Two Years Later
Two Years Later
-Two Years Later-
"What— who the hell are you!"
In high mountains, one had to be wary not just of fatal falls. Bandits could spring from the underbrush at any moment. The world was far too vast, and opportunities to meet someone kind enough to warn you were few.
"Ughk! Uk...!"
The man who ventured into the martial world alone, ignorant of the ways of the world, was hacked to death by a bandit's hands without ever getting the chance to unpack his belongings or display his talents.
His bundle and fine clothes were soaked in blood, and whatever story he carried was now lost to all. The blade pulled from his abdomen was rusted and nicked, gouging out the victim's flesh in the most gruesome manner.
The bandit, masked, glanced around. He was checking to see if any travelling companions were in pursuit. But no one following him was in sight. The traveler, unable to comprehend his own futile death, lay with eyes bulging, frothy blood burbling from his mouth.
"Even if it's unjust, what can you do? You should've at least learned some martial arts in your spare time."
Humanity held no currency in this trade. The bandit lived by the law of the jungle; the logic of power had become a universal sentiment, brainwashing criminals. Rather than praying for the corpse's soul, he rationalized that the victim had died because he was weak.
The corpse was dragged toward the cliff. If he hurled the body down this precipice shrouded in mist, no one would ever know what the bandit had done to earn a few coins. The bandit dragged the corpse to a spot out of sight, then briefly removed his mask to catch his breath.
With the grass at his back, his figure wasn't easily spotted. The corpse on the ground kept twitching its mouth open and shut. The bandit pulled a coin pouch from the corpse's pocket and dragged the luggage aside. Then, closing the corpse's eyes, he said:
"This is all your fault."
"Yeesh...."
The bandit shut his mouth. Because a groan had come from somewhere. It wasn't the corpse speaking. The cliff. Something below the cliff was letting out groans. Forgetting he had a corpse to dispose of, the bandit gripped his dagger again. He lowered his body and fixed his eyes on the cliff.
"Whoa!"
A hand shot up from below the cliff and the bandit jolted in shock, falling back onto his seat. Ignoring his reaction, the hand scraped against the ground and dragged the body of a robust man up from the cliff. Black hair and sharp eyes. Scruffy beard and filthy clothes made it impossible to guess his identity.
"Ugh.... Really. Fucking high as hell."
"Wh-what...! Wha— who the hell are you!"
The bandit raised his dagger and shouted. The man frowned at the corpse before him, untied the rope at his waist, and threw it toward the cliff. Then, looking at the bandit, he answered:
"I'm Park Do-cheol. I was.... dealing with something down there."
Docheol pointed at the cliff as he spoke. The bandit followed Docheol's finger with his eyes. The mist-covered cliff filled his vision.
"I-is that so. I understand."
The bandit lowered his weapon and nodded. He didn't know who this man was, but he was a freak who had climbed this cliff with his bare hands. Running his mouth carelessly or swinging a weapon would be a foolish move.
Because the bandit hadn't even learned martial arts — he was just a worthless piece of shit who had lucked into learning how to swing a dagger and went around killing people.
Once the bandit made it clear he had no will to fight, Docheol tilted his head. He brushed the dust from his clothes and said:
"By the way. You got any money?"
The bandit nodded and held out the coin pouch he had just stolen, thinking that if he resisted, this man might kill him. To survive in the martial world, one had to know one's place.
Only by groveling flat and crawling to masters could a wretched life be prolonged.
"Ah, h-here it is! There's an inn up ahead, so get yourself a hot meal, a bath too...."
"Sure."
Docheol didn't listen to the bandit to the end. In the time it took the bandit to blink, the coin pouch had vanished from his hand. Docheol was already roughly gauging its weight by feel, and he looked alternately at the corpse on the ground and the bandit. The bandit backed away, sneaking furtive glances.
"So.... c-could I be on my way now?"
Docheol nodded and said:
"Yeah, go on."
The bandit turned his body as if he'd been waiting and tried to run. But the moment he showed Docheol his back, a sudden sharp pain shot through his side and his body was lifted into the air.
"Kkeoheok...!"
Through his waist, which twisted on its own, the bandit could tell that Docheol had kicked him. The heavy impact was clearly loaded with inner energy, and that single blow had broken bone.
"Kkeoyuk...! Kkuk...! Wh-why...!"
The bandit writhed on the ground and spat blood from his mouth. The blow had landed on an unguarded moment, leaving him deeply shaken. He grabbed his dagger and tried to rise, but he had no more control over his body than if he'd been thrown onto an icy road.
Docheol pulled money from the pouch while simultaneously shoving the corpse on the ground with one foot. Once the corpse the bandit had killed hit the downward slope, it rolled end over end on its own and vanished below the cliff. Docheol said:
"If someone comes around later asking who killed this bastard, and the investigation net happens to fall on you — whose name are you gonna give them?"
The name he'd give then would be 'Docheol.' The bandit gritted his teeth and tried to raise himself using the dagger as a cane. But before the bandit could get back up, Docheol loaded inner energy into his foot and kicked his jaw with all his strength.
Ppak!
The bandit's upper and lower teeth smashed against each other, shattering, and his eyes rolled back.
Docheol searched the bandit's pockets and found a few more coins, then rolled even the bandit's corpse down the cliff. Bumping against rocks with a thud, the bandit's form disappeared into the mist.
"Feels good."
Docheol fiddled with the pouch and laughed. Whoever the corpse with the bundle had been, he'd had a fairly heavy purse. The pleasant jingling with every step was a delight to hear.
Docheol looked toward the inn.
Now it was time to bathe, eat, rest at leisure, and devise the next plan.
******
"Welcome—... wait, what the...."
The innkeeper's boy made a disgusted face the moment Docheol appeared in front of the inn. Docheol stared at the boy for a moment, then scanned his own appearance once and nodded.
"I can pay. So take the customer."
Docheol said this and poured the money out of the pouch. The amount in the pouch was too small to live extravagantly, but it was enough to put on some bluster at an inn. The innkeeper's boy put away the look of contempt he'd been giving Docheol and, as if it had never happened, bowed deeply while scooping up the money.
"Oh my! My apologies! Great hero! Will you be dining?"
Docheol nodded and said:
"Just give me whatever fits the amount. I'll be taking a leisurely bath and sleeping here today. And prepare a decent room."
"Yes! Understood!"
Once the innkeeper's boy had gone far off, Docheol sat in a dining chair and leaned back for a moment. It felt strange to be back here. A few years ago, he had been here brimming with dreams of joining the Mount Hua Sect — yet now, a few years later, he had returned to this very inn having acquired the techniques of the sex criminal who had rocked the martial world.
After so much time, the innkeeper's boy had been replaced, but the proprietor was still silently working in the kitchen.
Docheol scratched his head and recalled all the training he'd done up to now. He'd practiced footwork technique by stepping on the marks on the floor, and to hone his Bedroom Arts he'd repeated all manner of ridiculous calisthenics day after day. Since the lower body training that formed the foundation of Bedroom Arts was also said to be connected to lightness skill, the Bedroom Arts training had been mandatory.
He'd studied the basic cultivation method, carefully accumulated inner energy, and because he'd had to climb the cliff with meager inner energy, he had researched again and again how to use the Dark Moon Step in a more optimized direction.
What he'd gained from being trapped on that cliff for over two years was the title of a man who was slightly better at sex than others, had quick feet, and possessed a little inner energy.
Docheol didn't like that.
He didn't like that the result of two years of hard training was 'only' this much.
Docheol thought that since he had already thrown himself into the martial world, he had to keep pursuing higher positions. If it was a world where the winner devoured everything, then he thought it only right to stand at the top and rule over all.
"Innkeeper's boy."
"Ah, yes, great hero! You called?"
To gain greater power, joining a sect was essential.
He could never cultivate stronger power with what he currently possessed.
Docheol asked the innkeeper's boy:
"These days, do you have to take some kind of test to enter a major sect?"
The innkeeper's boy scratched his head and glanced around, then spoke in a small voice:
"A test, that's absolutely not the case. These days, sects are said to collect an entrance fee first. The amount is considerable, so riffraff don't even dare to think about it."
"Entrance fee? They need money?"
"Yes, that's right. The rumor is you need to set aside several dozen silver nyang."
The innkeeper's boy roughly explained the amount he'd heard through hearsay. The money he'd spent at the inn today wouldn't even come close — far more was needed. Docheol tapped his fingers on the table and sank into thought.
Wanted posters hung on the inn walls.
A bandit gang notorious in the area.
Criminals rampaging farther afield.
Docheol's eyes turned toward the bandit gang.
"This is it. This."