Chapter 577: Miracle of Shaolin (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 577: Miracle of Shaolin (3)
"Aaaaaah!"
A piercing scream rang out.
I turned my head toward the sound. It didn’t seem to be coming from very far away.
Despite the cry, the street remained noisy, the bustling atmosphere largely unchanged. However, amidst the crowd, a few others had stopped and were looking in the same direction as I was.
Martial artists, all of them.
Their senses were sharp enough to pick out a scream over the urban din.
Did something happen?
A scream like that usually signaled trouble. But contrary to what one might expect, I wasn't particularly interested.
They’ll handle it.
This wasn't just any city; this was Henan. If something happened here, right under the nose of the Murim Alliance headquarters, it would be resolved in heartbeats.
With that thought, I turned back to the Dishonored Venerable.
“Elder, what were you about to say… huh?”
When I looked to my side, the Dishonored Venerable was gone. I scanned the area, wondering where the old man had vanished to, only to spot him in the distance. He was already walking toward the source of the scream.
“…Where are you going?” I called out.
The Dishonored Venerable tilted his head and looked back at me. His eyes were filled with an unreadable, mischievous curiosity.
“Disciple.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know what the most entertaining thing in the world is?”
“Watching money pile up.”
“...”
My unhesitating reply made the Dishonored Venerable’s face contort instantly. What? It really is the most fun thing I can think of.
“…What an utterly unromantic answer.”
I was too jaded by reality to go chasing romance. It couldn't be helped.
“So, what is it then? The most entertaining thing?” I asked nonchalantly.
A smile returned to the Dishonored Venerable’s lips. It seemed this was the prompt he had been waiting for.
“The most entertaining thing in the world is…”
“Yes.”
“…watching other people fight.”
“...Pardon?”
“There’s nothing more fun than that.”
“...”
I nodded slowly. So, what he was really saying was…
He wants to go watch the drama.
It was the Dishonored Venerable’s way of insisting we check it out. Having said his piece, the old man turned and continued walking.
“Haa.”
I let out a heavy sigh and followed him.
The place we eventually arrived at was…
“Huh?”
…surprisingly familiar. It was a dumpling restaurant in Henan that I frequented, famous for its flavor.
I was planning on coming here anyway.
I had intended to stop by eventually, though I never expected to visit under these circumstances. Wondering why a scream would erupt from a restaurant, I peered inside.
“Aha.”
The situation became clear immediately.
A man, his face flushed beet-red from drink, had drawn his sword and was leveling it at someone. In the center of the chaos, a woman was trembling, her eyes welling with tears.
“…You son of a bitch!” the man roared.
He looked to be in his forties. As for his level…
Somewhere between Second-rate and First-rate.
It was an ambiguous rank, but objectively speaking, not a bad level to achieve. It only seemed mediocre because of the literal monsters I usually dealt with. At that level, a man could easily make a comfortable living as a martial artist.
However…
People stuck at that level tend to have the shittiest personalities.
That was the stage where those without true talent hit the wall of their potential and gave up. It was the point where most settled for their reality, accepted their lot, and stopped striving. When a martial artist stops climbing that wall, they are often filled with self-loathing and redirected anger.
Perhaps that was why a disproportionate number of assholes were found at that specific rank. Most of the troublemakers caught by authorities were men of the Second-rate to First-rate level.
Is he one of those? I wondered.
“Heh heh.”
The Dishonored Venerable let out an amused chuckle. He wasn't the only one watching; a crowd had gathered outside the restaurant, murmuring amongst themselves. Unlike the Elder, however, their voices were laced with worry.
“That bastard… isn’t that Muk Doseok?”
“It is, it is. Tsk tsk… is he on another drunken rampage?”
From their reactions, the man was quite infamous—and not for anything good.
“What happened this time?”
“Well, you know Misuk.” The speaker gestured with his chin toward the trembling woman inside.
“Don’t tell me Muk Doseok is bothering Misuk again?”
“What else would it be?”
The crowd clicked their tongues in unison. It seemed the man had a history of harassing her.
“…So? Did Misuk finally snap?”
“No way. Misuk knows better; she’s always just endured it.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“Can’t you see? A young hero stepped in.”
Someone had intervened to protect the woman. Hearing this, the onlookers looked inside with even more concern.
“Oh no! This is bad. Of all people to cross, he picked Muk Doseok.”
“Quick, someone contact the Alliance! If this goes south, there’s going to be blood…”
Their urgency was genuine. If a First-rate martial artist started recklessly brandishing a blade in a crowded shop, people would die.
The problem was… they were worried about the wrong person.
I looked at Muk Doseok and sighed.
That guy is going to die.
The one in danger wasn't the person being threatened. It was Muk Doseok.
I shifted my gaze to Muk Doseok’s opponent. Sitting at a table was a figure draped in a hooded cloak. The hood was pulled so low that I couldn't see his face or gauge his age. From his build, I could only guess he was male.
But the moment I sensed his aura, I was certain.
Fusion Realm.
He was someone who had surpassed the Peak and reached the Fusion Realm.
Whether he realized it or not, Muk Doseok’s eyes blazed with drunken fury as he screamed at his opponent.
“How dare you mock me?! Do you want to die?!”
At the shout, the silent figure finally rose.
Screech.
I hadn't realized it while he was sitting, but the man was much larger than I had anticipated.
“I did not mock you,” he said.
Contrary to his imposing frame, his voice was clear and refined. He didn't sound very old.
“You ignorant fool! What do you call it if not mockery?!”
“You were coveting the body of an unwilling person. I merely admonished you for your conduct.”
“This bastard…!”
Muk Doseok ground his teeth. “Who the hell do you think you are to interfere? Is this wench your woman or something?”
Suddenly, Muk Doseok’s eyes widened as if he’d had a revelation.
“Ah, so that’s it.” He turned his glare toward Misuk. “You bitch, you were seeing this bastard behind my back, weren't you? Is that it?!”
“N-No, sir! I have never met this young master before!” the woman cried out, but Muk Doseok wasn't listening.
“So that’s why you wouldn’t give in to me! You were playing me for a fool!”
I had no idea how he had performed the mental gymnastics to reach that conclusion. Listening to him was starting to piss me off.
What a waste.
I wished I were in that man’s place. I would have ripped his tongue out before he could finish spewing that nonsense. It was a real shame.
Then, I recalled what the Dishonored Venerable had said.
He said watching a fight is the most fun.
Funnily enough, I was starting to agree with him.
“I was so good to you, and you play me like this?!”
Muk Doseok, now completely lost to his rage, began screaming at the woman. He gripped his sword, looking as if he were about to strike her down.
“Aaaaah!”
The moment the woman screamed…
Grip.
“…!”
The young man seized Muk Doseok’s sword arm.
His arm caught in a vice grip, Muk Doseok stared at the stranger with wide, surprised eyes.
“What is the point of tormenting the weak? Please, calm yourself.”
It seemed he was trying to resolve the situation peacefully. How noble.
If it were me… I would’ve ripped his arm off first.
I would have torn the limb right out of its socket. Seeing him show such restraint was a level of patience I couldn't comprehend.
And the one who understood it the least was Muk Doseok himself.
“You son of a bitch…!”
By now, he should have realized his opponent was no pushover. But he was too drunk to see straight.
“Fine! If you insist, I’ll kill you first!”
Muk Doseok twisted his body and threw a punch. The energy in his fist was thick with killing intent. He really meant to kill the man.
To attempt murder in the heart of Henan… he had some serious guts. Even drunk, I had to acknowledge that nerve.
But guts don't change the laws of strength.
Watching the incoming fist, the young man muttered softly.
“…My apologies. Please understand.”
It was a quiet voice, but I heard it clearly.
Immediately after—
Thwack!
“Gack!”
The young man’s palm struck Muk Doseok squarely in the chest. Muk Doseok’s body was launched into the air, rolling across the floor like a discarded rag. He tried to regain his footing, but…
“Cough… hack… gurgle…”
Thud.
He collapsed, vomited a few times, and lost consciousness.
The moment he went limp, the murmuring crowd fell deathly silent. Not even a breath could be heard.
As a profound silence descended upon the restaurant, the young man moved cautiously. He approached the woman, whose eyes were wide with shock.
“I apologize for the disturbance.”
“Ah… ahh… n-no…”
“You seem quite startled.”
Speaking to the woman, who could barely form a reply, he reached into his robes and pulled out a silver coin.
“This is for the food and to express my regret for the commotion. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me.”
The young man pressed the silver coin into the woman’s hand, then turned and walked out of the restaurant.
He brushed past me as he left. I glanced sideways at him. His face was completely hidden by the deep hood, but I could faintly make out a pair of yellow eyes from within the shadows of the cloak.
For a fleeting moment, those eyes met mine.
“...”
Whoosh!
A light breeze blew, and the young man’s presence vanished.
Only then did the onlookers release the breath they had been holding.
“W-What in the world was that?”
“Did you see that?!”
The murmuring started up again as people rushed into the restaurant to check on the situation. Meanwhile, I was mentally replaying the single move the young man had executed.
Hmm.
A short strike to the chest. It seemed like a simple movement, but it reminded me of something specific.
I looked over at the table where the young man had been sitting. There were half-eaten dumplings and other dishes left behind.
“...”
I had a lot to think about.
“Kek kek.” Beside me, the Dishonored Venerable chuckled. “Are you going to go after him?”
“...”
I clicked my tongue internally. It seemed the Dishonored Venerable had noticed my interest.
“Go on. The Immortal Healer is still asleep anyway.”
“…You said you had something to tell me.”
“We can talk about that later. Rather than standing there with that constipated look on your face, just go. It’s bothering me.”
“...”
After considering the Elder’s words for a moment, I turned around.
“Then, I’ll be back shortly.”
The Dishonored Venerable was right. Things that bothered me had to be resolved one way or another. Especially in a situation like this.
* * *
In a forest near Henan.
It was a secluded path some distance from the city, a place rarely frequented by travelers.
Thud.
A figure landed in a small clearing. It was the young man from the restaurant.
“…Hoo.”
After scanning the forest to ensure he was alone, the young man finally caught his breath. Only then did he remove his hooded cloak.
A shiny, bald head was revealed, glistening under the moonlight. It was slightly damp with sweat. The young man wiped it with a cloth, a practiced habit.
“A pity,” he muttered, his voice tinged with genuine regret.
Yes, it was a tragedy.
“I barely had one bite…”
He had snuck out to find that restaurant, a place he had sought out with great difficulty. His heart had been full of excitement, yet he had managed only a single bite before the trouble started. To think he had to leave in such a paltry fashion. It was a truly bitter feeling.
“…Well, it was time to go back anyway.”
As if to console himself, the young man looked off into the distance. He had come out on borrowed time; he would have had to return soon regardless. He had to think of it that way.
“…Next time… yes, next time.”
I’ll take more time to eat.
The young man nodded as if making a solemn vow. Just as he was about to hurry on his way—
“You know.”
Flinch.
A voice came from behind him.
Startled, the young man whipped his head around. Beyond the darkness of the trees, someone was speaking.
Who is it?
As the young man stared, trying to hide his cold sweat, a figure emerged.
“I can somehow understand a Wudang bastard eating meat. But in all my life…”
The newcomer wore an expression of pure disbelief. He was dressed in a black uniform, his eyes astonishingly fierce. He had appeared out of nowhere.
“Isn’t a rogue monk eating meat going a bit too far?”
“...”
Hearing this, the young man—the Heavenly Dragon, Yu Yeon—could do nothing but scowl deeply.