Life Was Never Fair to Begin With (2)
"My heavens…"
Even the platform where the sect leaders were gathered was filled with shock.
"Isn't that Divine Fist?"
"He doesn't look that old, and yet he can use the Hundred-Step Divine Fist? Judging by that power, he must be at least at the fifth palm. Hahaha."
"Abbot. How did you hide such a talent so thoroughly from everyone?"
At Heo Do-jin-in's words, Beop Jeong smiled faintly.
"I wasn't trying to conceal the boy and deceive you all. It's simply that he is rather shy, so he has always disliked exposing his abilities."
Beop Jeong softly recited a Buddhist chant, then continued.
"If he himself won't step forward, wouldn't it look rather unbecoming for me to make a fuss about it?"
"That is true, but…"
Heo Do-jin-in could not hide his amazement as he looked back down. On the martial platform, the lone Shaolin monk bowed with palms pressed together toward the audience.
"Is he from the Hyeja generation?"
"Yes, he is. The youngest among them."
"The Hyeja generation? Then he's a first-generation disciple, isn't he? A first-generation disciple…"
"He's actually younger than some second-generation disciples."
"…Ah."
Beop Jeong smiled as though slightly troubled.
"The generations are a little tangled, but it was difficult not to let a child who has barely just turned twenty compete simply because of his generation. I'm sure he would have been quite disappointed as well… If there's anything awkward about it, I apologize."
"Not at all. If he's only just passed twenty, then he naturally has the right to participate. Generation rank isn't all that important."
Heo Do-jin-in quickly cut off any possible complaints from the others.
That one must be watched more closely.
This martial tournament was not over yet.
It was important to win and raise one's name, but it was just as important to learn what kinds of talents were growing in the other sects.
And to miss the chance to observe such a monster over a trivial matter like this would be absurd.
"Amazing. The Hundred-Step Divine Fist at that age…"
"Mm. Truly, I can't help but admire him."
Muted exclamations of awe rose from the sect leaders' lips.
But those words were no mere flattery. The move that young Shaolin monk had displayed was unquestionably worthy of such praise.
The Hundred-Step Divine Fist.
Shaolin's signature boxing art.
If the Arhat Fist was the foundation of Shaolin, then the Hundred-Step Divine Fist could be called its essence. It was one of the seventy-two supreme arts Shaolin boasted to the world, and its difficulty was infamous.
Shaolin martial studies were, in a word, the work of late bloomers.
Hadn't it always been known that fully understanding and mastering those intricate, profound martial arts required decades of arduous training?
And yet he had already unleashed the essence of Shaolin's arts at that age.
And at that level, no less.
Heo Do-jin-in narrowed his eyes.
He had thought Shaolin must have had some hidden agenda in staging this, but to think they had concealed such a blatant trump card.
It had become clear that this Heavenly Martial Tournament had been set up as a stage for that monster's appearance.
"Ho ho. Truly extraordinary."
"Not at all."
Beop Jeong deflected the praise lightly.
"During the preliminaries, he said he did not want to use the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts. From the fact that he drew upon that fist, it is clear his opponent from Mount Hua was no ordinary child either."
"Even so, it cannot be compared to the Hundred-Step Divine Fist."
Without answering, Beop Jeong only smiled faintly.
With this, the attention that had been focused on Mount Hua has been taken away. Though…
He glanced subtly around him.
The expressions of the sect leaders had split into two kinds.
Those who looked deeply frustrated, and those who were thinking intently about something.
The frustrated ones were those who had no confidence they could handle Hye Yeon’s skill. The thoughtful ones were comparing him against their own sects’ most capable disciples.
And then…
Oh?
There was one person whose expression was different from all the rest.
Mount Hua?
Among all those sect leaders, only Hyun Jong did not seem especially shocked; instead, he wore a calm, composed expression.
Had he given up his attachment to victory, or…?
We’ll see after I watch a little longer.
Beop Jeong soon smiled lightly and turned away, continuing his conversation with the other sect leaders.
"W-what was that just now?"
"Did it flash?"
"…No, that's not something you can describe as just a fist."
Did they say that one sees only as much as one understands?
Unlike the other Mount Hua disciples, who were merely focused on the result, Baek Cheon and the others understood just how monstrous that strike had been.
He forcibly reduced the destructive power so Baek Sang wouldn't get hurt.
Baek Sang probably hadn't been harmed in the slightest. That blow had suppressed the fist's explosive force and used only the power to push him back.
They knew better than anyone that subduing an opponent without injuring them was ten times harder than simply hurting them, and so they could only stare at the Shaolin monk on the platform with grave expressions.
"The winner is Shaolin's Hye Yeon!"
Shaolin, which had been sunk in silence, burst into thunderous cheers.
"That's Shaolin for you!"
"He even sent a Mount Hua disciple flying with a single strike!"
"Exactly! That's right! It would've been strange if Mount Hua kept showing off like that. The true strength of a prestigious sect starts from here!"
"What an incredible strike! What on earth was that?"
The spectators, too, shouted excitedly without restraint.
The cheers that had been given to Mount Hua's disciples when they performed were now doubled, all of them pouring toward Hye Yeon. He flushed a little at the attention and descended the platform with quick, tiny steps.
"Mount Hua's winning streak is broken!"
"What did you expect? How long did you think a sect like Mount Hua could keep that up?"
"Even if it was only the preliminaries, isn't it still amazing that they hadn't lost until now?"
"Luck. Pure luck!"
"How could luck carry them that far? Don't be ridiculous!"
"Tsk tsk. You don't know anything. Without real strength, how can they be called a prestigious sect? Unlike Mount Hua, which dragged in every talent it could find, the other sects split their people between those meant to gain experience and those meant to earn results. See for yourself! The moment they ran into the real thing, they broke apart, didn't they?"
"…Mm. I suppose that's true."
"Once the main tournament begins, we'll see the true strength of the prestigious sects."
"Nonsense! Mount Hua has already shown enough for me. I believe in Mount Hua!"
The crowd began arguing among themselves.
But the Mount Hua disciples couldn't hear any of it.
Baek Cheon's gaze remained fixed on the empty platform where Hye Yeon had just stepped down.
"What do you think?"
"That one… heh heh…"
Even Chung Myung, of all people, had an expression of utter disbelief.
"Did I just say something about a genius earlier?"
"Are you trying to say that brat is the real genius?"
"No. That's not even at the level of 'a genius'."
"Huh?"
Baek Cheon turned to Chung Myung with a confused look. But when he saw how serious Chung Myung's face had become, he shut his mouth tight.
Chung Myung stared at the vacant platform and thought,
He's insane.
There were things in this world that only appeared once in a while.
Those who destroyed everything that had existed before and created a new current in its place. In other words, those the world called founders.
Like Bodhidharma, who created Shaolin's martial arts and changed the course of martial arts in the Central Plains, or Zhang Sanfeng, who founded Wudang and opened an entirely new stream within Daoist martial arts.
Compared with such men, the word genius became nothing more than a label for the kind of talent that showed up once or twice in an era.
"Seriously, what the hell is a guy like that doing ending up in Shaolin!"
Damn this world!
It was bad enough that the privileged swallowed up every talent they could find, and now they were even breeding monsters like this? He needed a spear. A spear, right now!
For Chung Myung, who had started from nothing and had clawed his way up from the very bottom, the fact that Shaolin was raising such a monster was maddening beyond belief.
"What a mad bastard. He really is a mad bastard…"
If he grew properly, he could become not only the world's greatest expert, but a man who would go down in the history of the martial world.
And that was precisely why…
"What a pity."
"Huh? Why?"
At Baek Cheon's question, Chung Myung puffed out his chest.
"Because he's tragically been born in the same era as me. Otherwise, the title of world's greatest would've practically been his."
"…"
"And by some rotten twist of fate, he's about the same age as me too. Tsk tsk tsk. If that's the case, he'll never escape second place for the rest of his life. Poor guy."
"…"
"What can you do? Life was never fair. He should just think he's unlucky and work hard. There's no other way."
"…Shut your mouth."
Baek Cheon let out a deep sigh.
"But, Sasuk."
"What?"
"Shouldn't we go fetch him?"
"…Fetch who?"
"Sasuk, I mean Sasuk."
"Why would I?"
Chung Myung snorted.
"Not Jin Dong-ryong, but Baek Sang Sasuk. He'll probably be sprawled out unconscious over there by now…"
"Aaagh! Baek Sangaaaah!"
Baek Cheon screamed in alarm and rushed toward where Baek Sang had been sent flying. Chung Myung sighed and shook his head.
"Not a single one of them's normal. Not one."
Of course, he was in no position to say that.
* * *
"Fifteen entered the match…"
"…"
"And fourteen made it into the final tournament among the one hundred twenty-two participants."
Hyun Jong smiled faintly.
"This is an extraordinary achievement in Mount Hua's history. Today, at least, I can stand before the ancestors in the immortal realm without shame."
"If just one more had won, we'd have had a full sweep."
"…"
Baek Sang grimaced and lowered his head. Baek Cheon immediately barked at Chung Myung.
"Hey, you punk! Do you have to say that in front of his face?"
"I'm just saying it's a pity. That's all."
"You said yourself that he wasn't someone you could beat!"
"Has the defeat hidden in your heart opened its eyes? Why are you making up things I never said, Sasuk?"
"You were the one who said he was strong!"
"Exactly."
Chung Myung nodded in agreement.
"Baek Sang Sasuk couldn't beat him even if they fought a hundred times. Don't worry about it, Sasuk. It just means your skill was lacking. It's not like you let your guard down, and even if you'd done your absolute best, the result would've been the same anyway, so what's the problem… Sasuk?"
Baek Sang, whose rage had flared up again, rolled his eyes back and began choking as he stumbled over. Chung Myung tilted his head at him.
"Did he get hurt or something?"
"You're hurting him, you bastard! You are!"
"Me? What did I do?"
"Please shut up! Please!"
As the two bickered, the Mount Hua disciples watched them with bored faces.
Watching from behind them all, Wi Lip-san smiled faintly.
This place is a complete mess.
Utterly, completely a mess.
The worst part was that Hyun Jong, seated in the center, was looking at this disaster with the warmest eyes imaginable. And so were the other elders!
No, Sect Leader!
Have you changed your profession into a zookeeper or something? How can you look at this sight with that expression!
Wi Lip-san felt as though he might collapse from a fit of frustration first.
"Now, now. Be quiet and listen."
Perhaps sensing his disciples' mood, Hyun Jong calmed them down.
Though really, the only disciples who needed calming were Chung Myung and Baek Cheon.
"The main tournament is said to begin in two days. I hope you all can use that time well…"
Hyun Jong's uneasy gaze turned toward Chung Myung.
Chung Myung blinked innocently back at him.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Oof…"
Hyun Jong let out a long, heavy sigh.
He's doing all the fighting on his own, so I can't even bring myself to scold him.
He would have no greater wish than for Chung Myung to resemble even half of Baek Cheon or Yoon Jong's personalities, but heaven was fair enough not to give one person everything.
Good grief.
Who would've thought a person could feel exasperation and pride at the same time?
Hyun Jong looked at Chung Myung with a complicated expression and said weakly,
"Please."
"Yes?"
"The next two days. Just two days! Surely you won't cause trouble during those two days, will you?"
"That's hurtful, Sect Leader. You make it sound as if I've been causing trouble all this time…"
Hyun Jong gripped the hilt of his sword.
"…You even brought your sword?"
Chung Myung grinned.
"You've probably not even drawn it in ages. Just put it away."
"Oof…"
In the end, Hyun Jong ignored Chung Myung and turned to the other disciples.
"Listen well."
"Yes, Sect Leader!"
"All of you have done wonderfully until now."
Before anyone noticed, his face had already softened into a kindly smile.
"It would be nice if you could get good results in the main tournament as well, but from here on, it won't be as easy as before. The true strength of a prestigious sect is not something to take lightly."
Chung Myung stuck his head out and shoved his face into Hyun Jong's field of vision.
"But we're a prestigious sect too, aren't we?"
"Ho ho. Yes. That's true as well."
Hyun Jong smiled in satisfaction.
"That's right. So there's no need to feel discouraged. Stand tall and show everything you have without regret. The result doesn't matter. What matters is not the result, but what you gain, isn't that so?"
"Yes, Sect Leader!"
Hyun Jong smiled, deeply pleased by his lovable disciples.
Protecting these children is my duty, and Mount Hua's duty.
The seeds Chung Myung had sown would grow into towering trees through this Heavenly Martial Tournament, and one day their branches would spread across the world.
So as their Sect Leader, he had to protect them…
"Everyone, listen carefully to what Sect Leader says and keep it in mind!"
It was Chung Myung speaking.
Hyun Jong was startled by how dutiful that sounded and looked over at him.
Was that child finally growing up…?
"You only get something by winning! Have you ever seen a loser gain anything? Look over there at Baek Sang Sasuk! That's what happens when you lose! Burn it into your heads."
"K-krrk. Guhhrrr…"
"Baek Sang! Get a hold of yourself, Baek Sang!"
"Tsk tsk tsk."
Watching Baek Sang foam at the mouth and collapse in the throes of rage, Chung Myung clicked his tongue.
Then he swept his wild eyes over everyone there.
"We win, no matter what! Got it?!"
"Oh!"
"We'll win!"
"We'll smash their heads in!"
As the Mount Hua disciples cheered, Hyun Jong smiled benevolently.
Listen to a damn thing I say, you worthless brats.
Mount Hua gaining strength before the tournament had already become a foregone conclusion.
But whether that outcome would truly become a blessing for the martial world was something Hyun Jong now felt he would need to think about very seriously.