Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Green Forest Bandit Chief Gu Ja-seong - [1]
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Emperor Wanli was the thirteenth emperor of the Ming Dynasty. Born with a congenital deformity, he felt pain in everything he did and harbored a deep complex about his appearance.
After his master's death, he stopped attending to imperial duties and gave himself over to idleness for that very reason.
He couldn't bear facing the ministers who seemed to look down on him, and trying to focus on state affairs at his desk was constantly disrupted by the excruciating pain radiating from his spine. He secluded himself, citing illness as the excuse.
During his indolence, he drowned the pain in opium. Naturally, he became addicted, and as is typical with opium addicts, he grew obsessed with sex as well.
Emperor Wanli gathered palace maids and devoted himself solely to carnal pleasures.
In pursuit of even smoother encounters, he sought to bolster his virility.
Not only did he scour for every food rumored to enhance potency, but he even summoned Taoist priests to the palace to learn the arts of the bedchamber.
The Taoist taught the emperor not just bedroom techniques but also Taoist cultivation methods. In line with the principles of Dao Yin, he instructed him in Taoist martial arts and had him consume elixirs sent from every renowned Daoist sect.
And Emperor Wanli achieved astonishing results that even the Taoist hadn't anticipated. He mastered every martial art the priest taught him in a single year and ultimately succeeded in the Daoist ideal of huan gu tuo tai—a complete physical rebirth.
His imperfect body was remade into a flawless form.
His twisted skeleton was restructured anew, erasing the deformity. As waste matter purged from his body, even his opium addiction vanished, and he emerged from an ugly hunchback into a stately, handsome man, his confidence fully restored.
One year and eight months into his idleness, Emperor Wanli returned to his duties.
His upper dantian had been opened during cultivation, sharpening his spirit keener than ever before. The vibrant energy coursing through him enabled a vigor in his work surpassing any emperor before him.
The decades that followed eclipsed even Emperor Yongle's reign, marking what is truly considered the Ming Dynasty's golden age (...)
Emperor Wanli never shied from personally leading campaigns either. During the Imjin invasion of Joseon by Japanese pirates, and in the wars against the Jurchens that followed, he himself took command as supreme general—and he never lost a single battle.
No minister dared invoke the Tumu Crisis to block the emperor's expeditions.
There was no need for cautions to preserve himself when the emperor could cleave boulders with a single sword stroke, manipulate his blade through sheer will as in the legends of Ye Dongbin, and shrug off blades and arrows against bare skin unscathed.
As folk legends tend to be, wildly implausible tales claimed that merely a glance from Emperor Wanli caused the matchlocks of Japanese troops encamped three thousand paces away to explode en masse (...)
On his 130th birthday, Emperor Wanli—who until the day before had immersed himself in imperial affairs—realized his calling on earth was complete.
Before assembled civil and military officials and envoys from every nation, the greatest emperor in Chinese history departed the mortal plane.
He ascended slowly into the heavens, right before their eyes.
Contemporary records describe how Emperor Wanli trod the empty air as if on invisible stairs. With each deliberate step, he gazed upward in fascination, as though a colossal whale soared through the skies above.
The emperor who ascended never returned to earth.
Even historians who rejected tales of the supernatural couldn't dismiss the day's events as utter fabrication. Cross-referencing accounts from envoys of various nations present made it irrefutably clear that at least part of it was true (...)
The clash between those two peerless masters in the warehouse that day was captured on video.
The Martial Alliance disseminated the footage to sects across the land.
For them, it was proof that mobilizing peerless masters—even a master worth 100 billion won—hadn't failed due to any fault of theirs.
To demonstrate to the martial world that their preparations hadn't been lacking; the enemy had simply been freakishly abnormal. To affirm that their deployed peerless master was utterly flawless. And thus, to show that a little more preparation would bring victory next time.
Within a week, the video had spread far and wide among martial artists.
How profoundly impressed were they by the peerless masters' prowess in the footage? Yi Pung's reaction alone offered a glimpse.
Watching it yet again, Yi Pung muttered.
"Hyungnim, how'd you get so ridiculously strong?"
Heo Pung-gae snorted.
"Strong, my ass."
"They said you were fourth among peerless masters, but that can't be right? How the hell do you reflect three and a half bullets?"
"Can't you see what that crap did to my hand?"
"It's just roughly bandaged up! Hyungnim, why you gotta play it so cool? Just a few years back, President Park was straight-up jealous you could snatch bullets barehanded..."
"You little punk."
"Anyway, you see the deposit hit?"
"Yeah."
"Ain't this the first time we've cleared this much?"
Heo Pung-gae pondered briefly, then nodded.
"First time we've pocketed over 200 billion from a single gig, yeah."
Yi Pung grinned. He'd handled negotiations with the Martial Alliance and skimmed his cut, so his hyungnim's windfall felt personal.
"Peerless master rates ain't set in stone, right? It was the Alliance's call how much to pay, but they really stretched this time. Probably overpaying to get in your good graces? Next time something like this pops off, don't hold back and jump in..."
Yi Pung pulled out his phone. The video every martial artist had looped at least ten times was saved there.
Savoring the duel between the two peerless masters, he muttered.
"That bitch Rana—last time she was just waving her kid around as a threat, no other slut like her. But damn, she looks stunning now."
"You lost your mind?"
"Huh?"
"Looks-wise, she's got the same vibe as her daughter. Where you getting 'stunning' from...?"
"Not her face! Her moves, man—her style. This woman's got moves that kill me."
"What kinda nonsense is that?"
"Think about it—Korean murim's been way too cushy. Overseas artists blasting each other nonstop, while ours parade around with wooden swords. Hell, they barely scrap enough for inter-sect beef to break out."
"So?"
"That environment was straight poison for you, hyungnim. No need for a peerless master to throw down? Pointless. A rifle gets the job done—but they rolled up with a nuke. Yours was too hot to handle. Now the enemy's packing nukes too? Suddenly, ours has purpose."
Yi Pung was thrilled at the emergence of a formidable peerless foe—a rival that skyrocketed his hyungnim's value right alongside.
Heo Pung-gae couldn't purely celebrate, his thoughts drifting to O Eun-rim, who'd sought vengeance for her father only to lose, hospitalized in defeat. Still, he wouldn't deny the massive upside. It was undeniable fact.
Yi Pung pressed on.
"What've you been doing all this time, hyungnim? Taking kickbacks from street thugs, then some martial artist screws up, comes begging for a bailout—you take the cash and play savior. That it. No wonder your skills outpace your bankroll. Hell, that National Pride Great Hero probably cleared more than your lifetime haul.
I never said it outright, but man, it pissed me off to no end. Now you're finally getting the respect you deserve—ain't it sweet?"
True enough, Heo Pung-gae was riding higher than ever. Even in his glory days as a famed vigilante, he'd never gotten treatment like this.
The video must've rocked murim to its core. After the brawl, sects had showered him with gifts anew—that explained it.
Heo Pung-gae glanced at the presents piled on the table. More lavish than when he'd burst onto the scene as the Invincible Unaffiliated; the office was overflowing.
Meanwhile, Yi Pung kept replaying the footage.
Dozens of viewings in, and still no boredom? His face lit up in rapture, eyes glued to the screen.
Then his phone buzzed.
"Yi Pung here! Yes? Got it. Lemme check—hold on..."
Call ended, Yi Pung shot Heo Pung-gae a grin.
"Hyungnim? Time to celebrate. New gig."
"Martial Alliance again?"
"Yup. Wants you there ASAP if possible. Hand holding up? Good to work?"
"Fighting? Fists are iffy, but I can still fire off some BB bullets."
"That'll do plenty. Let's roll!"
Yi Pung recapped the job, chuckling as he stood. His eyes gleamed with visions of the payout.
Heo Pung-gae asked.
"Do-hyeok? Skipping him this time?"
"Bring the kid, and I gotta split the cash. He ain't helping anyway—why drag him?"
He brushed off any disciple-care lectures with one ear in, one out.
Catching the reprimanding glare, Yi Pung backpedaled.
"Plus, he wouldn't dig this one. You heard the rundown? Pure murim gangster shit. Do-hyeok's all hopped up on vigilante fantasies, romanticizing the jianghu in his head..."
"Save it. Let's move."
They headed to the Alliance's summons. Quite the trek, so Yi Pung gripped the wheel long—but the grin never faded from his face.
A crowd awaited where they parked.
Martial Alliance artists. As Heo Pung-gae stepped out, every eye locked on.
Heo Pung-gae feigned nonchalance under the stares—though inwardly tense—hands jammed in pockets as he strode forward.
The assembled martial artists tracked his every step.
As he drew near, they bowed deeply in unison.
"An honor to have you, Great Hero!"
A Martial Alliance committee member had even come out to greet the new peerless master.
Yi Pung's face soured at the sight.
"Ugh, that fucking asshole..."
It was Go Jin-cheol.
Old bad blood with the Invincible BB Bullet, humiliated just months back—the proud geezer who ought to despise them most dropped to his knees before Heo Pung-gae.
Under all those eyes, Go Jin-cheol prostrated flat and pleaded.
"Please, Great Hero... lend us your aid..."
Only then did Yi Pung's face light up. He laughed in vicious delight.
"Not feeling it... but fine, let's hear the pitch."