Desperate Real-Time Copy
“Why is he taking so long…!”
A tall, thin man with pale skin snapped in an irritated voice. He kept glancing toward the white tents in the distance where the entrance exams were underway, chewing on his nails.
“Young Master Second, I’ve confirmed it.”
One of his subordinates came running up, out of breath.
“What took you so long? How long ago did I give the order?!”
“My apologies for the delay.”
“At this rate, how am I supposed to compete with Eldest Brother and Third?!”
At the razor-edged shout, the subordinate bowed his head again and again.
“There are simply too many watching eyes at Cheonsubaekryeonsa. Our movements were heavily restricted.”
“Enough. That bastard who’s been taking the exam unusually long—are you certain it’s him?”
The subordinate nodded.
“Yes. It is Moyong Bi. And as you asked, both Young Master First and Young Master Third are also confirmed to be inside Cheonsubaekryeonsa. With this, it is officially verified that every young master of the Moyong Family has applied for this intake.”
“I knew it… those bastards.”
Moyong Gangcheon, second son of the Moyong Family, bit his lip hard.
—Kwadududu…
The ground trembled faintly. The exam time had already expired. It had been more than a full gak since Moyong Bi entered. The entrance exams, which had been progressing at a brisk pace, were now dragging on. People were murmuring. Even the proctor who should have been inside the testing ground stood at the entrance, peeling fruit and looking completely at a loss. From beyond the thick white tent came the faint ringing of steel.
The subordinate carefully watched Moyong Gangcheon’s expression and spoke cautiously.
“Young Master, your next orders….”
“Orders? What orders?! I don’t even know what that bastard of unknown origin is doing in there!”
Unable to hold back any longer, Moyong Gangcheon exploded, shouting at the top of his lungs.
“Damn it, what the hell is that filthy-blooded bastard doing inside?!”
“Hah! Hah!”
—Juruk.
My bloodshot eyes welled with blood and spilled bloody tears. With a trembling right hand I wiped them away.
This fucking…
You dog bastard.
I spat out a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva and muttered.
—Pishishik.
The cheap steel sword had finally become scrap metal after that last form. He had said I would demonstrate two forms, but I had never intended to show two in the first place. Among the forms I could currently use, the only one that carried any legitimacy and would not raise suspicion was the Moyong Family form I had copied from Moyong Taese—the Moyong Family’s Ssangryong-seonpung-geom, the Twin Dragons Whirlwind Sword.
I delayed as long as possible before unleashing it. Only when the time limit of one gak was nearly up did I suddenly launch the Twin Dragons Whirlwind Sword. Pouring everything I had into that single strike, I hoped it would end the exam right there. After all, the test was simply to spar with Pahwanggun for the duration of one gak.
It was a form that consumed a great deal of internal energy. I felt the pitiful amount of energy I possessed—barely the size of a chestnut—drain away by more than half in that single use. Still, I had been fairly confident. Even Pahwanggun had placed a thirty-percent restriction on himself. And because the form was unexpectedly powerful, I thought I would catch him off guard. Of course he would block it. Then, after struggling to stop it, he would be satisfied and pass me. That was the flow I had imagined.
And as always, reality unfolded differently from my expectations.
“Hahaha! You bastard. How can someone your age execute the Twin Dragons Whirlwind Sword so maturely?!”
Blood was spraying from Pahwanggun’s body. There was one thing I had overlooked.
Crazy bastard.
I had not realized just how deep his craving for combat ran. At his level, there was no way he failed to recognize the opening form of the Twin Dragons Whirlwind Sword the moment he saw it. Common sense said he should have lightly deflected and blocked it. But he did not. The instant he recognized it as the Twin Dragons Whirlwind Sword, his face filled with pure joy. He threw both arms wide open and took the form head-on.
“I never imagined an examinee would come who could execute a form this perfectly! Hahaha! Good, very good!”
Pahwanggun tore off his tattered upper robe. His eyes glittered with excitement. That was no longer the gaze of someone administering a test.
“S-sir, one gak has already passed…!”
Wrong. His eyes had flipped. They were the eyes of a wolf that had starved for a month staring at a delicious chunk of meat tossed in front of it—nothing more, nothing less.
“The restriction of showing only thirty percent of my strength is truly regrettable! But within that limit, shall we play a little?!”
His figure vanished.
Ah.
A chill ran down my spine. This was no longer a test. I tried to move and create distance. But Pahwanggun was already right in front of me. I twisted my body sideways to dodge. A fist filled my entire vision.
—Baaaak!
My toes lifted slightly off the ground.
“Kuaaak!”
“Where do you think you’re going?!”
He grabbed my hair. My body, which had been flying, jerked to a stop. Before I could even draw a breath, a fist slammed into my abdomen.
—Kwang! Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!
Pain as if my guts were being forced out of my body stabbed into my brain.
“Uwek!”
Stomach acid and spit sprayed out.
Is this a fucking test, you crazy bastard?
My hair, unable to withstand the force, tore free and my body went flying. Before my slightly lifted toes could even touch the ground again, a vicious kick drove into my side. My body lifted, then smashed into the marble floor hard enough to shatter it and bounced away.
“Haa, haa!”
With my head split open and my body covered in blood, I desperately crawled out from between the stone fragments.
“That’s right—don’t you dare pass out with just that! I knew the moment I looked into your eyes! I’ve missed it. Someone like you who carries killing intent!”
Pahwanggun approached. It seemed I had touched something in that perverted bastard that should never have been touched. No one came to stop this.
“This isn’t the end, is it? Show me the Twin Dragons Whirlwind Sword one more time! I want to see it! Your form filled with killing intent!”
Even if someone came to stop him now, it would be far too late. All they would find was my corpse turned into chunks of meat. In the end, I had to resolve this myself. But how? How was I supposed to do it? The exam no longer mattered. At this rate I was going to die. Legitimacy was no longer the issue.
“Mumyeong! Get ready!”
What? Don’t tell me.
Mumyeong’s urgent voice rang out.
Wait, Host. This is orthodox territory. If the other party recognizes it, how do you plan to deal with the aftermath?
“I’ll just have to pray he doesn’t recognize it!”
Do you really think that makes sense right now?
“If I don’t, I die! I’m going to die right now, you bastard!”
…Understood.
—Giiing!
Both my eyes filled with blood vessels and turned crimson.
“What.”
Pahwanggun’s footsteps stopped. My pupils trembled and dyed red. My presence changed.
“…This is no joke.”
The smile vanished from Pahwanggun’s face. His eyes flashed. I clenched my teeth and adjusted my grip on the sword. The martial art I would draw upon was the strongest among those I had currently copied!
Second-rate — Blood Death Sect’s Blood Demon Snake-Wheel Brush Sword
Tearing through the air, crimson snakes resonated with my will and let out a ghostly wail.
—Kyaaaa!!
The essence of the Blood Demon Cult’s secret Blood Demon Snake-Wheel Brush Sword activated together with the color of a scarlet blaze. Blood-like crimson snakes coiled around both my arms as the Blood Demon Snake-Wheel Brush Sword was unleashed.
—Kwa-kwa-kwa!
I poured nearly every scrap of energy I had left into it. The will to tear the opponent apart and kill him pierced through the form. The crimson snakes shattered the floor of the training ground as they lunged at Pahwanggun.
“I’ve never seen a martial art like this before!”
Pahwanggun’s face hardened. Blue haze gathered in his hands and swept out with a sharp wave.
Blue waves and crimson snakes tangled, biting and tearing at each other.
In a single instant the crimson snakes shattered even the blue waves and charged at Pahwanggun.
“No!”
Pahwanggun’s eyes flew wide with shock. A crimson shockwave wrapped around his body. The marble of the floor fragmented and sprayed in every direction.
—Chijik-chiik
Stone shards sliced past my cheek. My clothes hung in tatters. Dust filled the air thickly. For the briefest moment I thought it had landed. Then Mumyeong’s urgent cry pierced my skull.
He’s coming!
From within the thick smoke, Pahwanggun’s shout rang out.
“This is the basic footwork of our sect that boasts the highest efficiency—the Hwan-yeong-dae-sin-bo, the Phantom Great Divine Steps!”
It was blue lightning. Pahwanggun’s body, moving at a terrifying speed, was wrapped in blue lightning. His figure split into two and rushed at me.
Shit.
I could not tell which was real. I threw the scrap-metal sword aside and hurriedly curled my body.
“Ridiculous!”
A fist slammed into my cheek. Two more drove into my abdomen. A knee kicked my side and bent me over, then a kick caught my chin. A spinning back kick twisted my neck as if it would snap and sent me tumbling.
“Aaaagh!”
I coughed up blood and somehow forced my body upright. It was clear now. That bastard could knock me out whenever he wanted, yet he was not doing so. He was toying with me. Like a cat that enjoys a rat baring its teeth and charging even while taking wounds itself.
“What an incomprehensible bastard. You show highly complete forms, then that idiotic defense just now… are you mocking me?”
—Seuseuseuk.
His figure split into two again as he approached. Black blood poured from the corner of my mouth. With trembling eyes I stared ahead. Unlike before, Pahwanggun was acting a little more cautiously, on guard. Hands clasped behind his back, he circled like a lion closing in for the final kill, steadily narrowing the distance.
I need footwork!
I had no footwork that could match that speed. The footwork I already knew was so crude that even if I used it, it would be slower than a full-out sprint—something too embarrassing to even call footwork.
It’s hard to breathe.
I gasped for air thick with the metallic stench of blood.
What do I do? How?
I regretted it. I should have prepared a countermeasure for footwork long ago. So Yeomgyo’s movements had clearly been ghostly and elusive. I should have paid attention to that. More than any flashy form, that had been the true value. With footwork I could at least have run. For someone who put survival first, footwork was what I needed most, yet my third-rate thinking had never even considered it. And that failure to prepare in advance was now leading straight to my death.
Before me, drowning in regret, the opponent’s wavering figure approached like the shimmer of a reaper. “Haa, haa.” Even to my eyes it was a simple, honest movement. I finally understood what Pahwanggun meant when he said it was the most basic footwork yet showed the highest efficiency. The most perfect technique is the foundation. The footwork Pahwanggun displayed was endlessly concise, a short, repeating pattern.
“Wait.”
A single thought flashed through my mind.
“Could that method work?”
I had no idea whether it would succeed. I had never done it under such pressure before. But the target was a martial art of simple structure. I thought it might be possible.
“Fuck it—come what may!”
I spread my palm.
—Giiing!
My presence transformed. Both my eyes dyed a deep, burning red.
Real-time copy of the opponent’s current footwork
A damp voice pierced through my mind. A acrid, burnt smell rose from my entire body and stabbed my nose. Whether it turned to porridge or rice…!
I clenched my teeth. As if vomiting blood, as if screaming, I cried out.
“Namsang…!”
The final card chosen by someone without footwork. It was none other than copying Pahwanggun’s current footwork in real time.
“…?!”
The smile vanished completely from Pahwanggun’s face.
The Heavenly Demon copies martial arts.