Shaolin's Filth and Tournament Line Brawl
The old monk's depraved rape went on for quite a while. He had impressive stamina, utterly unworthy of his monkly station. Of course, compared to me, he was like a firefly before the full moon.
Kosa Byok seemed right at home with this sort of thing. He dropped his pants and started jerking off with one hand. Watching him press himself flat against the rock and masturbate so skillfully, I couldn't help but worry about Shaolin's future.
The abbot fucks corpses, catches STDs, and keeps right on banging women. His disciple jerks off while peeping on it all.
'Not that I'm in any position to worry about Shaolin's future.'
Quite the opposite—if Shaolin crumbled, it'd be great for me. They'd only end up opposing me later. Better to nip it in the bud.
I pulled the Surveillance Eye from my inventory and recorded the scene. A genuine horror video, captured live.
Gwanum Daesa finally wore a satisfied grin after pounding the woman for nearly half a shichen. Pus oozed from every inch of his body, the stench of rotting flesh wafting all the way over here. He looked like a yokai that had chewed through ten people.
Red rashes started blooming across the woman's body, the one Gwanum Daesa had just fucked. She'd spent that long screwing a syphilis patient—transmission was inevitable. Ordinary women die within a month of catching live syphilis.
"It itches...! Abbot! My body's burning! Please, save me! I don't want to die!"
"You've offered your pussy to the Buddha, so you'll escape the wheel of reincarnation. Farewell."
Without a hint of hesitation, Gwanum Daesa swung his fist at the woman. With a thunk!, her head burst like a watermelon.
Gwanum Daesa cackled gleefully at the headless corpse. Hard to tell if this was a demonic cult or Shaolin.
Thud. Thud.
Footsteps echoed from the opposite side of the cave. Kosa Byok froze mid-stroke, holding his breath.
I pressed myself tighter against the rock and peeked up to spot the intruder. It was Hansu Daesa, one of the Shaolin elders who'd guided me and Hong Mi earlier.
"Heh heh. You've come, Hansu?"
"......Abbot. Have you taken a life again? Your karma grows heavier by the day. I have no idea what to do anymore."
"Haha. I merely offered my life to the Buddha."
"The Buddha is no demon of heresy. He doesn't desire offerings of human lives."
"Then what would you have me do? Poor women like this have no rice to spare for alms—they must offer their lives instead, no?"
Hansu Daesa let out a small sigh at Gwanum Daesa's giggling nonsense. No point reasoning with that guy.
"The Murim Alliance has requested that you deliver the opening speech at the Dragon-Tiger Supremacy Tournament."
Hansu Daesa had come seeking the abbot's response to the request I'd passed along with Hong Mi earlier.
Gwanum Daesa didn't think twice. He wiped the pus from his body with his hand and replied.
"My nose is full of stone—how could I bother with such things? Make up some excuse."
"But it's been three years of seclusion already. If you don't show your face at assemblies soon, others will grow suspicious. Rumors are already circulating that you've passed away."
"Ugh~! What a hassle. But with my body like this, wouldn't appearing in public be risky?"
"The Great Reversion Pill can delay the symptoms. Full cure is impossible, but take one and apply makeup—you could fool people for a day or two. Show yourself then, quash the rumors, and buy a few more years of seclusion without suspicion."
"Fine, then. No helping it. Prepare accordingly."
"Understood."
Hansu Daesa bowed and trudged toward the entrance.
A complex mix of emotions played across his face as he exited the meditation cave. For him, this was its own trial.
'Gwanum Daesa at the Dragon-Tiger Supremacy Tournament? Hmm. Might accelerate Shaolin's downfall even faster.'
I slipped out of the meditation cave through the secret passage with Kosa Byok. Hong Mi waited outside.
"Now get lost."
"Got it! I'll put this erotic book to good use!"
Kosa Byok bolted back to his quarters like the wind. Good thing the guy's simple-minded.
Hong Mi and I left Shaolin together. We headed to the inn where Danyuha and Jin Samwol had secured rooms.
The Dragon-Tiger Supremacy Tournament—murim's grandest righteous faction festival—had drawn uncountable martial artists to Henan.
Arriving early was a stroke of genius. Otherwise, we'd have been shit out of luck for lodging.
We'd rented an entire floor at the Yeongwol Inn. No point risking beef with other martial artists—better to cut off trouble at the root.
The Yeongwol Inn's facilities were decent. I passed the time railing Jin Samwol, Danyuha, Cheonhwa, and Hong Mi.
"Today's the first day of Dragon-Tiger Supremacy registrations. I'll go sign us up."
I buttoned up after a sloppy fuck session with Danyuha. Player registrations kicked off today. With all Zhongyuan's top young talents gathered, it was war even at signup.
Youths from across the land, hungry to raise their clans' or sects' honor, waged psychological battles right from the registration line.
"Go carefully."
I stepped out of the Yeongwol Inn alone. Registrations were at the Murim Alliance's Henan branch, not far off.
'The line's already insane.'
The queue for player registration stretched forever. Plenty had camped out since dawn. I ended up at the tail end, where the line vanished into the horizon. Five hours minimum to move.
'Wait five hours? No way.'
The urge to cut in surged. But stirring shit with other martial artists here would backfire big time later.
Not that a scuffle scared me, but causing a scene amid this crowd? Recipe for headaches.
'Any tricks up my sleeve?'
As I racked my brain for a workaround, a group sauntered past the line straight through the branch doors. No alliance staff vibes—they looked like registrants like us.
'Plum blossom embroidery on their uniforms... Huashan Sect. And those are Wudang?'
The handsome group laughed and joked as they crossed the threshold. One warrior in line exploded.
"What the hell!? We've been queued since dawn yesterday—why do they just waltz in!?"
He spoke for every soul in line. A Huashan disciple, mid-stride, snorted.
"Hmph. Noisy trash who'll flop in prelims anyway. The Dragon-Tiger Supremacy Tournament is the Murim Alliance's grand event for orthodox murim! We're from the Nine Great Sects, pillars of the Alliance—why share a path with you nobodies?"
"Wh-what!? You done talking shit!? I'm Yi Akbiryong, direct disciple of the Twin Sword Sect—you call me trash!? A nobody!? Fine! You picked the wrong mark today! Let's see how sharp that fancy Huashan sword really is!"
"Twin Sword Sect? Yi Akbiryong? Never heard of your no-name sect or your no-name hack. Call a nobody a nobody? There's reason behind it."
True to the Huashan punk's words, Twin Sword Sect never appeared in the original story. Neither did this Yi Akbiryong clown.
"Draw swords!"
True to his hot-blooded nature, Yi Akbiryong yanked his twin blades from his waist. The Huashan guy smirked.
"No need for me. Little sis—handle it."
"Do I really have to draw my blade?"
"Don't you hate illiterate barbarians like that? If so, clean up yourself."
"No choice, then."
Yi Akbiryong ground his teeth at the humiliation right in his face.
I clocked the Huashan duo's identities.
'Good enough for the Dragon-Tiger Supremacy? Prime Huashan talents, then... Guy's Song Wu-gang, girl's Yeon Muk?'
Probably spot on. Song Wu-gang was a genius who'd mastered Huashan's signature Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword to the 6th star. Super first-rate level. That's where he was around meeting Gong Wuseon—hard to say now.
His junior sis Yeon Muk was another Huashan prodigy, 6th star in Purple霞 Divine Art. This Yi Akbiryong trash wouldn't last five exchanges against her blade.
"A damn woman should be washing laundry at home—how dare you strut into the Dragon-Tiger Supremacy Tournament!?"
"Typical illiterate. Can you even write your own name?"
"Heroes don't waste time studying!"
Yi Akbiryong charged Yeon Muk, twin swords drawn—like a feral beast eyeing a frail rabbit. But Yeon Muk was no delicate bunny, looks notwithstanding.
"Crude, ignorant, no manners."
She deflected his assault with light steps.
A smug smile played on her face. Pretty tasty face, too. Perfect junk food fuck.
"You bitch!"
Yi Akbiryong flailed wildly, but his strikes—swings like he was chopping wood—never grazed her.
His attacks packed power but zero finesse. At that skill level, he'd wash out in prelims, just like Song Wu-gang said.
"Annoying. Get lost."
Shing!
Yeon Muk drew. A fluid iai strike flowing into offense. A clean line slashed across Yi Akbiryong's burly chest.
"Kuh!"
Pain made him drop one sword. He had the other, but Yeon Muk's blade was already at his throat. She grinned wickedly.
"More?"
"Grr...! I yield!"
"You'll pay for mocking me, direct disciple of mighty Huashan, with that filthy mouth. Admit defeat? Then kneel here and beg forgiveness for your folly."
The crowd murmured at Yeon Muk's demand.
"Huashan prodigy through and through. Leagues above us."
"See that draw? Missed it myself."
"Makes him admit defeat, then kneel and apologize. Scary girl."
"She's stomping his head flat. No crawling back."
Yi Akbiryong bit his lip in fury. Yeon Muk kept smiling, pressing her sword to his neck.
"Or atone with your life."
"I-I'll apologize!"
Nothing topped survival. Yi Akbiryong knelt before the much shorter woman, begging forgiveness amid the crowd of warriors.
Bored of his pathetic display, Yeon Muk turned away. She rejoined her group and entered the Murim Alliance branch.