The One Left on the Cliff
Excess is as bad as deficiency. That was what the old saying meant.
And I was bringing it up now for a reason.
Because I was living through something that fit it perfectly.
Tss-tss-tss—
All the merit I had piled up, even taking blades for it, plus the forty years of mountain essence locked inside that fleeceflower root—the momentum of the Seongun Simbeop was unstoppable. It hammered the weakened Heavenly Killing Star without pause and stole its power at every opportunity.
Then the anomaly hit.
Crack—
A hairline fracture traced itself across the surface of the blazing crimson star.
I cut off my energy circulation on the spot and ran straight to Hwang Geolgae to report the astonishing discovery.
“What crack? You wet yourself?”
Drunk as a lord, Hwang Geolgae spouted nonsense first, as always.
“No. The Heavenly Killing Star cracked.”
I jabbed a finger at the crown of my own head—the same spot that usually received a knuckle-rap whenever he was bored.
“Hah? That even possible?”
“That’s why I’m asking you.”
My face was dead serious, so he finally set the wine jug down and pressed a hand to my skull.
“Hmm…”
His eyes flickered with a bluish light as he cycled the Seongun Simbeop. A deep furrow carved itself between his brows. His expression hardened into something grave.
“Figure anything out?”
“Not a clue.”
Sometimes this old man was completely useless. He had put on the whole air of a man who had just uncovered a great secret, and then—
“Though I do have one theory. Never thought the Seongun Simbeop possessed a function like this…”
Whether he had burned off the liquor with internal energy or not, his gaze was already calm and heavy.
So what exactly was this phenomenon supposed to be?
“You’ve piled up a mountain of merit lately, and with that foundation you’ve been pounding the Heavenly Killing Star nonstop until a crack appeared on its surface. That it?”
“Yes, exactly.”
I had bled freely to save Ilhong, rescued the kidnapped children, and even arranged jobs for the orphans who had nowhere else to go. In just the past few days the number of people I had pulled out of the fire already topped thirty.
“Even a boulder will wear a hole under falling water. If you can keep widening this tiny flaw…”
“If I can?”
Hwang Geolgae stroked his chin beard and continued in a quiet voice.
“You might just escape the destiny of the Heavenly Killing Star.”
“…”
My eyes flew wide open.
Was he saying I could dismantle the time bomb sitting inside my skull—the one that could go off at any moment?
“…I can actually shatter the Heavenly Killing Star?”
“If that was the true intent of the one who passed this method down, then yes.”
Great. So it either worked or it didn’t, depending on the whims of some mysterious Daoist whose name I didn’t even know.
“In any case, keep stacking merit. Never stop striking the weakened star and siphoning its power.”
Even the greatest dam begins its collapse with a single hairline crack—or so the saying went. If I didn’t want to be swallowed by the Heavenly Killing Star, I had to keep piling up good deeds without rest. That was his advice.
“You think I can just stack merit whenever I feel like it? First I need incidents or jobs that actually let me do it.”
“Brat, that’s why I keep telling you to play the chivalrous hero for once.”
That money-losing, back-breaking nonsense?
“I already told you last time—if I do a job, I expect proper pay for it.”
There were already more than enough people who tried to lowball other people’s hard work. Even Ilhong had only become my client after promising to split the lottery winnings fairly.
“So what, you planning to become a vagabond?”
That was a kind of troubleshooter too. I had no reputation yet, so no one was looking for me. Starting there seemed as good a plan as any.
“Yes. Same work, but those guys get paid properly.”
“Tsk tsk. What a worldly brat.”
Hwang Geolgae made a face like he had bitten into something sour.
“A guy living with both feet planted in the secular world is supposed to be worldly. Have you ever gone so hungry your belly stuck to your spine, old man?”
Smack!
The instant I talked back, a knuckle cracked down on the top of my head.
“This old man used to be a beggar too, you cheeky little shit.”
Lightning-fast ambush.
“Son of a—!”
“Heh heh. The second this brat gets hit he forgets all about seniority.”
My skull rang. Every blow felt like it shaved a few points off my intelligence. Hwang Geolgae just grinned and claimed his hands were healing hands while I seethed.
“Who in their right mind would pay good money to hire a vagabond who folds from one little knuckle-rap?”
“You call that a little knuckle-rap? And who says I need someone to hire me? I already took down a Second-class martial artist who carried a blade.”
I had killed a fighter with a proper moniker. Surely I could dig up one or two clients. Even if my age kept the jobs away, I still had my big sister’s connections to lean on.
“Second-class martial artist? You mean that alley brawl where you barely won by jamming a sword into the guy’s gut?”
“A win’s a win. And thanks to the Seongun Simbeop I’ve made some real progress.”
It wasn’t just internal energy this time. They said the Heavenly Killing Star learned fastest in life-or-death bloodbaths, and it turned out to be true—the Hundred Knots Divine Fist, Whirlwind Steps, and the heart method itself had all leaped forward.
“Having a bit of internal energy means nothing if you can’t control it. Might as well be useless.”
“Then why don’t you check for yourself whether it’s useless or not?”
I clenched my fist tight, stepped forward with my right foot, and dropped into the opening stance of the Hundred Knots Divine Fist, baiting him.
As I’d said earlier, the Heavenly Killing Star only doubled its growth rate when life hung by a thread.
“You’re provoking this old man? You really have lost your mind.”
“Didn’t you know? Heavenly Killing Stars are born crazy.”
I was the mild version. And this dazzling progress had taught me something: even if I got beaten half to death, if my martial arts improved, I still came out ahead.
“Disciple here will commit the crime of insulting his master today.”
A formal declaration of contempt toward one’s own teacher. Hwang Geolgae let out a disbelieving snort.
“There he goes talking shit again.”
He clicked his tongue, muttering that I always pulled this the moment I got a little internal energy.
“You’ve been smacking me first every single day, so this time I’m taking the first move.”
The pea-sized core of energy inside me had already swollen to the size of a quail egg. Add the heightened killing intent and fighting spirit, and if I truly risked my life the way I had when I dropped that Pressure Point master in the alley, I might just land one clean hit on that old raccoon.
“You talk like the win’s already in the bag. Fine. Come on, then.”
Amused by my cocky demand, Hwang Geolgae flashed a crooked grin.
The moment the words left his mouth, a bone-chilling fighting aura boiled up from every inch of his body.
“…Here I go!”
A chance to test both my progress and my limits at once.
I felt the fierce internal energy flooding every meridian, then drove the tip of my foot into the ground.
Thud—
The faint fragrance of tea lingered in the office of the Eunseong Merchant Group.
Eun Hwaran was midway through lifting a cup of Dragon Well when her brows twitched at the guest who had appeared like a ghost.
“Noona.”
Inside the merchant group, only one person was allowed to call her that.
“Mujin?”
She turned her head. The boy who had once brought her the red robe stood there grinning.
He had clearly mastered Old Man Hwang’s ghostly footwork; she hadn’t sensed him approach at all.
“But what on earth happened to your face?”
Eun Hwaran reached out and touched Dan Mujin’s bruised cheek. He looked like someone had worked him over thoroughly—there wasn’t a single unmarred patch on him.
“Got into a fight with a certain cranky old man.”
A cranky old man. That would be Old Man Hwang, no doubt. She had once spied on their training sessions; the way they went at each other was pure slaughter.
“Want Noona to put some wound salve on it?”
“I’m fine. Spit works.”
Dan Mujin casually wiped the dried blood from under his nose with the back of his hand. He was clearly in pain, yet he refused to show it—very much a boy trying to act tough. A small smile tugged at Eun Hwaran’s lips.
“Boss! Slow down a little…!”
A child with a short ponytail came panting after him.
“Ah! Greetings, Merchant Leader Eun!”
She had followed without thinking, only to realize she was standing in the merchant leader’s private office, and nearly jumped out of her skin. She bowed with perfect formality. At that age, that was the proper reaction when meeting someone like Eun Hwaran.
“Noona. Mind if I eat this?”
Mujin, on the other hand, was something else entirely. Not even four months since they met, and he already treated her with the cheeky familiarity of a real younger brother.
“Oh, this is good. You try some too, Ilhong.”
He sniffed out the sweet candied fruit, popped it into his mouth like he owned the place. The more she watched him, the more he reminded her of someone.
“Boss… is it really okay to just eat the Merchant Leader’s snacks?”
A thin, reedy voice. The little girl who had been glued to Mujin’s side lately. They even trained together sometimes. Had Old Man Hwang taken her as a disciple, or was he simply teaching her a few moves?
Eun Hwaran’s evaluating gaze lingered on Ilhong for a moment.
“Noona said last time I could eat whatever I want.”
“That’s not the point. How does a boss like you even have a big sister this amazing…”
Covered in dust she had looked like any other street kid, but once cleaned up, dressed, and presented properly, she was unmistakably a girl—still a bud waiting to bloom, a talent whose future looked bright.
“Just sort of happened.”
Mujin answered shortly, too busy chewing to bother with explanations. Shoving food into his mouth the second he saw it—probably a leftover habit from his beggar days.
“So what brings you here, Mujin?”
Eun Hwaran calmly sipped her Dragon Well and asked. The mellow flavor and fragrance filled her mouth. She was drinking the same tea as before, yet it tasted less bitter; the cash-flow problems had eased somewhat. And that, too, was thanks to the boy currently munching dried persimmon.
“Noona, you know the Beijing Vagabond Association?”
“Of course. I’m even on good terms with the Association Master. Whenever we’re short on escort hands we always drop by.”
Dan Mujin nodded as if that was perfect. So they were basically the temp agency that filled holes in escort jobs.
“Then can you introduce me?”
Eun Hwaran tilted her head, puzzled by the request.
“I can, of course… but are you planning to become a vagabond?”
“For now.”
“I hear taking other people’s commissions is no easy work.”
“As you know, I’m pretty capable. I’ll be fine.”
Come to think of it, that very capability had already saved the Eunseong Merchant Group twice.
“If that’s the case, why not try working for an escort agency? Noona will push hard for you.”
Her eyes sparkled as she made the offer, even dangling a high position, but Dan Mujin didn’t budge.
“I’ll think about that after I solve my own problem.”
It was a solid job, but when would he ever stack merit while hauling cargo and doing business? He politely declined, saying he would just accept the thought.
“Anyway—can I get that introduction to the Vagabond Association?”
Looking regretful, Eun Hwaran finally nodded.
“Take this Eunseong Badge with you. Tell them I sent you and they’ll take care of you.”
Dan Mujin accepted the small round metal token and slipped it into his robes.
If he had shown up alone they would have kicked him out with a “What is some brat doing here?”—exactly the way things had gone when he first hunted for work in Beijing. But now he had the solid backing of a merchant leader from one of the Ten Great Merchant Groups. That was the power of connections money alone could rarely buy.
“Thanks, Noona.”
“Anytime. Just say the word.”
Eun Hwaran set her teacup down and reached for a sweet by habit. Only then did she notice that Dan Mujin had already demolished the entire plate of snacks.
A Heavenly Killing Star body that had just finished a fight burned through calories at a terrifying rate, but neither Eun Hwaran nor Ilhong knew that. They simply stared at him with weary eyes.
“The more I look, the more you resemble Old Man Hwang.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
“Excuse me? How dare you insult me like that?”
Dan Mujin firmly denied any resemblance to that filthy beggar. Even the way he denied it was a carbon copy of his master.
“Heh.”
They bickered and yet they were two of a kind—an endlessly entertaining master-disciple pair. Eun Hwaran hid her mouth behind her fan and laughed for a good while.
A slender face, skin white as fresh snow, long hair bound tightly into a high ponytail.
A beauty whose expression was steeped in mourning leveled a blood-smeared sword at something.
“Ghk—why is the Cold Flower Jade Maiden here…!”
The sword tip mercilessly slit the throat of the demonic leader mid-shout.
Blood fountained. The man who had massacred an entire village gurgled, thrashing, and died. Even with hot blood soaking her from head to toe, the woman maintained an untouchable dignity—the very image of the Cold Flower Jade Maiden.
“Because of scum like you… my little brother…”
When human evil reaches its peak, Heaven grows wrathful and sends down the Heavenly Killing Star. Moyong Cheonghye looked down at the demonic leader who had slaughtered countless innocents with eyes full of contempt.
If only there had never been men like this.
“…No. The most vicious one of all is me—the one who cut down my own brother with my own hands.”
The reason she had held together with rage against evil blurred under a tidal wave of guilt. The hand gripping the sword trembled violently.
“Cold Flower Jade Maiden, why not rest a moment before we move on? At this rate you’ll collapse first.”
The Leader of the Murim Alliance’s Demon Exterminating Squad looked at Moyong Cheonghye with open pity; she was clearly pushing herself past the limit.
“Leader, where is the next demonic leader?”
“Cold Flower Jade Maiden…”
Words no longer reached her. The Leader exhaled a long, heavy sigh at the woman who had sealed herself off completely.
Moyong Cheonghye sheathed her long sword and turned away.
“I have no right to rest.”
Summer had passed and the first cool winds of autumn had begun to blow. In her heart she was still standing on that cliff where the storm had once raged.