Luck Never Betrays
Han Yuhyeon finished his verbal agreement with Baekri-wan and headed straight back to his quarters. Not that "quarters" meant much—it was still the same abandoned shack halfway up Myeong-wang-bong.
He'd asked whether the sect had any lodging available, only to be told that quarters were assigned starting with inner disciples. Damn this hierarchical society.
It wasn't as if Han Yuhyeon was actually broke. He'd already sold the Green-Eyed Herbs and banked fifteen hundred spiritual stones. Two hundred alone would cover a month at a decent inn. Even so, he spent not a single coin. He slept in the ruin he'd always used and ate the free, low-grade fasting pills the sect handed out.
The reason he hoarded spiritual stones with such obsessive thrift was, of course, the Mongan Hyeolseo.
The moment the thought crossed his mind, a yellowed book unfurled before him like a film reel spinning to life.
Already reassuring. When he'd bought his foundation technique—the Taeheo Honwon-gyeong—his entire fortune had been a meager two hundred fifty spiritual stones. Now he had eighteen hundred, several times that. Shopping was always more fun when you actually had money to burn.
Countless cultivation methods and items filled the pages. As long as the stones held out, he could buy any of them.
So what should I get?
Truth be told, he already had more than enough techniques. In Qi Condensation, steadily practicing the Taeheo Honwon-gyeong alone was more than sufficient—and on top of that, he had the body-refinement art, the Jin Deungryong Gyeongcheon-gong.
His thoughts drifted back to today's fight. It had been decided by the thinnest of margins. His techniques were vastly superior in quality, yet a single realm of difference had still been that significant.
Then again, his realm was already rising at an absurd pace. In a single month he'd gone from two-star Qi Condensation to four-star.
So what did he need to fill in right now? Han Yuhyeon slowly replayed the fight in his mind. The Mongan Hyeolseo had no time limit—there was no reason to rush.
Spiritual power.
The answer came easily.
If his spiritual power had been even a little higher, he wouldn't have struggled so hard against a five-star Qi Condensation opponent.
Right now, Han Yuhyeon's base stats were dumped entirely into Luck. That meant the absolute fundamentals—vitality and spiritual power—were both lacking. And what he needed more of wasn't vitality, but spiritual power. In other games, it would be the equivalent of mana.
Whether a cultivator used a dharma treasure or cast an art, spiritual power was required for all of it.
The critical point was that every technique Han Yuhyeon had learned was so rare that obtaining it in Qi Condensation should have been impossible. Because of that, he burned far more spiritual power than cultivators using ordinary methods. The Hyeonwol-soin he'd received as a mission reward was already considered a fairly high-grade dharma treasure for Qi Condensation—drawing out its full power with his current reserves would be difficult. No matter how he looked at it, spiritual power was the right call.
Price: 500 Spiritual Stones (Lowest Grade)
As expected, there was nothing the Mongan Hyeolseo didn't sell. The Spirit-Luring Pill alone was an extremely rare item, yet here it was, sitting right on the shelf.
With eighteen hundred spiritual stones on hand, he could buy three. Absorption rates would still vary with innate talent, of course—but eating them was pure gain either way.
Perfect.
Without hesitation, Han Yuhyeon bought as many as he could and set aside three hundred spiritual stones as emergency funds. Spiritual power was pure weight class. There was nothing bad about stacking it.
The pages of the Mongan Hyeolseo turned, then closed, and his consciousness snapped back out.
"Hoo."
He immediately pulled the Spirit-Luring Pills from his storage pouch and swallowed all three at once. A warm current sank first into his dantian, then rose from there and spread through every corner of his body. After roughly consolidating the pill's spiritual energy, he sat down and began reciting the Taeheo Honwon-gyeong. His spiritual power had clearly increased.
Still not enough.
Even so, the techniques he cultivated contained such advanced principles that the extra spiritual power still fell short. It was a welcome rain after a drought all the same.
In the end, the only thing he could do right now was keep earning spiritual stones, steadily and without fail.
He was about to resume the Taeheo Honwon-gyeong when something tripped the detection formation he'd laid outside the ruin.
"Is this the place?"
"It's awfully shabby for a four-star Qi Condensation cultivator to live in…"
With his hearing sharpened, faint voices drifted in. Those who come mean no good—and sure enough, these visitors hadn't arrived with friendly intentions. Anyone who sought out a ruined shack in the middle of the night was never up to anything wholesome.
He sensed two of them, but there could always be more, so he didn't move rashly.
He wanted to hear more, but once they drew near the ruin they clamped their mouths shut, leaving only the sound of their presence. Han Yuhyeon quickly slid a chunk of wood under his blanket, then used an adhesion art to plaster himself flat against the ceiling in a spread-eagle.
These two didn't seem like professional assassins. Their voices had already given them away earlier, and even near the shack they kept fidgeting, rustling with every step.
Before long they found where he stayed. Outside the door, he felt two people holding their breath.
Tension coiled tight as Han Yuhyeon held his own breath as long as he could. Then—from beyond the door—came a sharp bang, and hundreds of flying needles punched into his bedding.
"Th-there. Done, Daoist Park."
"Excellent. The Crescent Moon Small Blade is ours now."
Voices from outside. Thieves after the Hyeonwol-soin.
The door burst open and two cultivators stepped inside. From their clothes, they weren't Baekun-pa disciples—rogue mountain cultivators. One was four-star Qi Condensation, the other three-star.
They swaggered toward the wooden block under the blanket, fully convinced it was him.
Then something felt off. The four-star called Daoist Park spoke up.
"Hold on."
"Hm? What is it?"
"Does it make any sense that there's no blood after getting stuck with this many needles?"
They looked at each other. That was when Han Yuhyeon dropped from the ceiling like a thunderbolt.
"Of course it doesn't make sense, you sons of bitches!"
"Aaaagh!"
He went straight for the three-star. Falling from the ceiling, he drove his heel into the crown of the man's skull like a lightning strike. The three-star cultivator never even got a chance to channel spiritual power—his head and shoulders suddenly shared the same height in a spectacular catastrophe.
"W-what—it was a trap!"
Naturally, Daoist Park made no attempt to help the three-star whose head was now buried in his own chest; he simply scrambled the other way. Han Yuhyeon formed the Samadhi True Fire in his palm and conjured a ball of flame. With almost no fire spiritual root, the blaze was feeble—but bright enough to make out a face. Daoist Park was a stranger.
"Who the hell are you?"
"…Heh heh. A pleasure, fellow cultivator. I am merely a mountain wanderer training in Yeongil-ju. I don't believe we need to exchange names."
Daoist Park did look at least a little embarrassed about being caught mid-theft.
"Why jump me? I've never even seen you people before."
Han Yuhyeon grabbed the three-star's head where it was buried up to the chest and yanked it free like pulling a radish. With a wet pop, the crushed face came free. Twisted as it was, it still didn't look familiar.
"I heard from a close friend that you possessed a high-grade dharma treasure—the Crescent Moon Small Blade. 'Desire rises at the sight of treasure,' they say, and it seems that old saying is exactly right. I, too, have come to realize the inadequacy of my own cultivation."
"You're worse than that. You didn't even see the treasure—you just heard about it and pulled this shit."
"…"
"So who spread that around?"
Han Yuhyeon asked. He was genuinely curious. Who had enough of a grudge to go talking about it?
"It isn't that anyone in particular spread it. There's hardly anyone who doesn't know. Secrets don't last long in this world."
That, he could accept. Of course the entire Baekun-pa already knew he'd been awarded the Hyeonwol-soin. From there to the outside world wouldn't have taken long. There really were far too many things to watch out for in this cultivation world.
"I've told you what you wanted—you'll let me go, then?"
Daoist Park said something so absurd it didn't deserve a verbal answer. Han Yuhyeon swung a fist instead.
The punch, packed with the power of the Deungryong Gyeongcheon-gong, tore through the air. Daoist Park's face went white as he shouted.
"I didn't tell you anything!"
"Shut up!"
"We're both four-star Qi Condensation—did you really think so little of me?!"
Daoist Park finally flared with rage and hauled up his energy. In that same instant Han Yuhyeon closed his fist, snuffing out the fire in his palm. The ruin plunged back into pitch darkness. It would serve as a moment's misdirection, at least.
Swish-swish-swish!
Something spun through the air, followed by the sound of flesh parting.
"Ghhhk…"
At the scream, Han Yuhyeon lit the fire in his palm again. Daoist Park stood there with his throat carved deep, eyes wide in disbelief.
Its work done, the Hyeonwol-soin slipped back into Han Yuhyeon's sleeve. Despite cutting so deep into a neck, not a single drop of blood clung to the blade.
"Oh. Yeah, this thing's great."
Whether Daoist Park clutched his throat and dropped to his knees or flopped over face-first was none of his concern. What pleased him was the Hyeonwol-soin's performance. It burned a lot of spiritual power, but with that kind of speed and cutting force, it was more than worth it.
"Ugh, damn it. Blanket's soaked."
Cursing Daoist Park for spraying blood all over the room, Han Yuhyeon hauled the corpse outside and dumped it. The scavenged blanket and mattress were both so thoroughly soaked they were unusable.
There was a reason cultivators needed secure residences. You never knew when someone would come hunting you in the night—which was exactly why they laced their homes with formations and traps.
As far as Han Yuhyeon was concerned, waking at just the right moment had also been Luck's doing. Without it, those flying-needle treasures could have done real damage. The thought only made a safe place to live feel more urgent than ever.
After burning the two thieving corpses, morning arrived. Han Yuhyeon headed straight for the Baekun-pa.
The moment he stepped into the sect, a strange atmosphere pressed against him. It had started with the gate guards—the same ones he'd once mocked as autumn-flower boys. They seemed oddly uncomfortable around him now.
At the main gate he'd wondered if he was imagining it, but by now he was certain. The entire Baekun-pa was uneasy around him.
People still didn't speak to him—that much was the same—but this was different from being treated like a ghost. Before, they had ignored him. Now they were actively avoiding him.
What could have happened in a single day? Still puzzled, Han Yuhyeon went to the Mission Hall. Daoist Yun flinched the instant he saw him.
"Ah—ah. You're here."
"What is it?"
Han Yuhyeon cut straight to the point.
"Hm?"
"What kind of rumor is going around that everyone takes one look at me and edges away? You've got to know something, Daoist Yun."
"Ah, haha. Well? I wouldn't know."
"Hey."
Han Yuhyeon tilted his head at a crooked angle toward the man playing dumb. Daoist Yun flinched.
"You're three-star Qi Condensation, right? I'm four-star."
"…Ah. Y-yes, of course. Senior Brother."
Talking down to someone far older than him was a first even for Han Yuhyeon, but watching Daoist Yun freeze in place brought a small, ugly spark of satisfaction.
"What. Is. It."
At that chilling tone, Daoist Yun straightened his spine.
"I-it's nothing major. There's a rumor going around that Senior Brother Han defeated Elder Mun's attendant disciple and reached four-star Qi Condensation. But it was so hard to believe that…"
Daoist Yun watched his face carefully. Han Yuhyeon snorted a short laugh. So it wasn't just the Hyeonwol-soin—yesterday's fight had spread too. Of course people found it hard to believe. Until last month he'd been two-star Qi Condensation.
"But it seems it really is true."
"Yeah. It is."
Daoist Yun was fishing, so Han Yuhyeon simply nodded. He had no intention of hiding his strength. This was a world where the weak got no respect. If he wanted to avoid being wronged, he had to show what he could do. The moment he declared himself four-star, Daoist Yun—who'd been trying to play the adult—had crumpled on the spot.
Once Daoist Yun's loose tongue confirmed the four-star rumor as fact, moving around the Baekun-pa would only get easier.
"…Ah—Senior Brother Jeong."
Daoist Yun suddenly spotted someone over Han Yuhyeon's shoulder and greeted him in a fluster. Han Yuhyeon turned. A wide grin spread across his face.
The loser of the bet—Senior Brother Jeong—caught sight of Han Yuhyeon, and his expression twisted violently. Han Yuhyeon had been planning to go find him anyway, and here the man had walked right up on his own. As expected, luck never betrayed Han Yuhyeon.