Chapter 20: He Resembles
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 20: He Resembles
The spiral staircase stretched long upwards.
The highest floor of the Martial Alliance headquarters.
There was a rule that to reach it, one had to ascend from the middle of the building using the stairs.
This was because the office of the Martial Alliance Leader, the absolute master of the Korean Martial, was located there.
Thus, all Martial practitioners, in a show of respect, would walk up this long, long staircase, step by step...
“All nonsense.”
Tsk, a man clicked his tongue, dismissing the publicly known reason as he ascended the stairs.
He knew the real reason why he had to walk all the way to the Martial Alliance Leader's office.
The Eight Great Sects.
They had created a plausible excuse to move the office to the top floor, all to monitor and keep the Leader in check.
Furthermore, they revised the regulations to prevent anyone from even using Internal Energy while climbing the stairs, all to inflict humiliation and inconvenience upon those who came to meet the Leader.
‘If only I hadn't feared internal strife and drawn my sword back then...’
In the past, after a certain incident, the influence of the Eight Great Sects grew uncontrollably.
The Martial Alliance Leader at the time was a martial artist of unwavering integrity, a righteous man who believed that others, though perhaps thinking differently, were fundamentally just like him.
“Hoo-.”
Ultimately, that belief prevented him from stopping the schemes to isolate him in time, and now the power of the Eight Great Sects had surpassed that of the Martial Alliance and its Leader.
And so, now.
The story that the Leader, exhausted by the Eight Great Sects' constant scrutiny, was neglecting his duties and focusing solely on training as if in escape, was a well-known rumor among those in the Martial Alliance.
But at this moment, the old man ascending the stairs wore an expression that, instead of the usual resignation, held a strange power.
“Leader. Are you inside?”
He stopped before the office door and knocked. A moment later, the door opened on its own.
“Elder No? What brings you here?”
From beyond the door appeared a white-haired elder, clad in sweat-soaked martial robes.
Aside from his wrinkled face, his firm musculature was no less impressive than that of a young martial artist, and his hair, pulled back and tightly bound, gleamed with luster.
He was Yeo Pil-geuk, the Leader of the Korean Martial Alliance.
“Do I always need a reason to visit? I just came for a chat.”
Yeo Pil-geuk gazed at No Gu-cheon’s gently smiling face for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter and ushered his guest inside.
“Come in. If I’d known, I would have prepared some liquor.”
“I’ve quit, myself. You should cut back too, Leader. Alcohol in old age is no different from poison, I tell you.”
“Nag, nag. Well, I’ll make you some tea, so wait a moment.”
No Gu-cheon quietly watched the Leader’s unpretentious back as he personally prepared the tea.
The office, so modest it was hard to believe it belonged to the Martial Alliance Leader, spoke volumes about his character.
No Gu-cheon took a sip of the tea the Leader offered, then asked.
“Were you lost in training again?”
“What else is there for me to do, really?”
Yeo Pil-geuk chuckled, making a joke of his self-deprecating remark.
Their long-standing relationship allowed for such familiarity.
One of the few remaining pro-Leader faction members.
No Gu-cheon, who had continued to follow the Leader despite his steadily declining authority, had seen his status change from Elder to Senior Elder, losing most of his practical influence within the Alliance.
Yet, he had never left his side, making him a truly grateful friend.
“But your expression is particularly bright today. Did something interesting happen?”
“I just came from presenting awards at a Competition. I met a very audacious young man there.”
“Hmm?”
At first, the Leader didn't show much interest in the story, but when he heard that a high school student had won the gold medal in the General Division Competition, his expression naturally turned to admiration.
“Hoh! Amazing. Isn’t this the first time since Richard Han?”
“Indeed. It’s no longer a unique record.”
“So, in your opinion, does he have the potential to become the second Richard Han?”
At the question of how he compared to the world's greatest, No Gu-cheon's expression became one of careful consideration for a moment.
That alone was a surprising reaction, but the Leader couldn't help but sigh at the answer that followed.
“His Musculature is among the most outstanding I’ve seen in recent children… but his Constitution is Grade 4.”
“Oh dear, if only his Constitution had been a little better, he would have become a truly great master.”
As the Leader genuinely lamented and took a sip of tea, No Gu-cheon offered a subtle smile, as if he had expected such a reaction.
“Yet, the boy himself showed no sign of regret. On the contrary, in his acceptance speech, he boldly declared he would achieve First-Rate status in his first License Exam.”
“What did you say?”
“And he said it openly, in front of the Eight Great Sects’ martial artists who had no interest in him because of his Grade 4 Constitution.”
The Martial Alliance Leader, momentarily dumbfounded, soon burst into hearty laughter.
“Hahahahaha! Their faces must have been a sight to behold!”
Knowing the lofty pride of the Eight Great Sects, the Leader couldn't help but laugh even harder.
The First-Rate License.
Knowing the efforts and support the sects poured into their Rising Stars to help them achieve that honor in their first exam, the boy’s blatant provocation of them was nothing short of delightful.
“You! While I’ve been cooped up in this cage, you’ve been having all the fun, haven’t you?”
“Leader. The most astonishing news is yet to come.”
Yeo Pil-geuk shook his head.
“There’s more? I haven’t even heard the boy’s name yet. First, tell me his name and then…”
“He resembles the Sword Demon.”
“…Did I just mishear you?”
“The boy’s Swordsmanship. It resembles the Sword Demon’s.”
At No Gu-cheon’s serious reply, devoid of any humor, the Leader’s perpetually bright expression hardened for the first time.
The Sword Demon.
The moment he heard that alias, the old man’s gentle expression became tinged with a myriad of emotions.
Regret, lingering attachment, self-reproach, loss, anger…
The Martial Alliance Leader, collecting his emotions with a long sigh, gazed at No Gu-cheon with serious eyes.
“It’s been over ten years since that friend completely cut ties with us. With his personality, he wouldn’t have taken on any more disciples, and a child is even more out of the question, isn’t it?”
No Gu-cheon knew the Sword Demon as well as the Leader did.
That’s why he recognized the faint trace of him in Ki Mu-hyeok’s Swordsmanship.
“…I can’t even guess what their relationship is, but one thing is certain. That boy was definitely influenced by the Sword Demon’s sword.”
Feeling there was a story behind it, and knowing there were many ears listening, he didn’t ask for details.
But after that day, No Gu-cheon, having replayed Ki Mu-hyeok’s Competition stage video dozens of times, was certain.
That boy was connected to the Sword Demon, who had vanished without a trace.
The Leader, silent for a moment, let out a hollow laugh.
“Alright, now tell me. What exactly is the boy’s name?”
“It’s Ki Mu-hyeok.”
Ki Mu-hyeok, Ki Mu-hyeok…
The Martial Alliance Leader murmured the name several times, as if to engrave it in his mind.
No Gu-cheon, having finished his tea, rose from his seat and spoke.
“You’ll see the boy yourself soon, Leader. He’ll be participating in the License Exam early next year.”
“The emergence of a young Rising Star whose sword resembles the Sword Demon’s… I wonder if I should be more worried than expectant.”
Though he spoke thus, the corners of the Martial Alliance Leader’s lips were faintly upturned as he saw off his old friend.
Several days had passed since I declared I would obtain a First-Rate License.
Whether it was the guys who attended the awards ceremony spreading rumors or not, the Martial practitioner communities were rife with posts mocking me.
Things like, 'He won gold at the Competition and now he doesn't know his place,' 'Does he think just anyone can get First-Rate status?' 'This should be preserved and he should be shamed for life,' and so on.
“Mu-hyeok! Let’s sue all these bastards!”
“I keep telling you not to get worked up.”
I didn’t really care, but my father kept getting worked up on my behalf, only to get smacked on the back by my mother telling him to stop, several times over.
‘Well, it happens.’
Frankly, most Martial practitioners couldn't reach First-Rate status even after ten years of effort, and couldn't advance beyond First-Rate even after twenty years of training.
How irritating must my declaration have seemed to such ordinary people?
If anything, reading a few posts on the community made me reflect a little.
“Announcing my future aspirations… I guess I lacked consideration for the mediocre.”
“…”
“…”
“Why?”
My parents looked at me with expressions that said, ‘We have a lot to say, but we won’t,’ and I looked back at them with an expression of incomprehension.
Anyway.
I planned to do my best to keep the promise I made at the awards ceremony.
“Alright, I’m off to train.”
“Okay. Don’t overdo it!”
“Did you pack your lunchbox properly?”
Carrying the lunchbox my parents packed, I left home early on a weekend morning, accompanied by their cheers and worries.
‘I hope I can find even a clue today.’
Over the past few days, I’d been pondering what I needed most, with the Martial License Exam looming.
The exam was in January next year, leaving me with about four months.
What was most essential to acquire a First-Rate License by then?
‘I have more than enough practical experience. My Internal Energy is sufficient for the exam. My stamina can also be boosted further.’
My deliberations led to one conclusion.
‘Guidance from an expert who can accurately assess my current level and pinpoint my weaknesses.’
I took pride in the Swordsmanship I honed during my Vagrant days, but I didn’t believe it was the only answer.
Especially the bad habits I’d picked up from constantly pushing myself were gradually ruining my body.
I was trying my best to fix them now, but I needed a more objective perspective.
But I couldn’t just ask anyone to look at it.
‘No matter how I think about it, there’s only one person.’
So, the conclusion I reached was to seek out the Sword Demon, who was likely living in seclusion somewhere.
A rare figure among Orthodox Faction Members to have the character 'Demon' (魔) in his alias.
However, it wasn't the Orthodox Faction who gave him that alias, but the Unorthodox Faction martial artists.
The Sword Demon was a martial artist who, in his youth, had relentlessly beaten down countless Unorthodox Faction martial artists, perfecting an extremely practical Swordsmanship.
“The problem is, the search area is too vast…”
Having arrived first at the subway station, our meeting point, I looked around with a somewhat helpless feeling.
Five years from now, the Sword Demon, who had been in hiding for a long time, would appear on YouTube, looking as gaunt as a tree branch.
He would release all the Swordsmanship he had perfected throughout his life for free, and exactly three days later, he would be found dead.
The news would briefly report it as [A Martial Arts Practitioner solitary death incident in district seoul]
“...I’d rather give it to him while it’s still warm.”
I glanced at the lunchbox bag slung over my shoulder.
Inside was a lunchbox, packed generously for three people at my parents’ request.
Though I had never met him in person, I considered the Sword Demon to be something akin to a master.
I had studied the Swordsmanship he released on YouTube for quite some time, applying it in real combat, and thanks to it, I had saved my life several times.
‘He’s a benefactor to me, in a way.’
Honestly, I didn’t know why the Sword Demon went into seclusion, nor why he had to die a solitary death.
I just hoped that this time, he would live a slightly better life.
Even if he didn’t necessarily teach me Swordsmanship.
While I was lost in thought for a moment, the guy I was supposed to meet at the station arrived.
“Hey! You crazy bastard!”
“…That lunatic.”
A large figure, leaping five steps at a time up the stairs like a grasshopper.
Shin Kang-heon, having ascended the subway station in a single breath, said with a wide grin.
“Come on, let’s go spar! I’ve already booked a training arena nearby!”
Just yesterday.
I had thought of a way to significantly reduce the time I’d spend searching for the Sword Demon alone.
Shin Kang-heon led the way to the training arena he had booked, chattering with an excited expression.
“Remember what we talked about on KakaoTalk yesterday? If I win, you have to appear on my YouTube channel and say, ‘Brother Shin Kang-heon is a more skilled Martial practitioner than I am. I admit defeat.’ You better keep that promise, okay?”
“If you win, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Ha? Let’s see how long that confident look lasts. So, what’s your condition if you win? You said you’d tell me when we met?”
Last night, we had placed a bet on our duel, agreeing that the winner would get one wish granted.
I told Shin Kang-heon, who was curious about my condition.
“How about this: for three days starting today, you follow me around and run various errands?”
“…This bastard?”
This was a much simpler condition than appearing on YouTube, wasn’t it?
I expected him to accept easily, but perhaps his pride was wounded, as Shin Kang-heon’s playfully smiling expression twisted into a glare that looked ready to devour me.
I smirked and added another provocation.
“Is three days too long? Should I shorten it to two?”
“…Today, I’m going to half-kill you.”
With Shin Kang-heon, whose chatter had noticeably ceased, I headed to the training arena we had booked.