Heavenly Thunder... Martial God? (7)
A sincere voice, a solemn expression. At Jin Yeo-rip's words, everyone's eyes went wide as saucers.
"Gasp!"
"Sh-Shaolin?"
"Does that mean he really called down lightning?!"
To their astonished exclamations, Jin Yeo-rip simply nodded. Very, very slowly. These kinds of moments were best savored when drawn out nice and easy.
Shaolin secret art: Heavenly Thunder. It was a name he'd slapped together on the spot, but damn if it didn't roll off the tongue. Sounded legit as hell, didn't it? Impossible not to believe.
They'd all seen the guy get fried by a bolt right in front of them, and the origin of that technique was Shaolin. The North Star of the Central Plains murim, the patriarch of Central Plains martial arts. Who would question a thunder-summoning technique existing somewhere in a thousand years of history?
Great actor, great backstory. The situation fit, the words fit—scam perfected.
Now that the con was on, time to reap the rewards. Jin Yeo-rip steadied his trembling, strengthless legs and faced Dokbi with a grave, dignified expression.
"You're Dokbi, right? Or was it Tanggu? You've transcended mortal limits through martial arts, yet you wield that power in such an inhuman way? As a disciple of Shaolin, I cannot stand idly by! Today, I open the gates of slaughter to judge you!"
His fierce glare pierced them like a reprimand, making Tanggu and Dokbi flinch in surprise. They'd probably heard "master" thrown around plenty in their time. But what could they do? Had they ever tangled with lightning?
"Pilsaeng hyung."
"Yeah?"
"Step back. I'll handle these two. You too, Seong-gil hyung."
"Huh? You're gonna take on Dokbi and Tanggu by yourself?"
"Hey! Didn't you see that?"
"......"
"Move aside."
Jin Yeo-rip issued the command with firm resolve. But beneath his calm facade, his insides were burning black. Please, please buy it. Get scared and scram, please.
The lightning was long gone. Even if it was still nearby, there was no guarantee it'd strike the same spot twice, and with no weapons, they couldn't serve as lightning rods anyway.
That was the desperate hope. But people rarely bent to one's will entirely.
Dokbi's eyes still burned with battle lust. If anything, he seemed intrigued by Jin Yeo-rip. What a belligerent old bastard! Fight and you'd get beat to a pulp? Why couldn't people show a little flexibility?
Just pretend to buy it! Then I can laugh it off, say I won't chase a fleeing enemy out of mercy! But he was playing Shaolin disciple right now!
No matter how hard he glared, those eyes brimmed only with fighting spirit. And now, as if psyching himself up, white steam rose from Dokbi's body.
Jin Yeo-rip quickly shifted his gaze to Tanggu. The moment their eyes met, the man's body jerked. Bingo. This one's the coward. Time to put the plan into action.
Jin Yeo-rip slowly raised his hand toward Tanggu.
"Wh-what? Me first?"
"'Me first'? The Buddha said there's no order in judging evil. I'm merely starting with what my eyes see first."
"Wh-what?!"
Tanggu startled like a rabbit, eyes wide with terror as he backpedaled. Pathetic. He's done.
"Secret art..."
"Eek!"
Pointing with an eerie gaze and murmuring lowly, Jin Yeo-rip watched Tanggu bolt like a startled deer.
"Heav..."
"Aaaahhh!"
His scream echoed louder than thunder through the woods. No need to watch—he was gone in a flash. That terrified shriek was already fading into echoes.
"Whew."
Jin Yeo-rip exhaled heavily, shaking his head. Thank goodness. At least one bought it.
Truth be told, even if he hadn't run, it wouldn't matter. The fights—Im Pilsaeng vs. Dokbi, Kang Seong-gil vs. Tanggu—were deadlocked. If the bluff failed, they'd just fight it out. He'd burned through his strength, but he'd grasped Tanggi realm anyway.
Still, the easy path was always better, right? Now, just Dokbi left.
"Young master!"
"Young master Jin!"
Kang Seong-gil and Im Pilsaeng hurried to his side. Im Pilsaeng especially looked ready to burst with pride.
It made sense. His mind had been a mess the whole time. That Reverse Heaven heart method Jin Yeo-rip practiced—he'd gone to Shaolin himself to investigate.
"We taught him nothing. We merely gave him a Xiaohuan Dan, and by Buddha's grace, a dantian formed on its own."
He'd heard about the Repentance Cave incident and the pill, but that was it. No clues on how he'd learned the Reverse Heaven method.
And now—a Shaolin secret art? Heavenly Thunder? The name alone was badass. No, he'd one-shot Tak Sobak with it. Sure, it didn't make total sense for someone not even at Tanggi to wield nature's fury, but wasn't that what made it a divine victory?
Yeah, that tracked. A divine victory. Had to be. And at that level, he could've learned the Reverse Heaven method too! All paths lead to the same peak, right?
His chest swelled with admiration.
"Ahh, young master. I can't even put this joy into words. Amazing. Truly amazing. And here I thought you were holding back your power all this time..."
Im Pilsaeng looked ready to cry. Jin Yeo-rip chuckled softly, shaking his head. He'd meant to bluff, but for them to buy it hook, line, and sinker?
Hiding power? That was for story protagonists. This was real life—where death lurked around every corner!
"Pilsaeng hyung."
"Yes, young master!"
"Pick up your sword. Seong-gil hyung, grab your kitchen knife too."
"Yes! Wait, what?!"
"That guy's still raring to fight. We need to team up."
"......Huh?"
Im Pilsaeng blinked in confusion at Jin Yeo-rip's words, glanced at Dokbi, then burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! Good one."
"A joke?"
"Of course! You've got Heavenly Thunder, right? Give that old coot a taste!"
"......"
"Come on. I'll watch from behind."
Jin Yeo-rip sighed at Im Pilsaeng's urging. Are you nuts? Bluffs only work on the right mark.
Dokbi's expression screamed "not buying it." Charging in solo would be a disaster. He had no strength left anyway.
"Pilsaeng hyung."
"Yes!"
"That was a lie."
"Huh?"
"Heavenly Thunder? As if. It was just a lucky hit."
"Lucky?!"
"Obviously? You think people call down lightning like gods? Believe what makes sense."
Im Pilsaeng's beaming face clouded over with doubt in an instant.
"It wasn't real? For real?"
"Yeah, but hey, at least one guy fell for it and ran."
"Th-then the divine victory?"
"Cut the divine crap and get ready to fight."
"......"
Disappointment oozed from him. Even in the pouring rain, his face was crystal clear. Such an easy read.
"Kekeke, kahahaha! Never seen such a cheeky brat! So it was all fake?"
Dokbi roared with laughter at overhearing. Good. He'd been tense as hell moments ago, but now...
Jin Yeo-rip sneered back at Dokbi.
"Old but with sharp ears, huh? Even caught our whispers."
"What?"
"What else? You heard everything, so why ask?"
"You little shit?!"
Dokbi scowled and glared. People were so predictable—strong against weak, weak against strong. Act tough when winning, cower when losing. Some masters. Just bad guys.
"Think you'll be okay?"
"What're you on about?"
"Looked like you're about even with Pilsaeng hyung."
"What?!"
"One of you, three of us."
"......You...?"
"I'm a merchant's son, see. No warrior pride. Just what's profitable."
Glancing around, Jin Yeo-rip snatched a sturdy branch. Wet was perfect—wet wood left no bruises, they said.
"Alright, let's do this? Dokbi gramps?"
"G-gramps?!"
Dokbi looked utterly baffled at the nickname. Ignoring him, Jin Yeo-rip jabbed the wooden club toward him and ordered Im Pilsaeng and Kang Seong-gil,
"Attack."
"......"
"What're you waiting for? He'll croak of old age."
Frowning, Jin Yeo-rip prompted them. Im Pilsaeng chuckled, steadied his breath, turned toward Dokbi, and Kang Seong-gil joined in.
Shandong's top swordsman, former Gu Jungdo, and me. No Heavenly Thunder. But we had numbers!
Kyah! Ptooey! You old fart—you're dead today! Tryna kill me?!
Encircling Dokbi with Im Pilsaeng and Kang Seong-gil, Jin Yeo-rip's face twisted into demonic fury.
"Y-you bastards?!"
No one could stay calm in this spot—even a master. Already battered and internally injured from clashing with Im Pilsaeng, Dokbi backpedaled as they surrounded him in a reverse pincher formation.
Even a dimwit could do the math. Three against one. No chance.
He lived for battle, but not to die like a dog.
"D-damn scum! Vile bastards! Should be boiled in shit!"
His eyes bulged as curses flew. Then why're you backing up? Fight me!
As Jin Yeo-rip advanced, smacking the club against his palm, Dokbi's eyes twitched. Then he leaped back and bellowed,
"You punks! This grudge—I'll repay it someday!"
And bolted like a rabbit. True master speed—vanished in seconds.
"That bastard!"
Im Pilsaeng fumed and tried to chase, but Jin Yeo-rip grabbed him.
"Let it go."
"But..."
"It's over. And honestly, I can barely stand."
Jin Yeo-rip collapsed with a thud. Im Pilsaeng startled and tried to help, but he waved him off.
"I'm fine, just let me sit."
Shaking off the hand, Jin Yeo-rip sighed deeply into the earth. Exhausted. Dizzy from blood loss.
But alive. By sheer luck, he'd scraped by again. Should he do a ritual or something? What curse was this—crises popping up like weeds...
At least he'd grasped Tanggi out of it.
Shwooooaaah!
Rain poured down, as if nothing happened. Feeling the cold downpour wash away the blood, Jin Yeo-rip muttered to Im Pilsaeng beside him.
"Pilsaeng hyung."
"Yeah?"
"From now on, no outings in the rain. Every time it pours, shit hits the fan. Rain and I don't mix."
Shaking his head, Jin Yeo-rip earned an awkward laugh from Im Pilsaeng.
"......Yeah."
After a long pause, he asked,
"It really wasn't, huh?"
"Huh?"
"The, uh, Heavenly Thunder...... Not real?"
"Pfft!"
Jin Yeo-rip burst out laughing at the question. Still clinging to it, huh?
"Yeah, not real. If I could really call lightning, I'd be a Martial God by now."
"I see."
His disappointment was palpable, so Jin Yeo-rip added casually,
"But who knows? Someday, maybe."
"Huh?"
"Might happen. One day, they could call me the real Martial God."
Im Pilsaeng let out a small sigh, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Anyway, treatment first... I'm dizzy."
Jin Yeo-rip swayed and toppled. Im Pilsaeng caught him in wide-eyed alarm.