A Disciple, If Only for Tonight
"I see now. You lot aren't even qualified to choose a sword, are you? You're just here to ride on someone else's coattails for free food and wine, yet you had the gall to provoke me?"
Bukjin sneered, seizing the opportunity to twist the knife. The faces of Xiahou Chong and his cronies darkened instantly. They had no retort; it was true that they were only present at the banquet because Dongfang Zhan had brought them along.
"Haha! Seeing you all seething with rage while being unable to do a damn thing about it... that’s the highlight of my night," Bukjin mocked, his words sharp as a blade.
Xiahou Chong and the others looked ready to cough up blood from sheer fury. 'Im Bukjin, that insufferably vulgar bastard...!' they cursed inwardly, their eyes burning with silent resentment.
"Stop wasting your energy on them and pick a sword already," a voice interrupted. Baek Geum-un appeared out of nowhere and tugged at Bukjin’s sleeve. Around them, the young swordsmen were huddled around various tables, their eyes wide as they scrutinized the blades with intense focus.
Bukjin could clearly sense the ripples of mental energy emanating from the dozens of swords. Though these fluctuations were silent and invisible, they saturated the air around the tables. It seemed that the geniuses currently selecting their weapons were all practitioners who had trained their mental power.
Bukjin glanced at Baek Geum-un. She had only recently entered the 3rd Academy and hadn't even begun mental power cultivation. She was staring at the swords with her large, round eyes, looking utterly out of her element.
'Is this part of the trial meant to test mental strength?' Bukjin wondered.
He focused his own mental energy on two swords resting on the table before him. Immediately, two distinct auras brushed against his consciousness. One was as scorching as a roaring flame, while the other felt gentle and refined, like polished jade. However, neither sensation particularly appealed to him.
'So, the goal is to observe the sword's aura with mental power and choose the one that feels most compatible? If that's the case...'
As Bukjin deliberated, Baek Geum-un tugged on his hem again. Being smaller in stature, she had to stand on her tiptoes to pull him closer, whispering in a low voice.
"Um... Senior? Have you... have you picked one yet? To me, they all look the same except for the shape. This one looks okay, but then that one looks okay too... How am I supposed to choose?"
Bukjin looked down at her with a faint smirk. Taking his silence as an invitation to continue, she rambled on.
"D-don't misunderstand! I'm not asking you to pick one for me. I just wanted to hear your opinion as a reference. I've actually already made my choice. That one over there..." She pointed toward a rapier with a scabbard adorned in beautiful gold and silver thread patterns. "That sword gives me a really good feeling."
Bukjin gave the rapier a cursory glance before shaking his head.
"You couldn't be more wrong. You've picked the sword that suits you the least." He pointed toward a different table on the left, where a pale blue Heavy Sword rested. It was about five spans wide and half a jang long.
"You're not trying to trick me, are you?" Baek Geum-un asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "That blade is wider than my face! It's almost as tall as I am! How could a slab of metal the size of a door suit a delicate girl like me?"
"Hmph. Don't believe me if you don't want to." Bukjin turned away, done with the conversation. The more he learned about Baek Geum-un, the more eccentric she seemed. At first, she had acted like a haughty, ice-cold princess, but now she seemed like a completely different person.
Perhaps because of Bukjin's dismissive attitude, Baek Geum-un clasped her hands together, falling into an even deeper state of conflict. 'Can I really trust what he says?'
Bukjin ignored her. In fact, he found the idea of using mental power to search for a "soulmate" blade to be a chore. Letting his gaze wander aimlessly, his eyes landed on a sword at the first table in the left row. Without a second thought, he reached out and grabbed it.
The weapon Bukjin chose was a massive silver Greatsword. The blade was nearly half a cheok wide and half a jang long. He hadn't felt any special connection or repulsion from it; he simply liked the weight and the size. Moreover, its solid silver appearance made it look incredibly expensive. He figured that once the Sword Selection Banquet was over, he could probably fetch a handsome price for it.
Bukjin was the first person in the hall to make a selection. Naturally, this drew everyone's attention. The elder swordsmen watching from the sidelines wore a variety of expressions. Cho Heun, in particular, looked bewildered. Bukjin had always used a standard longsword—a very basic, military-issue blade. He had never once trained with a heavy, two-handed greatsword.
'Did that brat just pick one at random? Or does he have some sort of scheme?'
Bukjin gave the silver greatsword a few experimental swings. The weight was solid, and the grip felt right. He flicked the flat of the blade with his finger. It was definitely high-quality silver. 'This is going to be worth a fortune,' he thought, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.
He began to walk, dragging the massive blade behind him. Sparks danced as the edge scraped against the stone floor. Ignoring the countless stares following his every move, Bukjin walked straight toward Jeong Sam-seok with a sly smile.
"Master. I heard Baek Hae-geum call you 'Senior Brother' earlier. Are you really from White Cloud City?"
Jeong Sam-seok looked at Bukjin, his voice cold and detached. "Who are you? Do I know you?"
Bukjin didn't miss a beat, letting out a cheeky chuckle. "Oh, stop it. That awkward expression is a sight to behold. What's the point of pretending you don't know me now? You lent me the Sword of Virtue and even taught me the secret of the Close-body Triple Link. Everyone at the academy knows. Are you trying to keep me out of this mess? I'm afraid it's a bit too late for that."
Jeong Sam-seok’s icy facade crumbled under Bukjin’s shamelessness. He sighed, looking genuinely annoyed. "If you're so damn smart, why are you here? Do you even know what that invitation represents? You've walked straight into your own grave!"
"As you know, Master, I'm a man who detests bothersome things. If I could, I would have stayed tucked away in the academy, playing dead. But even though I'm known as Unmong City's greatest scoundrel, I still know what it means to owe a debt of gratitude."
Bukjin’s eyes grew serious. He truly did want to avoid trouble. His goal was to quietly build his strength and find a way back to Earth. But he couldn't ignore a debt. Turning a blind eye simply wasn't in his nature. Perhaps it was a habit from his past life—the gamer who couldn't stand seeing people being treated unfairly. He was the type of person who had to interfere when things felt wrong. That same personality had led him to save a 'Grim Reaper' from a truck accident back on Earth.
Originally, Bukjin had planned to attend the banquet and just observe. If Jeong Sam-seok could handle things on his own, Bukjin would have sat quietly and left without a word. But seeing the banquet tonight changed things. Behind Baek Hae-geum stood Jo Pacheon, and behind every other elder swordsman stood a proud, spirited young genius. Only Jeong Sam-seok sat alone at the head table, solitary and isolated.
Seeing that sight stirred something in Bukjin. That was why he had stepped forward, inviting the gaze of every person in the room. Even if Baek Hae-geum, Jo Pacheon, and this entire banquet were a trap for Jeong Sam-seok—and even if acknowledging him meant falling into that trap himself—it didn't matter. Even if it wasn't the 'wise' choice, Bukjin chose to stand by him.
A mischievous, almost irritating smile returned to the face of Unmong City's notorious rascal.
"At the very least, for tonight, I am your disciple."
Jeong Sam-seok stared at Bukjin for a long time. "I used to trust people easily," he said quietly, his gaze drifting toward the other teenagers still browsing the tables. "And I was betrayed more times than I can count."
He looked back at Bukjin. "You asked if I was from White Cloud City?"
Bukjin nodded. "Tell me the story."
Jeong Sam-seok let out a long breath and gave Bukjin a sharp rap on the head. "You idiot. You don't have a serious bone in your body. I was trying to set a somber mood, and you've gone and ruined it."
Bukjin grinned slyly. "The past is just the past. There's no need to drown in it; just tell the story. A great swordsman once said that a true hero is one who can speak calmly of his life and never looks away from the blood he has shed."
Jeong Sam-seok looked skeptical. "Huh? I've never heard that quote before. But if such a person truly exists, they would indeed be a Great Master."
Bukjin pressed on. "So, let's hear it. Are you really from White Cloud City?"
Jeong Sam-seok stood up. "Follow me."
He began walking toward a small pond nestled within the garden. Bukjin followed, the massive silver greatsword still dragging noisily against the ground behind him. Jeong Sam-seok glanced back at the dragging blade, looking utterly speechless, but Bukjin only offered him a bright, shameless smile.