Rehabilitation Training
"Huuuuh... tch."
Namgoong Juhee stretched her arms out wide.
The wounds from her fight with Gangmusa had mostly healed by now.
She'd also slept like a rock yesterday thanks to the qi-scattering poison.
Her body was in peak condition—better than ever.
The perfect time to start rehab training.
"Hayeon, deal with those guys."
"Should I leave Bokun alive?"
"Ah, the Sin-yang Munju? Yeah, yeah. He's mine."
"Pardon? Heeya, what are you talking about? Didn't you say you like girls?"
"...What the hell? I said I'm gonna kill him. Time for some rehab."
"Ah... right? It was a joke. Just joking."
The two of them chatted leisurely even as the first-rate experts charged at them.
Bokun could hardly believe his eyes.
Right in front of him were just two women.
Sin-yang Mun, on the other hand, had four first-rates and himself, a Peak realm master.
They'd lost their minds. Still, there was something feisty about them—would make breaking them all the sweeter.
That hopeful thought went flying with one swing from Hayeon.
Slash.
Hayeon's sword traced a light, graceful straight line.
Like she was holding a brush, not a blade.
The elegant arc unique to her Iron Rule Sword style.
"Guhk?"
But that didn't mean it lacked power.
The four first-rates who lunged at Hayeon crumpled to the ground in an instant.
And then thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk.
Four heads followed, dropping one after another.
Hayeon smiled lightly, as if wrapping up a chore.
"How was that, Heeya? Helpful enough?"
"Nice. Super convenient, yeah."
"Heehee, 'convenient'? You're the only one who'd say that to my face."
And just like that, another casual chat with zero sense of urgency.
Only then did the Sin-yang Munju realize.
The two lunatics before him were Peak realm masters.
"Huh? Why's that traitor just standing there? Didn't we make him kneel earlier?"
"Right, I remember. Hey, Bok the hero? What's with the loitering?"
Bokun lowered his gaze and slowly dropped to his knees.
This was the subtle art of the weak submitting to the strong—the secret behind turning Sin-yang Bang into a representative sect of Sin-yang.
Of course, such a skill wasn't child's play.
"This Bok dares not recognize true heroines and has committed a grave offense!"
Bam!
Bokun slammed his head into the ground without a second thought.
A forehead salute brimming with resolve to smash his own skull.
A technique that wouldn't catch on until the Qing Dynasty—and here it was, unfolding from Bokun's body.
"Ooh."
Hayeon and Namgoong Juhee couldn't help but admire the display.
Clearly, no one pulled sect leader positions out of a hat.
Not that they planned to let him live, of course.
"Come on, no need for that. Get up first?"
"Does that mean you'll forgive me?"
"No, no, not that, but..."
"Then I'll stay knelt until you do!"
"Ah, this is tricky."
Namgoong Juhee muttered.
Honestly, with him so broken-spirited, forget rehab—even warm-ups were off the table.
He was groveling on his knees, making her feel like the bad guy for no reason.
He needs to come at me with killing intent if this is gonna be any fun.
"Sin-yang Munju, raise your head."
Namgoong Juhee murmured in a deliberately calm tone.
Hayeon was the most shocked.
Wait, Heeya, since when could you talk like that? Then what's with your usual wild mouth?
It was the kind of tone that begged such questions.
Bokun, meanwhile, felt secretly relieved.
Her voice and the vibe—she wasn't drawing her sword to behead him on the spot.
This meant he might scrape by with his life after all.
Bokun sent his thanks in a servile whine.
"Thank you, great hero! Sin-yang Mun will repay this grace for generations!"
"Hmm... generations, huh? That might be tough."
"I beheaded your son and left his head in the market square. Stuck a note next to it: 'I like screwing corpses, so I'm becoming one myself.'"
"What the...?"
As Bokun peeked up, a sinister glint flashed in Namgoong Juhee's eyes.
If Whirlwind Ghost, Hyuk, Du, or Gangmusa saw it, they'd scream at him to run.
"Pl-please, that's too much of a joke, great hero."
"Joke? You brain-dead? Why do you think I'm here? I wrecked your son and wasn't satisfied, so I tracked you down. That not clicking?"
"Then..."
"But it's hilarious. Kneeling to your son's killer and babbling about generations? Pfft. What do you think, Hayeon?"
"I'd bite my tongue and die."
"Right? Hear that? Still not getting it?"
They say losing a child is like having your intestines cut—a pain anyone who's suffered enteritis can imagine.
"Grrrrr..."
Bokun felt his guts twisting inside out.
The moment his kid first called him "Daddy" as a boy.
The first time he picked up a sword and grinned innocently.
The day he grew up and started bringing girls home.
Those memories flashed through Bokun's mind.
"You... fucking bitches!"
Juhee snickered involuntarily at his shout.
All those women Bok Dong-su had killed weren't someone else's kids?
Had anyone inflicted "intestine-cutting" pain on as many parents as him?
Sure, in this barbaric, primitive Central Plains, probably at least a thousand.
Maybe not in Sin-yang, though.
Anyway, when a bastard like that croaks, normal folks just think good riddance and move on.
Seeing him play the heartbroken dad was pretty funny.
Of course, this was a game, and Bokun was just data chunks.
Namgoong Juhee tacked on that last thought with effort.
To others, she probably looked just as ridiculous—but people never notice their own clowning.
"I'll kill you... kill you all!"
"There we go—that's more like it. Won't bring your dead son back, though."
"You bitch!"
Bokun gripped his sword and rose.
Tears streaming as he sought vengeance for his child; Namgoong Juhee egging him on with sly scratches.
Any outsider would peg her as the world's worst scum.
"I'll kill you! I'll stick your head next to Dong-su's to comfort his soul!"
"Typical corpse-fucker. Even finding a playmate for your dead son. If you'd put that effort into parenting, this wouldn't have happened. Right?"
"You... you mad bitch!"
"Mad bitch? Yeah, that's me. Wanna test getting hit by one?"
"Hup!"
Bokun paid for hearing the truth by losing a few strands of hair.
"Oho. Dodged that? Peak realm even when rotten, huh."
"Guh..."
A sheer-cliff downward slash.
So fast and fierce that any hesitation would've split Bokun into Bok and Un.
Namgoong Juhee was quietly satisfied.
The spirit pills from Eonha Merchant Group had clearly worked.
Her sword's power and her body's speed were on a whole new level.
She could take on two Gangmusas now.
Bokun, who couldn't even touch Gangmusa's toes, was a given.
"Hope you don't forget that rage. Oh, should I chant 'Bok Dong-su, Bok Dong-su' every time you swing? Might make it more fun!"
"You... underworld bitch! My turn now!"
"Ooh, can't wait! Bok Dong-su!"
Time to test dodging too?
Namgoong Juhee's muscles and body twisted wildly.
Sometimes glancing left while twisting right, twitching her right arm to redirect with her left.
A technique no one else in the world could mimic.
Sin-yang Swordsmanship, something even Peaks could ape, couldn't hope to catch up.
Swish, swish, whoosh, oof close one, whee!
Sin-yang Munju swung endlessly, but Namgoong Juhee dodged every one in place.
She grinned in satisfaction again.
Her whole-body senses had sharpened even more since fighting Gangmusa.
Body better, senses sharper—nothing left to want.
No hesitation about storming Wudang now.
"Hah... hah..."
"What? Already done? How'd you even reach Peak with that stamina?"
"You... you...!"
"Not you bitch, mad bitch, underworld bitch again! That's an IQ issue. Try some new material. Hmm... how about 'Bok Dong-su wannabe bitch'? Means 'pathetic trash corpse-loving retard.' I'd be raging sleepless if I heard that. Say it: Bok Dong-su wannabe bitch."
"You...! You...! You...!"
"Come on, say it. Bok Dong-su wannabe bitch. That hard?"
Bokun's face twisted in fury.
Not only was his son's killer right there, but she was insulting the boy thoroughly.
And he could do jack about it.
The Heart Yang Swordsmanship he'd just unleashed was funeral-worthy in its perfection.
Fast, variable, with solid feints mixed in.
His thirst for revenge had pushed him beyond his limits.
"Huh? Cat got your tongue? Go mute all of a sudden?"
Yet not a single strike had grazed her.
He kept slashing empty air, half-convinced she was a ghost.
"You...! Fucking bitch! Idiot! Stupid bitch...!"
And so Bokun's vocabulary regressed.
Grief over his lost son.
Helplessness at facing the killer and doing nothing.
Emptiness that all his martial arts were worthless.
It all mixed into basic curses only.
Thinking of his usual eloquent tongue-lashings at servants, it was comical.
"Pfft... Hey, Hayeon. Hear that? Called me an idiot."
"Pathetic. Hard to believe he's Peak."
"Right?"
"Grrrr..."
Namgoong Juhee raised her sword.
Rehab training complete.
Time to head straight to Wudang.
One last chore: dispose of the scarecrow.
With a mind of its own, leaving it would mean endless hassle.
Hard-earned game knowledge.
"Bye now. Teach your kids better next life."
"Mad bi—!"
Slash.
Bokun's head dropped without a final word.
Too generous for a scarecrow.
Mm, yep.