Chapter 200
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 200
Chapter Title: Peaceful Days (2)
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Lazy Mujin rolled around under the eaves before finally getting up.
His uncle, the family's highest elder, had paid a visit. They say you should at least stand on your tiptoes when an elder shows up.
"That punk Hobup—everyone else is working their asses off, and you've been sleeping this whole time?!"
"Yes, Uncle."
Kang Cheon-myeong felt his blood boiling at Mujin's brazen attitude of sleeping whenever he damn well pleased, regardless of the hour.
Even he, the sect's eldest member, still threw himself into the front lines. Yet here was this young punk lost in idle play. Mujin had stopped his old wastrel ways and seemed to have turned into a decent person, but this level of laziness was beyond excessive.
"Rumors are flying all over the world."
"You won't believe gossip spread by jealous fools, right?"
The rumors had spread so far that Mujin's Fist of Heavenly Fortune was even more famous than Muho's Divine Sword Demon Wanderer. Ask in the next village over, and two out of ten people would have heard it.
"It's tarnishing the sect's reputation because of you. Can't you show a little restraint?"
"The Pine Tiger Sect isn't so weak that it clings to rumors spread by busybodies. Right, Uncle?"
"Your words flow like a mountain stream. But every action of yours reflects on the sect."
"You didn't come here just to spout clichés. What's the real issue?"
"Because of the rumors, challengers are lining up to find you."
They were vultures eyeing the safer Fist of Heavenly Fortune over the Divine Sword Demon Wanderer. They called it a challenge, but their true intent was clear: defeat it and turn their fates around.
Kang Cheon-myeong was more worried about Mujin getting hurt than the growing number of challengers. No matter how useless, it was his blood nephew. How could he not worry?
Mujin was rampaging blindly now, but if this continued, it could turn dangerous.
"Thanks for the concern. I'll sort it out quick."
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Can't keep the challengers waiting."
"This kid... you didn't even listen to a word I said."
"You'll see for yourself."
Mujin went to find the challengers waiting in the guest quarters.
Before that, he told his uncle to bring the elders to the training grounds. Things had reached this point—they might have some inkling, but since they clearly didn't know the full story, he'd have to show them directly.
He lined up the challengers on the training grounds.
Having heard rumors that the Divine Sword Demon Wanderer used sword qi, no one even glanced at his younger brother. Muho had already faced several challenges by now. His fame was swelling by the day, thanks in part to the Beggars' Sect spreading the word.
Mujin put on the arrogant front everyone knew him for.
"Who's up first?"
"I'll do it."
The man was a giant who used fists. He was geared up with greaves and other protective equipment. Scars covered every inch of his body, like a medal from surviving countless battlefields.
"Name's Geum Jeoksan."
"Fist of Heavenly Fortune."
"Impressive title."
"It lives up to the name."
He had made quite a name for himself among ronin with his Solitary Wind Fist. He aimed to boost his reputation this time and earn treatment befitting a top-tier ronin. He'd planned to challenge the Divine Sword Demon Wanderer too, but gave up after seeing his comrade Little Demon get cut down in one strike by that whirlwind.
"No three-move handicap. Coming right at you."
"Bring it."
Geum Jeoksan didn't underestimate him, but he didn't overhype the Fist of Heavenly Fortune either. It was just lucky fame—no real skill behind it, full of doubts. How this guy was still alive after all that gossip was beyond him. True to the name, luck must run deep.
Pa-at!
As Mujin charged straight in, Geum Jeoksan unleashed his Divine Wind Poison Demon Fist's Storm-Rending Heavens. It was a technique that accelerated in bursts, gradually speeding up to land unexpected hits.
Shwoong!
Huh?
The target vanished from where it should have been. The moment he turned to look—
Pak! Kuwek!
Geum Jeoksan took a strike to the nape, breath catching with a gasp as he tumbled forward.
Twitching on the ground, he was still alive. It could have snapped his neck, but the precise control of force was masterful.
"Next."
Mujin, having dropped him in one move, beckoned the remaining seven challengers to come at him one after another.
Thud! Crash!
He felled each one in a single exchange. A pathetic end for these flies who'd come to make a name for themselves.
Kuung!
Great Power Sword Ga Bulseong was a cut above the rest, but even he went down in one hit. They lay there in a row, trembling on the ground. Whenever one fell, disciples dragged them off. Nosebleeds trailed behind, painting a bloody path on the floor.
Ah!
The elders were seeing Mujin fight in person for the first time. They'd heard rumors he'd beaten the Present Music Sword, but his past as a wastrel made it hard to believe.
Even to their eyes, Mujin was strong. The fallen weren't big names, but they weren't weak enough to drop in one hit either.
'He's strong. How?'
'Even with training, when did he get this powerful?'
'Then why are the rumors like that?'
The Pine Tiger Sect elders—Kang Cheon-myeong, Lee Gak, and Jeon Jang-hun—honestly hadn't expected this. They figured he'd trade a few blows at least, since he wasn't completely hopeless.
But no—every single one went down in a single strike.
One after another.
They watched for days. Over thirty had fallen. None understood why they'd lost, fainting in one hit. Some demanded rematches, only to eat another one-shot.
"See? Good enough to slack off now, right?"
"...Even so, slacking off? You call that talk?!"
"Guess we move on then."
"Move on? What the hell are you saying?"
"Kids, close the gates."
The challengers were cleared out, and the training grounds fell quiet. The disciples returned to their posts. Left behind were Muho, Taejin, and Cheolho.
"Uncle, sorry about this."
Muho and the boys sealed the three gates tight. Then he prayed for the elders' souls. They really had no idea. It was time they learned the truth about their brother that only they knew.
As the gates shut, the elders looked baffled.
Mujin flashed a bright smile before them. It meant this would be over quick—no need to worry.
"Uncle, you don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?!"
"Why I can afford to slack off."
"And I need to know that?"
"I've been leaving you elders out of the loop. We all need to get stronger together."
The elders were the family's pillars. He hoped they'd live comfortably. Getting tied down to sect affairs would just add wrinkles.
But thinking it over, they were martial artists too. Not just at squad leader level—they weren't far off from regular disciples in power. Age earned respect, but some disciples were starting to ignore them. Nothing sadder than being mocked as old and skill-less.
"What are you planning?"
"Come at me together."
"You think you can take all three of us at once? A few wins and your ego's piercing the heavens!"
"Come on. You can't even beat the squad leaders these days. Think I don't notice you dodging them?"
The three elders winced at the direct hit. They'd tried, but results were lackluster. They couldn't confidently claim victory over squad leaders. Might as well have given up.
But hearing it from Mujin of all people? Unbearable.
"Here I come."
"You little shit, we've been too soft on you... Hup!"
Lee Gak elder ate a sudden fist and slammed face-first into the ground, trembling. No different from the others who'd been smacked down. Stunned, Jeon Jang-hun took a spinning kick to the face, whirling through the air before rolling across the dirt.
Kerrrr!
Mujin turned with a beaming smile, and Kang Cheon-myeong elder's mind blanked halfway. He hadn't thought it'd be this easy.
Now it was his turn.
"...You brat, I'm your uncle... Hurk!"
Mujin's fist slipped perfectly through his guard into his gut. Kang Cheon-myeong froze, barely lifting his head before the fist filled his view.
Pow!
Crash!
Two hits, and the uncle was down.
Mujin got serious.
It was time the elders stopped living oblivious to the world. As the sect grew, they needed dignity befitting their rank. He'd let it slide before since there was no ambition to expand, but now was different.
Tok!
He tapped the pain and weeping acupoints at once, and the elders sprang up, spry beyond their years.
Still fit as ever.
Gasp!
The three elders, regaining their senses, couldn't believe it. They knew Mujin was strong but hadn't fully accepted it.
They hadn't even traded moves—couldn't block a single one. The skill gap far exceeded expectations. Utter defeat was inevitable.
"Time to reinforce that shaky faith."
"Wait... Hurk!"
Lee Gak, Jeon Jang-hun, and Kang Cheon-myeong snapped to, only to be forced into unwanted naps. One punch each, and consciousness sank.
Tok tok!
Every knockout, Mujin woke them. Martial arts basics: repetition. He executed the pure grind.
"Reinforcing."
"No... Graaah!"
Mid-wake-up, he unleashed Air Grasp. To shatter stubborn elders' fixed mindsets who wouldn't yield to mere beatings. The older they got, the more rigid their beliefs. Shock therapy was essential to fix that old-man stubbornness.
"...No way?"
"That's right, Formless Fist. You've heard of it—let's go easy."
Ten knockouts and wake-ups later, the elders dangled mid-air. Helplessly absorbing Mujin's Formless Fist.
Considering their creaky joints, Mujin loaded his fists with spirit medicine. Absorption rates drop with age, so he forced it in with Formless Fist.
Pow pow pow pow pow pow pow pow pow pow!
Kraaaaaah!
Muho, Taejin, and Cheolho guarding the sealed grounds gulped dryly. No screams escaped—the whole area was shrouded in barrier qi.
'This is all for the elders' sake.'
Muho, Taejin, and Cheolho justified it without asking. Not wrong, really. Trials like this made you insanely strong.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
Mujin diligently tuned his power, pummeling away. Efforts bore fruit bit by bit.
Age slowed the response, though.
The elders came to under morning sun.
Mujin had gone at it for a full six hours straight. Normally, rest every hour, but no breaks. Overtime pay expected.
They trembled with rage.
Countless wake-knockout cycles. The unimaginable agony made them wish for death. What glory in old age? Life's joys and sorrows flashed by like a lantern show.
Sneer!
Flinch!
Mujin felt proud teaching clueless elders how the world worked. He poured effort laced with apology for fooling them so long.
"Feeling refreshed? Or round two?"
"...Refreshed. Never felt this good."
Mention of another round sparked panic. Beaten countless times from yesterday to now. Yet astonishingly, they really did feel refreshed. Should've been bedridden after that, but no.
'Why's my body so light!'
'Qi flow's way smoother.'
'Could this be Pursuing Claw Acupoint!'
A fated encounter they'd never dreamed of in life, granted in old age. Gratitude mixed with vows to never endure it again.
"I'll check your martial arts for a while."
"...No need!"
"Didn't you say no slacking?"
"We get it now—do what you want!"
"Books say a man who draws his fist should beat folks good and proper. Something like that in the Classics."
Like hell that's in the Classics!
Their protests fell on deaf ears. Mujin had made up his mind—they had to follow.