I'll Handle That Revenge Myself (1)
It happened in an instant. Over fifty people clamped their mouths shut all at once. The sporadic noises that had been drifting about vanished completely. Silence settled in, a profound stillness gripping the air. Above all, every eye in the courtyard turned toward me. Those stares burned like acid.
I could guess what they were all thinking. Da……. They heard me. But so what!?
I didn't say anything wrong!
A spark of pointless defiance flared up in a corner of my mind, born from the utter confidence in my words. There was no lie in what I'd spat out. Calling crazy bastards crazy wasn't wrong, was it?
"What're you all staring at?"
That's why I could fire back so boldly. I mean, come on….
"I didn't say anything wrong."
Revenge should be selective about its targets. Look at those two old geezers. They went after that one thing, and not only did their revenge flop—they lost everything they had and ended up broke. It's a miracle they're still breathing. I know my family's temper better than anyone; a hole in the gut wouldn't have been surprising.
Ah…. Come to think of it, that old man said his arm got chopped off. Ahem! Water under the bridge now. Guess the old folks at home were even more ruthless back in the day.
That's when it happened.
"Hahaha!"
A burst of jovial laughter erupted from one corner of the courtyard, utterly at odds with the tension. Are they really nuts?
The one cracking up was a massive hunk of a man. He was doubled over, guffawing like something was the funniest thing ever.
"Hahaha!"
And then, something strange occurred. The laughter spread like a plague.
"They're crazy, alright. Hahaha!"
"Damn right, total lunatics. Hahaha!"
Here, there—laughter exploded everywhere. Soon, the whole place was a sea of it.
They're insane.
Even I was muttering nonsense now.
"Bunch of psychos."
"Hahaha!"
"That's not a compliment! Quit laughing!"
"Hahaha!"
"Haa…. Why do all the crazies flock to me?"
As I sighed, the first guy who'd burst out laughing approached me.
"That was the most satisfying thing I've heard in ages."
I stared at him in disbelief. Who gets happy hearing insults? You wouldn't believe it if someone told you. Yeah, exactly—it's unbelievable. But here he was!
"You're nuts."
"Hahaha!!!"
See? He laughed his ass off for a good while before finally catching his breath.
"Everyone's been bottling up decades of frustration, and your words let it all out, even if just for a moment. They're feeling that rush of freedom. So cut 'em some slack."
"Doesn't mean they gotta laugh like maniacs at an insult."
"It's all thanks to you, young hero."
Me? All I did was call them crazy!
"You're deranged. Lost your marbles. Or straight-up lost your mind."
So I hurled a few more for good measure—nice and loud. I was curious if that's really what set them off.
And sure enough….
"Hahaha!"
"This is hilarious! Freaking gold!"
"You're the youngest bastard who's ever cursed me out!"
Yeah, figures. An eleven-year-old doesn't usually cuss out a fifty-year-old.
"What a pack of loons…."
That was me muttering. The big guy didn't seem fazed by the abuse and continued.
"Sorry about that. And like the elders said, seems we came to the right place."
His words rang true. So did that laughter. It all started with Hyegeom.
He had no idea why the Namgung clan's youngest young master was practicing Hyegeom. But it wasn't weird. This was the Namgung estate, after all. Made sense. Probably the Sword King taught him. That was a solid guess.
But looking at the Sword King's face…. Nah, didn't seem like it. He wouldn't be that shocked if he'd taught it himself.
Soon, he wore an expression like Mujikja's. Most who'd seen the young master's sword dance probably looked the same. He didn't turn to check, but he was damn sure.
It shattered the mold of their thinking….
Hyegeom had to be Hyegeom. Infinitely soft and flowing swordsmanship—that was its essence, the ideal it embodied when it earned its name.
Yet this kid demolished it without hesitation.
The problem? It didn't look bad. If anything, it looked better.
Why hadn't they thought of something so simple? Regret overshadowed any regret.
Maybe the question was wrong. Simply put: what they couldn't do in over fifty years, this kid pulled off.
In a moment like this, who wouldn't laugh? Denying it would be a lie.
"We're crazy, alright. Just like you said."
Yeah. If you weren't losing it, that would be the real insanity.
Suddenly, the big man bowed deeply toward Geum Dondong.
"Park Jin-mu the Nine Dragons humbly requests of the Gold King: please lend me a hundred silver taels."
In that instant, everyone who'd been howling with laughter bowed in unison.
"Eight Dragons…."
"Seven Dragons…."
"Third Demon…."
"Seventh Demon…."
"True Heaven Sword…."
"Eighth Demon Sword…."
What the hell? It was almost a spectacle—fifty men bowing perfectly in sync, pleading to someone without a single slip.
The two old men clasped their hands in po-gwan last.
"Buljon Ilseon beseeches the Gold King."
"Taeguk Sword King Mujikja beseeches the Gold King."
Eh? Did I hear that right?
Dozens of aliases poured from their mouths—most unknown to me. But the last two? Crystal clear.
Buljon was the former Shaolin abbot's title. Taeguk Sword King was the ex-top Wudang swordsman's.
"You guys really are nuts."
That half-assed old monk was Wudang's top sword? Hold up—Buljon's one-armed too….
The old merchant, having received all their po-gwan, turned to me with utmost courtesy and clasped his hands.
"Gold King Geum Dondong humbly asks the Namgung clan's youngest young master: will you accept us?"
I stared at them. What the actual fuck is going on?
One curse from my mouth, and suddenly this?
"Everyone, raise your heads."
Thankfully, they listened. I pointed at the first guy who'd laughed.
"What's your name again?"
"Park Jin-mu the Nine Dragons."
"Cool. I'll call you Uncle Nine Dragons for short. You wanna join my crew, right?"
"Yes."
"You're mistaken. I can't give you the revenge you want."
I addressed them all.
"And not just you—I'm not planning to avenge any of you. I don't have the power anyway. So please, don't do this."
"But we saw it."
Saw what? Nine Dragons Park Jin-mu spoke slowly.
"In your sword dance, young master, we saw our path forward."
Sword dance? That little routine I did earlier?
"That was just a dance."
"No!"
Someone cut in—the branch-headed old man, apparently Taeguk Sword King. Hard to buy, but whatever. Better than fifty voices overlapping.
"What you performed wasn't some mere sword dance. It was Taeguk Hyegeom."
"I can't even buy that you're the Taeguk Sword King, and now Taeguk Hyegeom? You don't mean that top Wudang sword art, do you?"
"If we're talking raw power, plenty surpass Hyegeom. But none can defeat it."
"I just copied the dance you did, old timer. Hyegeom isn't something any rando can mimic."
Not like Samjae Geombeop floating around everywhere. Oh, unknown Sword Sovereign up in the heavens—I'm not dissing Samjae Geombeop. Just comparing apples to apples. You get it, right?
"Beats me. But it was Hyegeom. Though toward the end, it morphed into something even I don't know."
"Fine."
I decided to sort this mess out.
"Let's say it was Hyegeom."
"It was."
"Assuming that, what 'path forward' did you see in my dance to make you act like this?"
Then the one-armed old man—Buljon Ilseon, unbelievably—stepped up.
"Young hero, you still don't grasp what you've done."
Nah, I do. Called the crazies crazy. Did this bald monk go nuts and get kicked from Shaolin? Plausible.
The one-armed elder advanced calmly, and the crowd parted, creating space around him.
"Sometimes in life, actions teach better than words."
He paused, steadying his breath. The reverence was so thick, no one dared speak.
Then—
"Hahap!"
With a shout, he stomped and thrust a punch. Pure, no-frills strike. Then he asked:
"What does that look like to you?"
"Just a punch."
I answered honestly. Well, ego kept me from adding the full truth.
"Pretty cool, though. Like you've spent your whole life perfecting that one hit. Could pass for Baekbo Singwon."
A faint smile crept onto his lips. Always smiling. Call him Baldy and see if he grins? Nah, might piss him off.
I soon learned why he smiled.
"Spot on—Baekbo Singwon. Only difference? No internal energy."
These guys and their lies! Pick your targets, damn it.
"Haha!"
Couldn't help but laugh for real.
Who am I? Sure, I look like an eleven-year-old now, but originally a strapping twenty-year-old. Pre-regression, my skills were third-rate trash, but I devoted my life to training daily.
That's Baekbo Singwon? A stray dog would laugh.
I mimicked his move exactly.
Thud! Ta-hat!
"This is Baekbo Singwon?"
Something any mutt could copy? Come on.
"Add qi and it becomes the real deal?"
Lies need believable targets. Boom—Kwang!
"Huh?"
The sound was legit…. I looked ahead. A fist-sized hole in the wooden pillar.
Whoa.
"Believe me now?"
I pointed at some random guy next to the one-armed elder.
"You. Do something. Any martial art. Whatever you got."
Just random words, but he got it, assumed a stance, and swung a sword form at empty air.
"Sword."
I held out my hand sideways. Someone handed me a blade. Then—
Swish.
It worked. Exact same sword technique as his.
"It works? Why?"
I did it myself and still didn't get it.
"Insane talent. Maybe possible only because you mastered just the basics."
I wasn't asking anyone, but an answer came.
"The 'Three Talents Retard' rumor is famous in the clan now. Nobody buys it anymore."
"Three Talents Retard…."
Oh yeah, that nickname. And the line: created Samjae Geombeop to wield all sword arts.
Thought it was Sword Sovereign bullshit.
Sword Sovereign? Was it real? Can't ask in heaven.
Still baffled.
"Sometimes, a drink clears things up."
"Booze… now?"
Suddenly?
"Yep. Solves everything sometimes. Ever heard 'liquor cures all ills'?"
"Isn't it 'liquor causes all ills'?"
"Who spouts such nonsense!"
Everyone but you!
"I'm not old enough for booze."
"Pfft, who cares? I started younger than you. Look at me—fine as wine."
"Old timer, you got booted from Wudang."
"Booted? I walked out. Who chases off Wudang's top sword?"
"True…."
Then why'd you leave? Haa…. Might need that drink after all.
I didn't agree with Branch-head's logic, but booze sounded perfect right now.
Just play along. Drink at my age? Who knows what happens.
Wake up, and this dream sorts itself. Later, I'd realize: booze never helped my life. First drink ever? Died that day. This is number two—no drinking, but still. Booze is my nemesis!
Well, my situation did change. Before and after the drinks. More than expected.