The Lightning Scholar's Proposal
"I'm sorry for being late. I had something to bring with me."
"Not at all. Please, have a seat first."
I hadn't even realized how late it was. Over half a shijin had already passed? I really needed to find a clock somewhere. My internal sense of time was clearly unreliable.
The visitor was a petite young lady about the same height as Cho Yak. Well, that made sense. There was a reason people said to be wary of children and the elderly. She must have trained in martial arts. Come to think of it, Sama Geon and the blind disciple had both carried the unmistakable air of age, so it seemed even those who learned martial arts through unorthodox means couldn't escape the aging process. I felt sorry for my disciple. What terrible luck, picking the wrong master...
"So, how should I address you, young lady?"
I asked while setting down a teacup in front of each of us. The young lady bowed her head in thanks before answering.
"Everyone calls me Ji Gyun, so you may do the same."
"Then... Scholar Ji?"
"Not a scholar. I am a Jeje. My name is Gyeon Yo, and Ji Gyun is merely an alias. You may simply call me Ji Gyun for convenience."
Jeje Gyeon Yo. The name sounded familiar. I searched my memory. It had been one of the most frequently mentioned names in the papers I'd read over the past three days. Her works spanned everything from sim-gong and chuk-gi to anatomy, each one showcasing remarkable originality. I had unconsciously pictured an elderly scholar resembling the head of Jipmudang, so the petite girl before me didn't quite connect.
A Jeje was someone whose scholarly depth was recognized within Jipmudang, granting them both the right and duty to present at lectures. They also reviewed the papers of scholars without presentation rights and assigned positions, placing them on par with full professors or executives. In a world where martial arts training could make outward appearance and actual age unrelated, this wasn't particularly strange, yet the image that still came to mind when I thought "professor" was that of someone considerably aged.
"Ah, my apologies. Then, Jeje Gyeon..."
"Please, just call me Ji Gyun."
Jeje Gyeon—no, Ji Gyun—cut me off with firm insistence. Well, it wasn't uncommon for people to dislike their given names. Or perhaps she simply loved the alias Ji Gyun, regardless of who had given it to her.
"Very well. Ji Gyun."
"Yes. Please speak."
"What's that jar?"
I pointed at the ceramic jar tucked under her arm. I'd assumed it was some customary gift, but its appearance was far too crude for that. Though the surface was smooth, its color was earthen, its shape a plain cylinder without any curves, and an iron spike had been driven into the lid like a stopper.
"Before I explain, may I make a request?"
"Go ahead."
"It seems no one else is coming. While your explanation of the principles behind jeong-jung-dong and mu-bun-byeol-sim was fascinating, my interest in this lecture lies elsewhere."
"Ah..."
"Would it be all right if we discussed that instead?"
But... it was so informative. So entertaining... Still, this wasn't a one-sided lecture, and if her interests lay elsewhere, what could I do? Swallowing my disappointment, I answered.
"That's fine. What would you like to discuss?"
"When you mentioned constructing structures, you spoke of reflexes, did you not?"
"I did."
"It was a profound insight that could only come from a deep understanding of nervous system function. Have you read my paper on how brain qi mediates nervous activity?"
"I have. It was quite fascinating."
At those words, Ji Gyun's previously unfocused eyes seemed to sharpen slightly, though her expression remained calm. She spoke with noticeably quicker diction.
"I knew you would understand. That's why I came to ask if you might share what you know about the language in which brain qi transmits signals through the nerves."
"Hmm..."
Interpreting my silence, Ji Gyun's words accelerated further.
"I understand this isn't something that can be easily conveyed in a few words. And simply asking you to tell me wouldn't be proper either, so how about visiting my laboratory? If you think there's potential, we could pursue joint research. Of course, I would treat you as a complete equal, and you could continue any personal research you're currently conducting alongside it."
"Well..."
I stopped Ji Gyun's machine-gun delivery and asked, "What is the research objective? Something like achieving this goal..."
"Ultimately, the goal is to provide fully functional prosthetic limbs to those who have lost their arms or legs. The government already allocates a substantial budget for compensating wounded soldiers, and civilian demand is also high. I have the relevant data here."
This clearly wasn't her first time making this pitch. The documents she handed over were filled with tables of numbers—something Jo Jae-ui might understand, but they meant nothing to me. I pretended to read them for a moment before looking up and meeting Ji Gyun's eyes, now so bright they seemed to emit light. Her gaze felt like it was poking at me.
"It's a truly fascinating idea, but when you consider practicality, we've only just discovered that nerves are affected by brain qi. Perhaps a bit more preliminary research is needed..."
With each word, the light in Ji Gyun's eyes dimmed, until by the end they resembled dried pollack. I sighed and added, "...Still, I suppose I could visit the laboratory once. The joint research probably won't work out, though."
"Thank you so much. I will never forget this kindness. I'll guide you to the laboratory right away."
"The joint research probably won't work out. Did you hear me?"
There was no reply. I sighed inwardly. How was it that every person I met after leaving the sect was strange? Jo Jae-ui was obviously eccentric, and while Cho Yak was kind, she had her oddities too. Not to mention Master Cheon. This Gyeon Yo friend had shown remarkable dedication by staying up all night to find me, but her behavior suggested she wasn't entirely normal either. Then again, maybe she was strange precisely because she'd stayed up all night to come here. My luck with people was definitely cursed. I couldn't trust Master Ju, so I'd have to find some other capable shaman.
"Hmm... Quite impressive."
That was the most polite assessment I could offer after seeing the results of Ji Gyun's research. Given the scene—animal and human body parts soaked in various colored viscous liquids scattered throughout the room—what more could I say? Most of them were covered in stitch marks or partially dissected, and when Ji Gyun connected several of those jars with copper wires to demonstrate, they began twitching and flailing. It resembled either Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory or the headquarters of some sinister secret sect attempting to conquer the Central Plains through corpse manipulation techniques.
She claimed everything had been legally obtained through official channels, but if I'd been an ordinary martial arts novel protagonist, I would've drawn my sword the moment I entered and shouted, "How could you commit such atrocities!"
"What do you think? You said it lacked practicality, but as you can see, the movement itself is already possible."
"But the precision seems severely lacking."
"...It's improving gradually. We've already reached the point of inducing contraction and relaxation. Watch."
Ji Gyun lifted a limp, grayish-blue arm with both hands. The arm immediately began convulsing and curling like a severed zombie limb from a horror film before going limp again.
...It was morning, yet for some reason I had no appetite. I might have to skip breakfast today.
"Well, I can see it's progressing."
"I'm grateful you recognize that."
She immediately bowed her head. Though we were both Jeje, strictly speaking Ji Gyun was a full-time researcher while I was merely a two-month temporary lecturer, so she must have been quite desperate. But desperation alone wouldn't turn uncooked rice into cooked rice. I was willing to help during my two-month stay, but this wasn't something that could be solved just because I lent a hand. After all, I wasn't some grand master or scholar of martial theory—I was simply a martial artist who'd lived a long time. While I might understand things through my own body, how much help could I be in analyzing and organizing the principles behind someone else's movements?
Just as I was about to apologize and decline, a question suddenly occurred to me.
"By the way, how did you do that just now? You weren't touching the Hamroebyeong."
The jar that supposedly functioned as a battery was taller than my forearm—hardly something one could hide on their person. Yet she'd clearly been holding the arm with both hands moments ago.
"Ah, I practice a special form of qigong."
Ji Gyun looked somewhat proud as she spoke. She raised her thumb and index finger, and a small static spark flashed between them. I reflexively asked, "How is that possible?"
Inner energy was the mind, and the mind was shaped through the senses. To handle fierce inner energy, one needed a fierce mind and fierce movement; to obtain heavy inner energy, one needed an immovable mind and training while holding one's breath underwater. For poison arts or heat-yang qigong, one could cultivate by harboring poisonous thoughts while consuming toxins, or by creating situations that provoked anger and training in a sauna. But how could a person possess a lightning-like mind and feel lightning...?
...Could it be?
As I raised my head with that horrifying possibility in mind, Ji Gyun answered.
"I train while feeling brain qi."
"How?"
"The secret manual I first discovered instructed one to train on a mountaintop during a thunderstorm while embracing an iron spike, but..."
My jaw dropped. Really? Even for a master, that was gambling with one's life. The human body wasn't built to withstand lightning. Only those who had awakened the mind of lightning could endure it. But this was a paradox. To reach that level, one had to train while being struck by lightning, yet without reaching that level, one would die from the strike.
"So that wouldn't allow survival. Instead, I created brain qi through various methods and gradually trained by passing stronger brain qi through my body. The Hamroebyeong is a byproduct of that. While I was at it, I also revised some of the unrealistic training methods to make them usable."
"...I see. That makes sense."
Training while being struck by lightning was absurd. But if one gradually refined oneself by channeling weaker brain qi, one might eventually reach a level where one could withstand actual lightning. A madman who conceived such an impossible martial art and another madman who found a way to practice the impossible had met and turned the impossible into reality.
Lightning arts... In nearly three hundred years of training, I'd never once considered it. Of course, I hadn't separately trained heat-yang qigong, yin-cold qigong, or poison arts either, but at least their existence had been included in the worldview I'd painstakingly reconstructed a thousand times over. But lightning—there was no lightning. How could lightning compare to yin-yang qigong or poison arts? It was literally lightning. In other words, electricity.
I could feel my heart pounding foolishly. Suppressing the overflowing emotions, I met Ji Gyun's eyes with genuine sincerity.
"Could I perhaps see that secret manual?"
Ji Gyun took a step back and bumped into the wall. Before I knew it, I was standing just one step away from her. My hand slowly reached toward her shoulder.
"...You'll definitely help with the research?"
"Of course. I've never gone back on my word."
I answered with my gaze fixed on the bookshelf. The unknown author who first created True Lightning Essence Electricity was remarkable, and so was Ji Gyun for making it usable. Someone like me, who merely deduced things stubbornly from what already existed, could never have conceived of this even after three hundred years of contemplation.
"You really must help. If things continue like this, my research funding will be cut..."
"Didn't you say the government was supporting it?"
I didn't know much about this country's government, but I figured bureaucrats were similar everywhere. Once they started providing funds, it was troublesome to stop, so government institutions tended to keep the money flowing.
"There's another research project with the same objective but a different approach, and their progress is faster."
"Isn't Jipmudang the only place in the Central Plains conducting martial arts research?"
"It's a place called Henan Jin Haksa, sponsored by Prince Han's Palace in Luoyang. Instead of approaching through the nerves, they use corpse manipulation techniques and something called blood arts—it's shortsighted and outdated, but they're producing immediate results."
Ji Gyun's eyes burned quietly as she spoke. It was unfortunate for her, but I couldn't tell how her methods differed from corpse manipulation techniques. However, not wanting to offend the martial theorist who'd created this excellent secret manual, I found an excuse instead of questioning it.
"Well, even so, if it's an institution sponsored by someone of princely rank, their influence must be considerable. The fact that you're holding your own against them alone is impressive, isn't it? It's ultimately just a matter of budget and manpower."
"You're right. Even though they have far more budget and manpower, they shamelessly tried to poach personnel from our side. That man called Guiseon has no integrity as a researcher."
"My, that's quite vicious. It's understandable to be angry, but...?"
Wait, what?
My hand, which had been turning pages, stopped abruptly.
"If only Scholar Bae Do-pyeong had stayed, things would have progressed twice as fast. They offered him double the salary and promised a full scholar position, so we couldn't hold onto him. If only I had a sponsor like Prince Han..."
"Wait, what did you say the name was?"
Ji Gyun, who had been stirring the national coffee with a reed straw, flicked the straw once and turned to look at me.
"Bae Do-pyeong? He was a decent person. We're still exchanging letters—would you like an introduction?"
"No, before that. Didn't you mention something about 'Guiseon' earlier?"
"Ah, you mean Guiseon."
Ji Gyun tilted her head slightly as she answered.
"His name is rather unusual. Outside, they call him something like Grand Scholar, but inside, they call him that. I only learned about it through Do-pyeong's letters, but it stuck with me more. Do you know him?"