Slaughter Karma
A remote stretch of the marketplace where Beijing’s filthy runoff collected and pooled.
A rough-looking underworld thug guarding the mouth of the alley caught sight of me and barked in surprise.
“What the hell? Who are you?”
“This kind of guy.”
A kick that doubled as a self-introduction — no questions asked, no answers needed. The bastard’s chest took the blow and he went flying like a soccer ball, tumbling end over end.
“Who the hell is this punk? How’d he even get this far?”
This time it was the gatekeeper watching a shabby house, throwing out his own vicious demand.
“Like this, you bastard.”
Thud!
Again, no questions, no explanations — just the Hundred Knots Divine Fist. The gatekeeper sailed off like a kite with its string cut.
Crash!
His heavy body slammed into the thin wooden door of the house and blew it apart in a racket of splintering timber. Wood cracked. Furniture shattered.
“That looked like it hurt.”
“Think about how much more my leg hurts from kicking him.”
I had no sympathy for the pain of child kidnappers. I answered Ilhong briefly and stared at the wrecked entrance.
“Shit! What the hell!”
“Who the hell dares?!”
Like a kicked beehive, the Gwanghae Gang came pouring out. Big, ugly scoundrels flooded the doorway in an instant. Then they spotted two kids who didn’t even come up to their chests, and their faces twisted with pure disbelief.
“What the hell are these little shits?”
“Hey. You two do this?”
One of the underworld types pointed at the dangling wreck of a door.
“……Boss. Isn’t this a little too many?”
Ilhong hadn’t expected there to be this many of them. He tapped my arm, voice tight with worry.
“Whoever they are, both of ’em got pretty faces. We’ll sell ’em for a high price.”
“You dare act out in front of the Gwanghae Gang?”
“I’ll show you hell, you brats.”
Was that really something a full-grown adult said to children? The underworld men started closing in, tightening the circle. Overwhelming numbers — but no matter how many bodies you had, space was limited, and the most that could attack at once was about eight.
And my true master, the man who beat his disciple with love, Hwang Geolgae, had once told me this: with a dog-like personality like mine, I’d get surrounded a lot, so I’d better learn how to block attacks from all eight directions at once. In other words, he had taught me the art of breaking a gang-up.
“Boss, why’d you go quiet all of a sudden……? You’re not going to lose, are you?”
Ilhong’s question was soaked in anxiety.
“We win.”
I clenched my fists and declared it short and clear. The Gwanghae thugs burst out laughing.
“This punk says he’s gonna win?”
“Huh. What kind of crazy little shit is this.”
“Maybe smelling some incense will bring him back to his senses.”
A clear murderous intent rose off them — they meant to wreck the arrogant brat right in front of them. An ordinary kid would have shriveled up on the spot. Me? I was the Heavenly Killing Star. I felt like a fish that had finally found water. The thick red killing aura blooming through the area almost pointed out where their killing blows would come from next. And with the promise of bloodshed in the air, a crimson energy of my own began to crawl up over my skin.
“Fine. I’ll snap your arms and le—— urk!”
Strike first, win first. Faster than words. The loudmouth in front took a fist to the chest and went flying.
“Y-you little bastard!”
“Kill him!”
Riled up and tangled together without any order, the underworld men charged. I drove both legs into the ground and settled into the stance of the Hundred Knots Divine Fist. Endless beatings under a Peak Realm master. Days of training that left me black and blue. It was time to check the results.
“Come on, you bastards.”
Hwang Geolgae had once told me a story. In Kaifeng, the Beggar Sect’s home base, a certain kind of thrashing sound rang out every year when the dog days arrived — the sound of beating to death any dogs that had bitten or killed people, using the Dog-Beating Staff. And that sound, he said, was extremely satisfying.
Crack!
“Yaaargh!”
The sound of an internal-energy-charged fist exploding against an enemy’s cheek. In the front yard of the house, a noise very much like dog-beating began to ring out in a continuous chain.
Thud!
“Ack!”
My dantian surged. Four years of internal energy raced along the fine meridians of my whole body and out into my limbs. Power that could split stone flooded through me. My thoughts accelerated. From every direction, the enemies’ killing intent tangled in like a spider’s web. Eyes and mind found the gaps and reacted; my body drove into those openings and scattered fists among the enemy.
“……This bastard’s martial—— urk!”
A fist shot out like a streak of light. The blow, powered from the hips, landed and sent a skinny thug flying, teeth rattling loose in a spray. It was like a perfectly choreographed scene from a kung fu movie. Rookies who couldn’t even hide their fighting spirit and battle will, banking entirely on numbers as they piled in. Fists and legs flew from every side. There was the sound of impacts, noses bursting with blood, someone’s arm snapping, screams tearing free.
“Ack!”
“Shit! This mouse-sized little shit!”
It felt strange. After trading blows with Hwang Geolgae’s lightning fists, mixing it up with these scoundrels made the world itself seem to slow down. Tak! Tak! I parried or deflected the flying arms and legs and drove my own fists in return. Against enemies surging in like a wave, I never gave ground — I hit, I broke, I smashed, and I advanced. There were times I read the form but my reaction speed couldn’t keep up and I took a few hits, but—
“B-Boss!”
—I just chewed through the pain and fed them counterattacks. A real man’s fighting style, possible only for a Heavenly Killing Star who could survive a blade through the gut.
Two fists, packed with internal energy, streaked out like meteors and drove into an enemy’s chest at the same time. The man lifted off his feet and crashed into the ones behind him, knocking them down like bowling pins.
Crack!
A kick that crushed a nose and blasted consciousness clean out of a man in a single blow.
Fists rained in from every direction like a hail of bullets, but neither the speed nor the pain came anywhere close to Hwang Geolgae. Against those clumsy forms and clumsy bodies, I found myself snorting even as I knocked them aside. I read every attack. So I allowed only shallow wounds and never stopped dropping enemies. After I’d pulverized bone and flesh and wrecked more than ten of them, the ones facing a little kid started to waver.
“Shit! What kind of kid moves like that……!”
“Did some famous sect send him?”
“Don’t tell me this is about the kidnapping job?”
They’d done so much dirt that they were already misunderstanding each other. Fair enough — to raise a martial artist of this level at my age, you’d need a famous orthodox power dumping spiritual medicines and secret techniques into him. And places like that sometimes smashed underworld gangs just so a rising master could pad his achievements or make his Jianghu debut.
“Look at that footwork, sliding around like a ghost! That’s not something you learn on the street!”
“Damn it! This is why I said we shouldn’t take every job that came our way.”
A dozen-odd gang members had gone down in an instant to a single brat. Faced with that absurd result, they started treating me like a rising expert raised by a major sect. Well, I was from a famous family — even if all I’d gotten was betrayal and abandonment, with nothing actually taught.
“Fuck it! I’m getting out of here!”
“……Hey! Where do you think you’re going!”
Misunderstanding bred misunderstanding, and in the enemy ranks that had lost their will to fight, the first signs of an unstoppable collapse began to show. A few underworld men who had been watching decided this wasn’t worth it and bolted.
“Are you insane?! If the Big Brother finds out you ran, you’re dead, you bastards!”
“And if word spreads that you lost to a kid, you won’t be able to work the underworld anywhere!”
A few of them, panicked by the split, shouted for the runners to come back.
“Damn it! Even if my jaw’s wrecked I still can’t work the underworld, so what’s the difference!”
One guy pointed at the thug whose jaw was still dangling from the First Ring Kick earlier and scrambled out of there. That argument had some real persuasive power; a strange silence settled over the few underworld men left. They stared at each other without a word.
“Ah, screw it!”
“I’m out!”
One man’s flight became two, then three, and before long it was an “ah, whatever!” free-for-all as they all turned tail together. They had never had any real loyalty to begin with, so the collapse was instant. The entrance to the house emptied like a tide going out.
“Hah…… hah…….”
I finally let out the breath I’d been holding for the sake of my bluff. Endless enemies, attacks flying from every side — if Hwang Geolgae hadn’t taught me how to deal with that, I would have been in far worse shape. I deflected what needed deflecting, took what needed taking, and answered with counters that finished the job for certain. Dozens of fists and kicks, whirled out like a gale with every ounce of strength in my body. I’d crushed ribs, caved in noses, and snapped arms and legs. Of course, when a little kid pulled off superhuman power, there was a price. More than eighty percent of my internal energy was gone. My once-solid four years of power sat at the bottom of the reservoir like a drought-stricken pond.
“Hoo. Guess I need to pile up more good deeds.”
A way to chase both a longer lifespan and stronger internal energy at once: stack merit, strengthen the power of the Cloud Star Heart Method, shrink the evil star, and steal its strength bit by bit.
“……Boss, you okay? Looked like you took quite a few hits earlier. You’ve got some pretty good bruises too.”
Ilhong, who had jumped in meaning to help and taken a few hits himself, rubbed at a bruised spot as he asked.
“This much is just a scratch.”
“Uh, your finger’s bent the wrong way…….”
I snapped the finger I’d broken blocking a flying club back into place with a crack. Ilhong made a face like he was done with my tough-guy act.
“These guys hit like softies. Why doesn’t it even hurt that much?”
I meant it. A club had come down on my shoulder and it still hurt less than Hwang Geolgae’s fist. That old beggar could crack your skull with nothing but a noogie. What kind of principle did he load into his punches?
“……How do I get strong like you, Boss?”
The question of a kid who had just witnessed the legend of one man wiping out an underworld gang.
“Eat lots of meat dumplings.”
I dusted the dirt off my plain clothes as I said it. Proper nutrition in a growth period was essential. He was already born cute — might as well grow up big and strong. Thinking that, I strode boldly through the wrecked entrance of the house.
Crack!
A club smacked me square in the face. There wasn’t even a shred of fighting spirit in the blow — as if he’d swung it on pure impulse.
“W-why won’t you die! You rock-headed bastard!”
Apparently one of them hadn’t come pouring out with the rest earlier and had been hiding. Being called rock-headed was bad for my mood. I immediately threw a palm strike and spun his jaw to the right. The thug collapsed, spitting teeth.
“……Boss, didn’t that hurt?”
“It hurt like hell.”
A thin trickle of blood ran down my forehead. Getting hit a lot had dulled me, not erased my sense of pain. When someone put everything they had into a club to the face, it was going to hurt.
“So even the Boss is human.”
“What, you thought I was a monster?”
On Earth, those only showed up in stories. But this was a place of martial arts and spirit beasts — for all I knew, they existed somewhere here too. I rubbed the throbbing spot and shoved the ragged curtain aside, stepping inside.
Then the scene inside the house filled my vision.
“What the hell is this…….”
Children bound tight like captured criminals, or with their feet tied like slaves, all crouching together in a huddle. Clearly these people had been trafficking humans on the side all along. Unlike the warehouse where they’d only kept beggars, there were kids in openly wealthy clothes too. Had they been trying to squeeze money out of someone with threats?
“The way of the Jianghu really has hit rock bottom.”
What was wuxia? Martial power and chivalry. But this world was full of trash who had all the martial power and none of the chivalry. Dogs in human faces. I almost regretted not having a Dog-Beating Staff in my hand.
“W-who are you?”
“Please, help us!”
Bundles of good karma…… no, the poor kids cried out for help. Their cheeks had hollowed out from whatever ordeal they’d been through since being grabbed.
“Hang on. I’ll cut you loose.”
Lately it felt like I was doing a lot of good deeds without even getting paid. Probably because it was so unlike me, the merit was stacking hard. I had no doubt it would all come back as internal energy and lifespan.
“Ahh, thank you so much!”
“I will repay this kindness. What is the young hero’s name?”
As I snapped the bindings on their hands and feet, the kids poured out their thanks. I shrugged and introduced myself.
“I’m Dan Mujin, the troubleshooter who solves any problem, no matter what. Spread the word a little for me.”
People had to know you existed before you could do business. So for now, I was focusing on getting my name out there. After promising to spread that name far and wide, the children slipped out of the shabby house one by one. With that many rescued, the advertising effect ought to be solid. Expecting my name to spread all across Beijing, I was about to step out the door with a pleased look on my face when a heavy set of footsteps sounded outside.
A huge man built like a mountain bandit was stomping toward the house.
“Huh?”
He cocked his head once at the underworld men sprawled through the alley, then again at the ones passed out around the entrance. Finally he looked at me, standing bold as brass in the front doorway like the architect of the whole mess, and let out a hollow laugh.
“I come back to grab the kids’ belongings and the place is a wreck? Hey, kid. This your work?”
He was a man with a leopard-print long robe wrapped tight around his waist like a bandit. A massive blade suited to his frame hung at his side, and his heavily trained body and unusual presence filled the air. Ilhong recognized the features and tapped my arm, giving me the name.
“Boss, that’s him! The Heavenly Panther Bandit!”
Apparently the head of the local Gwanghae Gang had arrived.
“I like that pretty face of yours…… but you made my house look like this, so for the sake of face, I can’t let you live.”
The giant called the Heavenly Panther Bandit reached for the scabbard tucked into his robe.
Shiiing.
The long, sharp edge of steel revealed itself to the world. In front of a blade like that, my toughness didn’t mean much. Unless I wrapped myself in protective qi, the moment I was cut or stabbed, blood would burst free.
“Heh. Instead, I’ll just carve off your face and sell it. There’s a market for that, you know.”
The Heavenly Panther Bandit licked his lips, already counting the big money rolling in. The moment he drew the sword, an unusual aura poured off him. Killing intent on a completely different level from the small fry. Thick red murderous aura flooded the house in moments. The Heavenly Killing Star that had been sleeping inside me snapped awake and thrashed in violent response. And there was something else strange. Besides the killing intent billowing out like smoke, there was a pitch-black, ominous mass seated inside his body — the exact opposite of the energy forged from good deeds in my own dantian. I thought I might have heard Hwang Geolgae talk about a phenomenon like that. If you kept killing people not for justice but out of malice, he had said, that kind of Slaughter Karma piled up. And he had warned me: if he ever saw something like that inside me, he would cut my head off on the spot.
“Ilhong. What exactly did this guy used to do?”
Even as he trembled under the blasting killing intent, Ilhong dredged up the information.
“Uh, the Heavenly Panther Bandit will do kidnapping or murder if there’s money in it, and he’s got a record of multiple brutal killings, and he’s, how do I put this…… a really famous…….”
“Piece of shit?”
“Yeah. That.”
Ilhong nodded as if I’d hit the word right on the nose.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
And as the two kids tore him down like a comedy duo, the Heavenly Panther Bandit’s face went ice-cold and he spat a curse.
“Fine. I’ll make you beg me to kill you, you little brats.”
An even denser, thicker killing intent exploded outward. As he strode forward with the sword leading the way, the wooden floorboards screamed under his weight.
“……Boss, you’ve fought armed martial artists before, right?”
With that presence rolling in, Ilhong asked in a shaking voice beside me.
“I’ll try it today.”
“…….”
Everything had a first time. The way out was already blocked by that man, and Ilhong didn’t know light-body arts, so running wasn’t really an option. That left fighting. Wasn’t this body born with that kind of fate in the first place? I circulated my internal energy and settled into the stance of the Hundred Knots Divine Fist. With that much Slaughter Karma piled up on a piece of trash like him, taking him apart ought to net me a massive haul of good deeds.
“Come on, you son of a bitch.”
Once you set foot in the Murim, blade-work was something you accepted. I crooked a finger, beckoning him in.