The Sound of the Hammer Rings for Whom
Who was the hammer ringing for?
As Cheong took one step closer, Dan Un-sak scrambled away on one arm and one leg, crawling desperately. Ignoring him, Cheong picked up the fallen man’s sword and swung it a few times. The weight was perfectly balanced, and the blade was a flawless, vivid blue without a single nick. Even after drinking blood, not a single drop clung to it. Truly, it was a masterpiece worthy of being called a famous sword… Blood?
Cheong bent her elbow and examined her forearm. A wound split a full knuckle deep was pouring blood in steady streams. No wonder it had been throbbing and stinging. But strangely, there was a subtle addictive quality to the pain. At this level, it wasn’t bad at all.
With blood dripping from her fingertips, Cheong looked down at Dan Un-sak again and spoke.
“Hand over the scabbard.”
“I-I’ll give it to you!”
“I need it. Hurry up. I’m getting dizzy from all this blood loss.”
After receiving the scabbard, Cheong spoke again.
“No, seriously. Why would someone with such a fine blade go around harassing an old man from the iron workshop? Do you use twin blades? Is it the same in Murim that no one who uses twin blades is ever normal? They say it’s the symbol of social disability.”
“T-that’s not it. Any sect would naturally covet such an iron workshop if they saw one……”
“What? Naturally? This bastard is seriously hilarious. So kidnapping someone’s grandson, selling him off, and cutting off his livelihood so he starves to death is also natural?”
“That’s……”
“Living like that, it’s only natural you end up dying by the sword. If you commit a crime, you naturally have to pay the price. Even if your head gets chopped off here, it’s just a natural death. So if the King of Hell asks why you died when you get to the afterlife, answer that you were a bastard who deserved to die, so you naturally died. Got it?”
“W-wait……!”
Cheong strode forward with long, purposeful steps. Dan Un-sak crawled desperately, but the mobility contest between two legs and one arm and one leg was as mismatched as a race between an insomnia-plagued rabbit and a turtle.
Before long, Cheong had the sword pressed right under his chin.
“Stop acting pathetic and just offer your neck nicely.”
“Please, spare me—hic!”
Cheong raised the sword high. Dan Un-sak held up his palm to block it, but that kind of defense was only possible for someone who had learned the Sosu Magong. And then—
Swoosh!
“Aaaargh!”
A person with their throat cut cannot scream. However, Dan Un-sak, who had been sliced vertically from palm to below the shoulder and split into two, most certainly could.
“You should’ve died cleanly. Why did you have to mess with someone else’s arm? Using your heart like that is exactly why you ended up like this.”
His right arm was missing everything below the elbow, his left arm had been split into two, and one leg was crippled. Even if left alone for half a shichen—no, even one ke—he would die. Yet he still tried to crawl away on one foot, hoping to survive. Unless the heavens were moved by his sincerity and a cloud-riding immortal descended to save him, his chances of living were already gone.
Cheong turned away without a shred of lingering attachment. Her arm was injured, but she had gained the Wolgwang-geom (No. 9), so she supposed it was a fair trade. The Wolgwang-geom (No. 9) was longer and thicker than the Wolgwang-geom (No. 8), nearly half again as heavy. The weight felt just right.
The iron workshop that supplied weapons to the Sinnyeo Sect made lighter swords because they were intended for women. The Wolgwang-geom (No. 8) had been the same—lighter than a sword meant for a man. For someone with Cheong’s monstrous strength, it had felt like she was swinging nothing at all. She used to wonder if the Jedi from those movies felt the same way when holding their lightsabers.
“What are you all doing? Kneel.”
Cheong spoke to the Namyeon-pa disciples who had been watching nervously. For those from the Evil Faction, kneeling was part of the basic curriculum learned the moment one joined. When the moment called for it, the action came out instinctively.
Watching the disciples drop to their knees without hesitation, Cheong clicked her tongue loud enough for everyone to hear and muttered,
“Tsk. They listen so well. I thought I’d have to cut down two or three before they’d obey. What a shame.”
The disciples’ spines went cold at the sound. She hadn’t said it quietly on purpose. With a single remark, Cheong had successfully seized the initiative.
After that, Dang Nan-a slapped her on the back in frustration, upset that she was injured again. Then, pulling out a roll of cloth from somewhere, she began wrapping it around the wound while grumbling that since even sword qi couldn’t pierce Cheong’s ridiculous muscles, she had no confidence in sticking a needle in, so this was the best she could do.
She wrapped so much bandage that Cheong’s arm grew visibly thicker by the second. Losing interest, Cheong shouted again.
“If any of you sold Old Man Ban’s grandson, raise your hand. I won’t hurt you, so come forward honestly. I swear on my master’s name.”
An oath sworn on one’s master’s name by a Righteous Faction martial artist was an unconditionally verified truth. It didn’t work as well with Evil Faction practitioners since master-disciple relationships there could be as hostile as sworn enemies. Still, even if their methods were excessive, these people spoke like heroes of the Righteous Faction. Perhaps that was why one man hesitantly raised his hand.
“Good. Then everyone, destroy your own dantians. Begin. Oh, right. Those of you who claim to be Peak realm experts are exempt.”
At that, one middle-aged man and two elders stood up with relieved expressions and quietly moved to the side. They even looked a little smug about it.
“The rest of you can give up either your dantian or your head. If you don’t break it within ten seconds, I’ll break your head myself. One. Two—where do you think you’re going!”
Kneeling was a posture to show respect or submission. It was not meant to be used to gain momentum for escape. Otherwise, there would be no excuse when a flying hairpin pierced your throat. Even Dang Nan-a, who had been wrapping the bandages, reacted at the same time, so two throwing knives flew in as a bonus.
Gurgle……
Since the fatal wound was in the throat, the disciple who had dared to attempt escape using the momentum of standing up crawled across the floor, foaming at the mouth.
“Four. No. I don’t get it. Five. Does breaking your dantian kill you? Six. I said I’d spare you and you still throw a tantrum. Seven.”
Even after the dantian was destroyed, unless it was a special cultivation method, the bones and meridians remained intact. The result was a martial artist who could easily handle ordinary civilians but was worse than a third-rate thug who didn’t know proper martial arts and better than a second-rate who could handle a bit of qi. If one had to classify it, it would be about 2.5—using Central Plains numbering, a second-rate half martial artist.
“Eight. Nine. Time’s up. Let’s see.”
Cheong’s eyes gleamed as she looked over the kneeling martial artists. Every single one of them had faint traces of blood at the corners of their mouths. It seemed they really had all destroyed their own dantians without exception.
That was when it happened.
“This bastard bit his tongue and faked destroying his dantian!”
Apparently annoyed that someone had pretended to break his dantian without actually doing so, a public interest informant had appeared. After delivering appropriate punishment, Cheong took out a gold ingot from her pouch, broke off half, and tossed it to the informant.
“Here. You’re free now. Get out. You’ve come into a lot of money, so be careful on your way.”
The public interest informant blinked, then shouted a loud “Thank you!” and hurriedly left the manor.
Cheong didn’t stop him. A proper reward and protection were naturally due to a public interest informant.
Then she held up the remaining half ingot.
“Anyone need gold? If you report a bastard who didn’t break his dantian and tried to sneak away alone, you get half a gold ingot. Since you’ve lost your inner energy, you’ll need living expenses for a while.”
And lo and behold, there were two more sneaky bastards. More precious gold left her hands, and two more informants left the manor, each clutching half an ingot.
“Um… what about us……?”
“You three are high-level experts. It would be wasteful to release you carelessly. Should I hand you over to the government office? Nan-a, seal their blood points for me.”
“Blood points? Even a first-class expert can block those easily……”
“Then should I destroy your dantians first?”
The three Peak realm experts immediately screamed.
“We won’t resist!”
“We’ll obediently let you seal our blood points and go to the government office!”
“That’s what they said. Go ahead and seal them.”
And so the three Peak realm experts collapsed to the floor with their blood points sealed.
At that moment, Jegal Ihyeon whispered quietly.
“Sister, the government office in Jumadian is in league with them anyway. Even if you hand them over, they’ll be released immediately.”
“I know. But if I use the government office as an excuse, they’ll obediently let their blood points be sealed, won’t they?”
Certain acupoints had mysterious effects—stopping bleeding with inner energy, paralyzing the body, sealing the mouth, or inducing sleep. Seomun Su-rin had once demonstrated them on her disciple, saying Cheong should experience each at least once. In Cheong’s opinion, the most horrifying was the sleep-inducing point. Waking up from it brought an absolutely terrible headache. If not for that side effect, there would be no insomniacs in the Central Plains.
“As expected, Sister. You are truly a master at deceiving others. Your despicable schemes that take advantage of human psychology leave this foolish younger brother in endless admiration. I can do nothing but continue to admire you.”
“Why does it sound like a compliment but feel so insulting? Can’t you just keep those thoughts to yourself from now on?”
“My apologies, Sister. But as an immature strategist, how could I possibly hold back my exclamations of admiration?”
In the end, it meant he was going to keep doing it.
What the hell? Did I do something to upset Jegal Ihyeon?
Cheong tilted her head in confusion.
“Alright. Everyone except the one who sold Old Man Ban’s grandson can leave. The party’s over, so it’s time to go home.”
Cheong waved her hand, shooing the second-rate half martial artists outside.
“Ah, Great Hero. What about me……”
“You’re coming with me to find Old Man Ban’s grandson. I’ll release you once it’s done, so don’t worry.”
“Ah, yes……”
“Now. Let’s go. Uimae, can you handle these guys and then come to the iron workshop? Is that okay? If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”
Cheong pointed at the three Peak realm experts whose blood points had been sealed. Understanding the meaning, Gyeon Po-hui gave a dazzlingly bright smile and nodded.
“Ah! Okay! I got it!”
It would be a waste to just kill high-level experts like Peak realm martial artists outright. She should feed the weak Uimae some live medicinal herbs and help her grow stronger.
---
When they returned to the Banga Iron Workshop, Old Man Ban was waiting with a rope tied to the main beam.
“What kind of creepy interior decoration is that?”
“Mind your own business. Still… I never thought I’d live to see this day.”
“The Namyeon-pa is finished. I killed their leader.”
The old man’s pupils trembled. Then, suddenly desperate, he grabbed Cheong.
“What about my grandson? Did you find him?”
“They said he was sold to the Black Market. Since the guy who sold him is right here, I’m going to go get a refund. Hmm? Is it still called a refund when you’re buying back something that was sold? Jegal, what do you call it when you go to undo a sale?”
“Wouldn’t it be more like a repurchase?”
There were still two months left until the Murim Competition in May. It would be fine to go there and relax, but using the remaining time productively wouldn’t be bad either.
“So take down that hideous rope and wait. Also, tell me what your grandson looks like.”
Life returned to Old Man Ban’s previously fish-like eyes.
“Please find my grandson, Ja-kwon. If you just find my grandson, I’ll do anything. I’ll make you a sword, anything you want. No, I won’t even refuse the position of weapons master……”
“No thanks. Who needs a weapons master?”
“You don’t need one? You’re saying that because you don’t know. The piece I made in my youth was none other than the Seocheong Sword. How many swordsmiths in the world do you think are on my level?”
“The Seocheong Sword!”
Jegal Ihyeon shouted loudly. Cheong chuckled and said,
“The fact that Jegal is shouting means it must be an absolutely incredible famous sword. The old man who swore he’d never make weapons again is suddenly offering now. There must be some story behind why he refused before.”
“That’s……”
“Whether it’s blackmail or a favor, forcing someone who says no is no different from what the sect leader did. There’s no reason to become the same kind of bastard he was.”
The old man stared with his mouth agape in a stupid expression. Cheong laughed and continued.
“If the refund—no, the repurchase—doesn’t work, I’ll at least throw a tantrum, so take care of your health, old man. If I bring your grandson back only to find you dead, no one can take responsibility for that.”