Chapter 140: Cheon Seo-jun (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 140: Cheon Seo-jun (1)
The principles behind the Disguise Technique weren't particularly difficult.
To put it simply, it was like performing reconstructive surgery with internal energy. By materializing one's qi, a martial artist could build upon their bone structure or mold their skin like clay.
Higher-level Disguise Techniques might involve more profound methods, but he didn't need that level of sophistication right now. It was enough if his face simply looked different at a passing glance.
Besides, ever since reaching the Peak Realm, Seo-jun had been playing around with his internal energy as easily as a child playing cat's cradle.
"Like this?"
Squelch!
His facial muscles and skin shifted and warped.
Hong Angae, sitting mere inches away, dropped his jaw.
"You crazy bastard... That’s disgusting! Get your face out of my sight!"
Hong Angae had seen all sorts of things in his long life, but watching a human face being grotesquely kneaded like bread dough in real-time was a bit much for his stomach.
Grinning as he finally got the hang of it, Seo-jun quickly finished molding his new face.
"How is it?"
Hong Angae squeezed one eye open, took a peek at Seo-jun’s face, and burst into a boisterous laugh.
"I don't know whose face that is, but it sure is ugly."
"This is your face, though."
"...Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"...I can't believe it."
Dejected, Hong Angae snapped his mouth shut.
Of course, neither of them was being entirely serious. Regardless of his skill in manipulating internal energy, Seo-jun’s artistic sense wasn't exactly top-tier. He hadn't been able to perfectly replicate Hong Angae’s features.
Hong Angae grumbled.
"Anyway, why did you ask me to teach you a Disguise Technique when you already knew how to do it?"
Seo-jun lied shamelessly.
"I just wanted to see if you actually knew how to do it."
"Good grief."
Belch!
Hong Angae let out a loud, unabashed burp and took a swig of liquor from his gourd.
"Want a sip?"
He offered it to Seo-jun, but Seo-jun immediately declined after seeing the greasy lip marks smeared on the rim.
"No thanks."
"Heh heh, more for me then."
As they bantered, the judge’s booming voice rang out across the arena.
"Sam-gu of the Beggar Sect!"
Seo-jun perked up at the mention of the Beggar Sect.
"Is that him?"
"That’s right. Sam-gu. He’s nearly at the Age of Thirty, so the timing to enter worked out perfectly for him."
Twenty-nine? So he was technically an older brother figure.
Of course, Seo-jun had absolutely no intention of calling him "Hyung." Even if the man looked like he was in his forties due to severe premature aging...
If he had a problem with it, he could go reach the Super Peak Realm first.
"Un-baek of the Mount Hua Sect!"
This time, it was a name Seo-jun recognized.
Un-baek? That Un-baek?
He sharpened his vision to get a closer look, and it was indeed him. Brother Baek, the man he had shared drinks with before leaving Shaanxi. To think the connection from when Un-baek served as a judge during the Mount Hua tournament's preliminaries would carry all the way here.
I wonder if Un-jak is here too?
He had quite fond memories of drinking with Un-baek, Un-jak, and Chun-bong.
"Do you know him?"
Seo-jun nodded at Hong Angae’s question.
"We’re probably close."
"What do you mean, 'probably'?"
"Well, I’m not entirely sure if Brother Baek thinks we’re close..."
"Man, you’re a young lad with zero social skills."
Hong Angae chuckled, then let out a deep sigh as he looked down at Sam-gu.
"I’d almost prefer it if he just got his ass kicked once."
"What? Me?"
"No, not you. That fellow Sam-gu. He was raised so pampered within the Beggar Sect that his arrogance pierces the heavens. If you don't know your own place in the Murim, you’re bound to die early."
Pampered? In the Beggar Sect? Was that even possible?
Feeling a fundamental sense of doubt, Seo-jun smirked and gestured toward the arena with his chin.
"Then cheer for Brother Baek."
"That’s also a bit..."
"Ugh! Then just do whatever you want."
The duel began.
Sam-gu of the Beggar Sect versus Un-baek of Mount Hua.
It started with Sam-gu’s preemptive strike. He approached with a slouching gait, then suddenly twisted his waist to violently thrust his staff forward.
Un-baek calmly unfolded the 24-Move Plum Blossom Sword Technique, seeking to counterattack from a defensive posture.
"Oh."
Seo-jun kept his eyes fixed on the duel as he asked, "Want to make a bet?"
"What kind of bet?"
"On who wins."
"I’m betting on Mount Hua."
"Hey, I was going to bet on him!"
"Heh heh, too slow."
At a glance, Sam-gu seemed to have the upper hand. His staff swung rapidly, dominating the space, and Un-baek lost his rhythm a few times dealing with the Beggar Sect’s characteristically free-spirited movements.
"Dammit...!"
However, Sam-gu knew the truth. Not a single one of his strikes was actually landing properly.
Those annoying plum blossoms spread out, restricting Sam-gu’s range of motion, while Un-baek’s sword slowly tightened the noose around Sam-gu’s throat.
It was a sword style unlike the typical Mount Hua style. Usually, one would think of flashy and aggressive stances when imagining Mount Hua’s sword, but Un-baek was different. He focused on defense, using the plum blossoms to gradually and methodically solidify his path to victory.
"What are you doing, fighting like a girl?!"
Sam-gu gnashed his teeth and unleashed the Dog-Beating Staff Technique.
Despite the name implying a clubbing meant for stray dogs, Sam-gu’s execution made him look more like a ferocious hound itself.
"Rushing in blindly isn't being manly; it’s just being ignorant."
Un-baek smiled faintly and shook the tip of his sword.
The staff fell rapidly toward his shoulder. The sword touched its side, vibrating slightly, and as plum blossoms bloomed, the heavy staff was effortlessly deflected.
Whoosh!
Having lost his balance due to the sheer force of his own downward strike, Sam-gu’s eyes widened.
"Eek...!"
Using the momentum of his deflected strike, he launched himself into the air, twisting his body to deliver a flurry of kicks.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
His feet drummed against the air, leaving behind faint white afterimages.
Un-baek smirked.
"Good work."
He had already stepped back half a pace, slipping just outside the range where the kicks could land. He immediately unleashed a technique.
Plum Blossom Scattering (梅화紛紛).
The countless red plum blossoms already spread across the arena flickered. The fading petals were drawn in by the wind from his sword tip, swirling chaotically to completely surround Sam-gu.
"Aaaaaagh...!"
Though the plum blossoms looked beautiful, their essence was deadly fragments of Sword Qi.
The duel ended with Sam-gu’s scream as he was violently engulfed by the storm of petals.
"Winner, Un-baek of the Mount Hua Sect!"
On the arena stood a Shaolin elder who had jumped in to disperse the plum blossoms, and Sam-gu, who had collapsed, bleeding from head to toe.
Un-baek performed a Fist and Palm Salute.
"It was a good duel."
"Urgh...! Dammit!"
Sam-gu reluctantly returned the salute and stomped off the stage with heavy, angry steps.
What a personality.
Seo-jun clicked his tongue at the sight, then suddenly remembered his own behavior and straightened his posture. He wasn't exactly in a position to judge anyone else's personality.
"There are exceptionally many talents in this generation."
At Hong Angae’s words, Seo-jun turned his head.
"Really?"
"Indeed. That fellow Sam-gu might have a trash personality, but he’s got skills."
Seo-jun recalled the way Sam-gu fought. It was a style that brought to mind words like 'wild' and 'instinct.'
In contrast, Un-baek’s sword felt calm and restrained. Rather than flashes of brilliant talent, it was a sword forged through grueling training and relentless effort.
Of course, without talent, it would have been difficult to reach that level at his age, but it clearly wasn't a realm reached through talent alone.
Cool.
Though he sometimes teased others about their lack of talent, he couldn't help but feel genuine admiration when he saw the fruits of such effort.
In the first place, he didn't mock effort. He only mocked people.
When he mocked someone he disliked, he just happened to throw in comments about their talent if the opportunity arose. Saying, "Why can't you do this? Why don't you just give up on martial arts?" was essentially his way of saying, "I really hate you."
When he teased as a joke... well, anyway. That was just a joke.
The perpetrator, Lee Seo-jun—who easily forgot his own misdeeds—quietly went back to watching the Yongbong Gathering.
No one he knew appeared in the second or third duels. If he had to stretch it, there was a woman named Hwangbo Hye-ji. He was seeing her for the first time, but since she was from the Hwangbo Clan, couldn't they be considered half-acquaintances?
Hwangbo Hye-ji’s opponent was a martial artist from an unknown sect, and the match ended in an easy victory for her.
And then came the final duel of the day.
"Namgung Myeong of the Namgung Clan!"
His younger brother, and...
"Yeong-ryeong of the Emei Sect!"
The female version of a Shaolin monk. She hadn't shaved her head; instead, her hair was tied tightly and hung down to her waist.
Seo-jun, who had been practicing the face he would create with the Disguise Technique, asked once more.
"How about a real bet this time?"
"I’m telling you right now, I’m betting on the Namgung Clan."
"Hey, I’m betting on the Namgung Clan too!"
"Well, I suppose it’s only right for a Namgung man to bet on the Namgung Clan." Hong Angae scratched his head and nodded as if being generous. "Heh heh, fine. The Emei Sect won't go down that easily anyway."
Soon, the judge declared the start of the duel.
The beginning was quite static. Both held their swords drawn, carefully gauging each other. Without approaching, they read the flickering tips of each other's blades, neutralizing potential moves with small, measured steps.
Then, in an instant, Namgung Myeong took a large stride forward.
Seo-jun’s eyebrows twitched at the sword path he drew.
Starting right off with the Emperor Sword Form?
BOOOOOM—!!!
Following a heavy, explosive sound, silence momentarily fell over the arena.
Clang!
A sword blade rolled across the ground, snapped cleanly in half.
Yeong-ryeong of the Emei Sect gulped. Namgung Myeong’s sword had completely sliced through hers and was now resting lightly against her throat.
"I... I lose."
"Good match."
As Yeong-ryeong saluted with a dazed expression and Namgung Myeong returned the gesture, the judge shouted loudly.
"Winner! Namgung Myeong of the Namgung Clan!"
Waaaaaaaah—!!
The crowd erupted in cheers at the most decisive victory of the day.
Seo-jun, watching blankly, just blinked.
"...Whoa. My brother is really strong."
Part of it was the sheer power of the Emperor Sword Form, but there was simply too large a gap in their fundamental swordsmanship. Yeong-ryeong hadn't been able to read Namgung Myeong’s sword at all, while Namgung Myeong had completely grasped and shut down her movements in an instant.
As Seo-jun belatedly clapped, Hong Angae let out a hollow laugh beside him.
"Haha... Unbelievable. You sneaky brat. You wanted to bet on this?"
"No, I didn't know it would end like this either."
"Quiet! Hmph..." Hong Angae grumbled.
Seo-jun chuckled and leaned back in his chair.
"Buy me dinner sometime."
"Does it feel good to extort a meal out of a beggar?"
"It feels great."
"What a wicked lad."
*
Even throughout the rest of the Yongbong Gathering, Seo-jun cleanly ignored the blatant, piercing stares from General Cheonyang and left the area the moment the duels ended.
He had already informed his companions that he would be back a bit late due to some personal business.
What was that business?
"Heh heh, you insect. Ah, ah. Mic test. Mic test. One, two. Hmm... No. Should I make it a bit deeper?"
Standing in a secluded spot, Seo-jun changed his appearance using the Disguise Technique and even altered his vocal cords by applying the same principles. He then checked his reflection.
He didn't have a mirror, but at the Super Peak Realm, projecting and visualizing his own appearance in his mind was easy.
The version of himself he saw was actually quite decent. To put it briefly: it oozed middle-aged charisma.
Since he lacked artistic sense, he had used a real person as a reference and added a few personal tweaks, resulting in a very respectable look.
The person he referenced was the Great Hero Soul-Stealing Demon, the man who had so generously donated the Star-Absorbing Great Art to him in the past. He added a bit of creative flair to what he imagined the man would have looked like in his forties.
"Watching you squirm so pathetically is quite a sight."
The concept was an arrogant and obnoxious Murim elder—a true Great Demon.
This was pretty good. Looking older would also prevent certain misunderstandings.
His name would be... Cheon Seo-jun.
The backstory he decided on was that he was a legendary figure who would one day evolve into the Heavenly Demon Seo-jun. Well, for now, at least.
"Anyway, shall I get to work?"
The Murim troublemaker was officially clocking in.