The Visitor from the Island - 2: Not All Super Peaks Are Created Equal
Not all Super Peaks are the same. Most of them crumple on the spot when they hit the towering wall of Hwa-gyeong, but some spend decades pounding away at it, honing themselves into mad old monsters through relentless refinement. In those cases, they unleash such overwhelming power that you wonder if they're really the same realm at all. The dukes of each Inspectorate are prime examples. That's why, even within the same realm, the gap between them is never small. Treating a Super Peak on the verge of breaking through to Hwa-gyeong tomorrow like some average one would be unfair to both sides.
But this is just talk among fellow Super Peak masters. To anyone below that level, a seasoned Super Peak and some fresh newbie look like monsters either way. "A rampaging Super Peak can flip an entire region upside down." Sure, if the court launches a massive military op, Super Peaks come pouring out—but that's only possible because it's the central authority controlling the whole Central Plains. A true Super Peak master basically represents their region. Even in today's murim, aside from the Shaolin Abbot and Wudang Sect Leader, Super Peak is the ceiling for everyone else. That's the reality: the heads of so-called prestigious clans and sects top out at Super Peak.
In other words, an unidentified Super Peak showing up at Tianzhou's docks was like a ticking time bomb dropping in. If that bastard went berserk and started dancing with his sword, it'd be no different from the Huashan Sect Leader or Namgung Clan Head launching a terrorist attack.
Please be sane. I prayed fervently as I approached the docks, but honestly, the odds were low. A lone wanderer who'd reached such an exalted realm without serving the court or joining a founding merit sect? No way he was normal. Any sane person couldn't pull that off. Even giving him the benefit of the doubt, he'd be on par with that poison duo that popped up in Sichuan. So I walked ready to unleash Silence Hell if things went south.
"Um? What business do you have with me?"
What the—? I ran into the unexpected. He was a sturdy adult with a serious gaze, but his speech was oddly slurred. Like watching a foreigner speak Central Plains tongue. What was this? Southeast Asia? Middle East? Nah, his looks were closer to local than that.
"Sorry. I'm not quite proficient in Central Plains speech yet."
As the guy who'd approached first stood there speechless, the presumed Super Peak scratched his head sheepishly, like this happened all the time.
"This lowly one's name is Jang Gang. Not from the Central Plains—came from across the sea, from Taiwan."
"Ah."
That explained the bizarre situation. Not a native Central Plains man, but from Taiwan. Makes sense.
Taiwan only started falling under Central Plains influence during the Qing era. Daesong hadn't conquered it yet, so a Taiwanese being rusty in the language—and off the court's radar—was par for the course.
Thank goodness. I let out a genuine sigh of relief. Not some psycho wanderer, just a foreigner from across the sea. Well, technically an outsider, since Taiwan had no nation this era. Whatever.
With his nationality cleared up as tourist rather than time bomb, his passport didn't matter. Jang Gang, the Taiwanese who'd outed himself, had landed in Tianzhou just days ago with ten compatriots. He'd come to the docks today for some fishing, only to get spotted by Jo Wi-cheo.
His ten companions were all hovering at the cusp of Peak from first-rate, but only Jang Gang had hit Super Peak. He was the one to watch.
"Taiwanese rarely visit the Central Plains. What's the purpose?"
We moved to an inn with the Taiwanese crew, ordered food and drinks to loosen things up. Best to treat a masterless Super Peak cordially. If luck held, I could recruit him; worst case, we'd part on good terms.
"My father was Central Plains folk. Lived long on mother's land, but now I'm living on father's land."
"I see."
I nodded without thinking. No wonder he looked more Central Plains than your average Taiwanese native—half his blood was ours.
"The others too?"
"Yes. All friends like me, with Central Plains blood."
"Crossing the sea isn't easy. Yet you couldn't forget your parents' heritage and made the bold choice."
I poured drinks for Jang Gang and the mixed-bloods with a faint smile. In this era, folks lived and died in one spot. For Taiwanese natives, that meant Taiwan—their hometown only. But these guys had left home and braved the ocean. Impossible without fondness and yearning for the Central Plains. A court official's warmth would only deepen that.
"You're too kind, my lord!"
Jang Gang and the mixed-bloods bowed like it was the highest honor. Perfect. First impressions planted with a masterless Super Peak.
- Kki-iing.
- Kki-ong.
As I raised my cup with those thoughts, Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i outside the inn stared right at us.
"Such wondrous beasts. White ones are spirit beasts, they say. Never dreamed I'd see two Baeknok."
Jang Gang laughed at their attention, saying it felt like a welcome for crossing from Taiwan to the Central Plains. Thrilled that spirit beasts greeted their journey.
"They are spirit beasts."
"These guys?"
"Not just white—they carry pure energy. Seems they're welcoming guests into father's embrace."
Jang Gang's eyes went wide as he looked again. Truth was, those two had stared at foreigners in Hangzhou too. Born and bred in the Central Plains, they found outsiders fascinating. So their interest in half-Taiwanese Jang Gang and crew was natural.
"Real spirit beasts..."
But only I, Ak I-yeon, and Jo Wi-cheo knew they gawked at foreigners. No one would call BS on "Central Plains spirit beasts welcoming half-Central Plains folk."
"Then... to the spirit beasts, we're Central Plains folk too..."
Muttering that, Jang Gang teared up. His reaction was so intense it flustered me, but his next words eased it.
"So in this vast world, there's a place that welcomes wretches like us..."
It painted a picture of how he'd and the mixed-bloods had lived. Discrimination against hybrids was a timeless truth, east or west, ancient or modern.
Tears welling, Jang Gang bawled when Kki-ing-i licked him. Left me scrambling to smooth things over. Fresh-off-the-boat Jang Gang might not know, but anyone who mattered knew the white-deer rider was Left Vice Inspector General. Bystanders might think I was bullying good folk into tears.
"Poor guy."
After the storm of a first meeting, Ak I-yeon—who'd watched it all—gave her short take.
"A Super Peak master should have a firm pillar of self. For one to break down crying... how much resentment must he carry?"
"Even if it's father's homeland, to abandon his lifelong home... His whole life must've been one big grudge."
"Probably."
Ak I-yeon nodded bitterly, gazing where Jang Gang and the would-be immigrants had gone. My heart wasn't light either. Super Peaks got respect anywhere. In vast Daesong with its lands and people, imagine tiny Taiwan. He could've lived like a king or noble there. Yet Jang Gang gathered folks like him and crossed to Tianzhou. Like he couldn't stomach Taiwan anymore—couldn't face his own horrific life.
"In this Central Plains, people like us banded together to form a sect. Folks no one wants, vanishing in the boonies."
I recalled his teary words right before leaving. The eleven warriors from Taiwan sought a new life in the murim world.
Of all things, murim. A wry smile escaped me. Jang Gang must not know the court crushes murim like dogs. If he did, he'd enlist instead. But with his iron will and desperate hope setting foot here... Telling him "Murim's done for, try something else" would prick my conscience.
Guess I root for him.
I downed the dregs in my cup. Yeah, let the court back his sect. Born in Taiwan, not tied to murim's karma. Backing a Super Peak's sect snags a masterless master for the court. Plus, sheltering Taiwan-persecuted mixed-bloods with native Taiwanese veins...
Smooths the road to Taiwan someday. Whenever Daesong moved on Taiwan, we'd have insider help. Made backing Jang Gang a no-brainer...
Hold up.
A snag hit as things warmed nicely. How's he gonna build it?
Sects were hard to maintain, harder to found. Founding ancestors weren't revered for nothing. Jang Gang had Super Peak chops for the role, but the base? Disciples' living and training costs? Martial arts to teach? How?
Sure, arts could be their own refined styles, but the rest? Not lightweight issues.
Didn't look rich either.
Jang Gang's getup screamed wanderer. Politely: free, light, practical. Bluntly: hobo rags.
Should I... fund it? This might go beyond backing to straight-up sponsoring the founding.