Chapter 1: The Fist King Reincarnates
The Fist King Reincarnates
Episode 1: The Fist King Reincarnates
The Fist King, Dan Woo-sung, was dead.
He was a man more often called by his title—Fist King—than by his given name.
Dan Woo-sung opened his eyes in the body of Lee Jin-eon, the eldest son of the Silver River Merchant Group. Lee Jin-eon had been recuperating from illness in a secluded estate deep within Mount Jiuhua when his life was abruptly cut short.
Even now, Dan Woo-sung didn't fully grasp the situation.
Amidst the confusion, he assumed someone had moved him and was treating his wounds.
But no matter how much he prodded at his abdomen, the sword wound that should have been there was nowhere to be found.
"Hmm..."
The difference between exhaustion and grievous injury was clear. Though his mind was gradually sharpening, his body remained sluggish with fatigue.
Dan Woo-sung scanned his surroundings.
The ceiling was high, the room spacious.
Letters lay scattered across a desk, and the bedding carried the faint scent of a woman's perfume.
But it wasn't just perfume.
There was also the unmistakable odor of a man's release—as if someone had just finished bedding a woman.
When Dan Woo-sung groaned and shifted, a maidservant waiting outside the door spoke softly.
"Grand Prince, would you like some water?"
Dan Woo-sung had never been addressed as "Grand Prince" in his life. Still, his throat was parched, so he answered.
"Bring it."
"Yes."
The door opened, and a maid entered carrying a pitcher. Without looking up, Dan Woo-sung kept his head bowed. As the maid set the water down on the bedside table and retreated, he remained stunned by the sound of his own voice.
It wasn't his usual deep baritone—but the weak, rasping tone of a man long afflicted by illness.
Dan Woo-sung cleared his throat and took a sip, then grimaced.
The water was ice-cold—far too harsh for an empty stomach. He rinsed his mouth and wet his throat before stopping.
'This is strange. Really...'
Who in their right mind would serve freezing water to a severely injured man?
As he glanced around, his gaze caught his own reflection in the wall-mounted mirror—and his entire body stiffened.
Slowly, he turned his head back toward the mirror and stared at the face staring back at him.
"......"
A pale, hollow-eyed young man blinked back at him with startled eyes.
Dan Woo-sung reached up and touched his own face.
'Did someone put a face-changing mask on me...?'
But no matter how much he clawed at his neck, there was nothing to peel off. His fingers trailed along his skin before—without thinking—he slapped his own cheek.
Slap!
Outside, the maid flinched at the sudden sound, tilting her head like a startled deer.
She was thinking the same thing as Dan Woo-sung.
'He's acting strange today.'
.
.
.
Dan Woo-sung stood squarely before the large mirror, examining himself. Then, he gave a slow nod.
'Either I'm dead or I've gone insane.'
A gaunt young man in a billowing white sleeping robe stared back at him, turning his head this way and that. He was handsome—the kind of man who had clearly never known hardship. He looked barely twenty.
Dan Woo-sung nodded again.
'If the Demonic Path had techniques like this, they would've taken over the martial world long ago. But this isn't their doing.'
Even the brief act of standing to examine the mirror left a bitter taste in his mouth.
His physical condition was truly dire.
Staggering slightly, he moved to a chair and began sifting through the letters.
Reading another man's correspondence didn't sit right with him, but given the bizarre circumstances, understanding the situation took priority.
Most of the letters began with the same line:
"To Grand Prince Lee Jin-eon..."
Dan Woo-sung murmured the name aloud.
"Lee Jin-eon."
An unfamiliar name. Yet every letter was addressed to him—the Grand Prince Lee Jin-eon. Skimming further, he noticed repeated mentions of the Silver River Merchant Group.
'Silver River Merchant Group? I've heard of them...'
Dan Woo-sung had always prioritized memorizing the names of powerful martial artists—not merchants or political figures. If even he had heard of them, they must have been obscenely wealthy.
Setting the letters aside, he turned back to the mirror. The unfamiliar man inside still stared back at him.
Finally, realization dawned.
Dan Woo-sung gazed at the stranger's face and spoke.
"Reincarnation...? I've lost my mind."
But he wasn't insane.
Nor was he dead.
He had reincarnated.
< The Fist King Reincarnates - End >