Finding the Clue (4)
My bewildered reaction only prompted I-gwon to continue his explanation.
“One who has grasped Budong can take the step of the Geumgang. Don't you know this?”
It was the first time I'd heard such a thing.
“Nah.” I nodded confidently.
I-gwon's eyes sparkled even brighter as he looked at me.
“As expected, you're magnificent.”
I hadn't thought much of it the first time, but hearing it over and over started to grate. Still, I could tell it was utterly sincere, which left me feeling awkward.
I-gwon's gaze turned more serious than ever before.
“Theory matters, though. There's a clear limit between executing a technique knowingly and doing it purely on instinct. Budong means, quite literally, not moving.”
His stamina seemed fully recovered by now, as I-gwon rose to his feet and assumed a horse-riding stance.
“Most begin learning Budong from this horse stance.”
Horse stance: the “immovable posture.”
“Brilliant as always!”
No, anyone could see that just by looking! But as the one receiving the lesson, I couldn't very well tell him to stop praising me. It just felt burdensome.
Cough! It felt good, too, though.
I-gwon took a single step forward.
“But what if you move?”
“Then Budong breaks.”
“Exactly. Budong and movement are concepts that can never coexist. So how does the Geumgang Budong Sinbeop come about? Have you ever pondered this, Young Master?”
Up until now, aside from the Samjae Geombeop I learned first, I'd picked up everything else by...
Just mimicking what I saw.
If I got a move wrong, I'd take headbutts from the Daegalbak guys until I got it right. And for anything unclear, I'd just ask them to demonstrate. That had always been enough.
Apparently not anymore.
“I know what troubles you.”
I-gwon looked straight into my trembling eyes and nailed it.
“No need to worry.”
I-gwon had gone through the exact same phase as me. One wrong turn here, and you'd tumble into qi deviation. Anxiety turns to doubt, doubt breeds denial, and denying everything you've built up means it's all over. That's why martial artists occasionally went mad and became vegetables.
I-gwon emphasized each word.
“You haven't been wrong, Young Master.”
He wasn't denying me.
The trembling in my eyes subsided.
“You're just a little different from others.”
Back then, I-gwon had desperately wished someone would say this to him. No one did. How he'd hated the world for it.
But now he knew. The answer to this doubt could only come from within. So he'd pushed himself endlessly, like walking alone through a pitch-black tunnel.
Of course, his Shaolin brothers had helped.
-Isn't this it?
-Why are you so slow?
-Everyone else has moved on, but you're lagging.
-Let's try training like this today.
But they never grasped his true struggle. In the end, I-gwon figured it out himself. And if someone else needed the help he'd craved, he'd give it—no question!
It wasn't hard. Just a few words.
“Everything you've done so far isn't wasted, Young Master. You can grow even stronger than now. I guarantee it! Because you're magnificent!”
The trembling in my eyes stopped completely.
Seeing this, I-gwon shouted inwardly: Yes!
Meanwhile, I felt like I was dying.
Why? Cramp! Oh, crap! Cramps everywhere!
It wasn't just in one calf—it was all over my body. My face too! Cold sweat poured down. It hurt like hell.
I pleaded with my eyes for I-gwon to help, but the idiot was grinning smugly, spouting nonsense.
You metal-headed bastard!
Stop yapping and massage me!
I rolled my eyes as much as I could to tell him.
“Got it? Good! I'll continue the explanation.”
Ughhh. The cramps wouldn't ease for a while. I was stuck listening helplessly.
“The Budong in the Geumgang Budong Sinbeop doesn't refer to the practitioner. Though most people misunderstand it that way.”
I-gwon tapped the ground with his foot. Dust!
You punk! Coughing here would tense every muscle and probably kill me for real. How pathetic would that be—dying from cramps, only for them to find out postmortem it was muscle pain!
I focused desperately on not coughing.
“It's the earth itself. The ground stays put in its place always. To truly grasp Budong, you must feel the earth with your whole body. More precisely, sense the earth's breath. Hear the sounds it makes. Then you'll naturally know where and how to step next. That is the ilbo—one step.”
Forcing myself to listen, it actually started to...
Make sense.
It clicked right in. Perfect explanation—as long as he stopped grinding his foot into the dirt now and then.
Maybe this metal-head had a knack for teaching.
The earth tells you on its own...
Come to think of it, I'd experienced that already. Back in my near-death spar with Third Brother—now a fond memory—I'd known exactly where he'd step next. I'd thought everyone could do that.
Just like moments ago. All thanks to the Samjae Geombeop and Samjae Simbeop.
“Once you achieve the ilbo, the rest is easy. The earth will guide you.”
Damn, my lord! You're not the world's best, but I'd buy world's second!
I-gwon approached me.
Uh oh...
I eyed him anxiously. He raised his massive hand high.
“Why the anxiety again?!”
It's you, you punk!
Smack!
Smack!
Pot-lid-sized palms slammed my back.
Squiiiish!
My loosening muscles clenched right back up from the shock.
Gack!
Pain worse than before ravaged my body.
At this rate...
Consciousness faded. Something rose in my throat.
Noticing, I-gwon grabbed and shook me in panic. The muscles rioted harder.
Gaaahhh.
Fuck! Leave me alone!
“Young Master! Why the foam?! Stay with me!”
It's your fault, punk!
Thud.
I blacked out.
* * *
I opened my eyes. The familiar medical hall.
“You're awake!”
The equally familiar I-gwon.
“Hey, water.”
“Here.”
He handed it over instantly, like he'd prepared it.
“Thanks. How long was I out?”
“An hour?”
“That's it?”
“Yes.”
I sat up. Thankfully, no more cramps.
“The doctor said it's the first time in his sixty years he's seen muscles clenched that tight.”
I gave I-gwon a deadpan stare. All your fault.
He looked at me with pure, shameless eyes. Innocently crazy is the scariest kind. This guy's got a bit too much Je-cheon in him.
“I carried you here!”
“Good job.”
“I went down the mountain myself and fetched the village's best doctor!”
“Good job.”
“There's another patient. Look beside you.”
Hm? I turned, puzzled.
There lay Namgung Je-cheon, nearly catatonic and passed out.
“Found him collapsed on the way and picked him up. Doctor said just exhaustion.”
Well, that too.
“Good job.”
“Haha! Try walking!”
“Why?”
“Just try! You'll see.”
I'd known he was weird, but today I wanted to smash that blockhead. For real? No, Namgung Daeso—your hand would shatter first.
I was sweaty anyway and headed to the well to wash, so I took a step.
Eh? Wobble.
I flopped right back onto the bed. What the hell?
“Haha! Even you can't walk properly!”
He seemed to know something.
“Hey! What gives?”
“It's natural. You've just awakened to the ilbo. Weird if a toddler fresh on its feet could walk right away.”
“I'm a toddler now?”
How old do you think I am? Thirty-three with regression!
I got up again and stepped. One step forward—splat back onto the bed.
Insane. Power was fine, no cramps. Body was perfectly normal.
“You'll adapt quick. I did. It's just awkward now.”
Awkward how? I eyed him questioningly.
I-gwon pointed down and spoke.
“Stand again and feel the earth properly.”
I stood. Feel the earth? The ground under my feet, then.
Slow step this time.
Eh?
“Different, right? Amazing? Fun?”
The ground...
Wobble.
“Feel it slowly with your whole body. Recall that sensation. Then you can take the ibo.”
I followed, unfolding the Samjae Simbeop.
Huuu, haaa.
Huuu, haaa.
And lifted my second foot.
“What is this?!” I snapped.
“Totally!”
I-gwon grinned and chimed in.
“Like reverting to infancy, huh?”
Yes! That's exactly it!
“That's where it starts normally. Though you skipped ahead somehow.”
“What?”
“Hm... Not sure if someone planned it, but you reached here via a shortcut. Whoever it was shaped you masterfully—enough to rival me!”
I-gwon stood and took a step.
“That person must be insanely strong. They saw what even my Shaolin brothers missed. Heh, wanna spar 'em. Know who?”
One suspect came to mind.
Sigh... What the hell did you do to my body, old man?
And you—spar our house guy out of curiosity, lose an arm. His specialty's chopping Shaolin martial monks' arms, y'know.
Eh...? I glanced at I-gwon and my eyes widened in shock.
I could see it now.
That footwork.
That breathing.
Those bulging muscles.
What layered to form it.
Yes, that was...
“Watch close! I don't even show my martial uncles this, but special for you.”
I-gwon tensed. Muscles swelled. His already huge frame now looked like a muscle monster. Believable.
So he'd been holding back until now? And still that powerful.
If I hadn't seen a similar freak at Namgung already, I'd be foaming again.
Hope Lightning Grandpa's doing well.
I-gwon suddenly stripped off his top and turned fully toward me.
Normally I'd curse him a lunatic. But not now.
“Whoa...”
Only awe escaped my lips. Perfect.
One punch from those rippling fists would cave my face in. Anywhere, same result.
But when does this punk eat? Why the weird pose?
“Hup!” Biceps bulged.
“Hup!” Pecs flexed up and down.
He shifted stances, muscles rippling each time. Lunatic.
No reaction from me—he tilted his head, then stopped. Time he learned some tact. Don't they teach that at Shaolin?
“This is where I've reached.”
“That muscle pile?”
Eh... If I turned into that, maybe a little...
Never mind.
“Yes. Barely bounces swords now, but theory says sword aura later. Guaranteed! Even sword qi now just leaves scratches.”
Tanking sword qi barehanded? That's already Geumgang Bulgoe.
“You can reach this too! Want me to teach?”
“Yeah, pass.”
Better off dead.
And so, time flowed, and a year passed.