The Flute That Wasn't There

But that wasn’t the case at all. It happened right as Yeom Saraedal came sprinting back in a panic. The three youngest members guarding the excavation site greeted their leader with bright, clueless smiles. Yeom Saraedal was about to explode in rage when their next words made him freeze.

“Captain! We found it! We actually found it!”

“It came out on the ninetieth try!”

Yeom Saraedal felt like sunlight breaking through the clouds. This meant the mission was complete! Even if the Advance Blue Wave Unit had suffered catastrophic losses, he now had something to say for himself. After all, he—the real expert—had survived, and the Deputy Leader would return after dealing with only the royal descendant of the Great Justice Gate. That much would be enough to save face.

“What about the Boksinjeok? Did you find the Boksinjeok?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you found it.”

The youngest members exchanged nervous glances. Yeom Saraedal spat out a curse.

“You didn’t even check for that? You fucking idiots.”

The youngest members felt wronged. But Yeom Saraedal was already impatient.

“Where is it? Hurry, hurry up and move!”

He urged them on, heart racing. There was no telling when the Great Justice Gate bastards would come crashing in. They would quickly realize the smoke screen contained no poison and could climb the mountain to reach this spot. Yeom Saraedal knew the way and had returned straight here, but the enemy didn’t know the paths and would get lost—though if they were unlucky, they could still be discovered at any moment.

Seeing his urgency, the youngest members quietly led Yeom Saraedal to the grave-robbing site. The tomb chamber of the Heavenly Marquis, built without any burial mound, was not an easy place to find even with a map. On top of that, trees had grown over it, their roots tangled so tightly that digging itself was backbreaking labor. No wonder they’d had to resort to kidnapping people just to secure enough hands for the digging.

Of course, it was also a decision heavily influenced by the Advance Blue Wave Unit’s selfish desire to avoid having their elite warriors—who were at least first-class martial artists—reduced to mere diggers.

Beneath the excavated earth, gray stone walls were revealed. They were clearly man-made bricks stacked with purpose. Yeom Saraedal realized his mistake. There was no way the entrance would conveniently appear just by digging straight down. The mission to locate the Heavenly Marquis’s tomb chamber and dig for it had already been going on for eight months. Simply finding the underground chamber was impressive enough. Normally, they would now have to mobilize every laborer to dig left and right until they located the proper entrance.

But there was no time. Even though finding the Boksinjeok and returning to the Divine Cult was practically their only lifeline left.

“Step back.”

Yeom Saraedal lifted his iron hammer. If there was no time to dig further, he would simply smash his way in.

With the momentum of pouring every last bit of his remaining internal energy into the strike, he brought the hammer down on the stone wall.

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

Being the one chased, every time the harsh cracking sound rang out, his heart sank with dread. Yeom Saraedal gritted his teeth.

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

How long had he been hammering the wall like that? Finally, the bricks collapsed inward with a clatter. Beyond them yawned a pitch-black darkness.

“Torch.”

“Huh?”

“I said give me a torch.”

“Ah. I’ll prepare one right away.”

“You son of a bitch! Shouldn’t you have prepared it in advance? Didn’t you see me smashing the damn wall?”

Yeom Saraedal roared. The youngest members felt aggrieved. But in Murim, if you felt aggrieved, you were supposed to reach a higher realm and become the captain yourself.

One of the youngest hurriedly brought a torch and tossed it inside. A tomb chamber about the length of a mat was revealed. The impatient Yeom Saraedal leaped down at once.

Now all he had to do was find the Boksinjeok and get out—

That was what he had been thinking, but Yeom Saraedal’s expression hardened. In his imagination, there was supposed to be an extraordinary chest in the middle of the chamber, one that would reveal treasures the moment it was opened.

However, in the center of the chamber sat a stone coffin. Which was, of course, perfectly natural for a tomb chamber. Instead, lining the fairly spacious chamber were countless drawers, packed tightly together like the medicine cabinets in an apothecary. As if daring him to try and find what he was looking for.

“Fuuuuck…!”

Yeom Saraedal clutched at his innocent hair and yanked.

Cheong already knew the effect of the Corpse-Blood Poison Person constitution. Poison nullification. A very clean effect. She couldn’t even remember the title anymore—honestly, with zero playtime, it was hard to remember—but in that game, enemies used poison quite aggressively. That was why it was supposed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to make the game comfortable to play.

Only, whether it was a primitive Chinese trip, the game world becoming real, or some mirror dimension shift, it had all materialized into reality. And that was how she realized that the simple effect of “poison nullification” was not so simple in practice.

Just where did “poison” begin and end? Things that were obviously called poison were fine. Then what about mold? Spoiled food? Alcohol? Wasn’t alcohol a first-class carcinogen and the cause of countless alcohol-related diseases, making it a substance that was literally only harmful?

Cheong’s early survival after leaving the mountain had also been a process of figuring that out. Mushrooms? Fruit? Grass? Anything seemed okay. Bugs were fine too. After eating them for a while… well. Aside from the disgusting texture, bitter and fishy taste, and having to stuff herself with a lot just to feel full, it wasn’t bad. It was supposed to be protein-rich future food, after all. Though she did wonder if this was really an acceptable substitute for the future and whether people actually lived in that future world.

Wait, spoiled and rotten food works too? From then on, she no longer needed to fill her stomach in the forest or mountains. She went down to the city and rummaged through trash instead. She didn’t get infected either. Even deep wounds healed cleanly if she just wrapped them tightly, without any need for disinfection no matter how dirty they were. She figured bacteria were probably treated as poison too.

Somehow she managed to gather training points, improved her sword skills a bit, started catching bad guys, emptying their wallets, and occasionally collecting bounties. That was when she began living somewhat like a person. She also realized alcohol wasn’t particularly harmful. It just made her feel a little good. She didn’t get blackout drunk, and there was no hangover or stomach trouble. If it felt good, she drank. If not, she didn’t. No addiction either.

Thanks to that incident, she had gained confidence with drugs too. At this point, her rough guess was that anything that entered her body and produced a harmful effect was treated as poison and nullified. But since there might be exceptions, she couldn’t let her guard down. Just in case.

That was why, when someone shouted “poison,” Cheong had jumped in without hesitation. Unlike other ambiguous things, she was certain poison wouldn’t work on her.

Cheong burst through the smoke screen like she was flying. It was the result of several weightless leaps using the fully mastered Wolnyeo Mountain Walk.

She scanned the Advance Blue Wave Unit members scattering into the mountains like cockroaches and decided the group of three moving together looked promising. One was good, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠two was better, and three was best.

It was only after entering the mountain that the enemies noticed their pursuer. Perhaps because the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one running after them was just a single fluttering girl, they immediately turned to face her.

A hairpin flew and pierced one man’s wrist. Immediately after, a clear ding of a temple bell rang out, and one of them collapsed. The three who had been about to fight one person now found themselves facing her alone, their eyes filled with panic.

Cheong grinned.

“Yeah, I thought something felt empty. My Wolgwang-geom is…!”

She should have been starving for a fight, but the enemy was already right in front of her.

The enemy’s wrist was severed. The returning blade sliced a little more off the wrist, and the following crescent caught it again, slicing off yet another piece. Thinly sliced chunks poured down with a patter. They were cross-sections of the human body, starting thin at the wrist, thickening through the forearm, past the joint, all the way to the biceps.

The man staggered backward, spraying blood. At that moment, the enemy with the hairpin in the back of his hand thrust his blade toward her side. Cheong reached out. Her pale, almost white hand grabbed the blade. She clenched her fist tightly, and the sword shattered with a loud crack.

“Wha—? S-sword breaking hand?”

Dan-geom-su referred to the technique of breaking an opponent’s sword with bare hands. Of course, the proper method involved safely gripping and twisting the blade—there was no such thing as the brute-force version where you just squeezed it in your palm. If Cheong had known that, she would have laughed at how ridiculous it was. The problem was that she herself was equally ridiculous.

“No. It’s Wolgwang Hand.”

The enemy paused for a moment. Wolgwang Hand? Why? Shouldn’t it be Wolgwang Water?

And he paid a harsh price for that moment of carelessness.

Shuk.

Cheong’s hand plunged into the enemy’s chest. Buried up to the wrist, her hand gently grasped his heart. The involuntary cardiac muscle, beating regardless of its owner’s will, thumped against Cheong’s palm. It was a truly sweet pulse of life.

Whoa, this works too!

What should I do? Should I squeeze it once?

“Kuhk, kuhuu…”

The enemy made a choking sound. Agony surged from his crushed heart, his eyes rolled back to show the whites, and foam bubbled from his mouth. The corners of Cheong’s lips rose, and she pulled her hand free. In her clenched fist was a red-and-blue clump of muscle—his heart.

For a moment, her mouth watered. Cheong unconsciously brought the heart toward her lips—then flinched in shock and threw it away.

No, what the hell is wrong with me lately?

Cheong frowned and retrieved the hairpin from the heartless corpse, sticking it back in her hair.

She turned around. The armless guy was still rolling on the ground clutching his severed arm. Cheong walked over and placed her foot on his head. She pressed down gently. The solid resistance of his skull. Oh, it’s holding? She applied more force. It seemed to dent slightly—then crunch, it shattered, leaving only the remains of what had once been a head. A tingling sensation shot straight from the sole of her foot all the way to the top of her skull.

She was savoring that lingering feeling when—

“Y-you witch…!”

Cheong turned her head. The guy who had taken the Yeorae Shinjang wasn’t running away. Instead, he was sitting there spouting nonsense. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠And he even flinched when their eyes met.

“Witch? Want to taste what a witch can do? You like organ shows? Should I pull out your intestines, hang them around your neck, and string you up? Hm?”

Cheong shuddered, then continued.

“Actually, now that I think about it… that sounds pretty good. Yeah. Let’s go with that for you.”

The man’s pants darkened with a wet stain. Cheong’s face crumpled.

“Ugh, disgusting. What the hell? You’re scared of me? Oh dear. You call yourself a man? Even if you die, you should die with honor. Even if you’re hung, you should proudly say ‘I’ll hang myself.’ You should slit your own belly, pull out your own guts, and tie them around your neck by yourself. So why the hell are you pissing yourself just because you’re scared? Ha! Just cut your dick off. Cut it off. If you’re going to sit down to piss anyway, why bother carrying that heavy thing between your legs?”