My Work Starts Now! (3)
Mu Jin.
A member of the twenty-second generation of Wudang disciples.
One of the second-generation disciples of Wudang’s Mu generation, and one of the Wudang Three Swords whose name rang throughout the world.
His epithet was the Greenflow Sword.
There were many other words used to describe him besides those.
What was certain was that he was one of those now leading Wudang.
As a rule, the big and small affairs of a sect were decided by the sect leader and the elders, but the ones who carried those decisions out were the first-generation disciples. And among Wudang’s first-generation disciples, Mu Jin stood at the very top.
Everyone in the world praised him, and everyone in the world looked up to him.
But every rule had an exception.
Today, for the first time, he had met someone who completely ignored his existence.
Mount Hua Divine Dragon.
Mu Jin glared at the masked man before him, cold killing intent in his eyes.
He’s not some idiot with no thoughts in that head of his, is he?
There was no way some fool like that could take down Wudang’s second-generation disciples. Which meant, naturally, that he had to be hiding a trump card.
But to think that trump card would work on Mu Jin as well was sheer arrogance.
The tip of Mu Jin’s sword slowly pointed at Chung Myung.
No more words were necessary. If each of them wanted something, they would only have to cross swords and seize it. That was the way of Jianghu.
“Amitabha.”
Mu Jin quietly recited the Taoist salutation.
As though that salutation annoyed him, Chung Myung cocked his head lightly.
Nice posture.
Steady. Balanced.
Even Chung Myung could not find fault with the stance. There was a reason those arrogant Wudang second-generation disciples had treated this man with unusual deference. Chung Myung didn’t know who he was, but a posture like that meant he had probably made a fair name for himself in Jianghu.
Second-generation disciples were, after all, still only the younger generation.
But the person standing before Chung Myung now was not merely some junior disciple. It was a true Wudang swordsman aiming directly for his throat.
With an aura sharp enough to pierce flesh at any moment.
Chung Myung’s lips curled slightly.
At this level, among all the opponents he had crossed blades with since being reborn, this man was naturally the strongest.
But…
“Ah. Before we start, just one thing.”
Mu Jin’s brow twitched.
“You’re not trying to back out of this now, are you?”
“Of course not. I just want to make a bet.”
“A bet?”
“Yep.”
Chung Myung grinned.
“What’s the point of winning if you don’t get anything out of it? We should each get one thing we want. I’m curious about that sword tomb or whatever it is, so I want to hear what it’s all about.”
Mu Jin stared at Chung Myung in silence.
Even with his face hidden behind a mask, amusement seemed to leak from the corners of his eyes. He was daring to laugh in the face of Mu Jin’s sword…
“Very well.”
“Oh? That’s refreshingly straightforward.”
“However, if you lose, you will remove your mask, bow your head, and apologize. And you will admit that Mount Hua can never be Wudang’s equal.”
“Wow. I already told you I’m not from Mount Hua, but sure, fine. I’ll do that much.”
Chung Myung shrugged.
“But don’t go changing your tune after you lose, got it?”
Mu Jin’s face contorted with humiliation.
“I am a disciple of Wudang. I would rather bite off my own tongue and die than do such a thing.”
“Hah, that’s moving.”
Chung Myung grinned.
This is why guys like him are easy to deal with.
Just scratch them a little, and they’d go berserk all on their own.
“All right then, no point dragging this out. Come on.”
It was the attitude of someone talking down to a subordinate. Soon, murderous energy began to flow from Mu Jin’s body.
“Sahyeong, is he all right?”
“……”
Jin Hyeon could not answer immediately. Even he himself did not know why he couldn’t speak.
That man was unmistakably Chung Myung, the Mount Hua Divine Dragon.
That build, that way of speaking, and above all that frankly insane attitude—what room was there to doubt it?
I never saw his true skill.
When they had clashed with the Mount Hua disciples, the Mount Hua Divine Dragon had only sat in the back and watched. He had never once drawn a sword.
But judging by his attitude, perhaps he had been the strongest of the Mount Hua disciples there.
—With their level, you won’t be able to draw that bastard out. The levels have to match.
Yes. That was what the Righteous Sword of Mount Hua had said.
The very Righteous Sword of Mount Hua who had defeated Jin Hyeon.
But even so.
The Mount Hua Divine Dragon could not possibly defeat Mu Jin.
There was at least a thirty-year gap between Mu Jin and Chung Myung. Mu Jin was the one hailed as an absolute powerhouse among his own generation.
To fight such a man across a span of thirty years?
At best, one might close the gap to another generation. But with two generations between them, it was impossible. How could you possibly win against someone closer to your grandfather’s age than your father’s?
When Mu Jin was roaming Jianghu at Chung Myung’s current age, Chung Myung hadn’t even been born. The power of those years was not something human effort could ever catch up to.
Jin Hyeon understood that perfectly well.
And yet…
Why do I feel so uneasy?
He bit his lip hard.
A burnt child dreads the fire. Having already tasted defeat at the hands of people he had once believed could never lose, he could not calmly accept this situation.
Especially with Chung Myung’s infuriatingly relaxed posture making everyone uneasy.
No.
Bloodshot veins crept into Jin Hyeon’s eyes.
Losing to the Righteous Sword of Mount Hua had been humiliating, but that was where it would end. If Mu Jin lost to Chung Myung too, then that would be the end of everything.
If that happened, Wudang would forever be seen as beneath Mount Hua. At least for as long as Chung Myung lived.
That will not happen! Never!
Jin Hyeon glared at the two men with bloodshot eyes.
Blue sword qi gathered at the tip of Mu Jin’s blade.
It might have been excessive against a young swordsman two generations below him.
But Mu Jin did not pull back the inner force flowing into his sword.
The other man had not only embarrassed Wudang, he was now even picking a fight with him. Punishing such a person was only natural.
The Mount Hua Divine Dragon.
Mu Jin had heard that name more times than he could count.
A rising star suddenly bursting forth from a declining Mount Hua.
It was not often that an event could so excite the gossipmongers. Some impatient souls had already been quick to place him among the greatest prodigies of the age.
There hadn’t been much of note in the two years since the Hwajong Jihoe, so his fame had dimmed somewhat. But fame was only a shell in the end. What mattered were the things this man had actually accomplished.
If all the rumors surrounding the Hwajong Jihoe were true, then the man called Chung Myung before him was no one to underestimate.
Which is precisely why I must break him here.
His expression hardened as he glared at Chung Myung.
At first glance, the masked man did not look particularly strong.
Strength was something accumulated in the body through training. Once one reached a certain level, even if one did not wish to display it, it naturally seeped out.
Every movement followed the principles of martial arts, and an imposing aura quietly leaked from the body.
That was why, even without crossing blades, one could roughly judge another’s strength.
But there was not the slightest trace of a master’s aura in this masked man. If Mu Jin hadn’t observed him approaching closely, he might have believed him to be nothing more than an ordinary bandit.
No, a deranged bandit, probably.
Impossible to tell.
Whether he was strong or not. Whether he was sane or not.
He was as though all the chaos in the world had been gathered up and stuffed into one person.
“You can stop with the staring contest now. I told you to come at me.”
“You want me to strike first?”
“Yep.”
“...Me?”
Mu Jin’s brow twitched.
Could those words from earlier—telling him to come at him—really have been serious?
No matter how much the man insisted he wasn’t from Mount Hua, it was painfully obvious that he was Chung Myung. And now he was telling Mu Jin, who ranked two generations above him, to make the first move?
“There’s a limit to arrogance.”
“Then I’ll go instead. Don’t blame me when you regret it.”
“You—”
It was just as he was about to bark out a shout.
Whoosh!
With the sound of the air being split apart, something flashed past his face.
Drip.
It was only when hot blood began to run down his cheek, split open in a long line, that Mu Jin realized it had been a sword wind sent by Chung Myung.
“……”
“I said hello.”
Chung Myung grinned.
At that moment, Mu Jin completely discarded any thought of underestimating Chung Myung.
If he had aimed for the throat, my throat would be gone.
Had he been careless?
No. He had not been careless.
Chung Myung’s sword had simply been several times faster than he had expected.
Mu Jin bit his lip hard.
An inexcusable mistake.
But it was not yet beyond redemption. Mu Jin tightened his grip on the sword in his hand.
“I appreciate the consideration.”
“Consideration, my ass.”
Chung Myung shrugged.
“If you’re going to thank me, I’d rather you at least take it seriously and do your best.”
“Of course…!”
Blue light flared in Mu Jin’s eyes.
“That was my intention!”
He drove his foot into the ground.
Then he shot toward Chung Myung at a speed so great it was almost invisible to the eye.
Chung Myung’s eyes lit up at the sight.
That’s more like it!
Mu Jin, the Greenflow Sword.
Even Chung Myung, who had not paid much attention to Jianghu lately, had heard that name at least once. He was that famous.
Which meant…
Show me everything you’ve got.
He could find out.
How different Jianghu was now from the Jianghu of a hundred years ago.
Had the martial arts of Jianghu advanced?
Or had they weakened because of everything lost in the war with the Demonic Sect?
The disciples of Zhongnan could not serve as a measure. Their martial arts had been twisted, and the ones Chung Myung had fought were only the younger generation.
But Mu Jin could serve as that measure.
Wooooong!
Mu Jin’s sword erupted in blue qi.
Taechung, maybe?
The sword qi surged like a river.
An immense, rolling great current.
The unbroken sword qi Wudang took pride in. Maintaining that tremendous flow required a massive amount of inner force.
That was why Wudang’s second-generation disciples could not serve as a proper measure.
Wudang’s martial arts were truly the kind that matured with time.
Wudang’s characteristic of outwaiting the enemy and striking first, its softness—those things too ultimately came from the vast inner force that overwhelmed opponents. Even when it was the same art, the power it displayed could differ as much as heaven and earth depending on the depth of the internal energy behind it.
Look.
At that endlessly surging river of sword qi.
Chung Myung narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched the blue, then bluer, wave of sword qi roll toward him.
Greenflow Sword, huh.
The qi suited the name. But…
This still isn’t enough!
Chung Myung’s sword slowly leveled forward. A streak of sunset-red sword qi gathered at its tip.
Woooooong.
Then the sunset-colored qi split the incoming river of sword energy left and right.
Mu Jin’s eyes went wide.
It split it?
This sword qi?
“That’s impossible!”
The shout burst out before he could even think.
Wudang’s sword qi was endless, like silk stretched without break. And yet that sword was splitting it so easily.
“Tch!”
Mu Jin withdrew his sword and thrust again in a flash.
Great River Surging.
The sword qi streaming endlessly from the blade deepened, turning an even darker blue as it poured forward.
Inner force surged up from his dantian and burst out through the sword without restraint.
Wudang’s sword was the sword of nature.
Nature was benevolent, but sometimes it swept over human beings more ferociously than anything else could.
Just as no man could halt the flowing waters of the Yangtze, trying to oppose a sword qi flowing like a river seemed utterly futile.
Perfect!
Mu Jin was certain of the sword qi he had unleashed.
No matter what tricks that bastard had, he would not be able to do anything about this. It was a perfectly executed Great River Surging.
With this sword…
That was when it happened.
“Tsk!”
Along with an irritated sound, a flash of sunset light suddenly burst forth. At the same time, the sword qi he had sent surging forward was knocked in every direction and utterly shattered.
“Kh—!”
The tremendous force transmitted through his wrist threw Mu Jin off balance for a moment, and he staggered backward.
Thud.
Sinking to the ground, he saw the masked man ahead of him, calmly lowering his sword.
“Not worth looking at.”
The masked man shook his head. Then he gripped his sword properly and began walking toward Mu Jin.
“Wudang Three Swords, my ass. That’s your level?”
“……”
“I think I’ll start by beating the hell out of you.”
Without a moment’s delay, Chung Myung charged at Mu Jin.