#68. Hell's Regular Admission: The First Gate (2)
Five hundred years ago, the Murim Alliance was formed in response to the emergence of the Demonic Cult. After driving them back, the surviving members left the Alliance as proof of their resolve. With no central power in the martial world, interests began to converge around the Alliance, leading to its rapid growth. But this explosive expansion demanded a steady influx of talent, which was hampered by ties of blood, region, and official connections, resulting in a leveling down of quality. Three hundred years ago, to safeguard the Alliance and the order of the martial world, the Murim Academy was established to cultivate worthy successors. In time, the Academy became a symbol of advancement for martial artists.
Those who entered the Alliance through the Academy were treated as executives, while low-grade warriors who joined directly faced a promotion ceiling at squad leader or below. For disciples of prestigious sects, entering the Alliance as mere low-grade warriors with limited prospects was an unbearable humiliation. This sparked fierce competition for admission, driving the exam standards ever higher until people began calling the Academy's regular admissions the Hell's Regular Admission.
"Do you understand what exam you're trying to take?"
"……."
"……."
"……."
I addressed them directly.
"Go back. I won't stop you."
To protect every child of the Tae-eul Gate, we'd need more Academy graduates. But now, with progress on the Taecheong Sword Emperor's legacy and other conditions in play, there was no need for all of them to risk their lives on the regular admission exam.
Yet despite my persuasion, the gold-silver-bronze brothers wouldn't budge.
"What kinda nonsense is that?"
"Don't say stupid shit."
"After all the hell we went through in training?"
Contrary to my worries, their fighting spirit was still burning bright.
"I'll follow even if it kills me."
"Leave me behind, and I'll chase you to the ends of the earth."
"Me too!"
Well, after all that effort, if I left them behind, who knows what those three might do to me later.
"No regrets?"
"Tae-eul Gate disciples don't do regrets," Geum Pyo declared.
"Who said that?"
"You did, big bro."
"……."
Why were these kids spouting words I couldn't even remember, when I had perfect recall?
"Big bro, why bandit strongholds, though?"
Dongryong's question prompted my explanation.
"It ties into the number of applicants."
"Applicants?"
The Academy admits exactly 892 students per session. Including the 108 selected from the 108 Peaks, that makes a thousand total. With roughly 200,000 to 300,000 applicants—and that's not counting the warriors they bring along—the number swells to nearly a million. The Alliance uses this chance to handle civilian petitions while culling the applicant pool via the first gate.
"The strongholds targeted by the Alliance number four thousand nationwide. That's every major one with growth potential, excluding the seventy-two bandit holds under the Green Forest Alliance."
Green Forest holds are mostly staffed by black-path outlaws trained in martial arts—more like factions than mere bandit dens.
"So only four thousand pass the first gate?"
"Yeah."
A brilliant stroke. Those without decent martial arts, backing, or strength get weeded out early. And once the exam's underway, the Alliance effortlessly wipes out the strongholds plaguing them—all while sitting back.
"Then we can't just stand around, right?"
Eunho was quick on the uptake, as always. I grinned.
"Why's that?"
"We gotta claim the weakest of those four thousand strongholds fast. We're already short on numbers."
"Right. Let's move."
I led them to Hwun Mountain.
"Isn't this Hwun Mountain? Any strongholds here?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"Before we hit the strongholds, you have work to do."
"?"
"Line up in front."
The gold-silver-bronze trio stood side by side.
"You've learned circulation techniques before, right?"
Geum Pyo tilted his head.
"Circulation?"
"Yeah."
"Sure."
"What'd they teach you?"
"Squad leader of Kwaehwa-dang said, 'Geum Pyo, never use circulation no matter the situation.'"
"And?"
"Uh... oh! He also said, 'If you absolutely have to, like really, really have no choice, when your life's truly in mortal danger... still don't.'"
"Good training."
"...No way, right?"
Tae-eul Haenggong is one of the major circulation methods, alongside seated, lying, and sitting variants.
"You're going to learn a new one."
"...Bro."
"What?"
"One thing: when the sect leader sent us, he told us to watch you. Stop any crazy shit."
Seated circulation dominates the martial world for its efficiency and stability. Walking circulation gets shunned because it lacks both.
"I said we're learning it anew."
"……."
"Memorize what I teach you."
Back in the Small Justice Squad, my meager inner energy always hit limits fast. Enemies poured in endlessly; we had no time to rest or circulate. Without even that weak energy, we couldn't face demonic cultists trained in demonic arts. Most squad members were the same. Enduring qi deviation hundreds of times, I devised a new walking method.
'Looking back, it was insane. Only possible because I was ready to die.'
As my fatigue in battle faded, the squad took notice. I shared it with them. They named the nameless technique after my lost sect: Tae-eul Haenggong.
"Got it memorized?"
"……."
Skeptical glares. Time for punishment on these faithless juniors.
I unleashed my killing intent at them.
"Gahk!"
"Hup!"
"Keurk!"
Their faces paled like they'd seen ghosts, scattering in panic. After boosting my innate essence with Taecheong Divine Canon during the spar with Hwa Jeong-san, my killing aura had thickened; they looked ready to wet themselves.
"Hahk, hahk... What the hell, bro?"
"Why're you doing this?"
"Line up again."
Despite trembling legs, they shuffled back.
"I'll release killing intent slowly, ramping it up gradually. Circulate the haenggong."
Desperate to survive, they started circulating.
"How's it?"
"...Huh? Feels okay now?"
I doubled it.
"Now?"
"St-still... fine."
I kept intensifying until it matched their previous tolerance halved.
"Now?"
"Tough... but manageable."
"That's one benefit of haenggong."
Creating Tae-eul Haenggong let me retain sanity amid killing intent and demonic energy. It also heightened sensitivity to qi deviation risks, halting it before falling in.
"Ah! Use it when you sense killing intent?"
"What're you saying? Why learn haenggong then?"
"Uh... then...?"
"Circulate it constantly while awake. Walking, running, fighting."
"Bro! Bro!"
Dongryong raised his hand.
"Yeah?"
"Feels like my body's gonna twist if I move."
"That's the safety. Push further, and it's qi deviation. Practice carefully, move slow."
"……."
They stared like I was a madman.
"Why go this far?"
"First, your inner energy's too weak. Haenggong builds it steadily, if less than seated. Second, you must train and exam simultaneously. If these recruits I brought can't carry the Taecheong Sword Emperor's legacy, what's the point? Third."
These were my reasons for teaching them Tae-eul Haenggong.
"We're not just four. Our rivals number nearly a million. Think we'll get breaks?"
"……."
"Not just the exam. For a weak Tae-eul Gate to soar, we'll fight countless foes endlessly. Thousands will try to crush us; no rest."
Until the Upright-Righteous Great War, it's years of relentless hell. Expend energy, gather it, maintain sanity—all at once.
The trio gulped.
"This way... we beat those blocking us?"
"How do you think I've won so far?"
Their eyes sparkled.
"Begin."
They inched forward, snail-slow, brows furrowed against the twitching sensations.
"If you don't wanna stay stuck in Anhui the whole exam, hustle."
"Where you going?"
"I don't wanna sleep on Hwun Mountain. Neither do you? Hurry down. I'll wait below."
I left them and descended.
Soharu. Gap Chamber.
Down at Hwun Mountain's base, I pulled a small slip from my sleeve.
Someone had slipped it to me secretly while I checked a room at the Murim Alliance's Hefei branch. Thinking it a pickpocket after my pouch, I twisted their wrist—yet they didn't scream, just opened their palm to reveal this note.
"Finally contacting me. Must've been worth the wait."
After raiding Wolhyang's tomb in Honam and handling the loot, I'd asked Yang Gun-baek for Haomen 'guest' status, passing him Beggar Clan intel months ago. Now the reply.
"Waiting till their value peaked, huh."
With the Academy exams, Beggar Clan and Haomen prices skyrocket. Haomen likely delayed knowing that.
Hefei's top pleasure districts boasted three famed taverns: Manwol-ru, Johyang-ru, and Soharu. Gye Cheolyeong frequented Johyang-ru; Soharu was priciest, for nobles only.
Entering Soharu's ornate entrance—lanterns and silks everywhere—a woman in revealing silks approached. Unfazed by my plain martial robes screaming "broke," she smiled.
"Looking for a specific gisaeng?"
"I have an appointment. Said to go to the Gap Chamber."
Soharu's base room is Jeong Chamber: one maid, one manservant, one gisaeng per guest. Gap Chamber ups it to four each, plus musicians, four gisaengs per guest. Only for money-flushers.
A place I'd never enter normally. But she knew I was coming, leading me straight there.
The room was cozier than expected—no windows, but lit by candles, sparse elegant furniture. Elderly maids and servants waited in one corner; their simple clothes gleamed like silk.
Brothels use elders to shield from drunks, highlighting the gisaengs' youth and beauty.
"She'll be here shortly."
No gisaeng yet. Servants bowed silently, exuding luxury.
'This why people blow money here?'
Soon, a mid-thirties woman entered with four imposing warriors. The young guide was pretty enough; this beauty outshone her. Without faint age lines around eyes and mouth, she'd shake the world. She wore no heavy makeup, embracing her maturity.
"Finally, greetings. On behalf of Haomen, my thanks. Yeo Mi-mi, Haomen Lord."
I rose slowly, cupping fists.
"Jin Sowoon of Tae-eul Gate."
"I've heard much of the Black Flame Dragon young master."
"……."
"Yang Gun-baek passed your request. You wish to be a 'guest'?"
"Yes."
"Apologies for the delay verifying internals."
"Understood."
Unlike Beggars, Haomen members mostly hold day jobs—in inns, taverns, shops, everywhere people gather. No martial transmission like Beggars; more civilians than warriors, so they hide deeper.
"We pondered how to receive Young Master Jin."
"Sorted now?"
Haomen sells info, but uses it most themselves—to protect the group and maximize gains. A 'guest' transcends that.
Few in history earned it. Unbeknownst to most, it requires tests. First: Do you bring info Haomen lacks? My Beggar intel to Yang Gun-baek was that.
"Yes. We verified what you provided."
"Helpful?"
"Immensely. Tracing its source was tough."
"Glad to hear."
"But it raises concerns. Accept someone outside our sight as guest?"
"Isn't that why? Best observe the unknown by bringing it into view."
Yeo Mi-mi pondered deeply, eyes locked on mine, probing.
"I know why Haomen's secrecy matters. But obsess too much, and you stagnate, rot."
Her pupils flickered first time.
"Ma-ryeong Plateau crisis. One skilled shaman, and Haomen's safe? Without me there, what then?"
She bowed her head, thinking, then nodded.
"Rumors true: Black Flame Dragon's mind deeper than Muryangbulgolmokhonjin."
A faint smile graced her face. How many men burned for that smile once?
"Understood. So be it. Prepared just in case."
She offered a silk pouch crammed with intel on notable examinees for the first gate.
I glanced at the docs as she rose.
"That it?"
"Yes. Call anytime for Haomen aid."
Her warriors flanked her. Eyes still on papers, I asked:
"Really?"
Haomen's vetting wasn't over.
"Then... when do I meet the Lord?"
"……."
Her face stiffened, whipping around.
"You're already late replying; we're busy. Hope the 'guest' verification ends quick."
Second test: Eyes to discern truth.
I eyed the last elderly maid.
"If the Lord deems me unneeded, I'll go. Can't leave my juniors sleeping in the mountains."
"!"
Yeo Mi-mi's eyes shook violently.