Overflow Novice: 10,000 Years in Tutorial Hell

Chapter 5: A Flick of the Finger

Ryu stared at the tip of the claymore, which was currently trembling a mere inch from his windpipe. Tiberion’s breath smelled like expensive espresso and unbridled ego. The "Wolf Soul" aura radiating from the man was supposed to be terrifying, a golden, swirling vortex of mana that took the shape of a snarling lupine predator. To the average hunter, it was a death sentence. To Ryu, who had spent the last few centuries of his loop practicing meditative breathing while a literal God-Eater Serpent tried to swallow his hut, it looked like a particularly agitated golden retriever.

"A sparring match?" Ryu repeated, his voice flat. He looked past the sword at Tiberion’s vein-popping forehead. "Is there food involved? Because Pyra said something about chicken curry, and I’ve been thinking about the logistics of spices for the last three minutes."

Tiberion’s eye twitched. "You think this is a joke? You destroyed a Grade-4 measuring stone with a 'flick.' You’re either using a banned artifact or you’re a high-rank infiltrator from the Neutral Zones. Either way, I’m going to break you until the truth comes out."

"Tiberion, back down!" Pyra’s voice cut through the tension like a chilled blade. She stepped forward, her own aura, a refined, flickering crimson, rising to meet Tiberion’s golden light. "The testing equipment has been glitching all morning. You’re making a scene in front of the press."

She was right. In the observation gallery above the testing floor, several drones with hovering cameras were already zooming in. The headlines were writing themselves: S-Rank Prodigy Challenges Level 1 Mystery Man.

"No," Tiberion hissed, his gaze locked on Ryu. "The Association rules are clear. Any hunter can challenge another to a 'Power Verification Spar' if the rank results are deemed 'Inconsistent with Physical Output.' He’s a Level 1. I’m an S-Rank. If he’s actually an F-Rank, he can just surrender and admit he’s a fraud. But we both know he won't, because he's hiding something."

Ryu sighed, a sound of profound, soul-deep exhaustion. He looked at the blue system screen floating in his peripheral vision.

[STRENGTH: 99,999+]

[DEXTERITY: 99,999+]

[LEVEL: 1]

[STATUS: OVERFLOW DETECTED – EXERCISING RESTRAINT RECOMMENDED]

"Fine," Ryu said, shrugging. The movement was so casual it made Tiberion flinch. "But if I win, I want double portions of the curry. And a side of those pickled r****hes. I haven't had a r****h that wasn't made of pixels since the late 90s."

"You’re dead," Tiberion growled.

The transition to the main training arena took less than five minutes. The Arena was a massive, sunken bowl of reinforced tungsten-carbide, shielded by a triple-layered mana barrier designed to withstand tactical nukes. It was usually reserved for High-Rank simulations, but the smell of a scandal had drawn every staff member and reporter in the building to the stands.

Tiberion stood at the opposite end of the white-tiled floor, shedding his heavy cloak. Underneath, his armor hummed with enchantments. He raised the claymore, and the "Wolf Soul" intensified, the golden light turning into a physical pressure that cracked the floor tiles beneath him.

"The rules are simple!" the referee shouted from behind a safety screen. "To incapacitation or surrender! Begin!"

Tiberion didn't wait. He exploded forward.

To the crowd, he was a golden blur, a streak of light moving at Mach 1. The sound barrier shattered with a deafening boom, sending a shockwave of dust across the arena. His sword, heavy enough to cleave a tank, whistled through the air in a perfect vertical arc aimed at Ryu’s shoulder.

To Ryu, however, the world had effectively stopped.

He watched as Tiberion lunged. It was painful. It was like watching a snail try to win a drag race while dragging a house. Ryu had plenty of time to think. If I move my arm to block, the friction against the air will create a localized vacuum that might pop everyone’s eardrums in the front row. If I jump, I’ll go through the ceiling and probably hit a satellite. If I use a skill, the System might actually explode this time.

Ryu thought back to Year 4,500 of the loop. He had spent that entire century practicing 'Efficiency of Motion.' He had learned that the most devastating force wasn't a big swing, but the displacement of air.

Tiberion’s blade was now three inches from Ryu’s head. The S-Ranker’s face was twisted in a grin of triumph. He thought he had him.

Ryu raised his right hand. He didn't make a fist. He didn't even put strength into it. He simply tucked his middle finger behind his thumb, the universal gesture for a flick.

Calculated Force: 0.000000001% of Maximum, Ryu thought. Actually, wait. Better make it 0.0000000001%. I don't want to have to fill out insurance forms for the guy’s family.

Ryu flicked the air.

He didn't hit the sword. He didn't even hit Tiberion. He flicked the empty space three inches in front of the blade.

The result was a sound that didn't belong in a training arena. It was a sharp, metallic crack, like the world’s largest whip being snapped. The air in front of Ryu’s finger was compressed so violently it turned into a visible distortion, a shimmering ripple of pure kinetic energy.

The "Air Compression" wave hit Tiberion’s "Wolf Soul" aura. The golden wolf didn't just fade; it evaporated. It looked like a candle flame being hit by a fire hose.

"What...?" Tiberion’s eyes widened, the word barely leaving his lips before the physics took over.

The kinetic wall slammed into Tiberion’s chest. The S-Ranker’s enchanted armor, rated to survive a mountain-level impact, buckled instantly. His boots lost contact with the floor. He didn't slide. He didn't stumble. He became a human projectile.

Tiberion flew backward. He cleared the hundred-yard distance of the arena in a fraction of a second.

CRASH.

He hit the first reinforced wall, his body punching a perfect, man-shaped hole through five feet of mana-treated concrete.

CRASH.

He went through the secondary support pillar behind it, the structure groaning as it shattered into gravel.

CRASH.

The third wall, the exterior boundary of the Association wing, didn't stand a chance. Tiberion sailed through it and vanished into the afternoon sky, a distant 'ding' sounding as the sunlight caught his armor one last time before he plummeted toward the Association’s decorative koi pond three city blocks away.

Silence.

The dust settled slowly. Ryu stood in the center of the arena, his hand still raised in the flicking position. He looked at his finger, then back at the giant, gaping hole in the building that allowed a nice breeze and a view of the Seoul skyline.

"Man," Ryu muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really need to work on my trigger discipline. I think I might have accidentally used 0.0000000002%."

He turned toward the observation deck, where the cameras were frozen and the reporters looked like they had forgotten how to breathe.

Pyra Solstice stood at the glass, her hands pressed against the pane. Her "Eye of Truth" was active, the glowing iris vibrating as she stared at the spot where Ryu had "poked" the air.

As a High-Ranker, she was attuned to the flow of mana. She could feel the lingering traces of even the smallest spell. But as she scanned the arena, her heart began to hammer against her ribs with a terrifying rhythm.

There was no mana. No elemental residue. No "System Skill" signature.

The devastation she was looking at, the shattered walls, the defeated S-Ranker, the atmospheric distortion, hadn't been caused by magic. It had been caused by raw, terrifyingly concentrated physical force.

Ryu looked up at her, caught her eye, and gave a small, awkward wave. "So... about that curry?"

Pyra didn't answer. She couldn't. She was too busy staring at the Level 1 icon floating above Ryu’s head, which was currently flickering red, struggling to stay stable as the world’s logic began to break around him.