Law of the Jungle
Why the hell did I do that? Why? That single sentence had been gnawing at me nonstop lately, grumbled over in the back of my mind.
"Great one. No pursuers in sight, so why don't you quench your thirst here in this valley."
Damn chase had been dragging on for two full days now. The sun had set and risen twice, so that tracked. Or not—who gave a shit. But there was one big problem... no city in sight. I'd just bolted blindly without knowing where the hell I was, no map, and this world had to make the land stupidly vast on top of it.
"Aigoo, my legs. The others must've given up, but that faction lord won't quit. What a pain."
"Can't blame him. If that bastard's still on us, your mystical Void Step is our only escape... But great one, you really can't kill him?"
"If I could, would I be in this mess? Use your brain a little."
"But Void Step is a feat only the elite among Flower Realm masters can pull off..."
Of course, the faction lord—son murdered, face lost—wouldn't let me off easy. He'd hired assassins, sicced his martial artists on us from every direction, and personally hounded us with his insane stamina and inner power. Thanks to that, I'd been forced into unwanted flights twice already. And the result...
"Great one. Sorry, but can I check your legs?"
"Why."
"Not that—your pants and shoes are soaked in blood."
My legs were wrecked. Once was fine, but after a few flights and nonstop marching, this happened. Still, I could hobble along; wasn't completely crippled. That was why the lord, initially hesitant after seeing my Void Step, kept up the boring pursuit. He figured he'd catch me eventually, hence the assassins. Case closed.
"Check 'em for what? You gonna pray and heal me with holy magic or something? Weren't you a monk?"
"Ha... With Great Pure Sword Qi, I can't fully heal, but I can reduce the swelling."
"Fine, whatever. I can do it myself."
With that, I flicked out Great Pure Sword Qi from my hand with a pop. Cheong-yong lost his shit, naturally.
"What?! How the hell did you—Great One!!"
"Shut up. My stomach's already churning... Urk."
"But! What do I tell my master... You didn't master Tai Chi Wise Sword too, did you?"
"Relax. It wasn't from your lessons—I just picked it up from sparring 'cause I'm that damn good. Blame yourself for being my opponent. And nah, couldn't copy that Tai Chi Wise Sword thing. Pretty solid technique, though."
We took a breather in the valley, quenching our thirst and easing the swelling, when two small figures appeared. O-ryeong and Yuk-ryeong, the girls I'd just rescued. Their names were lazy as hell—turns out they had four older siblings, so yeah.
"What."
"S-Sis... If your feet hurt, I can... massage them."
"Do that and my feet'll shatter. Go pick some fruit nearby. Gotta fill my stomach or I really won't make it."
"Yes!"
Yuk-ryeong and O-ryeong were spitting images—same face, same height. Twins, probably. Come to think of it, I'd sworn to save them but never bothered learning much beyond names. No time for family chit-chat or daily bullshit.
Soon the sisters returned with a handful of wild berries. I ignored the slave gulping enviously and scarfed them all myself. Tasty. Real tasty.
.........
"You bastards! Stop right there!"
"Yo! Give it up already! You abandoned your whole base just to chase us day and night—what the fuck?!"
"I'll never forgive you! I'll hunt you to the ends of hell!"
The Black Ink Faction lord showed up again. Guy had no shame; he'd pop in whenever he caught his breath to "check on us." If he'd cared for his son half this much, the kid wouldn't be dead.
"You bitch! I'll kill you! I swear it!"
"...Did I say that out loud again?"
"Yes, great one."
Damn mouth of mine. Anyway, we'd seen his ugly mug so often, he was starting to feel familiar. He'd started silent, but now he was foaming at the mouth—gotta love the progression.
"How many more times can you pull that grotesque sorcery? Go on, cripple yourself trying!"
"Was planning to, you dumb fuck! If you'd put half the effort into raising your kid instead of this chase, he wouldn't be dead!"
"Bitch! I'll rip you apart and feed you to the Yangtze's fish!"
Ugh... I was getting tapped out. Should've ended it back when we first met, even if it meant taking a sword to the gut? Not aura, but flesh—External Hard Qi master, so he was barely winded compared to us. And knowing my limit was near, the slave squeezed his eyes shut and yelled.
"I am Cheong-yong, first-generation disciple of the Wudang Sect, personally instructed by Cheong-un Jin-in! So please, faction lord, have mercy on this junior!"
Pathetic, even by his standards, but better than dying. At least he was following his master's words. I perked up too—maybe the useless slave would finally do something.
The lord flinched at the declaration, hesitating briefly. But then his face twisted in rage, and he stomped forward, bellowing.
"Wudang disciple or Cheong-un Jin-in's pupil, you dare spout that crap to my face?!"
"You're insulting Wudang—"
"Wudang gives you the right to block a father's vengeance for his murdered son?!"
The slave shut up. Looked promising, but nah—recharge battery at best, dumbass cart beyond that. Head bowed like he had nothing to say, the lord thumped his chest, spurred on.
"I know why my son died—from reports during the chase! One of those two orphan brats you pamper like gold!"
"Then why the fuck are you bitching when you know?! Mourning's quicker! Your son's corpse is rotting while you chase us!"
"Shut it! What sin did he commit to deserve decapitation?!"
My face went blank. Reports? Then he shouldn't say that. Was this world's ethics different?
The lord wailed, tears flying.
"My son tried to fuck some parentless orphan slut—is that a death sentence?!"
"L-Lord... even so, that's a bit—"
"Shut your monk mouth! Black Ink's young lord dies 'cause some no-name whores spread their legs? Makes sense?!"
Lives weren't equal here. Not in my old world, not in the Central Plains—status systems, noble jobs, lowly races and trades.
"Even if! Even if his life matched those brats'... you shouldn't have killed him."
"Yeah? Keep going. Spill it."
"A man takes a woman on a whim—is that death? Why do so many Central Plains men still breathe?! They should've been beheaded like my son!"
"Uh-huh, good point, lord. What's next on the grievance list?"
He was saying: If raping's a capital crime, why do others thrive?
"Women get fucked and die? If my son's crime was that, you should've let him fuck you back—instead, righteous sect bitch?!"
This was... absurd. I shut up, curious how far he'd go. He'd slowed his pace venting, but this I couldn't ignore.
"Die."
"What?"
"You're dying. Like you said—shit happens, people die. You'll writhe in agony, ignore your rescuers' feelings, and croak."
And above all.
"You ridiculous fuck. You never cared about the countless people you and your son fucked over?"
"What."
"When you crushed the weak, it didn't matter. 'They're weak, so they deserved it— incompetence is sin.' Right? How's it feel now? Blood boiling, nose twitching? Ass clenching, wanna curl up like a baby and whine?"
"You... loose-tongued—"
"Yo. Know what?"
Lord and slave stared. I grinned, elegantly extending pretty fingers in a mountain sign.
"Me too."
"What?"
"Great one?"
Well, yeah. Warriors live by the blade—what grand ideals? "Those who live by blood die by blood"? Nah, blood-livers know better—they avoid it. If forced, they wash hands clean and vanish. Blade-risers die by blade; "live peacefully" is like telling kings "no war, all happy"—bullshit. World won't peace out! Sword-swingers never think they'll lose—cocky bastards! Don't expect common sense or philosophy from killers! I know best!
"We all pretend we won't die by someone else's blade. Why? 'Cause we train hoping it won't happen."
"You."
"If you wanted justice, fairness—don't live like that. Simple: your son died 'cause he was weak. If you wanted no grudges, don't raise him on blood-money. Didn't see it coming? I didn't. Looks like you didn't either."
His face went ashen, then black. The glaring lord spoke calmly—too furious for rage.
"So even if I catch you, fuck you with a hundred beasts, peel your skin and joints, salt 'em, jar 'em—you'd have no words?"
"Nah... you'd do it anyway, right? I'd thank you for not. Love and peace—peace is love."
"Right. Law of the jungle, eh? Heh... spot on. Nothing to say."
...Guys who "keh keh" like that? Never sane. Gonna blow soon. I gripped my throbbing legs, prepping flight.
"Good. Righteous prattlers finally admit jungle law. Heroes, righteousness... All you've got is mommy whoring for nobles... Heroes my ass... keh keh..."
My head tilted. Righteous? Heroes? Good or what?
"Slave."
"Yes."
"What's a hero?"
"A hero's a hero. Righteous... That's all I know."
Hero. Righteous. Justice? Nah, different vibe. Hm. Got it.
"I'm a hero."
"Great one? That's... no."
"Look, slave. I killed a moron trying to rape a kid, then dragged her and her family along—even when I could've ditched 'em, I stubbornly risked my neck. If that's not righteous, what is?"
"Hm..."
"A guy like me, dead-set on saving unrelated brats—if that's not a hero, the world's too cynical. Need a hero license?"
Cheong-yong's eyes lit—enlightened.
"Indeed. You never bent your original intent, even staking your life. Truly upright."
"Right? Hero material?"
"Yes."
Fuckin' hell, the lord thought. Those son-killing bitches hyping each other as heroes? Infuriating. Righteousness? Upright? To a grieving dad, just psycho murderers self-soothing.
Thus.
"I'll kill you all."
"Doubt it."
"First, grab the brats, skin 'em one by—"
I ignored the bullshit. He was tiring, closing in— no flight, we're caught. Didn't wanna hear his babyish whining either.
Boom!
I blasted into the air, slave and kids in arms. Between us and him: jagged mountains blanketed in bizarre boulders. Untouched jungle—he'd lag crossing. Sky's clear; he'd climb trees, dodge rocks, scale hills and slopes, balance and speed all at once.
"I'll kill youuuu!!!"
His fading roar as backdrop, I flew. Another crisis dodged.
Stamina spent, I flopped onto dirt. Getting the hang? Or pain nerves fried? Boiled frog in the pot.
"Great one."
"What."
"Piggyback."
"Ditch me if you change your mind."
"Won't."
I was touched. Gut rumbling, body twitching... Yeah, that kind.
I whispered in the slave's ear.
"Slave."
"Yes."
"Gotta shit."
"..."