Farewell to This Godforsaken Dump!

My name is Jeong Ho-yeon.

On the verge of coming of age, I am an upstanding young man by anyone's standards.

Whoosh! Swish—!

Ah, you're wondering what the hell I'm doing right now? Well, obviously—

Thwack!

"Aaargh!"

"Hey! You miserable punk! How many times do I have to tell you that's not how you do it?! Right now, you're just swinging that sword around like an idiot! Imbue it with the profound subtleties of the sword! How many bloody times must I repeat myself?!"

Standing before me was an old man with flowing blue hair and a long beard. If you're wondering who this geezer is—someone who looks like he's about two seconds away from ascending to the afterlife to share a cup of tea with the Jade Emperor—well...

He's my master.

Specifically, a senile old coot who constantly babbles about once being some kind of Sword God.

"With pitiful skills like yours, stepping out into the world would get you killed in less than fifteen minutes!"

Since it was the exact same nagging every single day, I gave him my usual half-hearted brush-off. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, old man."

"W-Why, you insolent little brat—!"

Just as I was tuning him out, an immense shadow fell over my back.

...Huh? What now?

Glancing upward, I was greeted by an old brute with shaggy, unkempt hair who practically reeked of a bloodthirsty mountain bandit.

"Looks like our little Ho-yeon's been missing this master's gentle guidance," the brute chuckled darkly, his shoulders shaking. "Look at you, talking back like a big man when my back was turned. Hehehe..."

"...I didn't talk back to any—"

Before the excuse could leave my mouth, a saber the size of my entire body batted me through the air.

KABOOM!

"Ow, ow, ow... My back..."

Rubble crumbled around me. Thanks to being turned into a human projectile, the stone wall behind me had completely caved in. And guess who gets the privilege of fixing it later? Me. Always me.

A heavy, despairing sigh slipped past my lips. "Haaah..."

So, who was that wild boar—er, that old bastard? Another senile geezer who looked like he made a living mugging travelers on highway roads, yet constantly bragged about having once been the peerless Saber Emperor. And unfortunately, he was my master, too. Frankly, calling him a 'master' was being overly generous; pummeling the daylight out of me was simply his greatest joy in life.

Flutter, flutter.

"Ho-yeon. Are you all right? Don't worry, I'll give that ruffian Dohak a stern talking-to for you."

Holding a folding fan, an elegant, white-haired old scholar stepped forward. At a glance, he looked like a kindly elder offering comfort, but reality couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, what those other two lunatics did seemed tame compared to his brand of torture.

"By the way..." he said, his lips curling into a serene smile. "I see you managed to slip out of my formation. How clever. I've prepared a brand-new one especially for you today, so let us be on our way."

The harrowing memory of being trapped in his blasted formations for over a month, surviving on nothing but chalky Fasting Pills, was still burned into my soul. Do you have any idea what I went through to escape that maze? And he wants me to go back in? Even if they beat me to death right here, I refused!

"Uh, today's a bit of a stretch—"

He looked down at me over the rim of his iron fan, radiating a chill, razor-sharp murderous intent.

"Hmm? What did you just say?"

His eyes promised that if another objection left my mouth, that iron fan would crack my skull open like a ripe melon.

...Should I swallow my pride just this once? Yeah. Living comes first. Naturally. Survival is paramount.

"Nothing at all! I was just so overcome with joy that my tongue slipped. Come, Master, lead the way!"

"Ho-ho. Excellent. Let us go."

After suffering through several agonizing days in that hellish labyrinth, I finally dragged my battered carcass back home and headed toward the kitchen, only to find another figure waiting for me.

"...Did your training go well?"

This one had long black hair and was missing an entire arm.

"Ah, yes. It was... quite manageable, actually."

Naturally, that was a blatant lie. Over the past few days, I had experienced every flavor of misery known to mankind inside that formation. The only reason I smiled and pretended otherwise was simple self-preservation. The moment I dared to complain that something was 'difficult,' this bastard would beat me like a mangy dog with a wooden sword.

He was constantly spouting nonsense about once being the Leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, claiming that every orthodox master who had ever challenged him was currently rotting six feet under. Utterly unhinged. And of course, he was my master as well.

"Hahaha! As expected of this seat's disciple! And the sword technique I imparted to you—are you diligently practicing it?"

The fact that he referred to himself as 'this seat' never ceased to give me a headache.

"...Yes. Progress is swift. I believe I'll master it shortly."

Also a total lie.

"Good. Devote yourself to your cultivation with even greater fervor."

If nineteen years of surviving under these maniacs had taught me anything, it was that this particular old man couldn't tell a lie from the truth to save his life. Thanks to that, I had managed to avoid a few beatings lately. Though, if he ever asked for a demonstration and I messed up even a single move, he'd beat me twice as hard.

Stepping into the kitchen, I was hit by a foul, nauseating stench. Wrinkling my nose, I peered into the simmering pot and found all sorts of bizarre ingredients bobbing in the murky broth: Crane Crest Red, Crane Spirit Grass, Ice-Killing Venom... lethal poisons, every last one of them.

"...He tossed this garbage into the food again. That damn geezer..."

Right on cue, an old dwarf barely half my height popped up out of nowhere, sporting a grotesque, eerie grin.

"What was that you said just now?"

"...Nothing at—"

Thwip-thwip-thwip!

A flurry of flying daggers embedded themselves into the floorboards, ringing my feet within an inch of my toes.

"Ho-yeon, my boy. If you wish to survive the wrath of a 'crazy old geezer,' you'd better mind that tongue of yours. Keke-keke..."

This psycho claimed to be the Poison King, but as far as I could tell, he was just a certified lunatic. He treated me like a glorified guinea pig day in and day out, testing his lethal concoctions on me until I lost count of how many times I'd crossed paths with the Reaper.

"Haaah... Surviving in this place is a miracle in itself."

A booming roar shattered the air, hammering into my eardrums like a war drum.

"WHEN IN THE WORLD IS FOOD COMING?! HO-YEON-AH!!"

"Coming, coming! Right away!"

Carrying the dining tray into the main hall, I was greeted by a colossal, bald, muscle-bound monstrosity of an old man.

"A man needs his meals on time, don't you think?" he rumbled.

Hovering right beneath my chin was a fist the size of two human skulls fused together. The bulging, corded veins along his forearms were terrifying enough on their own. One clean hit from that boulder, and my head would be swatted into orbit.

"...I was entirely in the wrong! Hahaha!"

"Oh? In that case, I suppose I'll let you off easy today."

"Thank you, Master!"

This bald meathead was also my master. Claimed he used to be the Fist King or some nonsense. Sigh. Let's just eat.

I picked up my spoon and scooped a mouthful of rice, but before it could even reach my lips, the entire dining table was sent flying across the room.

Crash! Clatter!

"......I should go eat outside, shouldn't I?"

"Why state the obvious? Or have you grown nostalgic for the taste of my fist?"

Of course I haven't, you bald bastard!

"...Haha, I'll eat outside."

And so, I found myself squatting outside in the dirt a fair distance from the room, miserably wolfing down my meal all alone. The bottom line: every single one of those six freaks gathered in that house was my master.

"A guy can't even eat a damn meal in peace..."

You might be asking why I stayed there. Why not just run away? Believe me, I'd thought about running away a million times. The problem was that whenever I tried and got caught, they beat me within an inch of my life. For nineteen agonizing years, I had lived as a captive in all but name, trapped under the thumb of those six lunatics under the guise of being their 'disciple.' If they wanted to live in secluded retirement, why couldn't they just do it among themselves? Why drag me into their madness? Sigh.

However, this wretched existence would finally end tomorrow. Done. Finished!

Why? Because tomorrow, I was finally coming of age.

When I was first dragged to this godforsaken dump as a kid, I had wrangled a promise out of those old bastards: on the day I came of age, they would let me leave. Free and clear.

"Just wait until tomorrow," I muttered, grinning into my bowl. "I won't even look back."

The mere thought of freedom had me giddy, and an uncontrollable smirk stretched across my face. "Hehehe..."

"HEY! BRING MORE BOOZE OUT HERE!"

Even on my final night, they couldn't go five minutes without bossing me around.

"*Sigh*... Coming."

"Ah, you didn't just sigh, did you? For your sake, you'd better not have, Ho-yeon."

A massive fist poked out of the window, aimed squarely at my face.

"...Haha, of course not! I'll bring it right away!"

Just endure it until tomorrow. Just one more day...

Somehow, morning arrived. The day I had yearned for with every fiber of my being was finally here: I was officially of age.

Before I departed, they rattled off what sounded like parting advice, but none of it registered. My mind was consumed by one singular thought: escaping into the wide world.

"Go, then. Leave," one of them said. "And never forget what I have taught you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master! I will achieve greatness and make our name known far and wide!"

Spouting whatever drivel they wanted to hear, I bolted out the gates, bidding farewell to that nightmare forever.

"...Alright, let's see what the world has in store for me!"

Ten years passed in the blink of an eye, bringing us to the present.

I was now making a living as a wandering martial artist—a nangin.

Why a nangin, of all things? Simple: complete and utter freedom. The only issue was that I had far too much freedom.

"...Odd."

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dealer shook the dice cup with a violent rattle before slamming it down onto the table. The result, naturally...

"Aiyo, it's even, boss!"

Just like that, every single copper I had earned over the past decade vanished into thin air. Wiped out at the gambling table.

"...Hey, brother, could you spare a few coins so I can get a bowl of noodles? Please?"

"Ah, sure. Here you go."

"Haaah... Completely broke again. Taking on commissions is such a pain in the ass..."

Having spent a full decade in the trade, my income was surprisingly decent for someone officially registered as a third-rate martial artist. I even had a fair number of clients who asked for me by name. But what good was earning good coin when every single wen went straight down the drain of gambling?

Slurping down a cheap bowl of noodles, I wandered aimlessly down the street when I noticed a large crowd gathered around a bulletin board.

"What's going on? What's everyone crowding around for?"

Pushing my way closer, I saw a prominent notice posted right in the center.

"Seeking an instructor for Jegal So-yeong, youngest daughter of the Jegal Clan? Let's see here... Compensation: two silver taels per week... W-Wait, two silver taels a week?!"

Even if I broke my back taking on the dirtiest, most grueling commissions, all I could ever scrape together was a measly five hundred wen. Yet here they were, offering a staggering eight silver taels a month just for doling out a few lessons?!

A sudden memory of the nightmare from ten years ago flashed through my mind.

Beaten. Beaten. And beaten again...

Ugh, I don't even want to imagine it.

"...Alright. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Decision made."

Conveniently enough, it was the Jegal Clan—meaning I could put everything that old scholar taught me to good use.

"Heheh. Just you wait. Here comes your new master."