Chapter 27 - New Martial Art (2)
Guild master's office.
Han Kang-seok and Robert were leisurely sipping tea.
"You failed the initiation ceremony, huh?"
"......"
Robert, who had just set down his teacup, wore a troubled expression.
The fact that he'd been soundly defeated by Kim Sun-woo during the initiation ceremony had already spread like wildfire throughout the guild.
He hadn't even used his exclusive armament or gone all out.
Had he fought properly without the illusion field, the outcome might have been different.
But Robert made no excuses or quibbles.
The defeat was fact, and he'd humbly accepted it.
Sure, he'd taken plenty of teasing for the first such incident in guild history, but it wasn't enough to shake his resolve.
"He did well. That's what a real genius is."
"The team leaders were all shocked too. They say he reproduced Huashan Sect martial arts right on the spot."
"But he himself wasn't satisfied. Said it was just superficial mimicry."
Han Kang-seok let out a wry smile at Robert's words.
"The difference between ordinary folk and geniuses. They don't even grasp how absurd that claim is. With talent beyond norms, there's no benchmark for comparison."
"......"
Robert silently sipped his tea.
In truth, the man before him, Han Kang-seok, was also a freakish genius by his standards.
Not only one of Korea's rare A-rank hunters, but the very one who'd single-handedly elevated Mugung Guild to one of the nation's top 10.
No matter how genius Kim Sun-woo was, matching that trajectory was impossible.
That was why everyone stuck around under Han Kang-seok instead of jumping to bigger guilds.
"Teach him well. It's a chance to inject fresh blood into the guild."
"He's a battle-hardened hunter, so 'fresh blood' might not fit. Training looks like it'll wrap up fast. He's brimming with enthusiasm. Probably done within three raids..."
"You're rating him pretty high."
"Fair assessment. Team Leader Kim Sun-woo's not just got stellar personal records—his rep with others is solid too. A genius with that kind of social savvy, who actually looks after his surroundings? Rare breed."
"Right. Toss him into tomorrow's raid, and we can get a rough gauge. You two didn't prep together?"
"I planned to spar or something..."
"But?"
As Han Kang-seok tilted his head, Robert replied with a troubled look.
"He's been holed up in the guild database for two straight days, no clock-out. Checked the staff logs—he's poring over the martial arts data one by one."
"Anything worth his time in there?"
"Mostly second- and third-rate stuff. Doubt it'll help at Team Leader Kim Sun-woo's level."
"Geniuses see things their own way. Anyway, keep tabs on him. Been a while since we got an interesting one."
"...Ugh."
Kim Sun-woo, who'd been glued to the monitor, stretched with a long groan.
Even back in his gaming-obsessed school days, he hadn't stared at a screen this intensely.
Shutting down the overworked computer, he stood—and a staffer who'd been watching from afar approached.
"Extending your session?"
"Nah, calling it here."
"Impressive, sir."
"...Huh?"
What's so impressive?
As Kim Sun-woo looked up, the staffer gushed with sparkling eyes.
"Official record was 31 hours straight. You shattered it with 52—an overwhelming new mark. Not one to break easily."
"...52 hours? Already?"
Kim Sun-woo's eyes widened.
He hadn't checked the clock.
When the staffer approached about extending, he'd figured maybe six hours tops.
Since the counter hadn't hit huge numbers yet, he'd pegged it as just an all-nighter.
"I extended it on my own so you could focus. Pure formality anyway."
"Ah, thanks."
Kim Sun-woo bowed his head.
Meant he'd been so locked in, time vanished.
Without the staffer's help, he wouldn't have hit his goal.
Thanks to that, he'd achieved solid results.
"I'll head back then. Raids start tomorrow."
"Yes, sir! Truly well done!"
With a quick farewell, Kim Sun-woo departed.
The staffer assumed he'd head home, but the elevator shot upward.
Beep.
Using team leader privileges, he booked the exclusive training hall and stepped in.
A facility worlds apart from his F-rank days.
Letting out a quiet sigh of admiration, he entered the empty space.
Fortunate—no one else around, perfect for quiet practice.
"...I look like hell."
Checking the wall mirror, Kim Sun-woo wryly smiled at his reflection.
Two days and nights rolling in the database had left his jaw shadowed with stubble, eyes bloodshot red, face gaunt and wrecked.
Even so, raiding like this? No way.
Wrap experiments, then home for a wash and nap.
"But first..."
Kim Sun-woo did some light stretches.
Not for nothing he'd barricaded himself in the database devouring martial arts tomes.
To plug knowledge gaps, he needed volume—read as many as possible.
Didn't grok them all, so cram and intuit best he could.
Of course, couldn't hack it forever on gut and guesswork.
Time to hire an expert interpreter or snag commentaries.
Still, not fruitless.
Clunk.
Wall button pressed—a humanoid dummy descended from the ceiling.
Kim Sun-woo stood before it, feet shoulder-width, hand extended.
Ssszz.
Internal energy drawn from his dantian, flowed to his arm.
Then spiraled atop his fingertip, power condensing.
'Shooting finger wind's simple.'
Common method: flick finger to launch air or medium ahead.
Easy, potent, efficient.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Finger flicks punched finger-sized holes in the dummy, invisible bullets embedding.
"Good."
Hundreds of mental reps paid off—finger wind manifested perfectly. Kim Sun-woo clenched a fist, grinning.
Couldn't test finger wind in the database anyway.
Simulated only; first real shot nailed it.
For a close-range specialist like him, ranged finger wind was an indispensable ace.
Consumption modest too.
Handled right, trash mobs gone in one.
"Now for this..."
His martial arts binge wasn't just for finger wind.
Basic shooting? First day, hour or two on principles sufficed.
Finger techniques came with lectures and notes—easy grasp.
Big names like Shaolin's Diamond Finger or Wudang's Five Elements Finger? Absent from database.
First-rate killers that could pluck birds mid-flight.
Kim Sun-woo craved more than basics.
Thus, retooled finger wind using his own arsenal.
Crackle.
Energy on fingertip roiled, ominous hum.
Muscles twisted, skin flushed red from strain.
Sensing trouble, he dialed back the flow.
'Finer control.'
Balance cost-efficiency against overload.
One clean hit, and his senses would lock it in.
Ratio fine-tuned, he flicked as before.
Flash!!!
Dazzling blaze erupted.
Shooting hand rocketed upward; recoil shoved his body back steps.
But the finger wind slammed the dummy with cataclysmic force.
KABOOM!!
Monstrous blast—dummy's upper half vaporized like cannon fire.
Sizzle.
Smoke curled from his fingertip still.
Kim Sun-woo shook the tingling digit, chuckling dryly.
"It worked."
No worthwhile finger winds in the guild database, alas.
So he'd borrowed his swiftest, deadliest sword form.
White Flow Sword Technique, first stance: Lightning Strike Sword.
Adapted its mantra and form to finger wind—birthed a new art.
Utterly distinct from the original, monstrous power: a standalone technique.
Fist clenched, Kim Sun-woo nodded with conviction.
"This'll be damn useful."
Minimized output for stability, still this devastating.
Point-blank? Even the black knight wouldn't walk away.
Low drain, simple execution.
Master output and balance to spare his hand—peerless weapon.
"...Name it what?"
Arms crossed, he pondered.
Naming martial arts? Grave matter.
Crafted something badass, slap on a lame tag? Nah.
"Lightning Strike Finger?"
Lightning Strike? Thunderbolt?
Pacing briefly, decision struck.
"Thunderbolt Finger."
Flying Thunder Finger.
Like hurling lightning—apt, given the visuals.
Crack.
Knuckles popped lightly; then he unleashed a barrage of Flying Thunder Fingers.
To hone flaws, limits, refine the form.
'Till dinner, prep up—ready for tomorrow's raid.'
Barrage underway—
Whoosh.
Training hall door slid open; Robert entered.
Post-guild master chat, he'd hit the database to find Kim Sun-woo.
Time to wrap up, prep for tomorrow's raid.
Staff said record set, then out.
But roster showed no clock-out.
Rented training hall right after.
What the hell after a two-day all-nighter?
"Sun-woo, you were h—"
Robert called upon entering.
But before reply—
KABOOM!
A bone-chilling white thunderbolt ripped past, shredding the air before him.