03 — I'll Give You a Hundred Seconds

Do Gwang had reduced the third disciples to meat paste in an instant. Even without a Status Window to consult, he'd managed a rough self-diagnosis.

...Looks like those traits definitely came through.

He'd never been a psychopath who felt ecstasy from killing. So how else could he calmly survey this blood-soaked carnage, and not only that—

A snort escaped him. The corner of his mouth curled up involuntarily, a smile that belonged unmistakably on the face of a killer.

Do rationalized his unconscious smile as the effect of that insane trait. ...Well, whether it was really the trait's doing, or his dormant true nature had finally awoken, nobody could say for certain.

I mean, I crammed a lot of good effects into those traits...

But this wasn't a game anymore. Just as the flavor text suggested, the traits seemed to affect his emotions directly. The only reason he wasn't completely devoured by this murderous impulse and could still hold onto his reason was probably other traits like [Taeheojeonggyeong] imprinted on his body.

Anyway, having finished his assessment, Do had deliberately kept only Jin Hun alive.

...I need to test something.

This wasn't a game controlled with mouse and keyboard. It wasn't a dream he could wake from at will. This was reality. The Cheongseongpa bastard collapsed on the ground, and the dark path bastards tied up in the cart staring at him with horrified eyes...

...I could just kill them and be done with it.

Yeah, he could just beat them all to death and wash his hands of it. But he had to think about what came after.

"Hey, old man."

Do rested the massive iron pillar, still dripping blood, on his shoulder and beckoned to Jin Hun with his free hand.

"What are you doing?"

"......?"

"I thought you were fighting for your life?"

"Th-that... I..."

Of course he'd had no intention of fighting. The bastard was planning to use his disciples as meat shields and run. Do had seen it clearly in that split second—the flash of relief on Jin Hun's cheap face when he'd smashed the third disciple first, and the way he'd even started glancing at escape routes. But the whole situation had been resolved so quickly that Jin Hun hadn't even managed to attempt a getaway. His legs had just given out.

Facing Do now, the bastard had no fight left in him. But that left Do with a problem.

"Hmm..."

This was a bit troublesome. Not completely, but a bit.

So.

Snort.

Do deliberately let out a mocking laugh, as if to rub it in. Then he muttered to himself for a moment.

"Ugh... will he understand if I put it this way?"

He held up three fingers toward Jin Hun.

"I'll give you three seconds."

"......?"

"What, you didn't understand? I said three seconds."

Jin Hun's eyes darted wildly. Did he mean three seconds to escape?

"Haah..."

Do let out a long, exasperated sigh. He could clearly see what was going through that idiot's head. So he decided to explain it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nicely.

"That thing you're holding, old man."

Do pointed at the sword sheath hanging from Jin Hun's waist.

"If you even scratch me with that, I'll let you live."

"...!!"

Finally understanding Do's words, Jin Hun's pupils quaked. This was the kind of mercy an overwhelming master or a lofty senior showed when facing a junior! But could he actually manage to wound that monster in just three seconds? The sheer terror and pressure made him unable to even touch his sword handle. His lips just trembled.

"Th-Th-That..."

"Haah..."

Do sighed again. Now genuine irritation was rising. Thanks to traits like Taeheojeonggyeong, his mind always remained calm. But his body had been crammed with extreme traits like Gwangpaemudo and Cheonsalseongrim, and the urge to crush this pathetic bastard's skull was seething inside him.

...But I have to endure it.

He needed at least some practical combat experience. Killing weaklings who couldn't fight back was easy enough, but real experts of the martial world wouldn't fall to this kind of brute force. Even if his body was slathered with all kinds of OP traits, actually moving this body was still Do's responsibility. So he forcibly squeezed out some patience. And to provoke the bastard further...

"...Is three seconds too few? Then how about ten? No, a hundred?"

Do looked down at Jin Hun and asked insultingly. Jin Hun's face immediately flushed.

"A-a hundred seconds...?"

A hundred seconds! He could grudgingly accept ten seconds—the gap was huge but still plausible. But a hundred seconds? Sure, this bastard might be some great martial artist, but a whole hundred seconds?! Jin Hun was, after all, the second disciple of Great Cheongseongpa! Even if he was terrified, having his meager pride as a martial artist trampled like this infuriated him.

And on top of that—

"Pfft...!"

"Heheh! Ha ha ha!"

The dark path bastards tied up in the cart started laughing at him openly. His pride was being ground into dust.

The dark path thugs had also been confused and terrified at first by Do's absurd brutality. But they'd clearly heard what the Cheongseongpa bastards were yelling at odds with each other about earlier.

—An assassin of Status Window!

—You bastard... so you were a secret assassin nurtured by Nokrim!

—So the Nokrim bastards... were raising such a terrifying monster behind the scenes!

With the simple minds of bandits, they'd stupidly misunderstood the whole thing.

'As expected of our boss! May he rest in peace, but we always trusted in him!'

'So the money we brought him didn't just go to whorehouses after all!'

As a result—

"Didn't the Status Window assassin brother give you a hundred seconds, you antlered bastard? Puhahaha!"

"A hundred seconds, kek! What, is the orthodox sect scared to even draw his sword? Gonna piss his pants?"

Tied up with ropes and on the verge of death themselves, the bastards were yapping triumphantly as if they'd gained a powerful ally. Watching their pathetic display, Do's eyes narrowed.

...Don't worry, I'll kill you all too.

He silently reaffirmed his commitment to a clean massacre.

Tremble tremble!

"Shut up, you filthy dark path bastards, cowering behind a borrowed authority!"

Trembling all over with humiliation, Jin Hun finally rose to his feet. And then—

Shiiing—!

With a metallic scrape, his sword was drawn.

But separate from drawing his sword—

"A-a hundred seconds...! You said you'd give me that, right...!"

Jin Hun opened his mouth with a trembling voice at his pathetic display. Do looked at him like he was staring at a toy and snorted.

"Yeah."

At that sneering reply, cold sweat poured from Jin Hun's forehead like rain.

'Calm down, Jin Hun! A hundred whole seconds, a hundred seconds!'

No matter how much of a monster this bastard was, there was no way he couldn't even scratch him after a hundred strikes! He just had to graze him, and he'd be let live! The odds were more than enough! Yeah, even just brushing against his clothes would be enoug—wait.

"U-um..."

Jin Hun hesitated again, his pathetic voice wavering.

"...?"

Do tilted his head curiously.

"Th-that... when you say scratch... do you mean skin... or clothes...?"

"...Wow."

A genuine exclamation of awe escaped Do's lips. Could an orthodox martial artist of the Nine Great Sects really be this pathetic?

"...Old man, do you want to die right now?"

"N-no! I'm going I'm going!"

Terrified, Jin Hun hastily gripped his sword and charged at Do. Stupid bastard. He should be ambushing, but he kindly announced his attack and then rushed in!

Anyway, the technique Jin Hun unfolded was—

Cheongpungsipsik ()!

The nineteen basic forms that served as the foundation for all of Cheongseongpa's sword techniques.

Whoosh—!

Swish—!

As the second disciple, despite being in a state of confusion, his movements flowed smoothly, the rhythm of decades of practice evident. But Do didn't even leave his spot. He just swayed his upper body lightly, dodging every strike.

'Whoa...'

Even he was amazed. A short exclamation of wonder escaped him. The time it took for Jin Hun's sword to thrust toward him was surely no more than an instant. But—

S...w...i...s...h...!

In Do's eyes, that brief instant seemed impossibly slow. Jin Hun's movements were perfectly readable, stuttering like a low-spec computer screen broken into single frames.

What's more, a bluish-white guideline appeared in the air around Jin Hun's sword tip—a trajectory that showed exactly where the sword would go next! That's right. In Do's vision, even the opponent's muscle movements and qi flow were vividly clear. Another trait to thank for that.

'...Nice.'

The traits were working like to be working like crazy. Do hadn't just wanted to get a feel for real combat—he also wanted to test how his OP traits manifested in reality.

Whoosh—! First form.

Whoosh—! Whoosh—! Whoosh—! Second, third, fourth!

Up to the nineteenth form, Jin Hun's sword only cut through empty air, never touching even a single hair on Do's head.

'...Good... so good...!'

Do trembled with exhilaration. This wasn't a game beyond a monitor controlled with keyboard and mouse. It was even better than the virtual reality games he'd desperately wished would be released. Hundreds of times better.

'This is fun...!'

Meanwhile—

'Wh-what kind of sorcery is this...!'

Jin Hun's mind had gone completely blank. He'd poured out all nineteen forms, and the bastard's clothes—no, not even the wind of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his sword had touched him. It wasn't that Do's movements were too fast to see. Do was just avoiding every strike like an eel slipping away, as if he'd never been there in the first place.

'Wh-what do I do!?'

Should he pretend to keep attacking, then spin around and sprint away? While dwelling on these cowardly thoughts, Jin Hun's body unconsciously came to a halt.

"...What are you doing?"

Do's brow furrowed.

"Still eighty-one times left, old man."

The countdown was extremely precise. It was no different from a terrible death sentence—eighty-one more chances, and then he'd be killed.

'Sh-should I run? Or...!'

Jin Hun's eyes darted wildly. Then, a contemptuous voice flew into his ears.

"...What, are you telling me that as a second disciple, Cheongpungsipsik is all you know?"

"Th-there's no way that's true!"

Jin Hun snapped, flaring ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up. But inside, he was panicking.

'Wh-what the hell is this bastard!?'

He had to be confused. They hadn't even exchanged names, so how did this bastard know he was the second disciple and even the name of the sword technique he was using!

Of course, Do knew very well. With how many hours he'd played this game, how could he not? And he knew perfectly well that among Cheongseongpa's second disciples, Jin Hun was the most rotten in terms of both character and talent.

'...But this is still a shock.'

Yeah. He hadn't expected the guy's opening move to be Cheongpungsipsik.

'A basic sword technique that even third disciples use...'

Even if he'd been given a hundred seconds, in this life-or-death situation, he really hadn't expected Jin Hun to burn nineteen of them on that. Of course, as a technique from a major orthodox sect, it was perfectly serviceable for dealing with small fry like Heukpyochae. But this bastard was a second disciple. He had to have learned more martial arts than this! The fact that Cheongpungsipsik came out first meant... that was the only technique he could use naturally and confidently in actual combat.

This was exactly why the main sect didn't give him much training time and instead stuck him with annoying tasks like herding third disciples or wiping out local bandits. Realizing this truth, Do provoked him even more blatantly.

"No, huh? Then what is it..."

He paused.

"...Are you just a fucking idiot?"

"A f-fucking idiot...!?"

Jin Hun's face crumpled. A fucking idiot, to a sword master of the Nine Great Sects!

"Pfft...!"

"Heheh! Hahaha!"

The dark path bastards tied up in the cart started clutching their stomachs and wheezing openly. There was no greater humiliation.

"Why, am I wrong?"

Do sneered, tapping the blood-covered club against the ground.

"Isn't it common sense to lead with your strongest, most confident attack and try to crush the bastard's head right away?"

"Th-that's..."

"Even if I gave you a hundred seconds, shouldn't you be going all-out while your stamina is freshest?"

"W-well..."

"Oh, wait. Were you planning some dramatic final attack? 'Ultimate technique for the knockout!' thinking you'd turn it around?"

"......!"

Jin Hun's body froze like a stone statue. Hit right in the weak spot. He could make excuses about conserving stamina, but the truth was he'd been probing because he had no confidence in anything beyond the basic technique.

Snort.

"Goddamn idiot."

"Wh-what did you call me!?"

Idiot again. Not just idiot, but goddamn idiot! And on top of that—

"Puhahahahak! Look at that antlered bastard's tomato face!"

"He really is an idiot! A goddamn idiot! Hehehehe!"

The bandits' blatant mockery lit the fuse.

"Aaaaghh!! SHUT UP!!! I'LL TEAR YOU ALL APART AND KILL YOU!!!!"

Completely losing his mind, Jin Hun's eyes rolled wildly as he let out a monstrous shriek.

"Fine! I'll show you, just like you said! My ultimate technique!"

'...Wow, he actually said that cheesy line out loud.'

Do was inwardly horrified, letting out a hollow laugh.

"DIE!!!"

Enraged, Jin Hun charged.

The ultimate martial art of Cheongseongpa, flowing like passing clouds! Cheongungeombeop ()!

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

But the links between the forms, which should have flowed smoothly and continuously, kept breaking. His posture was extremely sloppy. Flashier than the basic technique, sure, but full of holes—actually easier to dodge.

"Idiot."

Snort.

"AAAAGH!! STOP CALLING ME AN IDIOT!!!"

SWISSSH—!!!

"THEN WHAT ABOUT THIS!!!"

Jin Hun twisted violently and launched into his next technique! Songpunggeombeop ()! A sharp, fierce fast-sword technique meant to cut through pine groves! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠But if he couldn't even properly handle Cheongungeombeop, Jin Hun's sword was just a clumsy, blunt piece of iron being swung around.

Swish—

This time too, Do just slightly tilted his head and let the sword energy flow past him.

And then—

Snort.

"Idiot."

He provoked him once more.

"AAAAAAGHHHH!!!!!!"

Crying blood with shame, Jin Hun finally pulled out all the stops, channeling his internal energy to its limit.

Fwoooosh—!

A faint sword energy gathered around his blade and burst forth. This was the real ultimate technique that Cheongseongpa's second disciples trained! Cheongnoegeombeop ()!!!

But a bastard with shoddy foundations, forcing a technique beyond his limits—his sword path was tangled and the flow of qi was nothing but chaotic. In Do's eyes, the path to self-destruction was clearly visible.

So, what came back to Jin Hun after he missed his all-out attack was—

Snort.

"Idiot."

The same thing.

"AAAAAGH!!!"

His own sword, having cut through empty air without even touching Do's breath. And behind it, Do's relentless mockery.

"Keuk! What was that supposed to be? That's a technique from the Nine Great Sects?"

"Aigo, maybe I should give up banditry and join Cheongseongpa! Hehehe!"

The dark path bastards' irritating interjections hammered at his ears.

"Keu... keock...!!"

Jin Hun's face turned deathly pale as the qi in his dantian began to reverse. At this rate, he'd fall into deviation and become a cripple.

"Uu, uwaaaah...!!"

As he coughed up blood again and tried to raise his sword—

"Old man."

Do's cold voice sliced through Jin Hun's rampage.

"I think the hundred seconds are all used up now. Right?"

Do brought the iron pillar down from his shoulder and planted its end on the ground. Since he wasn't a martial artist, he didn't know exactly how many exchanges constituted a single form. But Cheongpungsipsik. Cheongungeombeop. Songpunggeombeop. Cheongnoegeombeop. The bastard had desperately spammed four entire sword techniques with everything he had. Even at minimum, that was well over a hundred swings.

And the moment he realized that fact—

"Ah..."

The boiling frenzy of Jin Hun's mind, teetering on the edge of deviation, cooled down instantly. Perfect anger management therapy. How could it not be?

"Now it's my turn, right?"