As the unconscious Chulwoo was carried away, Jin Wikyung stepped forward.
“Is there anyone else who wishes to challenge him?”
I had literally wiped the floor with Chulwoo, who had been so overwhelmingly strong. There was no chance anyone else would step up.
When no one came forward, Jin Wikyung shouted with an expression of pure delight,
“Then the final winner of this duel tournament is the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi, Jin Taekyung!”
Ding.
System
You became the final winner of the Jin Family of Taiyuan Duel Tournament Sudden Event!
Fame increased!
You gained EXP!
Level Up!
You acquired 10 bonus points as an event Reward!
At the same time as the unexpected alert, the Grand Training Ground turned into a literal cauldron of madness.
“Waaaaah!”
“Ten thousand years for the Jin Family of Taiyuan! Long live the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi!”
“The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi defeated the Defeated Flower Fist!”
“Kiyah-hoo!”
Who was that? Did he know how to have fun?
In any case, the atmosphere in the Grand Training Ground grew hotter than anything a rock festival could offer.
A child threw the candied fruit he had been holding into the air, while a white-haired old man let out a wild cry and broke his cane over his knee.
“Waaaah!”
“Hiyah!”
The martial artists’ reactions were no less intense. If anything, they were even more enthusiastic.
Shanxi Murim had been treated as a backwater for a long time. I had only defeated one Serial Confession Man, but to them, it was practically the same as winning a battle of pride against Shaanxi Murim.
“Lady of the House! Bring me a bottle of huangjiu!”
“The dumplings that got stuck twenty years ago are sliding right down! Order whatever you want—I’m paying for everything today!”
Don’t call the Lady of the House. And don’t order everything.
It was all coming out of the Jin Family of Taiyuan’s pockets anyway, but the people high on Shanxi pride had completely lost their minds.
They’re going wild.
Since a large portion of them were martial artists, carrying weapons was standard. I was worried that someone might get drunk on the excitement and cause trouble.
Sure enough, a lunatic suddenly shouted,
“Everyone, draw your swords!”
Clang-clang-clang!
Hundreds of weapons were drawn in a flash of reflected light.
“Wave them from the front, one row at a time!”
“Waaaaah!”
Clang-clang-clang! Clang-clang-clang!
Wait, were they doing the wave here?
As I watched this cutting-edge new cheering culture unfold, I muttered in disbelief,
“This is completely…”
“A total shitshow.”
I had started the sentence, but I hadn’t said the second half.
An elderly voice pierced my ears with perfect clarity. I looked around, but all I could see were excited people.
Who was that?
Even amid the cacophony, the voice had sounded as though the speaker were standing right beside me. Whoever it was, he was a master—one with profound internal energy at that.
Just as several of us turned our heads in search of the voice’s owner—
“Ha!”
Gooooong.
Was this what the lion’s roar I had read about in martial arts novels sounded like?
The ground trembled, and the air shuddered. The more timid commoners fainted or collapsed with screams.
“Eeeeeek!”
“Gah!”
The Grand Training Ground, which had been filled with a festival atmosphere, instantly became an utter madhouse.
The commoners were trembling, and the martial artists had frozen in place. Through the scattered crowd, which had fled as though a bomb had gone off, an old man strolled leisurely into view.
“Much better.”
He was tall and emaciated. His sharp gaze swept across everyone before meeting mine.
I was standing at the center of the duel platform, and as a young man still standing there unharmed and staring back, I was bound to catch his attention.
After looking me up and down, the old man opened his mouth.
“Are you the one?”
“Excuse me?”
“Cheongpung or Jin Taekyung. Which one are you?”
What the hell was going on?
All sorts of thoughts flashed through my mind. After making a decision in that brief moment, I answered,
“Neither.”
“You’re not?”
“No. You must have mistaken me for someone else.”
Whatever was going on, I might as well deny everything and see what happened.
I could tell at a glance what kind of situation this was. I didn’t know who he was or where he had come from, but he certainly didn’t seem to have any warm feelings toward me.
“Really?”
“I’ve never heard that name in my life.”
The old man gestured behind him.
“Come here.”
“Yes, Elder.”
Four people hidden among the crowd emerged. As it happened, I was acquainted with every one of them.
One face in particular was impossible to mistake.
Hyuk Mujin?
Why was the guy who was supposed to be standing guard over there?
Hyuk Mujin, pale as a sheet, walked forward as though the three middle-aged men beside him were dragging him along. Their faces were familiar too.
But what were their epithets again?
Oh, right. The Three Hands of Zhongnan.
Just as I finally remembered the extras’ epithets, the unidentified old man spoke to the four of them.
“Find them.”
Hyuk Mujin and the middle-aged man with a splint on his arm, Gong Ilhyuk, pointed at me at the same time.
“Captain! Please save me!”
“It’s him! That guy is Jin Taekyung!”
“…”
“…”
Well, so much for that.
After a brief silence, the old man asked me,
“Are you really Jin Taekyung?”
I bowed as politely as I could.
“Nice to meet you. My name is Jin Taekyung.”
“…What kind of lunatic is this?”
Just as the old man stared at me in disbelief, three people landed lightly with a rush of wind.
Jin Wikyung, Baek Museong, and Cheongpung.
“I am Jin Wikyung, Lesser Family Head of the Jin Family of Taiyuan. May I ask this Senior’s name?”
“Ahem. You’re the Lesser Family Head of the Jin Family of Taiyuan?”
The question had been directed at the old man, but Gong Ilhyuk was the one who stepped forward.
Jin Wikyung’s brows drew together at the interruption.
“That is correct. And who might you be?”
“I am Gong Ilhyuk, one of the Three Hands of Zhongnan. I am a second-generation Disciple of the Great Zhongnan Sect, and Great Hero Gong Iljung, the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord and Sect Leader, is my father’s cousin.”
That guy was still constantly playing up his father’s cousin.
I wanted to smack him in the mouth with the drumstick of a boiled chicken.
Jin Wikyung learned Gong Ilhyuk’s identity and muttered as though groaning,
“The Zhongnan Sect?”
Gong Ilhyuk was a well-connected hack who threw his weight around, but the name of the Zhongnan Sect was another matter.
The Nine Sects and One Gang and the Five Great Families were the great trees that moved the Murim of the present age.
Emboldened by the momentum, Gong Ilhyuk continued smugly,
“And this gentleman here is Elder Song Il of our sect.”
That old man is an Elder of the Zhongnan Sect?
I had expected him to be a master, but it seemed his status was even more impressive than I had imagined. Jin Wikyung and Baek Museong’s expressions hardened.
“The Roaring Fury Swordsman…”
“This junior of Murim, Baek Museong, pays his respects to Senior Song.”
The old man—the Roaring Fury Swordsman—silently looked down at the two of them as they hurriedly paid their respects.
His voice carried the composure and arrogance of a powerful man.
“Baek Museong? Are you Huashan’s Lone Crane?”
“Yes. It’s an epithet far too generous for me.”
“So it seems. You’re inferior to your Master in his youth.”
What an insufferable old bastard.
Still, I had to acknowledge that his clout was extraordinary.
It wasn’t enough for the Roaring Fury Swordsman to casually trample Baek Museong, who was practically an object of admiration, in front of everyone. He had also spoken of the Sect Leader of Huashan, the Heavenly Sword True Person, as though he were an old neighborhood friend.
His seniority in Murim seemed to be just as impressive as his martial arts.
“I will continue striving.”
“Hm. You certainly know how to dress up your words. But if the Heavenly Sword True Person sent you…”
As he watched Baek Museong bow his head without another word, the Roaring Fury Swordsman’s eyes flashed.
His gaze had shifted to Cheongpung, who stood there blankly.
“So it’s you. The Sword Saint’s heir.”
Cheongpung asked with a puzzled expression,
“You know my grandfather?”
“Of course I do. How could I not know him?”
Judging by his expression, they probably hadn’t shared a particularly pleasant relationship.
As the situation grew more serious, Jin Wikyung asked with a stiff face,
“May I ask why you have come to visit?”
“I came to collect a debt.”
“A debt?”
“Yes. The debt for daring to mock the Great Zhongnan Sect and injure one of our Disciples.”
A blade-sharp gaze shot toward Cheongpung and me.
Gong Ilhyuk stepped forward, shaking his splinted arm.
“Do you see this? I suffered this injury at Prince Shangshan’s residence when I visited after receiving an invitation. I showed it to a physician, and he said I would need at least six months of recuperation.”
Cheongpung opened his mouth with an apologetic expression.
“I hit you gently… Did it hurt a lot?”
Cruel bastard. He was killing Gong Ilhyuk twice over.
Gong Ilhyuk’s face flushed red from the public humiliation.
“You bastard! After ambushing me, you still have the nerve to say that!”
I muttered in disbelief,
“Don’t make me laugh. You grabbed him by the collar first and got your ass handed to you.”
“Can’t you shut up? When I think about how you two mocked our sect and what you did to me, it wouldn’t satisfy me even if I chewed you up and swallowed you!”
That was how childish fights turned into fights between adults.
Jin Wikyung and Baek Museong’s faces twisted sharply.
“Chew him up and swallow him? Are you talking about our youngest brother?”
“How dare you call him a bastard! Great Hero Gong, watch your words! Though our sects may differ, seniority still matters in Murim. How could you…”
“Heh heh heh.”
At the Roaring Fury Swordsman’s irritating laugh, Jin Wikyung and Baek Museong fell silent.
“Seniority. You chose your words well.”
“…”
“…”
“This old man is the Senior Brother of our sect’s Sect Leader, the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord. I am of the same seniority as the Heavenly Sword True Person of Huashan, so there should be no problem.”
Bringing up seniority had been a mistake.
The Roaring Fury Swordsman’s martial arts were already formidable, and he was using his years of seniority to overwhelm them. Neither Jin Wikyung nor Baek Museong could stand against him—not even Cheongpung, the Sword Saint’s Disciple.
“Is this old man wrong?”
When no one answered, the Roaring Fury Swordsman spoke to Cheongpung.
“You injured a Disciple of the Zhongnan Sect. Are you prepared to face the consequences?”
This was why words were frightening.
There was no explanation of how it had happened. Only the result remained.
Baek Museong hurriedly cut in.
“Senior, we must clearly determine right and wrong in this matter.”
Cheongpung also muttered with his body drawn inward,
“I only gave him a light tap.”
“Are you saying you didn’t do it?”
“That’s not what I mean. I did hit him, but I didn’t know he would get hurt that badly.”
Gong Ilhyuk seized the opening and lunged in.
“It was an obvious attempt to kill!”
“Did you hear that?”
“I really didn’t mean to.”
While Cheongpung fumbled for words, the Roaring Fury Swordsman’s sharp voice continued.
“I will formally lodge a complaint with Huashan over this matter, so don’t you dare think you can wriggle out of it.”
“Elder, the government and Murim do not interfere with each other. Besides, the government officials who were present were friendly toward them, so I fear they may give false testimony.”
“You’re right. I will take measures.”
It was practically a fixed game from the start.
Baek Museong bit down hard on his lip at the unfair treatment, and the next target of their arrows was obvious.
“The Jin Family of Taiyuan will seal its gates until our sect sends someone.”
“…”
“What did you just say?”
Jin Wikyung said what I wanted to say for me. No—everyone nearby who had heard the Roaring Fury Swordsman must have been thinking the same thing.
Seal its gates?
What kind of bullshit was that?
It was true that I had humiliated Gong Ilhyuk somewhat.
But that had been limited to Gong Ilhyuk himself. I could swear that I had never mocked or insulted the Zhongnan Sect.
And yet they wanted to seal the Jin Family’s gates over something like this?
Even with the condition that it would last only until the Zhongnan Sect sent someone, the order itself was already humiliating.
“That is unjust!”
At Jin Wikyung’s shout, the Roaring Fury Swordsman raised his eyes.
“What did you say?”
“How can you order us to seal our gates before even investigating what happened and determining right and wrong? Is this the way of the Nine Sects and One Gang—or rather, the way of the Zhongnan Sect?”
“How dare you!”
“Our family will not accept this!”
“If you refuse to accept it?”
Ssssss.
A powerful aura rose from the Roaring Fury Swordsman’s entire body like a wildfire.
It felt as though a sword were aimed directly between my brows. My skin prickled.
“If you refuse to accept it, what are you going to do?”
“…”
“This is Murim. Have you forgotten?”
A sudden surge of irritation welled up inside me.
I knew how the world worked. I had already experienced it more times than I cared to remember.
People ignored you because you had no money, looked down on you because you lacked powerful backing, and scorned you because your talent was insignificant.
It’s exactly the same here.
Murim and the modern world were different, yet so much alike.
Those with power turned lies into truth and truth into lies.
Pressuring and crushing the weak—it all came naturally to them. It was simply the way things were, just as it was to the Roaring Fury Swordsman standing before me.
Drip. Drip.
Blood began to flow from my tightly clenched fist.
I stared down at the drops landing one by one on the ground and exhaled a hot breath.
“Ah, fuck. This is fucking bullshit.”
No one dared to speak.
Everyone heard the profanity that had burst from my mouth.
It felt as though something invisible had shattered with a sharp crack.
The Roaring Fury Swordsman asked with an expression of disbelief,
“…What did you just say?”
Swearing had been a mistake. Since I was the reason this had happened, I should have swallowed it no matter what.
That was the best way to resolve the situation smoothly.
But…
“It’s fucking bullshit. I said it’s fucking bullshit. You fucking assholes. There’s a limit to how much you can throw your weight around.”
I couldn’t take it anymore.
They could call me thoughtless or a young fool who knew nothing about the world. I didn’t care.
I had no desire to replay all the things I had been sick of experiencing in reality here in Murim.
I apologized to Jin Wikyung.
“I’m sorry. I know this is something I’m supposed to put up with even if it’s fucking bullshit, but they were being so fucking shitty about it that it became twice as fucking shitty, and I couldn’t let it slide.”
Jin Wikyung, who had been half out of his senses, displayed an astonishing variety of expressions.
His face twisted, then relaxed. After showing several different expressions in a short span of time, he finally let out a quiet laugh.
“To be honest, I thought it was fucking bullshit too.”
Those words pulled the trigger.
Flames hotter than lava poured from the Roaring Fury Swordsman’s eyes.
“You bastards… must be desperate to die.”
Shing.
Along with the words he spat through clenched teeth, he drew his sword. Layer upon layer of Sword Energy coated the snow-white blade.
It burned more fiercely than any Sword Energy I had ever seen.
And the moment it aimed at me—
“If you kill that guy, you die too.”
At the clear, ringing voice that came from somewhere, the Roaring Fury Swordsman’s body abruptly froze.
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