Cyberpunk in the Heavenly Demon (2)
Myeong-yun strolled down the long marketplace street, piecing together a rough picture of Sleepless City’s current state.
Several factions were dividing the city’s power among themselves. One of the largest was the Namgung Sega. The old Murim Alliance had collapsed, and the Namgung family had absorbed the remnants of the fallen sects, swelling into a colossal conglomerate.
Another was Sarocheon, a loose coalition of unorthodox groups that had grown rapidly through aggressive expansion. Their unity was weak, yet their ferocity surpassed even the Namgung family’s.
Myeong-yun found it oddly amusing that a faction had chosen to include the character for “evil” in its name. What kind of company deliberately branded itself as wicked?
The last major power was the Magy o. The Heavenly Demon God had vanished, leaving only the word “Demon.” The group had become the most brutal, enigmatic, and overwhelmingly powerful force in the city.
“So the Magyo’s lineage still endures.”
Myeong-yun had settled on a simple concept for this stream: the Heavenly Demon awakening from a thousand-year seclusion. It suited the wanderer class perfectly.
Viewers instantly grasped the roleplay and played along enthusiastically.
Myeong-yun glanced at the chat for a moment before turning toward a sudden commotion nearby.
“A fight seems to have broken out. Shall we go watch? The best spectacle is always a good brawl.”
He approached the source of the noise and found two groups facing off. On one side stood three young men; on the other, a larger group of rough-looking men and women radiating open hostility.
“You bastards! Do you even know where you are?!”
“Get lost right now or I’ll kill you all, you sons of bitches!”
The crude shouts echoed through the street. Passersby quickly scattered, sensing the imminent violence.
Myeong-yun settled onto an empty chair at a nearby stall, ready to enjoy the show.
“Hah, you think we came here without knowing this is your territory?”
“Do you truly not understand why we bothered coming to this stinking place?”
The young men also exuded a sharp killing intent. In the tense standoff, only Myeong-yun watched with relaxed interest.
“From what I see, those youths will win. Their aura is refined; they must have trained in polished martial arts.”
“Why not? It sounds entertaining. A true martial artist should understand the arts they witness.”
Myeong-yun waited for the clash, eager to explain the techniques on display. Yet the two sides only glared and snarled, neither willing to strike first.
They looked like barking dogs that had no intention of actually biting.
Finally, Myeong-yun grew bored. He picked up a nearby stone and hurled it straight at the back of one thug’s head.
The struck man whirled around, spotted Myeong-yun, and snarled.
“You threw that rock, you crazy bastard?”
Myeong-yun shook his head and pointed at the three youths. The thug misunderstood completely.
“So you’re with them! You cowardly bastards, setting up an ambush!”
“This is no ambush. What kind of ambush sits openly in plain sight?”
“Enough talk! I’ll show you my martial arts!”
Still furious about the stone, the man charged straight at Myeong-yun.
The fight had begun, albeit not quite as planned. Myeong-yun remained seated, casually dodging the punch before tripping the attacker and pinning his hand underfoot.
“Is this your martial art? You look like a toad, so shall I call it Toad Art?”
“You bastard!”
The man struggled desperately but could not free his hand. Myeong-yun’s strength was overwhelming. Only when Myeong-yun lifted his foot did the thug scramble away, teeth grinding in rage.
“Damn it! I didn’t want to show this to the likes of you, but you leave me no choice!”
A mechanical whirring sound emerged from the man’s chest, followed by a crimson glow. Steam hissed from his prosthetic arm, which flushed red.
“Die—!!”
The glowing prosthetic fist hurtled forward with terrifying force. Myeong-yun rose, kicked a nearby table into the man’s path, and watched it shatter. Yet when the fist punched through the debris, Myeong-yun was no longer there.
Appearing at the man’s side in an instant, Myeong-yun struck upward with an open palm, connecting squarely with the jaw.
“Kuhk—!!”
The thug’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed unconscious.
Myeong-yun clasped his hands behind his back and spoke calmly.
“Fist technique. It emphasizes external arts over internal energy and seems designed for quick, decisive battles. A nameless art fit only for third-rate thugs.”
“It was nothing special. I merely dodged and struck the jaw.”
Myeong-yun left the fallen man and turned to watch the larger battle now raging between the three youths and the remaining thugs. Their movements were far beyond ordinary human limits.
“Look at the youths. Though outnumbered, they protect one another’s backs with perfect coordination. That is the hallmark of orthodox martial arts. Honest and upright—Namgung swordsmanship, perhaps?”
“As for the other side, they are the very definition of a disorganized rabble. Their movements clash and they hinder one another. Not even third-rate black-path fighters.”
Myeong-yun noticed one common detail shared by both sides: whenever they used martial arts, a light glowed from their chests.
“Interesting. Their internal energy seems to gather from the heart rather than the dantian.”
Just as curiosity stirred, a timely informant appeared.
●500,000 won●
OpenSectBeggarOneResolve: In Cyberpunk Murim, all martial arts activate through an “Internal Energy Storage” attached to the heart. After equipping the storage, techniques can be downloaded via the Market system! And yes, you have to pay for information.
The beggar could not resist giving unsolicited advice. Viewers thanked him for the helpful information.
“…Equipping an Internal Energy Storage? So in this era, martial artists no longer cultivate heart methods and instead rely on these storages?”
Myeong-yun was speechless at the grim reality. Martial arts had been created to protect the body, yet this method of use was something he had never imagined. It was a world where true martial studies had effectively disappeared.
“Without learning in the martial path, giving a child a sword is no different.”
For once, Myeong-yun and the viewers were in complete agreement. He had intended only to enjoy the game, but now he felt compelled to teach this world what martial studies truly meant.
Heart-attached storages and downloadable techniques—this should never have been allowed.
The battle between the youths and the thugs was winding down. Blood and oil dripped from the youths’ blades while corpses of third-rate fighters littered the ground. Though the youths employed the upright swordsmanship of the Namgung style, their words revealed the truth.
“Damn those bastards. They dared to reach into Namgung territory.”
“What was their name again? Black Serpent Hall? Snake-like bastards indeed.”
It was nothing more than a struggle over profit and influence. No noble pursuit of justice—only a fight over sweet confections.
One of the youths approached Myeong-yun.
“I don’t know who you are, but thanks to you we finished them off easily. Trash should be cleaned up early.”
“Namgung, is it?”
“Indeed. I am Hyeok Mo of the Former Sword Gate under the Namgung Group.”
Myeong-yun considered how to handle them. Storming the Namgung headquarters immediately would be entertaining, but…
“Your skills are quite impressive. Would you consider joining the Former Sword Gate?”
“…Very well. Let us go. I have grown curious about what the Former Sword Gate is like.”
He decided to learn more about this world first. Destroying everything could wait until later. There was no harm in deciding after seeing everything.
As Hyeok Mo turned to lead the way, he glanced back and remarked offhandedly.
“By the way, your way of addressing people is strangely condescending, isn’t it?”