Learnt to Run but Never Learnt to Jump
Song Un-chan had once been the head of a local dark sect's branch. The Black Tiger Branch had swept away the old underworld elements of Uichang, and somehow he had ended up in charge of little more than a village like Yinghua. But that, conversely, meant he was a man of real skill — good enough that the Branch Master had spared his life and taken him in rather than killing him. Which was exactly why this was absurd. What? He won't kill me?
Jin Cheong-un, having shut the gate behind him, cracked his neck with a series of pops and strolled over with a lazy swagger. He looked for all the world like a back-alley thug. His manner was more bandit-like than that of the men who actually were bandits. A punk with no qi presence whatsoever. Ridiculous.
Gi-do — qi presence and bearing, together. A martial artist who had cultivated internal energy inevitably let it seep out of him. And Jin Cheong-un? You could sense something, technically. About as much as a fly's eyelash. Song Un-chan smirked. He'd seen plenty of this type. Losers who'd picked up third-rate street martial arts and decided they were masters looked exactly like this.
"You've got nerve, I'll give you that. But let's see if you're still this brave after getting beaten down in front of that girl — your disciple, is she? Your niece?"
That must have struck a nerve, because Jin Cheong-un's eyes narrowed.
"That won't do."
He said it offhandedly, curling his fingers into a fist.
"Let's start with a bit of a beating."
Whoosh!
In that instant, Song Un-chan's breath caught in his throat. The man who had been ambling along at a snail's pace had suddenly closed the distance in a flash.
"A-attack! Attack him!"
Song Un-chan and the two Black Tiger fighters swung their blades in a panic.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!
The evening sky, descending peacefully over the Jeong family compound, shattered violently against cold blue steel. And Jin Cheong-un's body threaded itself straight through that shattering twilight. A single fist punched through the paths of blade after blade at precisely the right speed. Song Un-chan's eyes went wide as the fist flew at his face.
CRACK!
Song Un-chan's jaw spun sideways. The world went dark for a heartbeat, then light again. By the time he barely gathered his wits, he heard a shhhhiiiick! of wind splitting near his solar plexus.
WHAM!
The pain was like being skewered by an arrow. His mouth fell wide open. He skidded backward, dropped to his knees, and planted his forehead straight into the dirt.
THUD!
"Ugh!"
It felt like his windpipe was being wrung out like laundry. Tears even pricked at his eyes. Even as he writhed in agony, Song Un-chan could not understand what had just happened. A blade flying at him — and the man walked into it? Was that even possible without using internal energy? Something, something about this made no sense at all!
"B-Brother!"
"You little bastard!"
The Black Tiger fighters, recovering a beat too late, lunged at Jin Cheong-un's exposed back.
"Eek! U-Uncle! Look out!"
Jeong So-so, watching from behind, screamed.
But—
Shaaak!
The blade swung from the left barely grazed the hem of Jin Cheong-un's clothes.
Tak!
The blade thrust from the right pierced nothing but empty air.
"Wha— huh?"
The fighter turned his head with an expression like a man possessed by a ghost. In that instant, Jin Cheong-un's fist filled his vision.
WHAM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
Jeong So-so had never in her life heard such a satisfying impact sound. Watching his companion fly backward with blood spraying like a fountain, the other fighter gaped in horror.
"Th-this is insane—!"
He flinched as if seized by a convulsion, then slashed down at Jin Cheong-un's back.
Chak!
But it stopped midway. Jin Cheong-un's left hand had clamped around his wrist, and his right hand shot out like lightning to seize him by the collar.
"Huh?"
VWOOOONG!
The fighter's body shot straight up. The horizon tilted. The world spun. Given no chance to resist, he flew like a sack of laundry.
KWAAANG!
He flew a good ten paces and slammed into the ground, dust erupting all around him.
"Wh-what in the…?"
Song Un-chan stumbled to his feet, his soul drained from his face, trembling all over. What the hell is happening?! The man was clearly using martial arts. But he wasn't using internal energy. It made no sense. Without inner power backing it up, wasn't any technique only half a technique? In other words, Jin Cheong-un was running on broken legs. How do you run on broken legs? That's what he's saying — it's absurd! And worse, he ran better than Song Un-chan himself, running on two good legs!
No matter how skilled a master might be… wait. A master?
In that moment, Song Un-chan realized something, and his eyes flew wide open.
"B-Brother."
"Ahem! At-at this rate, we really…"
By then, his subordinates had limped back to Song Un-chan's side. Song Un-chan whispered.
"Pull yourselves together. I've found his weakness."
"Yes?"
"It's not that his qi presence is gone — he's not using his internal energy. And if you look closely, he even seems a bit winded. What does that tell you?"
The fighters' eyes went round. Now that they looked, it was true. His shoulders rose and fell slightly, and his temples were a little damp. Breath control was the most basic of basics. He seemed to know some martial art, but clearly not in a normal state.
"I'll create an opening — then you all rush him at once. You only need to land one hit. Just one."
Having whispered this, Song Un-chan faced Jin Cheong-un again with composed calm.
"So you have trained in martial arts after all…"
The corner of his mouth twisted upward.
"But judging by that pitiful qi presence, you've suffered internal injuries or lost your inner power entirely, haven't you? Hehehe!"
Jin Cheong-un, who had been staring at him blankly, gave a nod.
"You're a cut above the usual dark-sect thug. Exactly right."
The admission came so breezily that Song Un-chan was momentarily thrown.
"…You weren't planning to hide it?"
"Never tried."
From far away, watching all this, Jeong So-so wanted to scream. Hide it! Hide SOMETHING! Why would you say that out loud?!
Song Un-chan collected himself, then glared.
"In any case, there's no way a man like you wandered into our branch's territory for no reason."
"…?"
"I will drag you before the Branch Master and claim the credit myself. GRAAAH!"
Song Un-chan shut his eyes as if concentrating, then let out a strange, guttural cry.
Shhhhhiii!
Soon, a ring of dust burst upward around him, and a frigid wave of qi flowed outward.
Jin Cheong-un's eyes widened slightly.
"Haah! Haah! I didn't want to use this last resort… but it's a secret killing technique taught to me by the Branch Master himself. This ends it."
Internally, Jin Cheong-un was impressed. A hidden power. What a wonderfully classic villain line.
So he means to force a contest of raw strength and end it in one blow, is that it.
So the Black Tiger Branch Master was no pushover after all. Temporarily boosting one's combat state like that was a technique seen only in orthodox heterodox sect arts — and he'd taught it to a mere subordinate.
"Now you die!"
BOOOM!
Song Un-chan kicked off the ground, his movements transformed utterly from moments before.
Chak.
Jin Cheong-un stepped forward with his left foot. Then he stretched his fist far behind him. As if he intended not to dodge but to meet the charge head-on.
You fool!
The instant Song Un-chan smiled in triumph, Jin Cheong-un's fist shot out like a thunderbolt.
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A thunderclap erupted, the kind of sound you'd only hear in a smithy. Song Un-chan's eyes split themselves wide.
What—?
It was breaking. Not his fist — his own blade. Flesh and steel had collided, and the flesh was pulverizing the steel and flying onward.
CRASH!
Song Un-chan's body sailed into the sky like a stone kicked by a horse. The fighters who had charged after him could only stare at the sight, dumbfounded. Song Un-chan tumbled through the air a few lazy revolutions, then plummeted into the dirt.
"Ugh… ghhhh…"
Only after wriggling on the ground for a long while could he push his upper body up. He looked up at Jin Cheong-un with frantic eyes.
"Ahem! B-but you said… you lost your inner power…"
"I did suffer internal injuries. I never said I had no inner power."
"…?"
"I simply don't know how to use it."
His legs work, but he never learned to run? Then HOW is he running right now?!
Confusion flooded Song Un-chan's eyes. No wonder he can't understand. Jin Cheong-un couldn't quite make sense of it himself, to be honest.
But it was no lie.
After taking the strike of the Heaven-Slaying Demon God, Jin Cheong-un had suffered grievous wounds and lost a substantial portion of his internal energy. Every physician in the Alliance had said that his mere survival was a miracle, and that beyond martial arts, he would live out his days crippled. But Jin Cheong-un had recovered. In a form no one — not even he himself — had anticipated. His cracked dantian. His torn and severed meridians. His ruined body. Into all of them, a new and inexplicable qi had settled, restoring him as if by miracle. Except… I never learned to use it, so of course I can't.
Tsss-tsss-tsss! The mysterious true qi, drawn from the depths of his heart, vanished in an instant. Even when he forced it out, it couldn't endure for a single breath. Well — "mysterious" isn't quite right, is it. It was the art that had withstood the Esoteric Cult Leader's final strike, and the art he had once learned here, at the Cheongun Martial Arts Academy.
"…S-spare me, please."
THUD!
Song Un-chan dropped to his knees, blood streaming from his nose.
"What are you all doing?! Kneel, every one of you!"
"Agh! Y-yes, sir!"
"Please spare our lives!"
Song Un-chan cried out desperately.
"I misjudged you, that's all! We were only doing the job we were given! If you kill us, the Branch won't let it stand — and you don't want that, do you? Please, just spare us!"
Jin Cheong-un replied, looking somewhat dissatisfied.
"I never said I'd kill you."
"…?"
"I made a promise to someone I know to avoid bloodshed where I can. I won't kill you, so relax."
Song Un-chan brightened. It had been a genuine reassurance!
But when he lifted his head, what met his eyes was Jin Cheong-un cracking his knuckles, one by one, with a series of ominous pops.
"…?"
"I said I won't kill you. I won't kill you."
Song Un-chan scrambled upright in terror. I-I picked the wrong target. He's a genuine lunatic.
The moment he twisted his body to flee, Jin Cheong-un's eyes flashed.
Shhhiiiick!
WHAM!
Jeong So-ryong had always had unusually sharp senses. He could distinguish people at a distance without seeing them, and hear the faintest sounds as though they were loud. So the ruckus now thundering through the Jeong compound reached him with perfect clarity.
CRASH! SMASH!
"GYAAAAH!"
Sounds of things exploding and shattering — and his sister's scream. Could Uncle have lost? Is that why they're doing horrible things to my sister? His already pale face grew paler still. He knew he wouldn't be any help. But the thought that he couldn't just sit there made him bolt for the door —
SHHHHIIIIICK!
— and he saw something flying through the sky.
Huh?
What was that? Dark and thick, and… A person?
The airborne person plummeted straight into the garden.
KWAAANG! CRACK!
A pine tree in the garden snapped clean in half and toppled over.
THUD! BANG!
When Jeong So-ryong turned back, his jaw dropped. A man was nailed(?) into the wall. The legs jutting out over the wall trembled violently, then went limp.
"…?"
At the sight of something he had never witnessed in his life, Jeong So-ryong's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Soon, only one man was left standing. Song Un-chan, the strongest among them. And he was, for the first time in his life, regretting ever having learned martial arts.
"I'm sorry! I said I was sorry, didn't I!"
"No, you're not sorry enough yet."
"Please spare me! Wh-where on earth are you from, great master? The Long Geum Sect? The Blue Youth Society?"
Song Un-chan asked, all the murderous light drained from his eyes.
"I told you — I run a martial arts academy."
Song Un-chan finally lost his temper.
"Don't lie to me! Who could a man like you teach?! You'd only ruin people!"
Jin Cheong-un's face contorted. Not only had the man wrecked the wall of the precious manor he'd saved up coin by coin to buy — now he was insulting someone's dream too? Unforgivable.
Jin Cheong-un's eyes flashed.
"Uh, uhhh. Why, all of a sudden—"
WHUMP!
The sound of air splitting was bone-chilling. There was no room to block or deflect. How could he block what he couldn't even see?
CRACK!
Song Un-chan felt the world go dark from a single blow. He closed his eyes, quietly relieved. At least if he passed out now, he wouldn't suffer any further, like his men—
TOK!
"…Huh?"
His body, toppling backward, stopped dead, standing bolt upright.
Peeking through slitted eyes, Song Un-chan saw it. The lunatic, holding him by the collar with a blank expression, patting his shoulder gently as if to say, come on, wake up.
"You all right? You need to stay conscious."
"…?"
"Who gave you permission to faint? I haven't finished venting my grudge over the wall you knocked down yet."
Then, as if he'd briefly forgotten, he added:
"…And my disciple's grudge too."
This absolute lunatic.
Song Un-chan tried to flee in horror, but he couldn't shake the collar already locked in that grip.
"S-spare…! Gghhak!"
POW!
"I-I was wrong… GUHHK!"
SLAP! CRUNCH!
"I-I'm sorry! I was wrong! Please spare mmmph—!"
BAM!
The terrible noise went on and on. A short while later, Song Un-chan was finally released — quite literally in a crumpled heap.
Jin Cheong-un dusted off his hands with a look of deep satisfaction.
Oh…
Jeong So-ryong stood with his mouth hanging open, watching all of it. His whole body trembled, and cold sweat beaded in his palms. A sight far too brutal, too shocking, for a small boy. So cool. And yet he couldn't tear his eyes from Jin Cheong-un for even a moment. I want to become that strong too… Jeong So-ryong's eyes sparkled and shone.