Embrace (1)
Gu Cheon-gi couldn't believe it.
His brother—who thought he was Lü Bu holed up in a corner room—a master? How was he supposed to buy that?
If it had been the handsome third son of the Gu Clan revealed as a master, maybe. But baseless rumors had to be corrected.
He hadn't even been allowed to touch the "martial" in martial arts, thanks to his mother's opposition. Whenever he tried to learn, she'd come flying in like a hawk and turn his butt into a monkey's.
Even so, with talent worthy of being called a genius, he'd honed his body and earned a reputation as the neighborhood fist. Heavenly Martial Divine Blood, Vajra Divine Meridians, Nine Dragon Star Bones. His mother just didn't recognize the legendary qualities in her son. Any absolute master would be scrambling to take him as a disciple.
If his brother had learned martial arts, it was entirely Mother's fault. Teaching martial arts to a shut-in eldest with no talent? Absurd. A complete waste of time.
He was confident he could reach the absolute realm in three years. But first, he needed a full confession from his eldest brother.
He'd wanted to find him as soon as possible, but for the family's sake, he'd made a grand decision. And yet Mother was too quick. What if she left her sons behind and ran off alone? He'd followed because he was who he was. The other kids probably couldn't keep up with Mother.
He'd gone through hell prying off his little sister, who threw a tantrum insisting on coming along.
But when he finally reached the branch office, everything was over, and they were packing up to leave.
He'd gotten the full story from his eldest brother's servant. Of course. Brother must've gotten chewed out by Mother and holed up crying his eyes out again.
Still, he hadn't expected a severe scolding. The Gu Clan's tradition was that rigid eldest-son favoritism policy.
Cheon-gi believed in meritocracy. For the clan to thrive, it had to pass to the capable child. If the eldest inherited the Gu Merchant Group, even their modest operations wouldn't last long before bankruptcy.
Creak!
He flung open the door to his eldest brother's room. If your little brother came to visit, you should come out and greet him properly. Holing up in your room was unacceptable.
The world was survival of the fittest, where the strong reigned supreme. Excluding Mother, no one in the clan could beat him. He made no exceptions for brothers. Reality was harsh.
"You're here."
"Bro, are you insane?"
You're here? Chills.
In a situation where he should've rushed over, knelt, and begged forgiveness, his brother was just sitting on the bed, spacing out.
What to do with this utterly shameless eldest brother? Cheon-gi resolved to remodel him this time.
No matter the circumstances, his brother had caused a major incident. If the clan was in peril, learning martial arts would be tough. No money meant no spirit pills.
His brother was blocking his own path forward. For everyone's sake, a stern reprimand and beautiful discipline were needed. Sibling squabbles were common anyway.
Bro, let's throw down today. Once you get hit, you'll realize what you did wrong.
Cheon-gi was confident. He hadn't gotten a divine art because of Mother, but he'd built a foundation with the Three Disasters Technique. To learn a divine art later, he couldn't afford messy basic methods. Sticking to foundational heart arts and body training was most effective now.
I have plans for this body.
The path to absolute master was perfectly mapped out in novels. Unlike third-rate fools obsessed with quick results, his approach was qualitatively superior.
"Your words and actions lack prudence."
"I'm being more prudent than ever right now. Cut the crap and come to the yard... no, the courtyard."
"Sure."
"For an eldest brother, you're awfully relaxed with a genius like me standing here. Let's see how long that lasts!"
Cheon-woo thought to himself. Now he understood why Cheon-su called this guy an idiot.
Confirmed.
If Cheon-gi took over the merchant group, it was doomed. In tens of thousands of years of life, this was a first. Maybe that's why he hadn't remembered him.
Fortunately, Mother wouldn't have to see this mess. She was resting off the fatigue from the trip to the branch.
In the courtyard were Cheon-su and Ga-bok. Ga-bok had called Cheon-su, as if he'd known this would happen.
Cheon-su did need some fun to shake off his recent exhaustion. Handling studies, martial arts, and the merchant group left him short ten bodies.
"You're a problem too, Cheon-su bro. If the eldest messed up, you should've guided him right."
"And when have you ever listened to me, even out of one ear? If you're so confident, go ahead and do whatever. But as your elder by a year, my advice: back off now—for your own good."
"Always talking big. Fine, eldest first, then you."
"Bring it."
Cheon-gi was brimming with leisure. Spoiling him because he was family had made his brother look down on him. Eldest and second bro still didn't get it, but once they faced harsh reality, they'd wake up.
He'd thought it was prejudice, but watching confirmed it—Cheon-woo felt rather wronged.
Cheon-ye, this is just like you said.
This wasn't his fault. Cheon-gi's nature was clear. To pin all the blame on him even now? His little sister was more shameless than she seemed. Maybe it ran in the family, mistaking Baek Clan Manor for Gu Clan Manor.
Still, he wouldn't ignore her. Granting his one sister's wish was a brother's virtue.
"I'm a practical fighter who doesn't bother with flashy three-second handicaps or pointless rituals, so get ready!"
"Come at me."
First strike wins—Cheon-gi stomped forward. For self-taught martial arts without formal initiation, his basics weren't bad. Enough to earn a rep as a neighborhood brawler.
"Take my Invincible Under Heaven Fist!"
A practical fighter announcing his technique? His basics were decent, sure. Like claiming you'd mastered the Thousand Character Classic and the Four Books and Three Classics.
The martial world wasn't lenient enough for neighborhood-level skills.
Thud!
Whoosh, crash!
Was this the annoyance of swatting a fly? Cheon-woo casually swung his hand.
But to Cheon-gi, who'd thrown the punch, it was anything but light. His balance yanked sideways in an instant, legs buckling, and he tumbled to the ground.
Cheon-gi, collapsed pathetically in one exchange, immediately denied reality. For a practical fighter, he was slow on the uptake.
"Luck... right?"
He'd dreamed of stylishly rising for a flashy counter, but now he couldn't help paling. The gap between ideal and reality.
Boom!
Crack!
Cheon-woo's true stomp cratered the ground. The destructive force proved by the thunderous roar and fissures.
"Not bad reflexes."
Where Cheon-gi had lain was now a clear footprint and cracks. A split-second slower, and it wouldn't be a footprint—but brains and blood mingled in a gruesome sight.
Gulp!
His brother's praise for quick reflexes didn't reach Cheon-gi's ears. Pure survival instinct from the chilling dread.
"Coward, won't even stand... argh!"
Cheon-gi clutched his eyes. Cheon-woo's index and middle fingers had gently poked his little brother's eyes.
Pathetic as he was, he was still family. Couldn't show Mother a blind son.
"Looking for cowardice in real combat?"
If there's a chance to kill, end it swiftly. That was peak practicality.
Proving yourself by giving openings? Not combat.
Swish!
Cheon-woo didn't stop the combo. Offense was the best defense, proven in battle.
Swoosh, smack!
Cheon-gi doubled over from the solar plexus hit; Cheon-woo's knee smashed his face. Blood sprayed like a fountain onto Cheon-woo.
Splat!
Flat on the ground like a limp summer frog, Cheon-gi lay spread-eagled. Dead silence fell.
Thud!
Cheon-su and Ga-bok, expecting moderate discipline, swallowed dryly. No back-and-forth—it was one-sided. But each of Cheon-woo's moves screamed lethality. Not just painful—potentially fatal, laced with killing intent.
Of course, it was their misconception. If Cheon-woo intended murder, Cheon-gi wouldn't be breathing. He spared his brother, didn't cripple him. The jianghu didn't tolerate free-roaming cripples.
This was a good chance to steel his warrior resolve and learn the jianghu's terror.
"Bro! Cheon-gi's a total retard, sure, but this is too much!!"
"Even retards are kids—Grandma might get mad!"
Cheon-su and Ga-bok offered unclear pleas—protecting or egging on? Hard to unify in shock, hard to hide true feelings. Especially with Cheon-gi passed out.
They say even emperors get cursed if you don't hear. Cursing a retard as a retard hardly counts.
"Get up."
...?
Cheon-woo's order sounded off to Cheon-su and Ga-bok. Only two solid hits, but blood everywhere like a fountain. Cheon-gi had self-proclaimed top-under-heaven talent, but it was too much.
"If you wanna get stomped dead, no choice."
"...I'm up!"
As Cheon-woo lightly tapped the ground like prepping a true stomp, the "unconscious" Cheon-gi bolted up like a seizure.
Drip!
His blood-smeared face was sweat-soaked. From hits or fear-induced cold sweat? Indistinguishable.
He hadn't heard Cheon-su and Ga-bok's trash talk. Pure survival instinct at work.
Shiver!
Seized by dread, Cheon-gi convulsed uncontrollably. The more he tried calming, the more ingrained terror consumed him. Trembling after just two hits? Unacceptable. Illogical. Couldn't accept cowering from his brother.
"...Sorcery! That's it, bro! You're crazy! Using evil sorcery on your brother—if word gets out, the jianghu will hunt you as a public enemy!"
Cheon-su and Ga-bok, thinking he'd finally face reality, just shook their heads. Once a retard, always—never listens. Good he hadn't debuted in the martial world. Wouldn't survive with spare lives. True top retard.
Even to a retard, Cheon-woo was serious.
"If you wanna be a hero, beat a third-rate sect at least."
"Obviously! That won't work anymore!"