If You Lose to Those Bastards, You’re Dead. (3)
The interior of Qingmei Hall, Mount Hua’s guest quarters, was filled with a strangely charged atmosphere.
Jin Geum-ryong, seated in the chair at the center, narrowed his eyes and muttered, “This is displeasing.”
He had just finished eating.
The neatly arranged dining hall and the mouthwatering dishes had been perfect for filling a stomach hollowed out by the climb up the mountain.
And yet that very fact was what grated on Jin Geum-ryong’s nerves.
“Did they strike gold or something?”
Mount Hua was supposed to be inferior to Southern Edge in every respect.
He knew very well that Mount Hua’s wealth could not even begin to compare to Southern Edge’s. And yet the fact that the gap had narrowed so much only made him feel utterly disgusted.
Zong Shaohan glanced at his expression, then gave an awkward smile.
Jin Geum-ryong was usually an exceptionally mild man. But if anyone judged his nature by that alone, they would certainly come to grief.
The Jin Geum-ryong Zong Shaohan knew was like the sea.
The sea was usually calm, embracing everything, but when angered it became a vicious storm and swallowed all things whole. Jin Geum-ryong was exactly the same. Most of the time he was exceedingly gentle, but when he became angry, he was more frightening than anyone in Southern Edge.
Zong Shaohan spoke carefully, with an uneasy smile. “It is true that Mount Hua has grown quite arrogant, Senior Brother.”
“Hm.”
“But in the end, what matters is martial strength, is it not? No matter how brilliantly they dress up the surface, no matter how silk-clad and well-fed they are, if their martial arts cannot support them, they’re still just a pretty-looking dogfruit.”
“True enough.”
Jin Geum-ryong rose slowly from his seat.
Then he looked over the gathered senior and junior disciples.
“One thing!”
His voice boomed through the room.
“What I want is complete victory!”
Everyone held their breath.
“Prestige, wealth, martial arts—nothing short of absolute, overwhelming victory will do. Anything less is meaningless. If there is even one point in which we can be compared to the already-fallen Mount Hua, then that is Southern Edge’s shame. We cannot be dragged down by a place like this. Have you forgotten? In our generation, we must make Southern Edge the greatest sect under heaven.”
Determined resolve lit the eyes of the second-generation disciples of Southern Edge.
“Pull yourselves together. The sight of you all loosed and relaxed as if on some vacation is making me furious. Do not forget why we are here. Anyone who cannot show the bearing of a disciple of Southern Edge will not be forgiven by me, long before the elders get their hands on you!”
“We’ll keep it in mind, Senior Brother!”
“We will never let our guard down.”
Clap, clap, clap, clap.
Then the door swung open wide.
And Sama Seung entered, applauding as he came.
“Splendid.”
“Greetings, Elder!”
Everyone rose and cupped their fists in salute, and Sama Seung nodded with a broad smile.
“You’ve spared me the trouble of saying it myself, Geum-ryong.”
“I am ashamed. If I had known you were on your way, I would never have said such things.”
“No, no. It was more than fitting. A disciple of Southern Edge should, of course, possess such a mind.”
Lowering his hand, Sama Seung let a faint smile settle on his face.
“And more than that.”
“Yes, Elder.”
“This Hwajong Jihoe must not end with mere victory. We must make it so they can no longer even dare to put Southern Edge’s name in their mouths. Do you understand what I mean?”
Jin Geum-ryong narrowed his eyes. “You mean?”
“A martial contest is a contest of skill. Not harming one another is the foundation. Is that not so?”
After a brief moment of thought, Jin Geum-ryong smiled.
“Elder.”
“Hm?”
“The Mount Hua disciples are extremely sharp in spirit. They do not seem like the same people they once were.”
“Hmm?”
At the sudden weak-minded tone in Jin Geum-ryong’s voice, Sama Seung’s expression hardened slightly. But the look softened again at the next words.
“The foundation of a martial contest is that neither side should harm the other. But their spirit is sharper than expected, so there is a limit to how much we can hold back. In order to avoid being injured ourselves, it may come to the point where one of their arms or legs must be broken. Would that be acceptable?”
“Oh dear. That would indeed be a problem.”
Sama Seung pressed a hand to his chin as if considering it.
“No, no. That won’t do. That won’t do at all. However important the martial contest may be, if our children are hurt, then it loses all meaning. You must ensure this contest ends with as little injury as possible. Even if….”
Sama Seung’s lips curled into a sly smile as he continued.
“Even if you must injure them.”
As though that was all he needed to hear, Jin Geum-ryong smiled and nodded.
“I’ll keep the younger disciples in line and make sure nothing goes wrong.”
“Hmm, good.”
Sama Seung smiled as he looked at Jin Geum-ryong.
With just one child like this, there was nothing left to worry about in the world. When Jin Geum-ryong eventually became sect leader and took the helm, a new golden age of Southern Edge would begin.
Of course, he was already fulfilling that role more than sufficiently now.
“Geum-ryong.”
“Yes, Elder.”
“I’ll leave everything else to you. But there is one thing I want to ask of you.”
“Please instruct me.”
“Do not let that arrogant bastard go unpunished.”
“……”
One face rose in Jin Geum-ryong’s mind. The other disciples were surely thinking of the same person. There was only one person in Mount Hua who could be paired with arrogance and make perfect sense.
“You mean that child called Chung Myung?”
“That’s right.”
Jin Geum-ryong smiled.
“Do not worry. I’ll make sure to correct his manners properly.”
“You’re underestimating him a little.”
“……Yes?”
Startled by his own reflexive reply and realizing his rudeness, Jin Geum-ryong hurriedly bowed his head.
“That child has already made major contributions to Mount Hua at the Galaxy Merchant Guild. Everyone knows that.”
“Yes.”
While everyone answered energetically, Yi Song-baek alone could not bring himself to speak and kept his head bowed low. Every time the Galaxy Merchant Guild was mentioned, he shrank inwardly; he could not help it.
Sama Seung gave him a brief glance before continuing.
“From what I can see, Mount Hua places considerable trust in that child. And yet he has such a personality. Do you know what that means?”
“This disciple is too dull to guess.”
“The world is a place where those with ability rise to the top. But at times, it is also a place where those without ability ride a wave of momentum and create absurd achievements. I believe that if that child grows like this, he may become a major threat to Southern Edge.”
Jin Geum-ryong frowned.
“To that extent?”
“If I may be so bold, isn’t he still just a child?”
“Exactly.”
“……”
Sama Seung growled, “A child not even past his twenties stood before me and spouted whatever he pleased. What do you think will happen if that brat grows up?”
“……Hmm.”
“One of two things. Either he grows too far, or he is destroyed.”
“Wouldn’t the possibility of destruction be much higher?”
“I cannot accept the possibility that that child might grow and raise Mount Hua up again. So the bud must be cut off before it can bloom.”
“I understand what the Elder is saying.”
Jin Geum-ryong turned his head.
“Woo-ryang.”
“Yes, Martial Uncle!”
From behind, Seon Woo-ryang rushed forward at once.
“You heard the Elder’s words, yes?”
“Of course, Martial Uncle. Don’t worry. I’ll thoroughly crush that insolent mouth so he can never wag it again.”
“That won’t be enough. Make sure he can never rise again. Make him regret for the rest of his life that he ever dared stand against Southern Edge.”
“Yes! Martial Uncle!”
Jin Geum-ryong nodded.
Seon Woo-ryang was called the greatest talent among Southern Edge’s third-generation disciples. He was not especially old among the third generation, but in sheer skill, he was the best.
Especially since that skill had only begun to emerge after the previous Hwajong Jihoe, Mount Hua would not even know what kind of person Seon Woo-ryang was.
He was the perfect hand to deal with Chung Myung.
Smiling, Jin Geum-ryong turned back to Sama Seung.
“Everything will unfold exactly as the Elder desires. I’ll make sure of it.”
Sama Seung nodded with a satisfied expression.
“I trust you.”
He was utterly reliable.
These were children Southern Edge had raised with every ounce of its effort. Sama Seung had no doubt that all the years of labor would open the road to Southern Edge’s golden age through these very children.
And this Hwajong Jihoe would be the announcement of that beginning.
We’ll trample them thoroughly.
Cold killing intent flickered in Sama Seung’s eyes.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“……Are we really doing this?”
“My heart feels like it’s going to burst.”
“I’ve been to the privy twelve times today.”
“Ah, gross.”
The third-generation disciples could not sleep even late into the night.
Tomorrow, the Hwajong Jihoe would begin. Until now, merely enduring training had been so exhausting they had barely had the strength to think about anything else, let alone the martial contest.
But once they were given a day off to conserve their energy, all sorts of useless thoughts took over their heads.
“Will we really be okay?”
“He said Chung Myung would handle it.”
“Yeah, but he’s never actually fought those Southern Edge guys, has he?”
“That’s true, but….”
Yoon Jong let out a deep sigh.
He knew his junior brothers were anxious, but he could not find a single word that would truly calm them.
I’m the one who’s about to go crazy with nerves.
His heart kept pounding.
When he turned his head and looked to the side, even Jo Gul—of all people—looked plainly tense. So it was only natural that, with dawn approaching, no one could sleep and they all ended up gathered here instead.
Yoon Jong scratched his head twice and spoke.
“Where’s Chung Myung?”
“Sleeping.”
“……Does that bastard have a heart of iron?”
No nerves at all? None?
Tomorrow was the Hwajong Jihoe, for heaven’s sake. No—today, should he say? Since midnight had already passed.
Just thinking about it made his chest pound.
“He’s been asleep since a while ago.”
“I saw him sprawled out flat on his back. He was even snoring.”
“……I’m both jealous and convinced he’s insane.”
Probably both.
Just as Yoon Jong was about to speak again, a lazy voice came drifting down.
“It’s not that I’ve got a big heart. It’s that you lot have hearts the size of beans.”
All heads turned at once toward the stairs.
Chung Myung was coming down with a listless expression.
“What are you all doing, gathered together like that and not sleeping at this hour?”
“I-I’m nervous.”
“Nervooous?”
Chung Myung tilted his head.
Here we go again. That bastard!
What’s he going to nag us about this time?
What else. He’ll tell us we’re dead if we lose again. What a vicious bastard!
But what came out of Chung Myung’s mouth was a little different from what they expected.
“Why are you nervous?”
“……Huh?”
“Isn’t nervousness what happens when someone hasn’t prepared enough?”
Yoon Jong answered for them. “No, it’s not that. It’s just that we might not show a good side of ourselves tomorrow….”
“Senior Brother.”
“Yes?”
“If we turned the clock back ten days, is there anything more Senior Brother could have done?”
“……”
No, there wasn’t. In fact, just thinking about it made his stomach turn sour. To have to go through this insanity all over again for ten whole days was enough to make him want to vomit.
“A person who has done everything they can has no reason to feel nervous. Right now, you seniors aren’t nervous. You just don’t trust yourselves. But that’s a stupid way to think too. If you’re weak, then accept yourself as weak. What matters is whether you truly gave it your all. Did you seniors give it your all?”
“……Yes.”
That much, he could say without hesitation. They truly had given everything they had.
“Then that’s enough.”
Chung Myung snapped his fingers.
“No matter what anyone else says, I’ll recognize that you seniors did your best. So stop wasting time on pointless nonsense and go to sleep. Getting enough rest the night before and keeping your body in top shape is a skill too. It’s effort too.”
Everyone nodded.
“Then go up.”
“……Where are you going?”
“I’m going to train.”
“Today is the Hwajong Jihoe.”
“So what? That’s supposed to be some big deal or something? Training matters about ten times more than that crap.”
With that, Chung Myung opened the door and walked out.
Everyone let out low sighs.
“That guy really is….”
“He’s going to train.”
Watching Chung Myung keep up his usual routine even on the day of the Hwajong Jihoe, all the worries they had been chewing over until now suddenly felt stupid.
“All right, all right.”
Yoon Jong lowered his voice.
“Chung Myung’s right. If you want to answer confidently that you gave it your all to the very end, then you should even make the effort to go to sleep.”
“Yes, Senior Brother.”
Perhaps because they all felt the same way, everyone obediently stood up.
Yoon Jong watched as one by one his junior brothers headed back to their rooms, then lightly turned his head and looked toward the door Chung Myung had gone through.
That guy’s weird, no matter how you look at it.
With just those few words, he had untied the knot in the hearts of those who had been unable to sleep until this very dawn.
Whatever the outcome of the Hwajong Jihoe, so long as Chung Myung was here, the third-generation disciples would grow stronger and stronger.
Yoon Jong was certain of that.
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