let us forget about the responsibility for a moment...
"Too...tired to order...Yin, gimme some." Shin said with a lazy smile.
"L-Let's get back on track everyone. And no, I'm not ordering your food Shin, do it yourself."
I spoke up, trying to redirect the conversation towards something of actual importance. "Yin is right. We need to discuss a specific strategy for winning."
"But how? That guy is unstoppable."
Mephi had a point. In terms of technique, speed, strength, Mang control, capacity, and output, he was leagues above the rest of us. We needed to think outside the box if we wanted to win the right to the investigation tomorrow.
"Rather than simply winning outright, how about we make him break the rules?"
Barrel added on, "That's right! Didn't Yin mention that Yeoui isn't allowed to use his right hand? And as far as I know, he hasn't used his uniqueness offensively at all."
Yin let out a small grin. It was the first time I had seen him make such an expression. It was similar to a father teaching his children.
"That's right, Barrel. I see your intuition is improving. It is true that he cannot use his right arm, nor can he use any offensive applications of his uniqueness."
Barrel's face lit up like a Christmas tree.
I placed my hand on the back of my head as I sunk deep into though. "In that case...why don't we force him to use his right hand?"
"But how are we gonna do that? He's like, wayyyy too fast." Shin said as he ate the curry bowl Yin paid for. "It's not like any of us have a uniqueness anyways. How are we gonna force him out of position."
"I have one method, except...it's a gamble at best."
My comment garnered the attention of everyone at the table. They sat in silence, anticipation at my next words.
"It's not something as incredible as uniqueness, but if you can buy me just thirty seconds, I can guarantee you we will win."