Chapter 079 - Nakwol Workshop (2)
“...An immortal?”
Kim Sun-woo voiced his bewilderment at the sudden mention.
He’d expected something straight out of a wuxia novel—like an Ultimate Martial Body or Heavenly Martial Physique.
Anything less couldn’t explain his explosive growth.
So he’d assumed the talk would veer that way, but an immortal? Really?
Under Kim Sun-woo’s expectant gaze urging more details, Yi Seong-jin stroked his goatee and spoke.
“Modern shamans fall into several branches. There are Taoists like me who wield Taoist arts, shamans like this fellow who handle spirit mediumship, monks pursuing transcendence through self-cultivation... and though they’d deny it, even the priests from Protestant or Catholic faiths fit into one of these categories.”
“Don’t go blabbing about that outside. They’ll flip their lids and insist we’re not the same breed.”
Kim Sun-woo gave a curt nod at Yi Ho-jin’s gruff addendum.
Modern priests received special treatment.
They wielded immense power while proving the existence of an uncertain ‘God’ through divine miracles, elevating their honor in the process.
Spouting off like Yi Seong-jin just did would earn anyone a beating.
“Anyway, back to the point.”
Yi Seong-jin cleared his throat lightly, then fixed Kim Sun-woo with a steady gaze.
“Every field has its ultimate pursuit. For Taoists like me, it’s ascension through deep meditation.”
“So what does it mean that I’m a vessel for an immortal?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
Yi Seong-jin continued, his eyes gleaming with an ethereal blue light.
“It means you were born clutching the goal others spend lifetimes chasing. Like those Heavenly Martial Physiques or Ultimate Martial Bodies from the wuxia tales.”
“Hm.”
Kim Sun-woo scratched his cheek.
So he did have talent—just not for martial arts, apparently.
Still, having any gift at all wasn’t bad news.
“Guess I should’ve trained in Taoist arts instead of martial arts. Too bad I can’t switch now.”
“Life’s full of those regrets. Statistically speaking, anyway. No use dwelling on the past—now that you know, it’s what comes next that matters, right?”
Kim Sun-woo shrugged with a wry chuckle, since Taoist arts had never even crossed his mind.
The real question was what to do going forward, just as Yi Seong-jin said.
If need be...
He’d even considered learning them.
That’s why he’d come to the Nakwol Workshop in the first place.
“So what now? The results came quicker than expected.”
Kim Sun-woo eyed the two men.
It stemmed from his talent being an immortal’s vessel.
Nothing had changed, really, but surely there was a way to leverage it better.
It had to help elevate his martial realm somehow.
“Two options.”
Yi Ho-jin answered, extending two fingers before bending them to point at Kim Sun-woo.
“Start training in Taoist arts now. Though with your martial progress, that’s unlikely.”
“The second is to train in both?”
“Right. But the power drops sharply that way. Taoist arts spring from mental and spiritual cultivation, after all. That’s why most of us hole up in the mountains, immersed in nature.”
Kim Sun-woo glanced back at the workshop.
Yet Nakwol Guild members bustled about actively.
One of Seoul’s top shaman shops...?
“Even hermits need money to buy a mountainside.”
“Mountains are pricier these days. Premium for that deep wilderness vibe—tch, what a world.”
“I see.”
Kim Sun-woo let out a bitter smile.
Spiritual cultivation talk veering into real estate prices yanked him right back to reality.
“And that helped with your martial training?”
“Naturally.”
Yi Seong-jin answered flatly.
“Both Taoist arts and martial arts demand razor-sharp senses. Your talent blooming and your realm skyrocketing? That’s why.”
“I know there’s a martial immortal realm too.”
“The Martial Immortal. It all converges there in the end. Just a difference in path—Taoist or martial. I can’t say for sure without trying it myself, though...”
Yi Seong-jin pondered briefly, then drew a whisk from his robes.
“Care to test if you’re worthy of reaching that point?”
“Music to my ears.”
Kim Sun-woo nodded, hand resting on the hilt of his Black Flow Sword at his waist.
An active A-rank hunter wouldn’t be a boring spar.
As ferocious intent boiled up from Kim Sun-woo’s entire body, Yi Seong-jin let out a hollow laugh.
“Not a fight. This is probing your inner self—no need for that killer aura...”
“What kinda trouble are you stirring outside that has this fresh-faced kid rearing for a brawl?”
“...What did I do?”
Yi Seong-jin looked wronged at Yi Ho-jin’s jab.
Kim Sun-woo was the one who’d misunderstood—why was he catching flak?
...Truth be told, he had zero interest in fighting Kim Sun-woo.
I could balance it out somehow, but...
The dragon from the A-rank dungeon break, the hand emerging from the gate—Kim Sun-woo battling both was still vivid in his mind.
His aura felt uniquely feral compared to other warriors.
And now he knew it came from being an immortal’s vessel.
As a Taoist, that made him uneasy.
One slip, and Kim Sun-woo might shatter his arts entirely.
An immortal’s vessel was perfect for mastering Taoist arts—and the ultimate counter to any who did.
“We’ll peer into your depths, observe your subconscious. Only with your consent, of course.”
“Not a duel, then.”
Kim Sun-woo withdrew his aura, a touch disappointed.
Yi Seong-jin wielding talismans and arts in battle had a distinct flavor from magic—impressive.
It felt like facing a phantom without form, but a few clashes might let him grasp it.
No such luck this time.
“Fine. Let’s proceed.”
“Relax your body, then. Don’t resist my power—accept it.”
At Yi Seong-jin’s glance, Yi Ho-jin sighed shortly and began clearing the area.
“So that’s why you called me—for grunt work.”
“And you hate it?”
“...Who said that?”
Yi Ho-jin grumbled but eyed Kim Sun-woo like a fisherman hauling up buried treasure, his face alight.
They treated him casually due to their own high realms, but news of an immortal’s vessel would rock the shaman world.
To shamans and scholars alike, Kim Sun-woo was a living specimen of immense value.
“Done. Start whenever.”
With talismans plastered around and a basin of what looked like beast blood poured out, Yi Ho-jin signaled readiness. Yi Seong-jin tapped his whisk contentedly.
“Good. Follow my lead and ride the flow. Best to stay relaxed.”
“Got it.”
Kim Sun-woo watched the whisk.
He had no idea what was coming, but it piqued his interest.
His own martial innovation had hit a wall anyway.
Maybe this would open a path.
“Here we go, then...”
A clear energy gathered at the whisk’s tip.
The same hue as when Kim Sun-woo had gripped a talisman.
After a brief incantation to prepare his art, Yi Seong-jin’s face turned grave.
“Let’s see what lies within.”
Tap.
The whisk touched Kim Sun-woo’s forehead lightly.
A massive energy flooded in, and Kim Sun-woo’s eyes widened.
Whoosh!
His consciousness was sucked away.
He instinctively resisted the alien sensation but recalled Yi Seong-jin’s words and withdrew his White Flow Divine Art’s inner energy.
He simply followed the pull with a calm mind.
Flash—!
Scenes unspooled like memories rewinding.
From arriving here, playing in reverse: fierce dungeon battles flashing by.
B-rank, C-rank, down to F-rank hunter days, dungeon crawling.
Kim Sun-woo watched silently.
A review of the past?
Reliving it this way felt fresh, even memories he thought faded.
Vivid, like was it really like this?
...His first martial initiation drew a helpless laugh.
Utterly reckless, in hindsight.
Forming a dantian solo and circulating inner energy? Insane by any standard.
That’s why countless warriors had gawked at him.
The flow pushed past hunter days into his brilliant youth.
Parents alive and well, family thriving.
Early twenties him shone dazzlingly.
A B-rank hunter amassing billions—more than before—yet this glow felt absent now.
Time’s cruel passage.
“...”
Kim Sun-woo silently regarded his parents.
Memories now faint even in photos.
He’d thought them gone, but facing them here stirred a surge from his chest’s depths.
How long did he watch?
The panorama of ‘Kim Sun-woo’s’ life reached its end.
In a film, credits would roll; in a play, the curtain would fall.
Reflection complete, Kim Sun-woo prepared to return...
-Who said you could leave so easily?
An alien voice whispered in his ear, jolting him.
Yi Seong-jin pranking him?
No, not that vibe.
This echoed not from above, but the abyssal depths of an endless void.
Shrieeeek!!!
The scenery warped instantly into a familiar neighborhood.
...The one he’d lived in for ten F-rank years.
Too recent to miss.
Why this scene?
As Kim Sun-woo narrowed his eyes, an unfamiliar voice came from behind.
“You wake me with all this racket, you pay the toll, right?”
He turned.
Faded tee, shaggy neglected hair, lifeless eyes contrasting a slightly fresher face.
“...You.”
There stood a younger version of himself from the past.