Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 38
>Chapter Title: Compulsion
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After pondering deeply, I realized the situation was even more serious than what I'd seen in my nightmare.
The reason was that the obsessive symptoms I was showing weren't about calligraphy, but the martial art itself.
Perfecting a calligraphy style?
While the standard for "perfect" might vary from person to person, everyone usually has an ideal style in mind.
From my modern perspective, it would be one of those standard fonts like Gulim, Batang, or Gungseo that pop up when writing documents.
Of course, crafting something as polished as those computer fonts would require grueling effort.
'But even that is a drop in the bucket compared to martial arts.'
Especially since the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword I was practicing had an absurdly high ceiling.
The Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword consisted of just twenty-two forms. And right now, I had only mastered fourteen of them.
But the few number of forms was precisely what made the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword unique.
Each form was merely a "concept."
For example, the first form, Soul-Stealing Ready Sword, was an offensive-defensive sword technique that attacked the enemy upon drawing the blade or blocked their ambush.
And that concept itself was the Soul-Stealing Ready Sword.
So, whether you drew the sword while stepping back and slashing horizontally, or advanced forward with a thrust, it was still the Soul-Stealing Ready Sword.
The same went for Single Soul Strike and Capturing Spirit Sword, which were thrusting techniques.
Single Soul Strike was a concise, swift thrust, but thrusts could target the opponent's head, feet, heart, and so on.
Even the same thrust varied greatly in minute movements. A thrust at the head above couldn't possibly match one at the feet below.
In other words, the same Single Soul Strike could branch into dozens or hundreds of variations depending on application.
On top of that, Capturing Spirit Sword started from the exact same stance as Single Soul Strike but used feints, making it slower yet able to deviate mid-thrust to exploit gaps.
Thus, the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword didn't enforce rigid paths. It taught concepts for thrusting, slashing, defending, and more, allowing each form to adapt into dozens of stances.
And the real issue was its ultimate goal.
The Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword was a sword art where all forms flowed endlessly, gradually cornering the opponent and stealing their soul.
I had to make those fourteen adaptable forms connect seamlessly, regardless of order.
Considering that, the combinations numbered in the tens of thousands.
And to perfect them all?
'It'd drive anyone insane.'
Maybe it was designed that way on purpose—to trigger this side effect to meet that impossible standard.
By forcing obsessive perfection through mental illness.
But right now, the true essence of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword wasn't the priority.
The problem was that I was practicing it, and my proficiency had risen.
"Hoo."
I had no idea how many hours I'd lost to sword madness, my limbs trembling uncontrollably.
"Are you alright, Young Master?"
Perhaps because I'd finally stopped training, Jin Ha-yeon, who had been watching from the side, spoke up.
"I think I need to rest for today."
"You've made the right choice. It's already past the Hour of the Pig—9 to 11 PM—so for tomorrow's sake, you should stop and rest now."
As she replied, Jin Ha-yeon prepared warm water for bathing.
After receiving her refreshing Pushing Palaces and Passing Meridians treatment and a hot bath, a wave of languid exhaustion surged through my body, worn from swinging the sword in obsession.
My whole body screamed to collapse into bed and pass out.
"......"
But upon entering my room, I hesitated, unable to decide.
Like a dragonfly caught in a spiderweb.
My body yearned for the bed, but my eyes were glued to one spot.
- You should write your journal before sleeping.
- It's your daily routine, right?
- Gotta perfect that handwriting.
It was as if voices whispered from a corner of my mind.
* * *
The next morning, early.
Jin Ha-yeon brought breakfast and asked with her usual stoic face.
"Young Master. Are you alright? You look exhausted."
As she said, I felt like I was dying of fatigue. It must have shown.
"I didn't get enough sleep last night."
I'd tried ignoring the journal and just sleeping. I even managed to force myself onto the bed.
The problem was...
"My mind kept replaying undone tasks, so I couldn't fall asleep."
In the end, I gave up and could only sleep after writing the journal.
It was a horrific experience.
- Damn demonic art.
- I'm dying of exhaustion!! Why am I writing a journal at this hour with this wrecked body?!
- My arms are shaking, the writing looks off!! Fix the handwriting!!
- Just sleep, you lunatic!
Cursing the demonic art's side effects in my journal, which I was writing because of those side effects.
Pure contradiction. Trapped in a dilemma, wrestling with the journal until I barely managed to sleep.
And now, I'd woken after less than two hours.
Jin Ha-yeon listened silently to my complaints, furrowed her smooth brow in thought, then said something unexpected.
"How about asking Officer Gwan?"
"Officer Gwan?"
That referred to Gwan Mu-yeol, one of the two recently assigned as my escorts.
But I had no idea why he came up here.
To my puzzlement, Jin Ha-yeon answered bluntly.
"As far as I know, Officer Gwan practices a demonic art with similar obsessive side effects."
"!!!"
"And his proficiency is higher than yours, so he probably knows ways to manage the side effects."
"What a brilliant idea!"
It felt like a lifeline dropped from the heavens amid collapse.
I hurriedly summoned Gwan Mu-yeol to my room.
"Is something wrong?"
To Gwan Mu-yeol, who asked in a tone as stoic as Jin Ha-yeon's, I briefly explained last night's events and the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword, then asked.
"Miss Jin told me you suffer similar side effects. Is that true?"
"It's a bit different, but yes, I deal with obsessions too."
"Then how do you overcome them?"
At my question, Gwan Mu-yeol furrowed his brow and countered.
"Isn't it thanks to those side effects that we advance in the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword? No need to view it so negatively."
Typical thinking from martial art maniacs.
In truth, he had a point—obsession wasn't entirely bad.
Perfectionism doesn't always evoke negativity. It brought immense stress, but the accomplishment of perfect execution was equally huge.
'Like yesterday's training.'
When I sensed a flaw, I swung obsessively, but it wasn't pure suffering.
The thrill of correction was immense, fueling deeper immersion—though that worsened the obsession.
But I didn't want to live like that. My dream was laid-back indulgence.
Of course, I couldn't voice that dream, so I bullshitted.
"But martial arts are a long game, right? Pushing proficiency overnight by pulling all-nighters leaves you wrecked the next day. You need balance."
Seemingly finding my logic sound, Gwan Mu-yeol pondered before speaking.
"The simplest way is to create a conflicting obsession."
"???"
Seeing my confusion, he elaborated.
"Miss Jin said you were obsessively following a schedule even before the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword's side effects kicked in."
"......"
It seemed natural as a student, but to others, it looked obsessive too.
"So, if you obsess over that schedule, you can stop sword training before breaking your body. The satisfaction of keeping schedule mixes with guilt over stopping, leaving you unsettled but manageable."
He spoke like sharing personal experience.
'Poison against poison, huh.'
Absurd, yet plausible—especially from someone who'd tried it.
I'd gained useful info, but one curiosity remained, so I pressed Gwan Mu-yeol.
"And if that fails? When external factors prevent acting on the obsession?"
As I asked, an example came to mind.
"For instance, last time on the trip to Go Cha-hyeon and Hwa Jeong-hyeon. Master's orders prevented training me due to my 'injury.'"
As soon as I finished, Gwan Mu-yeol's face twisted, recalling it.
I'd thought his prickliness was just personality, but now it seemed obsession-driven.
Specifically, guilt from imperfectly following Master's orders—and blaming me for it.
'Come to think of it, this hits close to home.'
If I were swinging the sword madly from side effects, and someone restrained me?
'...Now, maybe not, but at higher proficiency, I might foam at the mouth in a fit.'
That thought shifted my view of Gwan Mu-yeol.
'He endured that well.'
I'd have dragged them for training or snapped.
I'd never empathized before, but now with obsession, I did.
Stories from modern times: perfectionist CEOs of foreign megacorps acting psychopathic to colleagues.
I'd dismissed them as lunatics, but now I got it—they couldn't endure otherwise.
But I didn't want to become that. So I was even more curious about Gwan Mu-yeol's coping.
When things derailed and guilt drove him mad, how did he handle it?
Meeting my expectant gaze, Gwan Mu-yeol grimaced, pondered long, then cautiously spoke.
"When the guilt is unbearable, I punish myself."
For some reason, his face flushed dreamily as he said it.
"!?"
The creepy sight conjured images.
'I'm a bad boy! Punish me!'—Gwan Mu-yeol shouting, a whip-wielding woman.
'Damn. The cult is the cult.'
He seemed normal, but demonic cultists were demonic.
"And lately... Ah, never mind."
He hesitated, dodging.
"Ahem. There's a recent method I'm trying, but it's unproven, so I'll tell you later."
"...Understood."
It felt like prying into an adult man's forbidden secret, so I dropped it.
* * *
In the end, not super helpful, but the talk with Gwan Mu-yeol yielded something.
'Endure with conflicting obsessions.'
Obsess over the schedule to avoid training to ruin.
Seemed viable.
Of course, temporary—true solutions needed for schedule disruptions, like trips.
'His other method... save as last resort.'
I didn't want such tastes.
Though a beauty beside me would gladly whip and berate on request.
Anyway, after morning lessons and external art training from the verbal and whipping prodigy...
As usual, guests arrived at Wind Rock Hall during break.
Seon-a, Eldest Senior Brother, and Hang-geon—the usual trio.
Then, surprisingly, Third Senior Brother and Gu Yang-moon joined.
"You're alive?"
"Pardon? What do you mean, Young Master?"
I blurted it out, and Gu Yang-moon replied puzzled.
"Ahem. Nothing. But how'd you end up together?"
Dodging my guilt, Third Senior Brother chuckled darkly.
"Heh heh. After hearing from Junior Brother, I visited Young Hero Gu Yang and chatted martial arts. What a fun guy."
"I-Is that so?"
"No matter what I said, he responded positively. Not as masterful as Junior Brother's solutions, but listening eased my mind a bit."
To Third Senior Brother's explanation, Gu Yang-moon laughed heartily.
"Hahaha. How could I match Il-mok? I'm the one seeking your advice! Hahaha."
"Heh heh. Oh yeah, we talked about that too."
Third Senior Brother elbowed Gu Yang-moon darkly laughing; he stiffened awkwardly, then pulled something from his sleeve.
"Ahem. Ha-yeon! Last time with the Young Masters around, I couldn't give it, but from my recent mission..."
"From what I heard, Young Hero Gu Yang got it through great hardship. Take a close look."
Gu Yang-moon awkwardly wooed the icy Jin Ha-yeon, with Third Senior Brother providing backup.
A bizarre scene.
'What is it? Positivity and negativity combo?'
Together, they'd be perfect bipolar disorder.
"If it's so hard-won, Young Hero Gu Yang should use it himself."
Of course, even united, they wouldn't breach Jin Ha-yeon.
The true master of verbal lashings and whips.