What the Hell Are You Talking About? I’m the Strongest! (1)
"Ugh…."
The moment he came to, searing pain surged through him. Baek Cheon groaned as though his skull were splitting open and forced his eyes open at last.
How long was I unconscious?
He had no sense of time. It felt like ages had passed, and yet as if he had only just opened his eyes. But the dark sky that greeted him told him, thankfully, that he hadn’t been sprawled out for more than half a day.
"Grrr…."
Turning his head a little, he spotted Yu I-seol some distance away, moving her sword in slow, measured strokes.
Seems like not much time has passed.
Of course, someone lost in a state of oblivion could fail to return to reality for a day, even three or four, so he couldn’t really judge the passage of time just by looking at her.
Just as Baek Cheon braced himself on the ground and struggled to his feet, a voice—familiar if you knew it, unfamiliar if you didn’t—reached his ears.
"You up?"
"……."
His head snapped around.
Chung Myung was in view, crouched with a wooden sword slung over one shoulder.
Flinch.
Before his head could even catch up, Baek Cheon’s body spasmed and jerked backward in alarm.
"You’re jumpy."
Chung Myung grinned.
Baek Cheon stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before letting out a soft, resigned sigh.
I lost.
No—more than that, the word lost didn’t even begin to cover it.
The fight from a moment ago was so one-sided it was almost embarrassing to call it a match at all. He still couldn’t understand how something like that had happened, but whatever the process, the conclusion was clear.
He had been utterly defeated.
Baek Cheon raised a hand and pressed at his throbbing head. The spot Chung Myung had smashed still rang like a bell.
But this wasn’t the time to nurse his pride. The brat who had just flattened him was staring back with those round, alert eyes.
"Can I ask one thing?"
"Ask away."
"……How are you that strong?"
"Oh?"
Chung Myung looked at him as though hearing something new.
Interesting.
Most people who went through something this absurd refused to accept reality. Even when it had plainly happened in front of their own eyes, they’d howl that they couldn’t believe it, that they wouldn’t accept it, and rage like madmen.
Especially those with strong pride; most of them would never admit defeat until someone shoved a fist down their throat.
But Baek Cheon, who looked like he lived and breathed pride, was accepting the situation quickly.
That alone was a point in his favor, but…
"I’m not strong. It’s just that you’re weak, Sasuk."
"Me?"
"Yep."
The skin around Baek Cheon’s eyes twitched.
"I’m weak?"
"Yep."
Baek Cheon staggered to his feet. Then he glared at Chung Myung with murderous eyes.
"Don’t underestimate me. I am Baek Cheon—the Great Disciple of the Baek generation, the best of Mount Hua, and one day the man who will become Mount Hua’s Sect Leader and lead the sect forward."
"Yeah, that’s right."
Chung Myung nodded easily. There was nothing incorrect in what Baek Cheon had just said.
Only one thing—
"But that’s not proof you aren’t weak, is it?"
"……."
Just as Baek Cheon was about to argue, Chung Myung lifted a finger and pointed at him.
"A frog in a well."
"……."
"That’s exactly what you are, Sasuk. A well—one so narrow no other frogs even bother thinking about climbing into it. And inside that well, there’s a frog puffing itself up as if it were the whole world."
Baek Cheon’s face twisted horribly.
"You’re calling me a frog?"
"Yep."
"Me?"
Chung Myung gave a snort at his repeated protest.
"Hey, Sasuk."
"……."
"You already know Mount Hua has fallen, don’t you?"
"……Of course."
The words fallen might have been harsh, but he couldn’t deny that the sect had declined.
And it was Baek Cheon’s role to revive that fallen Mount Hua. That was what he had believed all this time.
"But that’s why I’ve been trying. To somehow restore Mount Hua…."
"You?"
Chung Myung looked at him in disbelief.
"When?"
"……."
At Chung Myung’s reaction, Baek Cheon was left momentarily speechless himself.
"From what I’ve seen, that doesn’t look like trying at all. You lock yourself away with the kids and play house, then on the way back you drink your fill, and now that this Hwajong Jihoe thing is almost here, you’re still just bullying your martial nephews. That’s effort? Effort, my ass?"
Baek Cheon shut his mouth.
He didn’t think he had lacked effort. But when it came to the things Chung Myung had pointed out, he had nothing to say.
"Sasuk, I don’t think you actually know what effort is. Doing whatever you want and then calling the leftover time effort? That’s not effort. Effort is cutting back on what you want to do so you can do what needs doing."
"……."
"You didn’t work hard. You just wanted to reign like a king in a tiny little kingdom called Mount Hua. No real competition, no senior barking at you from above. It was comfortable, wasn’t it?"
Baek Cheon bit down hard on his lip.
"No, no. Don’t make that face. I’m not insulting you for the sake of it. But if you wanted to reject being compared to others and live like a king in your little pond, then at the very least you shouldn’t call that effort. And you should stop fooling yourself into thinking you’re strong."
Chung Myung said it with a lazy shrug.
"Have you ever fought anyone properly?"
"……."
"At most, probably Zhongnan, right? Sasuk, Zhongnan may be treated like the grim reaper around here, but across the Jianghu as a whole, even Zhongnan barely makes it into the top ten. Other major disciples from the Nine Sects and One Gang are out there practically flying through the sky, and you think you’re strong because you can run a little? Strong? You, Sasuk?"
Open mockery was written plainly across Chung Myung’s face.
"Don’t get it twisted, you frog. I’m not the strong one. You are the weak one."
In Baek Cheon’s mind, a massive alarm bell rang.
I’m weak?
He didn’t want to admit it.
But if he really thought about it, not a single word of Chung Myung’s was wrong.
Mount Hua was still struggling against just one Zhongnan. Even if he did shine at this Hwajong Jihoe and somehow managed to beat Zhongnan, there were still plenty of sects in the world stronger than Zhongnan.
"……Then there are plenty of people in other sects who are stronger than you?"
"What the hell are you talking about? I’m the strongest!"
"……."
You’re contradicting yourself, damn it!
"What I’m saying is that you losing to me isn’t because I’m especially strong. Right now, you couldn’t beat Zhongnan either. Naturally, there’s no way you can compare yourself to disciples from Shaolin, Wudang, or Namgung—places where genius just rolls around on the floor."
Baek Cheon clenched his jaw.
But Chung Myung showed no mercy as he hurled a stone straight into Baek Cheon’s chest.
"So even if it weren’t me, knocking you flat wouldn’t be all that hard. You understand?"
He understood.
He just didn’t want to.
Who in this world would truly want to understand the words, You’re nothing but one grain of sand among countless others?
But instead of pushing back, Baek Cheon ground his teeth.
"I know that much."
"……."
"You think a Mount Hua disciple wouldn’t know something like that? I know it. I do. But there’s nothing else for it, is there? Unless I’m a disciple of Wudang or Namgung, all I can do is work with what I have!"
"I’m saying you haven’t even done that much, idiot."
Chung Myung added flatly,
"You didn’t work hard enough, and the direction you worked in was wrong too. You think just because you work hard, you automatically become a master? Then go hit a scarecrow over there instead. Beat one for five hundred years and maybe you’ll be able to use Sword Gang."
Chung Myung had a way of saying the same thing that made people want to punch him in the face.
Baek Cheon’s expression had soured to the point of being ugly.
"Then you’re saying you know the right direction?"
"At least better than you do, Sasuk."
Chung Myung flashed a grin.
At that answer, Baek Cheon let out a low sigh.
What a goblin.
He was impossible to understand. How could he be that strong, that shameless, that calm? By Baek Cheon’s standards, it made no sense at all.
So he has to be arrogant.
To Chung Myung, the Baek generation probably just looked like a bunch of no-talents strutting around because of their seniority.
If the roles were reversed, Baek Cheon would probably have been even worse than Chung Myung, not better.
One thing was certain.
Chung Myung was far stronger than Baek Cheon had imagined. He didn’t know what sort of monster this was, but Chung Myung might even be stronger than the Un generation.
If Baek Cheon sparred with Un Am or Un Geom, they wouldn’t just shove him around helplessly the way Chung Myung had just done.
After a brief silence, Baek Cheon looked at Chung Myung with hard resolve in his eyes.
"Then you’re saying you can make me strong?"
"Oh?"
Chung Myung narrowed his eyes at the question.
This guy really is strange.
His pride was absurdly strong, yet he still recognized reality properly. Usually, if one part of a person was twisted, the other part would twist with it.
So to put it bluntly, this Sasuk knew exactly where he stood and still insisted on his pride.
As a human being, that was awful.
But as a martial artist, it wasn’t bad. After all, martial artists lived on the belief that they themselves were the strongest—or that they would become the strongest.
"Of course I can."
Baek Cheon quietly nodded.
"Then…."
He brought both hands forward and cupped them in a proper martial salute.
"Huh?"
Then he spoke in a voice more serious than Chung Myung had ever heard from him.
"Then make me strong. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do."
"……."
Baek Cheon lifted his head slightly.
"If it means I can become strong, I won’t even mind learning from a martial nephew. If the relationship between Sasuk and martial nephew is an issue, I won’t treat you like one. If you want me to treat you like an elder brother, I’ll do that too…."
"Nope."
"As my master… huh?"
Chung Myung answered with perfect indifference.
"I said no."
"……Why?"
Baek Cheon’s eyes wavered.
No—hadn’t all this talk been to show him the way in the first place?
"Why should I? That sounds annoying."
"……."
"And you seem to be misunderstanding something, Sasuk."
"Huh?"
"We’re not done yet."
Chung Myung stood. Then he lifted the wooden sword and twirled it casually in his hand.
"Human beings have such a funny habit, you know. They don’t even think about what they’ve done, then settle on some half-baked compromise by themselves. Like, Well, I guess that’s enough punishment."
"……."
"Yeah. Sure. You’ve paid the price. Bulling the third-generation disciples and acting like an old fossil? Fine, that’s been repaid plenty. But!"
Chung Myung’s eyes blazed.
"My anger doesn’t end there!"
No, you lunatic.
Baek Cheon recoiled in alarm.
But Chung Myung wore a vicious smile, almost like a grim reaper, and strolled toward him at an unhurried pace.
"You still haven’t accepted it, have you?"
"No. I have! I already accepted it enough!"
"No, no. You still haven’t fully understood. Right now you’re definitely still wondering how the hell all this happened."
Why are you the one deciding my mental state?
I said I accepted it!
"Don’t worry. The night is long. I’ll make sure you understand by the end of today—why you’re weak, why your sword is wrong. And…."
Chung Myung’s eyes glinted ominously.
"Why you should never lay a finger on me."
"……."
"Heeheehee! Here I gooo!"
"Eeeek!"
Unfortunately, the scream that rang out from Nagan Peak never reached Mount Hua’s main sect.
Unfortunately, that was how it was.
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