The Three Calamities Heart Method

Most of the story reached Kim Hui-seong in heavily abridged form.

It wrapped up somewhere around the part where Seo-woo — that is, Raven — had left.

The abrupt ending left Hui-seong with questions.

"So why did Raven leave?"

"…He said he hates the military."

"Pardon?"

"Said he'd already done his time, so he wasn't interested. Anyway, he's just a regular guy who happens to be decent with a blade. By the time I got there, whatever came through the rift was already gone."

Thinking about Seo-woo sent a fresh wave of irritation through her.

That bastard… not a single call this whole time…

A faint flush had risen in her cheeks.

Kim Hui-seong still had more he wanted to ask, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he didn't press any further.

"So you're bringing him in because of his sword work?"

Hee-su swept her red hair back over one shoulder.

Her crimson lips moved, barely parting.

Whatever she said was too quiet to catch.

"Sorry? What was that?"

"…I just want to see that bastard grovel in front of me once. No other reason. Drop it."

Hui-seong gave a peculiar little smile and quietly nodded.

"Ah — when you head out on the next op, keep an eye out for a sword. Not sure if you'll find one, but if not, grab a few machetes at least."

"A sword?"

"Yeah. A real one. Not a practice blade."

"Understood. I'll see what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I can dig up. Actually, I think I already know where something like that might be. Oh — and why did you hand over the department store?"

"Huh? Y-you saw that?"

"Yes. Didn't you used to enjoy the sushi there from time to time? The clothes, too…"

Hee-su let out a short snort of laughter.

"…Close-quarters combat wears me out too. And you've never been there, have you? It's pretty dangerous. I don't go much myself~"

If he had any conscience at all, he wouldn't hoard the supplies there all to himself.

Hee-su had pointed Raven toward one of the department stores inside a rift she visited now and then. Use it when you need it, she'd told him.

Red Fox Lee Hee-su and that pretty-boy adjutant of hers headed back.

Hee-su and I had spent a few months together not that long ago, so we were on fairly friendly terms — or something like it. But the guy I'd met for the first time today left a vaguely unsettling impression I couldn't quite shake.

Apparently I'd been thinking about her more often than I realized.

They say women have sharper instincts than men.

"Master?"

"Hm? What is it?"

Mao Mei spoke up quietly as she worked a dumpling wrapper. Dumplings again for dinner tonight?

"Are you thinking about that vixen from earlier?"

What?

How did she know?

When I'd first opened my eyes after returning from the Murim world, the person I'd seen was Red Fox Hee-su.

We hadn't spent that much time together, but the fact remained that she'd helped me in all sorts of ways. Honestly, I'd even considered staying put the way she wanted.

But I couldn't. The reason being…

"…This is a first."

"Huh? Wh-what is?"

"Is there something even Master is afraid of?"

"…There is."

Mao Mei spooned finely minced pork into a dumpling skin.

"What are you afraid of?"

She looked like she genuinely couldn't imagine what that might be. Today her eyes seemed even bigger than usual — the expression she got when curiosity struck, or when she needed something.

"…Right now, I'm afraid of you. And of Uncle."

"……"

Neither Mao Mei nor Uncle Kim, who was wiping down glasses nearby, said a word.

What I feared was loss.

I had lost more than twenty years of life in South Korea.

I had lost the ten years I'd barely managed to build in the Central Plains after finally adapting.

Every one of those losses had come from relationships. Even now, loss kept me from taking a single step forward.

Just like the Sword Qi I still couldn't raise. Still — it was time I started looking for it again.

Tap.

Mao Mei set a tray of finished dumplings down in front of me.

"…Please just help me make more dumplings."

Her face hovered just shy of my chest, looking up at me the way she always did. Today her eyes looked especially clear.

Pat.

Without thinking, I stroked her hair.

Normally she would have bristled and swatted my hand away, but today, for whatever reason, she stayed still.

This kid had become something I was afraid of.

Gwang-sik's crew led people out toward the rift. Some of them might not make it back.

As long as they stuck to moving cargo the way they were told, most of them would probably survive.

A full rift reclamation would have gotten most of them killed, but this job was on the safer side.

Still, people who'd scraped by in poverty for over three years had a habit of losing their minds the moment they laid eyes on a warehouse stacked with supplies — and then accidents happened.

What was I supposed to do about it?

They weren't my people anyway. They'd figure it out themselves.

A few days passed like that.

Our shelter stayed quiet. Every so often a zombie or two wandered in, shuffled around, and got its head cut off on the spot.

Lately I didn't even have to do the cutting. Everyone else handled it just fine on their own.

Gwang-sik seemed to have decided to make an example of the people who'd refused the funeral rites last time, because he'd dragged every last one of them along on this rift job. Fortunately, our shelter didn't lose anyone this round. Whether that was good discipline or a bit of consideration from Hee-su, I couldn't say.

Of course, the other shelters had their share of accidents.

Either way, the residents no longer spent their days hiding in the back.

"Nobody here today. All out at the farm, I guess? Well — you've got to eat somehow."

With no customers, Uncle Kim smacked his lips and set about cleaning the pub. He never used to bother, but these days Mao Mei's nagging had worn him down enough that he did it himself. And me? I still had a conscience, so I'd been making only a moderate mess lately.

So what did I do with my time?

Mostly I woke up, hauled water from the giant cistern, grabbed a machete, and walked the perimeter clearing out anything that looked like a threat.

Person or zombie — didn't matter.

At night I grabbed my prized disciple Mao Mei and forcibly dragged Uncle Kim — who always tried to bolt, claiming he didn't want to train — into practice.

I'd been training them — drilling them, really — for over two months now.

Uncle had shed a lot of weight. Mao Mei, on the other hand, had put some on.

Hmm…

Had I been overfeeding her? She'd gotten a little plump, but you couldn't put a body that was nothing but skin and bones through hard training. And just in case, I'd started teaching them breathing techniques too.

"S-so this is… a heart method? I never imagined something I'd only read about in martial arts novels actually existed."

Mao Mei looked up at me with open admiration.

"Master! What's the name of this heart method?"

A name?

It didn't have one. It was just the breathing method my master had taught me back when I was with the escort agency. He'd mostly gone on about the Three Calamities this and that, so maybe it was something like the Three Calamities Heart Method?

But saying that out loud felt a little embarrassing.

Come to think of it, I'd already made up a name as a joke once.

"…W-well… it's the, uh, Purple Cloud Divine Art. Hahaha."

"Purple Cloud Divine Art? Of course. Isn't that Mount Hua's secret divine technique? So it really existed."

Why did she know that? I suddenly had the uneasy feeling someone was about to come at me with the Plum Blossom Thirty-Six Forms, so I hastily corrected myself.

"…N-no, not that. Something similar. Purple Cloud Heart Method. I misspoke."

"Ah, I see. I'd like to form a dantian the way Master has."

Form a dantian? As if that came easy.

It had taken me well over five years to form mine.

Mao Mei would probably need a good ten. She'd quit long before that, though. Not just anyone could do it.

Anyway, I taught the two of them how to circulate their energy, then used active guidance to walk them through the process myself.

In martial arts novels, you just memorize a formula and start stacking inner power — but that's pure narrative convenience.

Who actually learns inner power and martial ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠arts from reading a book?

If that worked, why would anyone bother taking disciples and spending ten or twenty years teaching them? Just print a pile of manuals and sell them.

There was a formula, sure, but the truth was I never really understood it even after memorizing it. My body remembered and followed along — that was closer to the real story.

Still, just in case, I'd made both of them memorize the formula.

Once you actually formed a dantian, circulating energy while reciting it did improve efficiency.

"…Look here, Raven?"

"Even you're calling me by that alias, Uncle? Just use my name."

"Ah, no. Everyone else calls you Raven, so I should too. Anyway — that formula you taught us? I can't quite make sense of this part."

Uncle Kim had turned out surprisingly enthusiastic about inner power training.

My theory was that at least during these hours he didn't have to roll around on the ground.

But he couldn't make sense of it? What was I supposed to do? I didn't understand it either.

"Uncle? Which part? The Conception and Governing vessels section? Ahh~ our Conception and Governing meridians aren't open yet, so that part won't do anything. We need to focus on forming the lower dantian first."

Mao Mei cut in out of nowhere. Was that it?

Uncle Kim looked like he'd just had a revelation.

Why was he the one having revelations?

Time kept moving. Both Uncle Kim and Mao Mei had been training for two months now, claiming they were going to form dantians. Around now was when they should have been ready to throw in the towel.

Stubbornness was a talent too. Not just anyone could do what I did.

And looking back on it now — I was a modern person, wasn't I? So forming a dantian in five years was actually an incredible gift. Before the rifts opened and all these strange psychics showed up, what was there?

Inner power, supernatural abilities — all of it was just stuff from novels, right? And yet I'd been someone who actually pulled it off.

"M-Master!!!"

Bang.

First thing in the morning, Mao Mei burst into the place where I was showering, her face flushed bright red.

"…Could you close the door?"

"…As expected, Master is truly…"

Her gaze was pointed distinctly downward.

"Get out!"

I roughly towelled off and stepped outside to find her waiting for me, face even redder, eyes sparkling.

"Haa. What? What's going on? The Three Calami— ahem, the Purple Cloud Heart Method is hard, right? You don't have to keep at it. It's not something that comes eas—"

"N-no! I've finally formed a dantian!"

What?

A dantian?

In just two months?

I'd heard of women having phantom pregnancies, but a phantom dantian? Come on.

Incredulous, I gently took her wrist and pushed a thread of inner force into her. If a dantian had actually formed, there'd be a response.

Thrum.

Huh?

Small, but unmistakably solid — a dantian. And the faintest beginnings of newly accumulated inner power, flowing from her.

My mind went blank for a second.

What?

Had I really been that talentless? Was that why my master told me to study mountain logistics and settle for being a chief steward? Because I had no gift?

And Mao Mei? Ah!! Right!! This was one of those geniuses you only ever heard about. A once-in-a-generation prodigy. Born with some monstrous martial talent?

Some kind of extraordinary constitution! That was it, wasn't it?

Well, if that was the case, there was nothing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to be done about it.

Bang.

Uncle Kim came barreling in, his face equally flushed.

Ah? Don't tell me—

"Ra-Raven! I-I can feel a dantian! I've finally formed one. Hahahaha!"

"Kyaa! You too, Uncle?! I did it too! Kyaaaaa!"

The two of them were so thrilled they looked ready to throw their arms around each other and start dancing.

I see!

Looking at it now — maybe the talent was in my teaching?

"…Maybe I should open an academy."

Munch munch.

Chomp chomp chomp.

Sluuuurp!

Ahhh!

In the food court of the department store sitting inside the rift zone, freshly fried chicken still radiated warmth, steam rising off the pieces.

Hisssss.

Crimson energy swirled in from every direction.

A force similar to demonic qi. Even an Awakener would run into trouble after prolonged exposure.

In the Murim world, they called this kind of thing a heart demon.

"…Every time I come here, I'm reminded how vicious this energy is."

But the Purple Cloud Heart Method my master had passed down — originally the Three Calamities Heart Method — was a slow technique that gathered exceptionally pure inner force. Thanks to it, the rift's energy didn't touch me.

If anything, even without deliberately circulating my energy, I could feel my inner force quietly settling and refining itself.

"Would've been nice to bring Uncle Kim and Mao along for a meal. Guess I'll pack a few pieces to go."

I left the frozen-in-time restaurant corner of the department store and gathered a few daily necessities.

"…Damn. Why are there so many kinds of cosmetics?"

After some deliberation, I stuffed every women's cosmetic I could carry from the counter into my bag.

Mao would figure out what to do with them.

Uncle Kim would be fine with plain lotion, right?

"Hmm. Hee-su's present will have to wait till next time."

Sssssss.

Massive snakes began to pour in.

Anaconda-sized things, spewing thick clouds of potent venomous mist.

"These bastards again? Ha."

Dual axes today.

There was a reason Hee-su had handed this place over. Just how many demonic beasts were packed in here?

I launched myself at the swarming mass.