The Weight of Malice
"You...!"
Jo Pacheon was inwardly reeling with shock. Unable to hide his stunned expression, he glared at Bukjin with murderous intent. The technique he had just unleashed—transforming palm pressure into sword qi—was a move from White Cloud City’s Cloud-Piercing Water-Light Sword style. He had poured seventy percent of his Mystic Energy into that strike, fully expecting it to leave Bukjin half-dead.
But the reality was far different. Bukjin had not only blocked the strike with a strange, shimmering blue palm technique, but he had only been forced back a mere three steps.
'How did this mongrel get so strong so quickly?' Jo Pacheon’s shock was rapidly being overtaken by a searing rage.
Meanwhile, Bukjin was secretly rejoicing. He had stepped forward specifically to test the current gap between himself and Jo Pacheon, and the results were more than satisfactory. The power of a 3-star martial art was truly formidable. Even Cho Heun and Ban Oe-min, who knew all too well how dangerous Jo Pacheon was, looked on in disbelief.
'The speed of Bukjin’s growth is nothing short of a miracle!'
'He’s on a completely different level than when we were at Bukhwang Mountain! Is this the caliber of talent the White Cloud Sword Immortal, Jeong Sam-seok, saw in him?'
Indeed, Bukjin was proving himself worthy of being the disciple of the man who once held the second seat among the Five Great Swordsmen of White Cloud City. No one else could have achieved such a massive leap in strength in such a short window of time.
Jo Pacheon, humiliated by his failure to suppress Bukjin in a single move, prepared to strike again. But just as he gathered his energy—
"What arrogant fool dares to cause a ruckus in Manseung-ru!"
A heavy, dignified voice filled with undeniable authority thundered through the air. The clash between Bukjin and Jo Pacheon had been loud enough to alert everyone in the restaurant. Every head in the room turned toward the third-floor corridor.
Six middle-aged men emerged from the most luxurious private room on the floor, the one marked with the character for 'Heaven' above the door. They were all dressed in opulent robes, their faces clouded with irritation.
Among them was Lee Ung-bu, the Chief of the Unmong City Education Bureau, the man who had presided over the opening ceremony of the Academic & Martial Arts Competition earlier that day! A true heavyweight had appeared. However, Lee Ung-bu wasn't even the highest-ranking person in the group.
Standing at the center was an elderly man who appeared to be in his fifties. He had thinning white hair and a prominent black mole on his left cheek, but he carried himself with an unmistakable aristocratic air. The sheer weight of his presence overwhelmed everyone in the vicinity. Even Chief Lee Ung-bu stood beside him with a humble, respectful posture, his face a mask of deference.
There was another familiar face among the group: Lee Cheong-hyeon, the official known as 'Iron-Faced Poison Tongue,' who had served as an inspector during the Academy’s internal competition and presided over the second-year preliminaries.
"Dean Cho? Dean Gu? What is the meaning of this?" Lee Cheong-hyeon asked, his eyes scanning the room as he identified the participants. Gu Cheon’s right hand was a mangled mess; he was drenched in cold sweat, his face contorted in agony. Seeing the high-ranking officials from the Education Bureau, Gu Cheon felt a chill run down his spine. He knew this was bad.
The fight had started because of his comments. If the officials decided to investigate the cause of the dispute, Gu Cheon would be the one in the hot seat. He tried to think of a way to excuse himself and retreat, but Jo Pacheon beat him to the punch.
Jo Pacheon stepped forward, grabbing Gu Cheon’s mangled arm and lifting it for everyone to see. He spoke in a loud, clear voice.
"Under this bright and righteous sky, someone has used a wicked technique to ambush a teacher of the Empire! This arm is the proof! Chief Lee, I implore you to rectify this injustice and uphold the discipline of our institutions!"
It was a classic case of the culprit playing the victim. Gu Cheon had been the one to strike first. He tried to pull his arm away from Jo Pacheon’s grip, but the younger man held firm. Gu Cheon cursed him inwardly. 'This lunatic! Does he think he can do whatever he wants just because he’s a disciple of White Cloud City? He’s blowing this up on purpose without a single thought for anyone else's safety!'
Lee Cheong-hyeon’s brow furrowed at Jo Pacheon’s words. Lee Ung-bu and the others turned their gaze toward Gu Cheon’s hand. Their expressions shifted when they saw the twisted joints and shattered bones, looking like a piece of gnarled wood.
Suddenly, a sharp "Pfft!" echoed through the tense silence.
Someone had actually burst out laughing in the middle of this grave situation. Lee Cheong-hyeon’s eyes turned cold as he glared toward the source of the sound.
"Im Bukjin. What do you find so amusing?"
The one who had laughed was indeed Bukjin. In an instant, the attention of every heavyweight in the room shifted from Gu Cheon’s hand to the boy. Despite the circumstances, the officials couldn't help but notice that he was an exceptionally handsome youth. Bukjin rubbed the bridge of his nose and stepped forward slowly. He spared a brief, dismissive glance at Jo Pacheon before speaking in a measured tone.
"I simply couldn't help myself. I can overlook the fact that you're twisting the truth to frame us, but hearing you use such flowery language that doesn't fit the situation at all... it was just too much."
Jo Pacheon sneered. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"It’s quite simple. It is currently night. The lamps are lit, and the sun set a long time ago. And yet, you talk about a 'bright sky'? Jo Pacheon, before you try to pin a crime on someone else, perhaps you should learn basic vocabulary and grammar. Otherwise, you’re just making a fool of yourself."
"You...!" Jo Pacheon’s face flushed with fury.
At that moment, the white-haired elder spoke up in a calm, steady voice. "Is that boy the legitimate son of the former War God, Im Bukjin?"
Chief Lee Ung-bu quickly bowed. "To answer your question, Elder Bang, yes, that is the son of the former War God. I didn't realize his name had reached your ears. However, he is no longer the boy he once was. It seems he has had a change of heart; he showed remarkable results in the Academy’s internal competition and the preliminaries. Furthermore, in the written exams held today, he achieved a perfect score in three subjects, breaking all previous records. He is a boy of immense talent, though he is naturally a bit... impulsive and suffers from a slight mental affliction."
Lee Ung-bu was clearly trying to shield Bukjin. The white-haired elder was none other than Bang Jin-yu, the Chief of the Pungeo Province Education Bureau.
The North Sea Empire placed a massive emphasis on education. Consequently, a hierarchy of educational departments existed from the central government down to the local level. Small districts had Education Offices, cities had Education Bureaus, and entire provinces were overseen by Provincial Education Bureaus. Above them all was the General Education Ministry. As a Provincial Chief, Bang Jin-yu was a high-ranking official of the Empire. He had led the Pungeo Province Bureau for a long time, boasting countless students under his wing and commanding immense influence through the Bang Clan.
"Ho ho, he is young, is he not? A bit of impulsiveness is nothing to worry about," Bang Jin-yu said with a faint smile. "However... it seems he needs to be more careful with his words. Our Empire is currently flourishing under the Imperial family; our laws are firm, and we march forward under the light of righteousness. How, then, can he claim that the 'night is deep'?"
The color drained from the faces of Lee Ung-bu and Lee Cheong-hyeon. Even Cho Heun, Ryu Gye-hae, and Ban Oe-min looked stricken. For those words to come from the mouth of a Provincial Chief meant he had taken offense at Bukjin’s remark and was framing it as a political slight. Moreover, Bukjin was the son of a disgraced official. If such a statement were reported to the capital and twisted by someone with ill intent, it could trigger a catastrophic wave of persecution.
The Emperor had only spared Bukjin’s life because he was believed to be an illiterate, mentally ill wastrel who posed no threat. If news reached the throne that Bukjin had regained his senses and was a genius, there was no telling what the Emperor might do.
Bang Jin-yu was known by the epithet 'Iron-Faced and Impartial,' a man who had survived the treacherous storms of politics for decades. He knew exactly how much weight a single careless phrase could carry. He had set this trap intentionally.
Why would a man of his stature harbor such malice toward a mere boy like Bukjin? Cho Heun felt a cold dread pooling in his stomach. He was already regretting his impulsive decision to strike Gu Cheon.
Bang Jin-yu spoke again, his tone still deceptively mild. "Ho ho, Jin-nam. Since we are on the subject, aren't you the current head of the Im family? Congratulations. It seems a brilliant genius has been born into your house once again. Based on what the Unmong Chief says, this boy, Im Bukjin, might just become the second 'War God' to shake the foundations of our Empire."
Standing beside Bang Jin-yu was a pale, middle-aged man. Upon hearing the Elder's words, the man clasped his hands and spoke with exaggerated humility.
"The title of 'War God' is already a disgrace to our Empire. We cannot allow such a figure to exist twice. You flatter him far too much, Chief."
The man then turned his head, glaring at Bukjin with eyes full of contempt.
"You worthless brat! What are you standing there for? Come here this instant and apologize to the Chief and the other dignitaries!"
"?"
Bukjin was genuinely confused. 'Who the hell is this guy, and why is he barking orders at me?'
It was then that Bukjin spotted Im Yeok, standing silently and inconspicuously behind the group of heavyweights.