The Cave

I was a pretty patient guy.

I could easily ignore it when someone left malicious comments on the food photos I painstakingly cooked and posted on social media every week.

Even when I got hit by a truck in the opposite lane while trying to avoid a kid who darted into the road while I was riding my scooter, I could chalk it up to my own carelessness.

And when I opened my eyes after the accident only to find myself in a Wuxia world I had only ever read about in books, I was bewildered, but I figured, sure, things like this can happen.

But being trapped in this place for years just because I went out to chop some wood? That was absolutely unacceptable. What on earth did I do wrong?

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Screeech!

Before even washing my face, I scratched another tally mark into the stone wall. Then, I began to count the marks carved into the stone one by one.

"...One thousand, four hundred and sixty."

A hollow laugh escaped my lips. Had that much time really passed?

Since I drew one line a day, it meant I had been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trapped in this ridiculous space for four years.

I looked around the massive cavern I was trapped in.

All kinds of neatly cultivated medicinal herbs and crops, a stone bookshelf packed with thick medical texts and scriptures, and a jar of fasting pills—the emergency rations that now made me want to vomit just looking at them. These were the humble furnishings that had kept me company for four years.

But the cavern held an even greater secret. Right above my head.

Instead of a stone ceiling, the top of the cavern opened up to a deep blue, crystal-clear morning sky, but there was no way to reach it.

The stone walls forming the cavern were the problem. To be precise, it was a ridiculously steep cliff that rivaled a skyscraper in height. No matter how desperately I wanted to leave, I wasn't crazy enough to scale a cliff like that with my bare hands and no rope.

Fortunately, I no longer had to worry about whether I should climb the cliff to escape. After painstaking effort, I could finally leave through the official route.

"..."

My gaze drifted and locked onto the boulder blocking the exit. Carved into the massive rock, which easily towered over my height, was a single sentence.

Do not challenge if you are below the Third Stage of the Hundred Medicine Fist Secrets.

I had spent four years staring at those words, dedicating myself to training inside this cavern. And now.

"Whew..."

Standing before the boulder, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. My senses sharpened. My inner qi surged from my dantian, just below my navel, and I could feel the energy circulating through my acupoints and meridians.

Along with it, a power that felt capable of shattering any obstacle in a single blow welled up inside me.

Inhale, exhale... I took another deep breath. I was in peak condition. After enduring for four long years, it was finally time to release it.

Recalling the anger and endless loneliness I felt when I was first trapped in this cavern.

Recalling the straight punches I had thrown hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times.

Recalling the countless spiritual herbs and elixirs that had formed the foundation of my inner qi.

Recalling the culprit who had locked me in this cavern—my master, the Medicine Sage, Yakseon.

Bringing both hands to my hips, I slowly drew my right fist back. Just as the formless qi wrapping around my clenched fist began to shimmer like a heat haze, I roared at the top of my lungs.

"Get the hell out of my way!"

Boom!

As the strike, packed with every ounce of my strength, slammed into the boulder, the massive rock shook violently.

Crack, craaaack! An ominous sound echoed from the boulder as hairline fractures began to spiderweb across its surface.

Yes, crumble! Shatter into a million pieces!

Rumble! Answering the silent scream in my heart, the boulder collapsed. Through the dust, a gap pouring with brilliant light appeared.

"F-Finally...!"

Four long years. After four years, this passage was finally open.

"Ngh..." I crouched down.

"Yeeeeaaaaahhhhh!"

And then I leaped into the air, spreading my arms and legs wide. Crouching down had just been to gather momentum.

"It's finally open! That godforsaken rock is gone! Ehehehehe!"

Tears streamed down my face from sheer joy, and I screamed so loud the cavern shook. Not satisfied with just that, I did three consecutive backflips.

"Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, cousins, everyone! Look at this! I mastered the Third Stage of the Hundred Medicine Fist Secrets in just four years, when it takes others ten! It was me, Yoon Gomyung, the 39th-generation descendant of the Papyeong Yoon clan, who smashed that rock!"

Anyone listening would have thought I was a lunatic babbling to myself, but at this moment, nothing could ruin my mood. If anyone tried, I'd show them a rapid-fire barrage of my Hundred Medicine Fist Secrets like a certain straw-hat-wearing pirate.

There was no one to stop me, and my spirits were sky-high, so I spent the next ten minutes jumping around and dancing like a maniac. Why was I celebrating like a crazy person? Well, I have to explain these four years of sheer injustice.

I recalled the events leading up to my confinement in this cavern.

When I opened my eyes after that absurd traffic accident, I found myself in the Murim. There was no explanation, no system skills, no stat windows. Just a perfectly healthy body and some old-fashioned clothes that felt somewhat familiar.

I spent six months doing everything I could to adapt to this world. With no family ties, no school connections, and no regional networks, the only thing I could do was manual labor. Of course, working as an errand boy at a tavern was an option, but I had read my fair share of martial arts novels and webtoons back in the barracks. Martial artists wrecking taverns was a daily occurrence, and the first ones to die in those brawls were always the tavern boys.

Among the jobs that kept me as far away from martial artists as possible, I chose to be a lumberjack in a mountain valley—essentially a timber production worker. To be honest... the work was brutally hard. But at least the older guys I worked with were real men, which made it bearable.

"There aren't many young fellas like you these days! Everyone's full of hot air, trying to learn some cheap third-class martial arts, looking for an easy way out!"

"Damn right! Our Gomyung made the right choice! Real men chop wood! Woodcutting is for real men!"

"Uh-oh, Gomyung's cup is empty. Alcohol from an elder is medicine, medicine! Hurry up and take a cup!"

"Hehehe. Thank you, sir."

Since I was a young bachelor who had come all the way from the outside, the older men encouraged me with words like those and bought me food and drinks. I worked hard in return. I managed to buy a tiny house at the foot of the mountain and steadily saved up my remaining money. I thought I would live a quiet life without ever getting stabbed by a martial artist, but then I got lost in the forest while cutting wood.

Where on earth am I?

I had never gotten lost around there before, but strangely, I kept walking in circles. To make matters worse, it suddenly started pouring rain. Looking around for shelter, I stumbled upon this godforsaken cave.

What is this place?

Ugh, I should never have gone inside. Deep within the cave, I found a massive cavern where rain fell, along with traces of someone having lived there. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Next to the passage was a large stone chest. The moment I touched it out of curiosity, a loud rumble echoed, and "that boulder" blocked the passage.

Yes, the boulder I just smashed with my Hundred Medicine Fist Secrets was that very rock. No matter how much I searched the cavern, there was no other exit. The only thing of note was the stone chest, which was larger than a bathtub. It was absurd and ridiculous. What kind of terrible luck did I have? Was it even possible to get out of here?

With that thought, the me of four years ago made a decision. I took a deep breath to calm down. First, I needed to figure out where I was and what was around me. When I pushed open the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stone chest, I found medical texts, scriptures, the jar of fasting pills (byeokgokdan) that became my lifeline, and several important items. Three martial arts manuals, and a letter from Yakseon.

The moment I opened the letter neatly placed on top of the chest, I saw an opening greeting that practically screamed trouble. No, it can't be. No way, no way! I tried to deny it with every fiber of my being, but the more I read, the more my face stiffened. Why were my bad feelings always right?

Before I could even finish reading the letter, the me of four years ago screamed.

"Who does this piece of paper think it is, forcing me into closed-door training to inherit martial arts?!"

The contents of the letter were as follows: He was an old physician who once held the legendary title of "Medicine Sage" in the Murim. After fighting a life-or-death duel with a mysterious figure, he had been poisoned and left with a terminal illness. The problem was that the Medicine Sage had no successor or disciple. Not a single one! Shouldn't someone with such a grand title have at least one disciple? Unwilling to let his martial arts and medical knowledge die with him, the Medicine Sage had remodeled his old hideout into a closed-door training ground for his destined successor.

The moment I saw the words "closed-door training," I ran to the boulder blocking the passage. Sure enough, it was carved with a message basically telling me to go back and drink some more of my mother's milk.

At the time, I was devastated.

"Why does the successor have to be me?! The only martial arts I know are from novels!"

I had deliberately lived as a lumberjack in a mountain village just to avoid getting killed by some stray martial artist's blade, so this was driving me absolutely insane. But back then, just like now, there was nothing I could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do about my unfair situation. I couldn't exactly live in this cavern forever just because I didn't want to learn martial arts. I couldn't turn back time, either.

I wanted to smash the martial arts manuals and everything else to pieces, but for now, I had to face reality. Just as the Medicine Sage wished in his letter, I began my martial arts training.

But training was far from easy. Since I was training alone, it felt like banging my head against a brick wall for four years. At one point, I even briefly contemplated whether I should just bash my skull against the ground and end it all. No one would ever know how hard I clung to this martial art, or how many spiritual elixirs I had to consume just to reach the Third Stage.

There was a specific reason why a complete novice like me could endure such a long, lonely period and successfully train in martial arts, but I'll explain that later. In the end, after four years, I did it. Through bone-shattering effort and utilizing the preparations left behind by the Medicine Sage, I had finally broken into the entry level of the Third Stage of the Hundred Medicine Fist Secrets last night.

The proof of my success was the formless fist qi wrapping around my hand and the shattered boulder before me.

"Whew..."

A sigh escaped my lips. I couldn't see my own face since there were no mirrors, but I was sure I had a bittersweet expression. Putting aside my overwhelming joy and slight lingering attachment, I decided to pay my respects first.

"I've been in your debt for a damn long time!"

Quoting a famous line from a certain pirate chef, I bowed deeply toward the memorial tablet in the corner of the cave. I had heard somewhere that a disciple should perform the nine-kowtow bow to their master, but since I didn't know the details, I just bowed twice as we do in Korea. Even though I had been forced to learn martial arts, a master was still a master.

"..." It was finally time to leave the cavern.

After clearing away the debris of the shattered boulder, the light of the outside world beckoned to me.

Chirp, chirp! The singing of unfamiliar birds and a warm breeze tickled my face. Without even pausing to pack my things, I walked out of the passage with a dazed expression.

As I took slow, deliberate steps out of the cave, a wide grin spread across my face. Yes, this was it. Instead of a gloomy cavern surrounded by cold stone, a lush forest welcomed me, its cool and refreshing spring breeze brushing against my cheeks.

"Heh, hehehe...!" Thud.

Like Andy Dufresne escaping from Shawshank, I fell to my knees outside the cave and spread my arms wide.

"I'm alive! I'm alive! I'm alive, you bastards!"

And I cheered at the top of my lungs until my throat went hoarse.

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Cough, cough.

Did I scream too much? My throat was stinging. Well, of course it would, considering I had been wailing like a broken siren. But who cared? I had just escaped after four years!

Having escaped that dreadful cave, I wrapped my belongings in my shirt to make a bundle and headed toward my house for the first time in four years. Inside the bundle were the important things I had gathered from the cavern—like the Medicine Sage's martial arts manuals, medical texts I still needed to study, and some jewelry he had left behind for me to use. As I walked down the mountain path, the bundle clinked and clattered. Anyone seeing me might have mistaken me for a treasure goblin.

Up to that point, my mood was fantastic.

"Bwahaha!"

"This guy is hilarious, seriously."

"How could you not laugh when the tavern boy was bowing like that?"

As I neared my house, I heard human voices. Hearing other people after four years was nice, but a sudden wave of anxiety washed over me. There were no other houses nearby. My house was located halfway up the mountain, meaning you had to walk another ten minutes downhill to reach the village. So why were there voices coming from the direction of my house?

With that unsettling thought, I turned left and headed toward my house.

"...!"

The door was hanging off its hinges, and the wall was half-shattered. The vegetable garden I had worked so hard to cultivate was littered with trash, and the clean white plaster walls were covered in messy graffiti. What on earth had happened to my house?

As I stared at the ruined house in utter shock, a few punks poked their heads out from inside.

"What's with this hobo?"

"The weather's so nice, and now we've got a beggar wandering around. Hey, scram!"

Well, I had been cooped up in a cave for four years, so my hair and beard must have been a wild mess. I could understand them calling me a beggar. But this was unacceptable. Three punks were lounging on my wooden porch, chatting away without even taking off their shoes. One of them even tapped his pipe against the wooden floor to empty it.

Staring blankly at the floor covered in ashes, I was speechless. Sure, it was already covered in dust and footprints, but this was crossing the line. They had gone too far.

Snap. The last thread of my sanity snapped, and the pent-up rage of four years flooded my brain. The lonely cave-dweller who had quietly accepted his misfortune was dead. In his place, the disciple of the Medicine Sage—a man who would no longer hold back—was born.

"Get the hell out of my house, you bastards!"