Meeting the Heavenly Demon's Fan (6)
There was no principle or logic to be found anywhere. It produced the same results as martial arts by using inner energy, yet it was not martial arts. It merely replicated martial arts through something else entirely.
‘Hmm. The quantity. The quality. Both are decent. Good. I’ll be taking your achievements for myself.’
Along with the man’s words, my body regained its freedom. Unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I asked the man who looked ready to charge in at any moment.
“What exactly was that technique you just used?”
“Never seen absorption arts before?”
“That was not martial arts.”
The man burst into laughter at my answer.
“If you want to know, make me talk. In the world of martial arts, the strong take everything, don’t they?”
Understood. I’ll get my answer later. I lightly stepped forward and closed the distance. The man tried to react belatedly, but it was already too late. My palm strike reached his jaw before his body could move.
Thud!
The man’s body was sent flying into the air. With no ground to plant his feet, he couldn’t mount a proper defense. I drove the back of my hand into his solar plexus.
“My, your armor is quite sturdy.”
I had intended to shatter both armor and body, yet the armor only cracked slightly while maintaining its shape. Moreover, the moment my hand touched the armor, some of my inner energy was sucked away. So absorption could be performed not only through the hands.
After being slammed into the wall and falling to the ground, the man coughed several times before staggering to his feet.
“You crazy bitch...”
“This seat is called Hwaryeong.”
“Ah. Is that so? And what about it?”
“Shouldn’t one at least know the name of the one who will defeat you?”
The man launched another offensive. His martial arts were bizarre overall. To put it simply, the man had no core. It wasn’t strange for a single martial artist to wield multiple arts. It was common to combine compatible principles for synergistic effects. However, no person could simultaneously practice arts whose principles directly conflicted with their core. Not only would efficiency plummet, but improper use could cause the arts to clash internally and turn the practitioner into a cripple.
As I continued exchanging blows, I understood the nature of the strangeness. He possessed no martial arts of his own. Every technique he used was borrowed from someone else. There was no personal enlightenment within them. This man was executing techniques through the Correction System. That was how such eccentricities were possible.
How utterly foolish. One must devote an entire lifetime just to fully grasp the principles of a single art. Did he truly believe he could comprehend everything while juggling so many? Because he tried to possess far more than his station allowed, he couldn’t properly handle any of them.
My interest waned. The man held no value as an opponent. I was curious about the techniques, but I could simply extract that information from his mouth later. Shall I end this quickly?
I dodged the hand reaching for my arm and drove a fist into the center of his gas mask. The mask shattered, revealing the face beneath. Unlike his solid physique, the man’s face looked haggard, as though his life force was being drained by someone.
“So you mortgaged your life to use martial arts that were never yours.”
Recklessly employing conflicting arts without even properly understanding them—how could his body possibly remain intact? The man was already dying.
“So what. Are you saying I was wrong?”
“Of course.”
It wasn’t morality I was questioning. If someone achieved strength through any means and was satisfied with it, what did it matter? What lay beneath that wasn’t my concern. What I despised were those who, drunk on their own greed, resorted to wicked methods only to regret it and weep at the end. If this man was proud of his actions, I had nothing to say. However—
“It is wrong. To have offered your life for nothing more than that pathetic level of martial arts.”
To have sacrificed his life for such meager achievement. To have strutted about without even realizing he had failed. And now, with his foundation denied, the way his lips were tightly bitten—didn’t it seem pitiable?
“...You sure talk pretty. You crazy bitch.”
“Enough. Return. Playing with you is no fun.”
“Don’t look at me with those eyes.”
His techniques were intriguing, but wouldn’t it be better to ask someone else about them? He looked like a test subject who had been placed on the operating table without knowing anything.
“If you truly wish to challenge me again, bring someone stronger than yourself.”
“I told you not to look at me!”
The man swung his arm wildly, showing no intention of listening. I considered simply subduing him. I had no desire to stain my hands with blood over something so insignificant. I twisted my body to avoid his charge and drove my elbow into the back of his neck. Catching his falling body, I laid him down on the floor. Perhaps I should take him somewhere secluded and extract information. He didn’t seem likely to talk easily, but I was quite accustomed to prying open tightly sealed mouths.
While I was considering suitable methods of torture, a window appeared in the air.
Stage 1 Clear!
The surrounding scenery changed. We were now in the middle of a bustling street, far from the office that the man and I had just destroyed.
“What is this? Why did the location suddenly change?”
It seems subduing the boss triggered the clear condition.
“What does that mean?”
This game doesn’t have very high freedom.
So it was a game that ended once you dealt with the stronger ones after clearing out the small fry. Hah. If that was the case, shouldn’t the final opponent be made stronger? Only then would it be entertaining.
The boss just now was plenty strong though...
“Nonsense. How could a dullard who doesn’t even possess a single martial art of his own be a threatening enemy?”
Even jokes should be told in moderation to be enjoyable. Excess makes them worse than not telling them at all.
“This game. How many bosses like the one I just fought remain?”
Four more left.
“It gets progressively harder, correct?”
Yes. Especially the final boss. It’s really difficult.
Your definition of “difficult” isn’t very trustworthy, but I’ll believe you for now. It took about thirty minutes to clear the office and capture the man. If the other locations were of similar difficulty—
“I suppose I’ll have to finish this within two hours.”
*
The next place the slovenly man guided me to was a certain club. The people inside were all around third-class level, and while their numbers made them troublesome, they posed no real threat. After dealing with those who rushed at me one by one and heading deeper inside, a Peak Realm martial artist came out to greet me. Like the previous man, he wore various pieces of equipment, and his martial arts focused on close-quarters combat using tonfa. At least he wasn’t a pitiful wretch who couldn’t even establish a core like the first man, so fighting him wasn’t entirely uninteresting. Since there was no value in spilling blood, just like before, I subdued him without wasting time.
During this process, I asked about the equipment they used, but no proper answers came. It seemed the man was merely an executor and didn’t know the organization’s detailed affairs. The time taken to clear the second map was twenty-eight minutes and seventeen seconds. Considering I had allocated about thirty minutes per section, it was an appropriate duration.
The next location was a company that looked ordinary from the outside. If the employees working inside hadn’t immediately pulled weapons from under their desks the moment I entered the entrance—as though my information had already been leaked—it would have been ordinary. This place was quite brutal. First, the equipment the employees wore was good. The previous small fry had been practically naked, but the people here at least wore equipment capable of protecting their bodies. The employees used guns as weapons—not the small pistols from before, but rifles. Bullets fired from rifles were much faster and more powerful than those from pistols. That alone was troublesome enough, but occasionally there were those who infused bullets with inner energy before firing. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down even for a moment.
Moreover, their cohesion was excellent. They moved like a single, well-trained army. The way they moved in perfect coordination to harass me revealed that each of them was elite. Thanks to that, I had some trouble. While dealing with them, I incidentally taught Harin how to handle an army.
First, suppress ordinary soldiers with excessive brutality. It’s good to let them hear screams and wails. Mutilating corpses is also acceptable. What matters is provoking the soldiers’ emotions. No matter how well-trained an army is, each individual composing it is ultimately human. Continued stimulation will inevitably create cracks somewhere. Then the commanders will step onto the front lines to mend those cracks. The moment they show their faces, eliminate the commanders and the army becomes useless.
So I have to break through the guards and capture the commander?
The commander who appeared was protected by dozens of soldiers. That level was simple. A skilled martial artist could become a more threatening cavalryman than any horseman. Using one’s own body as a spear to pierce through the center—
Watch. Like this.
I could slit the commander’s throat without even giving him time to resist. I specially demonstrated how to break through using the principle of elegance, so you should be able to follow it, Harin.
Only you can do something like that, Hwaryeong-nim.
Tsk. How can a young one lack such fighting spirit? In any case, after decorating the company’s white bricks with red, the man called the chairman appeared. He was an old man with a white beard, yet his body was robust beyond his age. The rugged muscles that couldn’t be hidden even beneath his suit were the result of his training. He looked more like a martial artist than the previous ones, but he was still just a brat who had reached for wicked arts after being blocked by the wall of Transcendence Realm while trying to surpass Peak Realm. Even if he had obtained an incomparably large amount of inner energy through the power of techniques, how threatening could he be when the user was someone like that?
Just like the previous bosses, there was no value in spilling blood. His shortcomings were so obvious that I simply poked at his weaknesses. The old man endured at first, but before long he tripped over his own feet and fell. Still, the old man possessed a certain pride as a martial artist. He answered my questions, saying that the strong had the right to obtain the answers they desired. Thanks to that, I was able to learn the location of the research facility that manufactured the equipment these people wore.
By the time I finished all of this, the time taken for the third map was thirty-one minutes and forty-nine seconds. The time had dragged because I was dealing with a group.
I think that’s pretty fast though.
Even people doing time attacks take over an hour. Harin spoke as though she was shocked, but I couldn’t empathize. It wasn’t that I was strong—it was that they were weak, wasn’t it?