What the Hell Just Happened? (2)
As if the manual itself were speaking, it posed the question, and Hanbin nodded.
'Of course!'
Beneath the title First Form, the characters Hanbin had absorbed now took their place.
You have acquired the Speed formula from the Basic Section of the Yongrin Sword Art. Your speed increases. It becomes even faster when holding a sword.
Speed
Absorbed formulas are applied immediately.
Confirming the formula, Hanbin unleashed a relentless barrage of punches toward Paeng Mubin.
Thud! Thud!
Hanbin tilted his head, glancing back and forth between the Yongrin Sword Art manual and his own fist.
'I really am faster.'
There wasn't a shred of falsehood in the manual.
Would you like to confirm the formula with Dragon Eye?
Hanbin grinned at the resurfacing message.
This was a sign of respect toward its master.
Hanbin shouted inwardly.
'Don't ask—just confirm it!'
As if understanding his words, the absorbed point in the manual transformed into characters.
You have acquired the Speed formula from the Basic Section of the Yongrin Sword Art.
His fists flew even faster now.
Continuing to throw punches, Hanbin quietly glanced to his left.
Above the floating manual, two identical characters now occupied the space.
Speed, Speed
Why did those two characters feel like tick marks on a scale?
It seemed like more characters would pile up in the future.
Only now did Hanbin understand the inscription about seeking out scattered formulas across the jangho.
Just as a miner extracts gold from a mountain, from now on, Hanbin would mine these formulas.
Even after absorbing every glowing point representing a formula, Hanbin's fists didn't let up, relentlessly targeting Paeng Mubin's face.
Of course, this was pure instinct.
In his past life, he'd never stopped attacking unless the opponent surrendered.
At that moment, someone seized Hanbin's wrist.
Clack.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Hanbin looked at his assailant.
A burly warrior loomed over him, glaring down.
The man finally spoke.
"Young master!"
His voice was sharp as a blade.
"……"
Hanbin stared back in silence.
The man's face rose clearly in his memories.
The warrior was Ak Pilseung.
He was the leader of the Guardian Tiger Trio, Paeng Mubin's personal escorts.
The bastard was a real piece of work.
Whenever Hanbin fell victim to violence disguised as sparring, this guy was always grinning ear to ear.
In a way, he might've enjoyed it even more than his master.
As Hanbin stared daggers at him, Ak Pilseung continued.
"What do you think you're doing right now, young master?!"
The low, oppressive tone pressed down on Hanbin.
Hanbin glanced briefly at Paeng Mubin's condition.
To put it bluntly, he was out cold.
Time to let him go.
There were no more formulas to extract anyway.
Hanbin flashed a grin and met his gaze.
"Squad Leader Ak Pilseung!"
Ak Pilseung flinched for a moment.
There was an inexplicable power in that voice.
Hanbin's voice echoed across the training grounds once more.
"Why aren't you answering me? Squad Leader Ak Pilseung!"
"Yes, young master."
Ak Pilseung grudgingly dipped his head, and Hanbin asked coldly,
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
Ak Pilseung shouted, emotions boiling over, but Hanbin didn't blink.
"Is a mere guard supposed to interfere in a spar between young masters?"
"……"
As Ak Pilseung clenched his teeth in silence, Hanbin pressed on.
"Did I break any sparring rules?"
Ak Pilseung couldn't hold back any longer.
"Our young master is beaten senseless, isn't he?!"
He pointed at the sprawled Paeng Mubin and bellowed.
Hanbin's lips curled into a satisfied smirk.
"Paeng family rules state that a spar ends only when one side surrenders. You know that, right, Squad Leader Ak Pilseung?!"
"But the situation right now……"
"Did Young Master Paeng Mubin declare surrender?"
Of course not.
He was too out cold to even have the chance.
"……"
Ak Pilseung gaped, speechless.
Hanbin's words didn't deviate an inch from family rules.
And he'd referred to his own brother as "Young Master Paeng Mubin." Wasn't that perfectly embodying the family head's command to set brotherhood aside during spars?
'Why does this heartless young master suddenly look just like the family head, who sheds neither blood nor tears?'
Ak Pilseung, who'd meant to pressure Hanbin, found himself cowed instead.
A wave of dizziness hit him.
He needed to extricate himself from this and report to the Enforcement Hall.
Ak Pilseung glanced back and shouted to his men,
"Everyone, move the young master!"
His subordinates rushed over, hoisting Paeng Mubin toward the Medical Hall.
With the situation somewhat contained, Ak Pilseung clasped his hands in a formal salute toward Hanbin.
"Young master, I'll take my leave. And……"
Raising his head, he didn't forget to glare daggers.
"I won't forget this. I'll report exactly what kind of mess you've caused to the family head."
Paeng Hanbin grinned.
"A man who's eaten Paeng family rice for over a decade, and you still don't know my father's temperament? Tsk tsk."
Hanbin clicked his tongue, and Ak Pilseung's face twisted in fury.
Seeing it, Hanbin continued,
"But you're not just leaving like that, are you?"
Ak Pilseung, who'd turned to go, froze.
"……"
He turned back and stared at Hanbin wordlessly.
Hanbin was confident he wouldn't escalate things further—not unless he was insane.
But Hanbin's next words shattered that assumption.
"Kneel!"
Hanbin pointed at the Blue Steel Stone-paved training ground floor.
Ak Pilseung's eyes widened.
"What the……"
His words were cut off by Hanbin's shout.
"For the crime of interrupting a spar between young masters!"
"What are you even talking about, young master?"
Ak Pilseung's sharp tone softened slightly, his eyes bulging.
But Hanbin's expression remained stone-cold as he continued.
"To uphold Paeng family discipline, I'd have to sever your right arm here and now for meddling in a young masters' spar—but considering your past service to our house, I'll commute it to another punishment. Any objections?"
Ak Pilseung turned to stone.
Hanbin stepped forward and snatched the sword from Ak Pilseung's belt.
Shing.
Ak Pilseung couldn't move. It wasn't a gap in martial prowess.
It was a gap in status.
A gap in presence.
Hanbin's motion had been utterly natural.
Pointing Ak Pilseung's own sword at him, Hanbin growled low.
"Kneel!"
Ak Pilseung's body crumpled.
Thud!
Hanbin nodded.
He'd won the battle of wills.
If Ak Pilseung had charged in a rage, Hanbin had no confidence he'd win in his current state.
No teeth? Use your gums!
The old proverb rang true. Sometimes, you needed bluffing, like a pufferfish inflating itself.
This was one of the essential survival skills in the jangho.
This was just the beginning.
It was the first card Hanbin had played in the Paeng family.
Even as the long red sunset trailed across the sky, Hanbin quietly watched Ak Pilseung.
Panting noises still leaked from the man's gritted teeth.
A warrior of his caliber wouldn't suffer physically from kowtowing.
But the humiliation would sting.
As Hanbin lapsed into thought, someone came rushing from behind.
"Young master!"
Turning, he saw Cheolno.
Hanbin gave a small smile at his returning servant.
Cheolno, breathless from his sprint, first checked Hanbin's face.
"You should've just dodged! What if you get hurt like this?"
Cheolno wiped the blood from Hanbin's face with his sleeve.
Of course, it wasn't Hanbin's blood.
Cheolno eyed Hanbin's hand.
"What's this? Not just your face—your knuckles are scraped too. And in a spot you never hurt before……"
Cheolno trailed off, touching the bloody fist, but Hanbin quickly pulled away.
"I'm fine, Cheolno."
"It's too much. Why can't those bastards leave you and me alone? Filthy scum……"
"I said I'm fine."
Hanbin waved his hand and tossed Ak Pilseung's sword to the ground.
Clang.
Cheolno's gaze shifted to Ak Pilseung, still kowtowing.
Cheolno tilted his head.
"Who the hell is that……?"
"Doesn't matter. Come on, Cheolno—I'm starving!"
Hanbin grabbed Cheolno and dragged him along.
Even as he was pulled away, Cheolno wailed,
"Ah, young master, if you keep getting hurt like this, my heart……"
"I told you, I'm fine."
"If I hadn't lost my martial arts, those punks would've been nothing!"
"When did you ever learn martial arts, Cheolno?"
"You didn't know?"
"Sure, let's say that."
Hanbin waved dismissively. Cheolno knew nothing about martial arts—not even the character for it—but he occasionally boasted like this.
As Hanbin and Cheolno walked off, Paeng Mubin's remaining escorts exchanged glances.
One of them spoke up.
"What the hell just happened?"
That sparked a chorus from the rest.
"Third young master—er, our young master—lost?"
"They must've pulled some dirty trick."
"What trick?"
"If we knew, it wouldn't be dirty."
"But seriously, where's the youngest young master even hurt? He doesn't look hit anywhere."
"His knuckles are scraped, they say."
"That's from hitting them. You ever worry about the axe blade when splitting logs?"
"Yeah, that servant Cheolno must've gotten something wrong too."
"Now that you mention it, yeah. Youngest young master seemed a bit off."
"And he saw blood but didn't faint?"
"What's going on?"
A shadow suddenly loomed behind the murmuring warriors, stretched long and grotesque by the sunset.
One noticed the presence and turned.
There stood Ak Pilseung, face red as the dusk, snorting with rage.
Back in his quarters, Hanbin sat across from Cheolno, a steaming teacup before him.
"Don't look at me like that, Cheolno."
"I can't help it—I'm worried. Why'd you go so hard today of all days?"
Cheolno still didn't seem to grasp that Hanbin had won.
Hanbin chuckled softly.
"Even worms writhe when you step on 'em."
"A gentleman's revenge is never too late, even after ten years. Build your strength until then."
"You got that proverb wrong, Cheolno."
"Huh?"
"The real saying is a gentleman gets revenge within ten years."
"Ah, young master."
"Just kidding—don't worry!"
Hanbin chuckled again.
The whole spar had been straightforward.
When Paeng Mubin's men picked on Cheolno, Hanbin stepped in to block them, and the third young master used it as an excuse for a "spar," dunking him in the pond.
Hanbin looked at Cheolno again.
He knew the man had been brought by his mother from her family.
By some stroke of luck, she'd become the family head's third wife, but that luck didn't last.
Hanbin's mother had passed away a few years ago.
With her—who'd held the family head's favor—gone, the sons of the second wife, the second and third young masters, were scheming to drive Hanbin out of the family.
That was the current state of affairs.
Cheolno noticed Hanbin lost in memories and asked,
"Are you missing the late lady?"
"Been years since I thought of her. Can't even picture her face anymore……"
Hanbin gazed up at the sky.
He meant it.
After his past life and regression, memories of his mother were buried deep.
The real issue was what came next.
"Good to hear."
"Cheolno!"
"What is it, young master?"
"From now on, I'll protect you."
This, too, was sincere.
Pitying his subordinates from his past life was enough.
"……"
Cheolno's weathered face lit up with a gleaming smile.