The Genius Martial Artist Who Remembers Everything - Chapter 227: Tomorrow's Fortune (2)
The scholar stared at the sword tile gamblers with eyes that screamed utter disbelief.
"...No way. It was definitely... definitely a seven-in-nine probability..."
Muttering something incomprehensible, he began rummaging through the other sword tiles one by one.
I quickly sent a transmission to Ilmyeong.
-Jump into my arms.
-Huh?
-Don't you want your Diamond Bead back?
-Ah, no!
Ilmyeong shouted with an excited face.
"J-Jin! Amazing! You really won!"
The bald senior put on an awkward act and leaped toward me like he was embracing me. I grabbed his collar and flung him onto the table.
"Tch, why the hell are you jumping at me like some creep."
As I brushed off my hands, the table shattered, and the silver and gold coins piled on it scattered across the floor.
The gamblers watching from around stealthily extended their feet to hide coins under their soles.
Even as the money he'd won vanished bit by bit, the scholar still couldn't move.
"I'll be taking this back."
I picked up the Diamond Bead and Black Dragon Sword from the floor. Only then did the scholar finally raise his head.
"...You really beat those odds?"
"As you can see."
"Then... you must be a man of incredible luck."
Luck, huh...
Well, if I had good luck, would I have ended up in the Small Justice Squad?
The Small Justice Squad was the unluckiest unit even within the White Wolf Pavilion.
Not to mention, whenever I drew fortunes without playing dirty, I always got the worst hand imaginable.
"Yeah, you could say that."
If creating your own luck counts as luck, anyway.
Yeah, I guess I'm pretty lucky.
I glanced sideways. The gamblers who'd surrounded us were slinking away one by one.
Hmm, looks like everyone made a tidy profit...
The scholar had lost more than half his winnings—didn't he care?
"How about pocketing your money first?"
The scholar looked at the gold and silver coins scattered at his feet, then kicked them away like they were nothing.
The gamblers, who'd been watching, now openly lunged like a pack of hyenas with greed in their eyes.
The scholar gazed vacantly at the scene and said,
"What I wanted wasn't something like this."
"..."
"It was fun, anyway. I thought my fortune was the best. Who knew someone with even better luck would show up..."
He looked at me with a complex, subtle gaze.
"I guess that's why the Black Flame Dragon's name echoes through the land."
Puzzled, I asked him,
"You flipped it in one round, but overall win rate-wise, yours was higher. No need to feel down, right?"
The scholar shook his head.
"If you can't win at the decisive moment, all the previous victories are meaningless. Just like today's match..."
A shadow briefly crossed his face, but he soon smiled warmly and clasped his hands in respect.
"Come to think of it, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Gun Yuhyeon of the Heavenly Crown Sect."
"Jin Sowoon of the Tae-eul Gate."
"If fate brings us together again, let's have another thrilling match."
He'd attended the Four Black Union's opening ceremony, so he was definitely from the unorthodox paths, but he didn't feel like he fit in at all.
"Oh, right, do you know about this?"
"...Huh?"
"The Five Heavenly Kings Tile. In fortunes, it signifies great luck, but..."
He pressed his toe firmly on one of the tiles on the floor, then smiled brightly.
"It can also mean the exact opposite—the end of all things. Quite contradictory, isn't it?"
With that, Gun Yuhyeon turned and walked away.
Damn.
That snarky tone confirms he's unorthodox alright.
No normal person would throw themselves into the black path martial world willingly.
# On the way back to the lodgings.
I kept searching my memory for anything on Gun Yuhyeon.
A guy with unusual talent who knew himself well. And that attitude toward money.
'Not your average thug.'
But even scouring my mental library turned up nothing on him.
The Heavenly Crown Sect was a name I'd never heard before either.
"Ilmyeong senior, ever heard of the Heavenly Crown Sect?"
I turned, locking eyes with Ilmyeong, who was rubbing his cheek against the Diamond Bead with a goofy grin.
"..."
What the hell, you look like a damn puppy.
Ilmyeong cleared his throat awkwardly a couple times, looking sheepish himself.
"Ahem... Well, with this poor monk's limited knowledge, I'm afraid not."
"...I see."
"Since the Black Path Night Raid incident, many black path sects have been emerging from hiding. Probably one of those."
"Hmm..."
True, the black path martial world was definitely bigger in this life than my previous one.
It was a welcome change that history was shifting, but more villains popping up—could I really call that a good thing?
"More importantly, Jin..."
I turned back to Ilmyeong at his call.
"How did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"That last round."
"Huh?"
Ilmyeong let out a small sigh.
"Jin, embarrassing as it is, this monk knows the rules of sword tiles too. That last match was clearly Gun's win."
"Guess I just got luckier."
"With... just a seven-in-nine chance?"
"No victory is ever ten-out-of-ten, right?"
Ilmyeong sighed deeply, exasperated.
"Then you must possess luck beyond mortal limits."
Come to think of it, the things in my sleeve were getting annoying, so I pulled them out.
"Huh?"
Ilmyeong's face twisted comically.
"Jin, isn't that... sword tiles?"
I shrugged innocently.
"Oh yeah, somehow these ended up in my sleeve."
"What???"
Ilmyeong tilted his head in confusion.
I explained casually, like it was no big deal.
"When that guy next to me bumped me. When I got up and sat back down, my sleeve felt heavy. Pretty lucky, huh?"
"So... you cheated?"
"Hehey! Cheating? I told you, it was luck."
Why are you grabbing at a good guy like this?
I said it was luck, didn't I?
Of course, it was luck I made myself, but luck's still luck.
Then, a sigh came from Dang Seohee beside me.
"So you're the truly scary one? Now I can't trust anyone."
Hehey, you guys...
I swear it was real luck!
# After that first-day chaos, nothing much happened.
Dang Seohee seemed pretty shocked by the day's events and didn't go out suggesting anything else.
Ilmyeong started wall-gazing meditation, saying he needed to focus on training instead of proselytizing.
With a drunk Ak Byeongbi chugging booze non-stop beside you, you want to meditate?
"You bastard... hic. Definitely a spy... hic... yeah."
Ak Byeongbi interrogated me the whole time he was drunk.
It was no real interrogation—just ridiculous nonsense—but hearing the same crap for three straight days was driving me insane.
"Hic, hic... definitely a spy... hic. Spy... hic."
Did he get into the Inspection Hall because he's this persistent? Or did the Hall make him that way?
I ignored Ak Byeongbi and sat next to Ilmyeong for meditation, studying the martial art I'd gotten from the gambler.
The gambler's secret sect technique pursued one thing above all.
Cunning deceit.
Developing a martial art just to cheat people was impressive in its own way.
Of course, using it mostly for gambling was utterly absurd.
Cunning Charm Divine Art.
Even thinking about it again, what a ridiculous name. Beautiful scam? Who names something like that unless they're insane?
Anyway, I slowly recalled the Cunning Charm Divine Art he'd taught me.
'First form: One Head in Hand.'
A pea-sized energy formed in my palm.
It turned red, then green, and finally black.
The technique the gambler used to make and vanish the pea.
'Second form: Pine River Four Revolutions.'
Two Go stone-sized energies appeared and swapped colors.
He'd used it to cheat Go against nobles, apparently. He even warned me his wrist nearly got cut off using it.
'Third form: Flower Illuminates the Moon.'
The Go stone-sized energy scattered and vanished without a trace.
Then.
"Ahem... my eyes feel so dry."
Suddenly, Ilmyeong next to me broke his meditation and rubbed his eyes.
The third form, Flower Illuminates the Moon, had dried out his eyes.
'Haa...'
A deep sense of self-loathing hit me as I stopped.
What I needed was understanding how to infuse color into that pea.
Like Blood Battle's voice, or how the gambler infused color.
If I could infuse will, maybe I could unleash Mutual Destruction Fist.
The pea's color changed freely in my hand.
Whenever I visualized, the energy shifted hues—it was amazing.
But once it left my hand, the color wouldn't change.
No matter how I tried, it stayed fixed or just vanished.
The Cunning Charm Divine Art the gambler had been reluctant to teach wasn't the key to Mutual Destruction Fist after all.
"Tricky."
"...What's so tricky?"
"Huh?"
Ilmyeong, rubbing his eyes, clasped his hands toward me.
"My energy and nature's energy aren't opposites. Recognizing they're not separate energies is the first step."
"Does Buddhism teach this?"
"Not exactly the same, but similar. Namely... Divine Power from a Hundred Paces."
"Ah!"
Divine Power from a Hundred Paces subdued foes in all eight directions from a hundred paces away.
Didn't it transform internal energy separated from the self?
In a way, the closest form to Mutual Destruction Fist.
Ilmyeong continued.
"The first step of Divine Power from a Hundred Paces is merging your energy with nature's."
"I know the theory."
"Of course. But knowing in theory and feeling it are different. Only when you truly feel nature's energy piercing your body do you truly know."
His explanation hit the core, but I tilted my head.
"But isn't this a Shaolin secret? You sure it's okay to teach me?"
Ilmyeong, eyes bloodshot, smiled faintly.
"Consider it payment for retrieving my Diamond Bead."
"Hmm... then I'll accept without burden."
No reason to refuse when he's offering.
And I did find his treasure, right?
"How do I make nature's energy pierce me?"
"Not hard. Wall-gaze for a hundred days and nights, survive on water and salt to purge fire energy, then..."
With that calm face, how do you say something so terrifying...
"Wait, wait! Give me a training method humans can actually do."
Ilmyeong looked puzzled in return.
"Isn't it doable for anyone?"
Don't they teach common sense at Shaolin?
# The opening festival entered its seventh day, and the Four Black Union grounds were packed like every black path martial artist under heaven had shown up.
On the fifth day—four days into my interrogation hell, right before I lost my mind—we finally got the union leader's summons.
On the way to the leader's office.
The grounds crawled with three times more black pathers than when we'd arrived, drinking and gambling everywhere.
Ak Byeongbi, eyes red from hangover, muttered softly,
"All the world's vermin in one place."
Old man, you're here to make a pact, remember?
With that attitude, what do you plan to do?
Ilmyeong said to Ak Byeongbi,
"If this pact fails, rivers of blood will flow through the martial world."
"Humiliating, but no choice."
At least he knew what mattered. Ak Byeongbi straightened his robes and walked on.
Our delegation followed in his wake.
The servant led us to a massive audience hall.
At the center sat current union leader Chaseokdu on an iron throne, flanked by infamous black path villains lining both sides.
I glanced at Ak Byeongbi.
'Must be itching to arrest them all.'
For him, it was a buffet of prey gathered in one spot.
But as delegation leader, he kept his face stone-cold.
"I'm Ak Byeongbi, envoy leader of the Murim Alliance. May the Four Black Union prosper eternally."
"Welcome. Must've been a tough journey. Grateful you came. Comfortable stay?"
"A bit uncomfortable, but bearable."
"..."
We and Ilmyeong sighed softly at Ak Byeongbi's thorny words.
But the leader wasn't one to back down.
"Hmm... makes sense. Hypocrites fuss over useless formalities, right? Natural for honest folk like us to feel out of place."
"...Enduring it."
The barbed exchange hung tense for a moment, then Ak Byeongbi looked to Ilmyeong.
Ilmyeong stepped forward with the scrolls in both hands.
"A congratulatory message from Jegal Somyeong, the Murim Alliance's chief strategist."
Chaseokdu stroked his chin.
"That's no longer true. Now there's the world's greatest alliance: the Four Black Union."
"We'll see about that."
The fierce aura clash silenced the hall.
After a brief stillness,
The leader nodded once.
"Anyway, since you brought it, I'll read it."
The scroll passed from Ilmyeong's hands via servant to Chaseokdu.
As Chaseokdu unrolled and read,
I subtly scanned the notables inside.
'Black Wind Room, Nine Dragon Room, Blood Tiger Sect, Evil Dragon Sect, Demonic Path Sect, Blood Sword Sect, Yellow Sand Sect...'
All the top black path powers—the Five Sects, Eight Rooms, One Peak—were present.
Then I eyed the man to Chaseokdu's left, Hwang Busik, and the one to his right.
'That guy's...?'
His attire wasn't martial. But his sharp features rang a bell.
'Crouching Dragon Damak! Why's he here?'
In my past life, Damak became the Alliance's chief strategist after Jegal Somyeong's assassination, masterminding the righteous-demonic war.
No wonder the Four Black Union's location and architecture felt off.
All from that guy's brain.
'What the hell happened?'
Chaseokdu finished the scroll with a long hum.
"Hmm, you've brought quite the thorny issue."
He turned to Damak without delay.
"Chief strategist, care to take a look?"
Damak, who'd pierced us with sharp eyes, bowed slightly and took the scroll.
He read it in an instant, then stated firmly,
"Worthless drivel. Alliance? Pact...?"
Murmurs rippled among the sect leaders at "pact."
Some seemed pleased, others sneered.
After the brief commotion, Chaseokdu looked at us.
"Is that so? Seems worth pondering to me."
Damak shook his head firmly.
"How much persecution have black pathers endured from the Murim Alliance? Extending a hand now is just to dodge their current peril and cover past sins."
"Is it?"
"Look at the envoy leader they sent. Unless they meant to insult the black path union, why dispatch the infamous Inspection Hall's third lord?"
"Hmm..."
Chaseokdu nodded at Damak's words, then turned to us.
"Anyway, our chief strategist says no. Regrettable, but no alliance."
Makes sense—sudden pacts would undermine the new Four Black Union leader's position.
But from his words so far, if we shattered Damak's premise and made a good offer, we could at least secure a peace pact, even if not full alliance...
"I see. Then no choice."
Huh? What?
I stared at Ak Byeongbi in shock as he moved to end the talk.
Is this guy still drunk?