Shaolin or Whatever (1)
"How is Jo Gul?"
"He hasn't regained consciousness yet, but he doesn't seem to be injured."
Baek Cheon frowned.
"He got caught up in something that overwhelming, and you’re saying he wasn’t hurt?"
"There was no killing intent behind it."
After a moment of silence, Baek Cheon slowly nodded.
Then he glanced around.
Inside the hall where Mount Hua was staying, the place that was usually so noisy now lay wrapped in a heavy silence.
They must all be shocked.
Just seeing the rigid faces of the disciples made his own mood sink. But he couldn’t bring himself to blame them.
He had been just as stunned by Hye Yeon's martial prowess.
How can a person be that way?
Of course, he had known Hye Yeon was strong.
A warrior that that brat Chung Myung himself had called a genius among geniuses. So it was only natural that he would be stronger than anyone else.
But what truly shocked Baek Cheon was the absurd precision of those techniques.
Hye Yeon blowing away the pavilion with a single strike wasn’t what surprised him. What was truly astonishing was how he had completely subdued Jo Gul in a fleeting exchange of just a few moves.
The ensuing Hundred-Step Divine Fist was only the finishing touch; the match had already ended before that.
If I wanted to subdue Jo Gul without hurting him, I’d need at least a hundred moves.
But Hye Yeon had rendered Jo Gul completely helpless in only three.
He couldn’t even begin to imagine how strong someone had to be to do that.
When even Baek Cheon’s expression hardened, Baek Sang, who had been sneakily watching everyone’s reactions, spoke up in an unnaturally bright voice.
"Why is everyone acting like this? It’s a good day! Chung Myung and Yu Sago both made it into the semifinals! Getting two people into the semifinals is something no prestigious sect has managed!"
"That’s true."
"Yes. It really is a great achievement, but…"
The replies that came back were anything but bright. Hearing those gloomy voices, Baek Sang frowned.
Just as he was about to say something else—
Bang!
At the sudden noise, Baek Sang snapped his head around.
There was only one person in Mount Hua who could open a door that violently—or rather, kick it open like that.
"Chung Myung!"
Baek Sang lit up as if he had seen a savior and hurried over to him.
"Do something about these people."
"Huh?"
Chung Myung tilted his head.
"Why?"
"I mean…"
Baek Sang let out a sigh.
"That match must have been a shock. The whole place feels dark and miserable."
At that, Chung Myung glanced at the Mount Hua disciples.
All of them tried to smooth their expressions under his gaze, but they couldn’t hide the unease buried underneath.
Huuuuum.
Chung Myung curled the corner of his mouth.
"Still, looks like the chicks have finally started to grow up a little."
"Huh?"
Baek Sang blurted out in genuine shock at the completely unexpected response. The others, who had been holding their breath and waiting for Chung Myung to tear into them, also widened their eyes.
What did he eat wrong?
No, he’s always eaten wrong. That bastard lives on meat and nothing else.
Is he going to suddenly lose his mind and start swinging at us again?
The eyes of those watching Chung Myung all turned at once toward Baek Cheon. Meeting those looks, Baek Cheon flinched.
Why me?
Say something.
Why should I?
Aren’t you the senior brother?
Baek Cheon’s face twisted sharply. So I’m only the senior brother when it suits you, is that it? You little bastards.
"Ahem."
In the end, Baek Cheon gave a low cough and spoke cautiously to Chung Myung.
"Aren’t you angry?"
"Huh? Why would I be?"
"No, I mean… I thought you might start lecturing us for losing our nerve again."
Chung Myung snorted.
"Well. It’s not great to be rattled, but it’s better than being rattled and pretending you’re fine."
"…Huh?"
Being shaken after seeing Hye Yeon’s strength meant they had compared themselves to him.
It might seem natural, but in truth, it was anything but.
In the past, the disciples of Mount Hua hadn’t compared themselves to Hye Yeon—not even to Jin Geum-ryong. No, they hadn’t even dared to.
Why? Because they believed such people lived in a different world from theirs.
If you don’t compare yourself, you don’t fall into despair. And naturally, that would be far easier on the heart.
But now, everyone in Mount Hua was comparing themselves to Hye Yeon and sinking into despair.
Growth begins with truly feeling the distance between yourself and another.
However crushing the gap may be, you had to realize it before you could improve. That was a hundred times better than failing to realize the gap at all.
"Everyone, look at me."
Chung Myung stomped the floor twice.
Those who had already been looking at him stretched their necks even farther. Chung Myung opened his mouth.
"So what exactly are you trying to say?"
"…"
Wasn’t that bastard the one who told them to look at him, and now he was asking them instead?
Baek Cheon shook his head and spoke.
"Just how strong is that Shaolin brat Hye Yeon, anyway?"
"Uuuuum."
Chung Myung scratched his cheek.
How was he supposed to explain this…?
Seeing him hesitate a little, Baek Cheon clicked his tongue and said,
"I’ve seen plenty of guys who were pretty damn strong, but this is the first one who made me feel this hopeless. It doesn’t seem like there’s anything you can do to beat him. No matter how much of a genius he is…"
"Ah. Wait, wait."
Chung Myung cut him off and waved a hand.
"You’re not seriously thinking something stupid like, ‘Well, that guy was born with absurd talent, so no matter how hard we try, we’ll never beat him,’ are you?"
"…"
At that moment, the Mount Hua disciples, suddenly feeling guilty, averted their eyes from Chung Myung.
"…I really am surrounded by idiots."
Chung Myung let out a pained groan and sighed heavily.
"What’s so unbeatable about a genius, anyway?"
"You."
"…I’m the exception."
Chung Myung quickly changed his line after discovering someone he couldn’t beat.
"Anyway! That bald monk is impressive not because his talent is extraordinary."
Then he turned sharply and looked at Yoon Jong.
"Senior Brother!"
"Yes?"
"Why is that bald monk strong?"
"Well…"
Yoon Jong knitted his brows. He knew the answer in general, but pinning it down precisely wasn’t easy.
"His internal energy is monstrous."
"And?"
"And… perfect use of technique. Yes. Perfect technique."
"That’s it."
Chung Myung nodded lightly.
"Talent or whatever aside, the reason he’s strong is because he’s polished those techniques over and over until they’re burned into him. I’d guess that monk has repeated the kind of training you guys have been doing for at least ten years, maybe more."
"…What?"
"The training you guys have been doing."
"…The one with you?"
"Yeah."
The hall fell silent.
So…
He had been doing the training they’d done over the last half year for more than ten years?
"…That’s even more hopeless."
"Is he really a Buddha? No human could do that."
"Isn’t he a lunatic? How is that even possible?"
A chill ran down their spines.
For the past half year, they had endured Chung Myung’s merciless—no, downright brutal—training, and they had done so with everything they had.
Thanks to that, they had managed to achieve solid results even in this tournament, where prestigious sects from all over the world had gathered.
And now that madman had been doing that to himself for over ten years?
"…Then he’d have to be strong."
"At that point even a monkey ought to be able to beat up a tiger."
Everyone nodded emphatically.
If he’d spent ten years doing even half of the training they had done, then it would be strange for him not to be strong. In other words, he had no choice but to be strong.
"Don’t get it twisted."
Chung Myung waved a hand lightly.
"People tend to limit talent to one thing: understanding. Like being able to learn a technique after seeing it once, or having a brain brilliant enough to leap straight into a higher realm. That’s what they call genius."
"…"
"But that’s not even half of it. A real genius is someone who can do things others can’t survive, and do them as if it’s nothing."
Chung Myung’s eyes narrowed.
"So stop whining, you idiots. Other people spend more than ten years doing something, and you think you can catch up in just half a year? Is there even one person here who thought about putting in ten years of training just to surpass Hye Yeon?"
At his words, the atmosphere turned solemn in an instant.
As Chung Myung had said, none of them had ever seriously imagined spending decades in hard training just to catch up to Hye Yeon.
As he looked around at them, a coldness unlike him settled in his eyes.
"Since when did Mount Hua become such an incredible sect? Did you beat up enough so-called heirs of prestigious sects that you started thinking you were hot stuff yourselves?"
"…"
His merciless rebuke pierced straight into the hearts of the Mount Hua disciples.
Some blushed in shame, while others reflected on their own arrogance.
All sorts of thoughts flickered through the disciples’ minds.
"The reason that guy is impressive isn’t anything complicated. It’s that he keeps striving every single day. In other words."
Everyone remained fixed on Chung Myung’s mouth.
"Keep striving. Don’t lose your original purpose. Treat each day like your last. Don’t lose your passion for martial arts. Give it everything you’ve got."
Everything coming out of his mouth was painfully obvious.
"If someone actually does all the obvious things the old masters always preach about, and keeps doing them for ten years, twenty years, that’s what they become. A guy who looks like he walked straight out of a story."
Baek Cheon quietly nodded.
What had shocked them wasn’t Hye Yeon’s monstrous inner power, nor the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts deployed on the basis of that power.
It was one outstretched fist.
One stomp of the foot, and there was something different in it.
Once they understood the secret behind that difference, Hye Yeon seemed even more extraordinary.
"Shaolin has more martial arts than all the other schools in the world combined, and more secret manuals than most great sects have signature techniques. Their arts are overflowing, and their techniques are so plentiful they’re practically rotting on the shelves. So what do you think they do in the first year after entering Shaolin?"
"…No idea."
"Stance training."
"…"
"Those who first enter Shaolin do nothing but hold stance from sunrise to sunset. And once they can endure that, they put weights on themselves and do it again. If they can endure that, they add more weight."
Stance training. It sounded unbelievable.
"After that, they spend another year practicing nothing but straight punches. Until their posture becomes perfect and they can produce a perfect aura. Do you understand what that means?"
Chung Myung spat the words out.
"People look at Shaolin’s flashy techniques and how strong they are. But Shaolin doesn’t get distracted by that. They pursue a solid foundation rather than the flashy stuff right in front of their eyes. Hye Yeon is just the most perfect embodiment of that Shaolin philosophy."
Baek Cheon let out a deep breath.
"…You’re saying we shouldn’t just chase strength, but think about how strength is built."
"At least the junior brother gets it."
Chung Myung clicked his tongue as if he were disappointed in him.
"Don’t despair just because Hye Yeon is strong. That’s hope, if anything. He’s proving right in front of you what happens if you keep walking the path you’re on, isn’t he? You should be happy!"
Little by little, light returned to the eyes of the Mount Hua disciples.
Chung Myung was right.
So if we keep striving, we really can reach that level someday.
What would their plum blossoms look like when that day came?
With a slightly flushed face, Yoon Jong spoke up.
"But, Chung Myung."
"Yeah?"
"What about you? If what you said is true, then you haven’t done training on Hye Yeon’s level either. Does that mean you can’t handle Hye Yeon yourself?"
"What kind of bullshit is that?"
"…Huh?"
Chung Myung puffed out his chest.
"No matter how much that bald monk runs around pretending to be a big deal, he’s still just a monk. How’s some hairless bastard gonna try and beat me? I’ll smash his head in!"
"…"
No, it wasn’t possible.
No matter how they looked at it, that thing wasn’t human.
Everyone clicked their tongues and shook their heads. Then Chung Myung’s face twisted all of a sudden.
"Looks like Shaolin’s little shits are writing the script now. Fine, let them do whatever the hell they want. I’ll swallow the whole thing down."
"…"
Everyone realized all over again exactly what kind of person Chung Myung was.
"Then you’re saying you’ll beat Hye Yeon in the finals?"
"Hmm, who knows."
Chung Myung tilted his head slightly and looked at Yu I-seol.
"Wouldn’t that depend on whether that bastard makes it past Sago first?"
"…"
Everyone’s gaze shifted to Yu I-seol.
It was probably a burdensome situation, but Yu I-seol didn’t even change her expression. She calmly accepted everyone’s eyes.
"You mean Sago can beat him?"
"I don’t know."
"…Then?"
"There’s only one thing I’m sure of."
Chung Myung’s lips curled into a grin.
"He’s probably going to be rattled. It’ll be his first time meeting someone who walked the same path as him."
"…"
"For now, let’s start by knocking that arrogant Shaolin punk down a peg."
Chung Myung smiled brightly.
So you’re just going to toy with them however you like?
He’d done the same thing before, only to get beaten like a dog for it. It seemed he still hadn’t learned anything, and nothing had changed in a hundred years.
If your ancestors failed to teach you properly, I’ll make sure you learn it right this time.
That the world doesn’t move according to the glittering nonsense in your little heads.
A grotesque smile spread across Chung Myung’s face.
Watching him, the Mount Hua disciples shivered before they even realized it.
Something feels bad.
That bastard is definitely plotting something.
The disciples of Mount Hua felt it in their bones: an enormous, shapeless storm cloud was rolling toward Shaolin’s future.