Chapter 93
In martial artists' duels, even the sturdiest shields get sliced by swords. It'd be normal for accidents to happen constantly where limbs get severed, even if no one dies. The protagonist, his comrades, his lover, his friends... even when they lose, it's just torn clothes or spitting up blood.
A few days later, they're all healed up and rejoining the protagonist's adventure or schedule. But that's because these are novels, comics, and movies built on commercial appeal.
Tricky.
For example, in the wuxia novel Is This Heavenly Demon Real?, what if the beauty the protagonist loves loses a leg in battle? It'd be realistic, but if his beloved woman ends up in a wheelchair from one mistake or defeat, the protagonist's mind would shatter. Readers immersed in the story would feel the same!
Me too...
What if I heard Song Seon-yeong had been in a car accident or assaulted? I'd lose it. In other words, "I'll kill you...!" "You dare hit my woman?!" "The Emei Divine Sword's vengeance!" That's the normal reaction for a man.
Men who adore the married Emei Divine Sword—who's wed to her sword—came at me with weapons to avenge her.
That's how a man should be.
Petty stuff like Nam Hae-su secretly sending kissy texts to slander or hiring thugs and snipers isn't manly. In that sense, I didn't mind these guys who expressed their feelings so clearly. "Come on, then."
The guts and bravado to charge even knowing they couldn't win! Isn't it cool? So for men willing to throw their lives away for the woman they love, I decided to make them never love again.
Thwack!
Stab!
"......"
"......"
The men's faces paled as they grasped what happened to their charging comrades.
"Gurgle gurgle..."
"Shiver shiver..."
Clutching their groins with both hands, foaming at the mouth, they never got back up.
"We gotta avenge her, right?"
"...Haha! Sorry for the trouble!"
"...Sorry for the commotion!"
"...We respect you, great hero!"
Their love cooled, the men ebbed away like the tide, vanishing into the crowd.
No real contenders, huh.
The Emei Divine Sword apparently wasn't Mao Zai's type.
"Young Master Kang~"
"Yeah."
Mi-bong, who'd pledged her underwear as collateral for my meals. She stuck to my side all day, making me wonder how she handled her... personal needs.
Of course, I wasn't just freeloading off her. For instance,
"Gah-?!" Thwack!
Thugs lurking in the chaotic crowd, eyeing chances to kidnap Mi-bong. I knew tracking one would just let another approach, so I couldn't take them all at once.
"So hearty~"
Mi-bong beamed at the thug I'd downed with a thrown stone.
"Does this happen often?"
In the original novel, the protagonist protected her too, but I hadn't realized it'd be this annoying. Did they never give up? It felt like every thug in Sichuan Province was swarming like moths to a flame.
"Yes. Normally, Blade Dragon and Fist Dragon guard me."
"Cool guys."
Food, shelter, and bodyguards! As a fellow man, I almost felt pity for them.
Is Mi-bong worth all that?
Good family, pretty... One look at the average women around her, and I got it. Modern women doll up and take care, so the ratio of cute or beautiful ones is pretty high. Or at least, I never thought otherwise—until I saw this world's average.
Tough living? No martial arts training? Poor nutrition?
Not just Mi-bong. The Emei Divine Sword and Sword Phoenix seemed like a different species from regular women.
Come to think of it... in the romance fantasy novel I Became the Youngest Daughter of the Count Family, noblewomen stood out too.
"Gwahack?!" Thwack!
After stoning a thug chasing a glimpse of Mi-bong's rear,
"Let's head to the arena quick."
"Sure~"
Off to fight the fifth most beautiful woman in the world of Is This Heavenly Demon Real?
* * *
Wuxia. Tales of upholding justice with mighty martial arts. But endless brawls would get repetitive fast, killing commercial appeal. The author of Is This Heavenly Demon Real? was a slave to capitalism too, so they didn't ditch it.
Love! Romance! Jealousy! Timeless themes from ancient to modern that never lose demand. But there's a condition.
"You're as beautiful as the rumors say."
"More than me, Young Master Kang?"
"...Nah. Settings-wise, it'd be too much to top Mi-bong."
"Settings?"
"It's a thing."
In the original novel, the author (protagonist) ranked women by his subjective tastes.
1st. Heavenly First Beauty
2nd. Mi-bong
3rd. Blue-Eyed Princess
4th. Emei Fairy
...and so on!
Subjective or not, it's the world-builder's 'rule'—can't overturn it. Like in I Became the Youngest Daughter of the Count Family, where hot guys blindly crave the protagonist. It's law.
Am I getting shaman-like?
Kang Moon-soo, who panicked when Song Seon-yeong tried to kill herself. Now he understood dreams and handled them smoothly!
"Young Master Kang! Glare at the Emei Fairy acting all haughty!"
"Ha, ha..."
With Mi-bong's cheers full of ulterior motives, I stepped into the arena.
Preliminaries, second match. The last surviving female martial artist in the Sichuan Martial Tournament stared me down.
Can't be helped.
The Emei Fairy was the Emei Divine Sword's junior sister—like a big sis from the same school! Natural she'd crave vengeance.
Whatever. Mr. Mao Zai, you watching?
The fourth most beautiful woman in Is This Heavenly Demon Real?'s world was moments from being groped by a brute. Perfect to stir a meddlesome dreamer like Mao Zai.
"Kang Moon-soo."
"......"
The Emei Fairy ignored my greeting, radiating hostility. I ignored her and crouched into starting stance again...
Ting! The referee tossed a coin.
Whoa, check this out.
Whoosh! Judging she couldn't match my speed, the Emei Fairy moved before the coin hit the ground. Clear foul!
"......"
But the referee—also judge—pretended not to see. In cahoots? Whatever.
"Yahp-!"
She swung her sword vertically at my still-crouched head with skull-crushing force, shouting her kiai. Right then—tok—the weighted coin hit dirt.
Can't let that slide.
As planned, I kicked off the ground! In an instant, I burrowed into her guard and headbutted.
Crack!
"......"
"......"
My brain cells are precious, so I held back. Enough to ruin her balance—and her nose bridge to boot! No chance for counter.
Before she yields...
Crack!
Taekwondo's basic yet devastating roundhouse! Martial artists with qi are strong, but athletes with qi are overwhelming.
"...Not bad."
"......"
I aimed to kill in one hit, but she sacrificed her left arm to deflect, shielding organs with qi.
So the finisher? None—
"Stop."
"You mean to make an enemy of Emei Sect?"
"The match is decided."
Aunties and grannies from Emei Sect rushed the arena, forcing a halt.
Emei Sect. In wuxia, if Shaolin Temple's a Buddhist academy for men, Emei's a girls-only school. That's all you need to know.
"...Fine."
I'd achieved my goal anyway—no complaints.
Glance. A finger-sized blade pierced the ground between us.
Flying Dagger.
Without that interference, she'd be dead before the aunties and grannies jumped in.
The direction it came from...
"......"
A young man in the stands glared at me, face stiff.
Bingo.
Found Mao Zai.
* * *
True romantics among martial heroes always defend beautiful women. Do the opposite? You're flagged for death by the romantic protagonist soon after! It's law.
"Fist King, sir."
"Don't talk to me. I'm dying here because of you. Shouldn't have recommended you..."
The Fist King grumbled but trailed me anyway. Ridiculous.
"What'd I even do?"
"What if you crush Emei Sect's rising stars?"
"Should I throw the fight?"
"Who said throw? Give 'em a chance to show their arts, praise 'em a word or two—"
"Kill 'em?"
"Don't kill! Watch other fighters for reference."
"Hmm..."
I had. Felt like second-year middle schoolers from modern times possessed them.
Shout technique names like in shonen manga and trade blows one-for-one? Imagining myself doing it made me dizzy.
"Young Master Kang. Fight like that, and deaths'll pile up."
"No rules say how to fight in a martial tournament, right?"
"It's martial courtesy."
"Aha!"
Like the stuffy chivalry Valentine taught me, but even more grave.
"Listen well. Efficiently cycle your qi to drain the opponent's first."
"......"
"Why all martial artists bet lives on supreme arts. Same talent and time, different results... Young Master Kang?"
"......"
"Are you listening to this old man?"
"Nope."
"Ugh... From now on, give time for them to unleash arts. That's respecting effort and mercy to the weak—righteousness."
"Got it."
One thing clear: Why martial artists join tournaments fearlessly. Fight till qi depletes, yield—no risk of death or lost limbs.
Just like... a VR game.
I'd never played one, but I'd heard the convenience store owner's explanations plenty. HP, MP, stamina... when a red or blue bar hits zero, you die. Avatars in VR games, anyway. No real death, no fear.
"Young Master Kang~"
"Yeah."
"Who're you looking for?"
Mi-bong eyed me suspiciously as I scanned the empty seats where Mao Zai had sat.
Reading her thoughts, I tossed out casually,
"Not a woman."
"Shall this girl help you search?"
Mi-bong's foxy eyes turned maternal as she offered.
"Hmm. Young man in his mid-twenties, gray martial robes embroidered with a black dragon. Handsome enough to steal any girl's heart at a glance."
"That's... spot-on Ma-ryong."
Mi-bong pegged him instantly from my description.
Ma-ryong (Demon Dragon). Heavenly Demon's disciple. Protagonist. Top suspect for Mao Zai's possession even before I entered the dream.
"I figured, but I've never seen him myself."
"He's right there."
"Hm?"
I followed her slender finger.
Oh... bingo for real.
Mao Zai—who'd thrown the dagger and fled—sat casually in distant stands.
Whoosh! Our eyes met; he turned away.
"...What?"
"Didn't you know? Ma-ryong's so shy he can't even meet women's eyes."
"......"
Absurd. The protagonist who marries every beauty in the martial world (wives excluded) is an introverted nerd? Way too different.
In other words, confirmed! Proof the protagonist's soul is someone else.
"Fist King, sir. Watch Mi-bong for me. If we go together, Ma-ryong'll bolt again."
"Very well."
Securing Mi-bong—who collateralized her undies for my keep—is priority.
"Young Master Kang. Be careful. Ma-ryong's only weak to women."
"Don't worry. I'm only weak to women too."
"Pardon?"
"Be back."
I patted her head to reassure her.
Flick—thunk.
A flying dagger straight at me! If I hadn't snatched it midair, my skull would've been pierced.
It's real.
I walked slowly toward the merciless-to-men Mao Zai.