Regret, Ruin, Awakening (1)
“Man… cheon… Rise… Mancheon.”
A voice kept calling my name, slowly pulling my eyes open. Everything around me was pitch black, yet I could see clearly. It felt like I was buried in warm mud. Breathing was no problem. An endless dark space stretched out. Memories flooded back. This was the inner world I’d entered after getting punched in the gut by Uncle Mukgang back then. It felt like just yesterday I was howling like a banshee in agony, but a whole year had already passed. Time flies, huh.
Anyway, drawn by that deep, cool voice calling me insistently, I pushed myself up and looked straight ahead.
“Back with us? Good. Now assume your stance. Prepare to unleash a form.”
There stood a shady guy in a black coat and sunglasses—someone I swore I’d seen somewhere before.
“Uh… who are you, mister?”
I didn’t remember raising any grim uncle like this in my inner world, so I asked warily. The mysterious man gave a wry smile and slowly raised the staff in his hand.
“First time meeting in this form, sure, but not recognizing your partner? That stings a bit.”
Before I could snap that he was talking nonsense, my eyes locked on the staff he’d lifted. It was identical to the one in my hand. No—exactly the same staff. A chill crawled up my spine.
“You’re… no way?”
Normally, this would be absurd, but in the inner world, nothing was impossible. And to my uneasy question, the man flashed a satisfied grin and drove the nail home.
“That’s right. I’m the spirit of the Dog-Beating Stick Technique, Tagujang. Your partner.”
I hurled the staff to the ground with all my might.
Crash!
“Ow?! Partner! What the hell?!”
“If I’d learned swordsmanship, I’d get a hot ego sword girl… Should’ve skipped the stick arts.”
If I’d gone for Cangqiong Wuya Sword Art or Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique, I’d have a cute voice going “Master!”—mental bond, light novel harem route unlocked. Later, she’d pout, “Aiming beyond sword mastery? Isn’t that kinda shameless?” and transform into a real girl for hand-holding dates.
“Haa…”
A sigh escaped me unbidden. Tagujang sighed too at the sound, picked up the fallen staff, and shoved it back at me forcibly.
“Partner, save the otaku fantasies for later and get in stance. I’ll teach you the ultimate technique.”
“…Ultimate technique? But Master said the Dog-Beating Stick Technique’s killing moves are too dangerous—don’t use ’em.”
Yeah. The Dog-Beating Stick Technique looked a tier below fancy orthodox arts—just swinging a stick to beat down dogs—but it actually had ultimate secrets rivaling Nangong’s Emperor Sword Form or Huashan’s Purple Cloud Divine Skill.
…But they were insanely complex. At my level, I couldn’t even attempt them. Even burning congenital true qi—my life force—I’d turn white-haired and drop dead, per Master’s warning. I’d only memorized the basics. My inner energy had grown since childhood, but the final strike depended on form comprehension, not quantity. Impossible for me now. Might as well not exist.
Yet Tagujang just silently offered the staff, ignoring my valid doubts.
“Don’t hesitate, partner. You’re a genius who deceives even heaven. Trust yourself. Unlock your potential.”
Inner world. Sunglasses uncle. Ultimate secret. …Yeah, with those flags up, awakening was the only path left.
I gripped the staff he offered with both hands, assuming stance.
“Stance set. What now?”
“You already know what comes next, partner.”
Aaah—yeah, in this setup, there was only that line to shout.
I drew endless inner energy from my dantian. Released it with world-shaking momentum. Burst my spirit pressure with dignity.
“Ban—!”
…And woke from the damn dream.
“Hae!!!!!!!”
My thunderous morning alarm jolted Namgung Soso, riding in the carriage with me, into wide-eyed shock.
Blink. Blink. Sorry for the sleep-talk outburst, but her hedgehog-curl and big blinking eyes were adorable as hell.
Human bonds are weird—you think you get ’em, then nope.
Dang Mirang refused to admit she’d been poisoned, staying in Baekhwa County to study the tea the late-talent kids drank. Jeon Jong and Do Jun stuck by her.
…They didn’t say it outright, but they clearly wanted zero more ties to Soso, the raid’s trigger.
Anyway, this was Yeoseok County, a village en route from Hubei to Henan. I’d planned to rush to Jegal Family Manor for Jegal Ohae, but while handling a quick probe and thanks from the Dang Family warriors summoned for their injured lady back home…
A messenger confirmed: Ohae and Jegal Yang had left that morning for the Murim Alliance in Henan, for the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament—the day I’d made my one-vs-fifty legend.
Not exactly Three Thousand Miles for Mom, but three thousand for Ohae. What can ya do? Loved ones stay busy. Honestly, too long since I’d seen her. Missed those squishy cheeks—wanna nibble.
Lost in thought, staring out the carriage, festival crowds bustled, delicious smells wafting. Perfect timing—we’d decided with Soso to recuperate a few days here, famed for medicinal baths, en route to the Alliance.
Yeoseok County Medicinal Inn—attached baths and herbal soups jacked the price even for one night. There, Soso and I grabbed a light meal.
“Not cheap. Covering rooms for me and the coachman too. Your Nangong generosity surprises this Sima bro.”
Eloping mid-business left my wallet no-frills, but her booking this nice spot? Grateful.
“You’re my savior and companion, Young Master Sima. Only natural.”
Still drawing lines, polite as ever—but a hint of warmth crept in. I wanted sword lessons ASAP, but folks warm at their pace. No rush. Key: keep showing I wanna get close, while respecting her space. If she’s wary, match her distance, ease in slow.
As I naturally refilled her empty teacup, lost in that… a kid who’d just entered pointed at my staff by the table—specifically mine—and yelled.
“Mom! Look—look—staff! Lame Jeoseokcheon!!”
“…Huh? Jeoseokcheon?”
“Must’ve loved the festival play. Sorry.”
I bowed apology, watching the mom scoop up her excited kid and leave. Lame made sense, but tacked-on Jeoseokcheon? No clue.
Soso tilted her head too, puzzled like me. Then a woman in eye-catching actor garb—from the inn corner, eyeing us—approached with friendly cheer.
“Welcome to the joyous Jeoseokcheon Festival! Need a kind guide to answer your questions?”
Villagers loved popping up for chats, it seemed. Harmless fun, so I nodded. (Borrowed guide fee from Soso. Not broke, but as her master-figure, save for extra sweets when meeting Ohae. Sorry, Nangong sis. Filial piety later.)
Jeoseokcheon. Leader of the Eight Legions’ Heaven Division, chief of the Twelve Deva Guardians watching the world from above. Fittingly epic domain: thunder god wielding lightning. Weapon master commanding all arms. Protector deity safeguarding humanity.
…But with women? Third-rate. Total psycho.
“Wait—seducing his daughter right in front of her awake dad?”
The guide beamed, proudly reciting the mad tale.
“Yep! Jeoseokcheon fell for Asura King’s daughter Saji. Wooed her with sweet words, right before her father’s eyes. Amazing, right?”
“You’re serious? That sarcasm?”
Earlier, kids hyped from the play, waving vajra replicas—Jeoseokcheon’s symbol—seemed wholesome…
“Jeoseokcheon vajra! Jeoseokcheon vajra!!”
“Jeoseokcheon’s a god!!”
“Mom! I wanna be Jeoseokcheon when I grow up!!”
…Now? Cult frenzy fallout.
“Protector god seducing a girl, bit of incest? Myths need a generous eye.”
Anyway, nearing the play stage, crowds thickened. And I got why the kid called me “Lame Jeoseokcheon.”
The actor in ornate mask playing Jeoseokcheon gripped a staff, limping dramatically on one leg.
“Thunder god and weapon lord—how’d he end up lame?”
Valid question. Even the fanatic guide chuckled helplessly.
“Coming down from heaven to save someone, slipped and fell, local legend says.”