Chapter 4: Cross-dressing Chun-bong
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 4: Cross-dressing Chun-bong
The men, reflexively blocking the tree branch Seo-jun had swung at them, stared at him in utter disbelief.
"What the... Is he insane?"
What kind of lunatic charged at sword-wielding men with nothing but a flimsy branch? It wasn't as if he were some Murim master.
"Wait...! Time out! Just a second!"
Seo-jun frantically waved his hands. Out of sheer, morbid curiosity, the men actually paused to hear what he had to say.
"What is wrong with you guys? How did you block that?! That was supposed to be a surprise attack!"
"Good grief."
They concluded he really had lost his mind. Giving up on conversation, the men raised their swords.
Chun-bong shrieked in horror.
"You piece of—! Hey! Are you crazy?!"
But Seo-jun had his own excuse.
"Those bastards sliced my belly open!"
"What?! Those lowlifes!"
Chun-bong flared up in anger for a split second, then thought better of it and backed away. Righteous fury was one thing; suicide was another story altogether.
"Hey, hey. Let's get the hell out of here."
"How?"
The moment the word left Seo-jun's mouth, one of the men stepped forward and swung his sword.
Swoosh—!
The blade was wider than an adult's forearm. Its broad, heavy surface made it look exceptionally vicious. Even a fool could see that a fragile branch couldn't block such a weapon.
Whish—!
Seo-jun hurriedly ducked, the heavy steel passing mere inches over his head.
"Ah, seriously...!"
If anything had changed over the past few days, it was his newfound awareness of martial arts and a deeper understanding of his own body. Building on that foundation, his mind raced, desperately calculating a path to victory.
The opponent had a sword; he had a branch. The opponent's weapon was longer, his arms were naturally longer, he was physically stronger, and therefore, he was naturally faster.
"I'm screwed."
Swoosh—!
Seo-jun's face hardened as the cold steel grazed his cheek. There was no other choice.
Steeling himself, Seo-jun lunged straight into the man's guard.
"Is he mad?"
The man drove his knee upward in a vicious strike. Seo-jun had anticipated this. He shoved the man's knee aside with his hand, throwing himself to the side and rolling across the dirt. Harnessing that momentum, he swung the branch in his hand with all his might.
Sweeping a Thousand Armies. Simply put, a horizontal slash.
However, coming from a small child in a crouched position, the strike landed much lower than expected.
Thwack—!
"Urgh...!"
The man staggered, taking a direct hit to the side of his knee. Seo-jun immediately slid his right foot forward. Chun-bong's teachings flashed through his mind.
'Cheon (天) means Heaven. The Mount Tai Pressure Peak derived from it literally means pressing down on the head with the momentum of Mount Tai. What does that mean? It just means a vertical slash.'
That wasn't particularly helpful right now. But then, the oral chant of the Three Talents Heart Method surfaced in his memory.
'Man is originally a lowly creature born of the earth, aiming to ascend to the heavens; only when he reaches the heavens and becomes a Heavenly Being does he achieve the true meaning of Man (人). The first step begins by dragging the heaven at the tip of the blade down to the earth.'
He had no intention of interpreting it like a piece of classic literature. He didn't have the luxury for that anyway. But as the chant etched itself into his mind, a single, vivid image appeared.
Mount Tai Pressure Peak.
The tip of the sword dragging the heavens down. It didn't literally happen, but the imagery guided his hands.
As if possessed, he struck downward with everything he had, and his wooden "sword" slammed into the criminal's crown.
Crack—!
Everything exploded. The branch, and the man's head.
Flying fragments of wood, crimson blood, and greyish brain matter were vividly seared into his retinas. Time seemed to slow down, allowing him to clearly witness the exact moment the man's life flickered out.
"Deok-gu...! You little...! You son of a bitch...!"
The remaining man charged forward in a blind rage. Seo-jun's body moved on instinct through his hazy consciousness. He raised the branch in his hand to parry...
"Ah."
The branch had exploded too, hadn't it? He was completely empty-handed now.
The martial trance shattered instantly. Terrified, Seo-jun threw himself out of the way.
Swoosh—!
The heavy blade cleaved the air, shearing off an inch of his hair. He desperately rolled across the dirt. Scrambling back to his feet, he saw the surviving criminal's face distorted into the visage of a vengeful demon.
"Oh...."
The headless corpse lay crumpled at his friend's feet. Seo-jun desperately wanted to grab the broad blade still gripped in the dead man's hand, but doing so meant stepping right into the surviving enemy's striking range.
Before he could formulate a plan, the man lunged.
"I'll kill you!"
"Shit."
What should he do? Just as he prepared to dodge in a panic—
Tap—
Chun-bong blurred past him.
"Whoa, Teacher is the best!"
The man swung his sword downward in a furious arc. Chun-bong fearlessly reached out. Ignoring the razor-sharp edge, her small palm pressed smoothly against the flat side of the blade.
Swoosh—!
With a gentle, redirecting push, the sword's trajectory was completely diverted. The man's eyes widened in shock.
Chun-bong twisted her waist and thrust her palm forward.
"You...!"
The man ignored the incoming strike. It was just a brat. He resolved to take the hit and split this kid's head open in return.
The price of his ignorance was harsh.
Thump—
The small palm struck the man's abdomen. A faint ripple of wind pulsed outward from the point of impact. The two figures stood frozen for a split second. Then, the man's body stiffened, and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
Blood began to leak steadily from the fallen man's mouth. Based on his extensive knowledge of Wuxia novels, Seo-jun could take an educated guess. He didn't know if they called it by the exact same name in this world, but that was undoubtedly a Palm Technique.
"Haah.... You okay?" Chun-bong asked, panting.
Seo-jun smirked.
"Of course. Didn't you see? He didn't even graze me."
"Not your body, idiot. It's probably your first time killing a person."
"Huh? I'm perfectly fine."
He waved his limbs around, flaunting his unbothered state. Chun-bong let out a short, breathy laugh. However, to Seo-jun, Chun-bong was the one who looked off.
"You're the one who looks terrible. Why are you so pale?"
Despite worrying about him, Chun-bong was clearly in far worse shape.
She's a cocky brat, but surprisingly soft-hearted. Maybe the shock of killing someone was too much for her?
As Seo-jun stepped closer to check on her, Chun-bong shook her head.
"I'm fi— Cough!"
Blood erupted from Chun-bong's mouth like a crimson waterfall.
"Holy... shit...."
Panicking, Seo-jun rushed over to support her frail body. Even then, the blood continued to spill over her lips. Chun-bong managed to squeeze out a few weak words to the dazed boy.
"I-I'm going to perform Qi Cultivation... Stand... guard for me...."
"Right, okay."
He stood awkwardly by her side as she immediately sat cross-legged on the dirt and closed her eyes.
Seo-jun watched her intently, only letting out a long sigh of relief once her breathing finally stabilized.
"Phew.... I thought she was a goner."
As he took a deep breath, the heavy, metallic scent of blood assaulted his nose. Looking around, he realized he'd made quite a gruesome mess. It was impossible to call the sight of a shattered skull and scattered brain matter "pleasant," even as a joke.
Wait. Maybe the hardened people of the Murim would find this sight pleasant?
Regardless, compared to his visceral masterpiece, the guy Chun-bong had taken down looked pristine. Just a trickle of blood from the mouth. Honestly, he looked like he could spring back to life at any moment.
"Huh?"
Twitch! The downed man's finger moved.
It wasn't an illusion. He was actually moving.
Seo-jun shot a nervous glance at Chun-bong. She was still deep in the middle of her Qi Cultivation.
She had warned him in the past that disturbing a martial artist during Qi Cultivation was a fatal mistake. Something about meridians twisting, or worse, falling into Qi Deviation?
Simply put, it meant she'd be completely screwed.
Which meant he couldn't just leave this twitching guy alone.
"Hup."
Moving swiftly and quietly, Seo-jun stepped firmly onto the man's head.
He didn't intend to crush it like a watermelon. That would be a bit too cruel, wouldn't it?
Instead, he recalled Chun-bong's earlier strike. He didn't know the exact mechanics, but it was likely a technique akin to the Internal School Heavy Hand Technique.
From what Seo-jun understood, the Internal School Heavy Hand Technique was a method designed to rupture an opponent's internal organs rather than cause superficial exterior damage.
It certainly wasn't a skill a third-rate martial artist who had just started cultivating could properly execute, but—
"Is it something like this?"
Thump—
He stomped down hard. With a dull, sickening sound, the man's twitching fingertips went completely limp.
Dark blood began to stream from the seven orifices of the now-dead corpse.
"Phew, that gave me a scare."
Wiping the cold sweat from his brow, a pragmatic thought crossed Seo-jun's mind.
Since I don't have much else to do right now, shouldn't I increase my assets a bit?
'Let's see.'
Seo-jun first gathered the heavy broadswords lying in the dirt.
Two whole swords!
This alone was a massive harvest. These were real, lethal weapons that couldn't even be compared to a flimsy tree branch. Armed with these, his combat power would easily multiply several times over.
'Nice.'
After securing the weapons, Seo-jun thoroughly patted down the two corpses. The haul was surprisingly decent.
'So this is what money looks like in this world?'
It was undeniably currency. If he had to make a comparison, they looked like standard copper coins. He hadn't really expected to find the gleaming gold or silver ingots so often described in Wuxia novels. If these thugs had that kind of wealth, they wouldn't be slumming it out here in the first place.
He spent the next ten minutes diligently stripping his new "friends" of all their valuables. Chun-bong still showed no signs of waking up.
'She'll wake up eventually.'
He sat down, pondering his next move while he waited.
* * *
About half a day passed while he sat there, lost in thought.
He wasn't sure of the exact time since he didn't have a watch, but the bright blue sky had bled into a deep crimson dusk, so his estimate felt about right.
'Seriously, what should I do now?'
As his half-day-long deliberation dragged on, a soft rustling sound broke the silence.
"Oh, you're awake?"
"...How long was I out?"
"I don't know. Half a day?"
Growl— His stomach threw a violent fit, loudly demanding sustenance.
Chun-bong let out a long sigh and tried to stand up.
"Ugh...."
"Whoa, take it easy."
When she staggered, he quickly stepped in to support her, and she shamelessly leaned her entire body weight against him.
"Hey, give me a piggyback. I'm exhausted."
"Why are you acting so entitled?"
He grumbled, but he hoisted her onto his back anyway. She was surprisingly light.
As he started the trek back, Chun-bong began to complain into his ear.
"I'm gonna die, seriously.... Why do I have to go through this...?"
"Yeah, yeah, thank you very much. You saved my life."
"Right? Since you know that, go swipe a Tanghulu for me tomorrow. I'm dying for one."
"This brat..."
She was incredibly bold for someone who had just coughed up half a liter of blood.
"Fine, fine."
* * *
Even after they finally returned home, Chun-bong was completely drained of energy.
It wasn't an exaggeration; she was groaning as if death's door was looming right in front of her, which made Seo-jun deeply uneasy.
"Hey, are you really okay?"
"I said... I'm fine...."
People who were 'fine' didn't usually sweat buckets. Her clothes, which were already little more than filthy rags, were soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to her in an incredibly uncomfortable manner.
Strangely enough, a pleasant, subtle scent wafted from Chun-bong's body... but definitely not from her clothes. Unless her sweat doubled as a floral air freshener, those rags were bound to smell terrible soon. Leaving them damp would only breed a bizarre, rotting stench.
"Hah, I can't just leave you like this."
Water? He had some.
A washcloth? If he tore up some spare rags, he had that too.
Preparations were complete.
"Chun-bong, you brat, come here. Let your big brother wash you up."
"...If you touch me, I'll seriously kill you."
"Hey, it won't hurt, so just come here and take off that wet shirt."
"Don't. I told you not to."
Chun-bong squirmed, desperately trying to drag her aching body away from him.
"I-I really told you not to! Hey! Hey! Don't—! You crazy bastard—! Eek! Kyaaaaah!"
"Haha, why are you screaming like a little girl?"
"You crazy pervert...! Don't strip me—! I told you not to strip me! Kyaak! You son of a bitch!"
See? He knew this brat wasn't a guy.