Creeeak.
The man entered the inn around early afternoon.
The old wooden door creaked, but no one inside turned to look. Not even the owner and the waiter, who should have been rushing to greet a customer.
“So? So what happened?”
“Quit keeping us in suspense and tell us already!”
At the crowd’s eager urging, the old man tapped his empty bowl.
Only after the owner filled it to overflowing with bamboo-leaf wine did the old man—the storyteller—continue.
“A fierce battle broke out. Blood Wolf Sword Lee Cheonbaek brought no fewer than thirty thousand men. Against them, the Jin Family of Taiyuan had only three hundred elites.”
“Thirty thousand!”
“My word, thirty thousand!”
“Does that make any sense? Mount Heng Sword Sect isn’t one of the Nine Sects and One Gang1…”
The storyteller stopped mid-sip and spat the wine back out.
“Fuck this. This booze tastes like shit. I’m leaving. You can hear the rest from the guy who brought up the Nine Sects and One Gang.”
“Now, hold on. Why are you doing this?”
“Who just said that?”
The mood turned ugly, and a young man was shoved back, half-stumbling.
Only then did the storyteller lower his half-raised ass back onto his seat. He was offended now, and that had made him bolder.
Tap, tap.
Everyone frowned as the storyteller tapped his empty bowl. Now they had to give him money, not more wine. They were in the middle of an unspoken standoff when—
Ting.
“Huh?”
The storyteller’s narrowed eyes flew open. A gleaming silver nyang2 had come flying from somewhere.
“Well. Whoever that is, they’re a big spender.”
“Who was it?”
“Why are you looking at me? You trying to get me beaten to death by my wife?”
That was when someone spoke from behind the crowd.
“I’d like to hear more.”
The voice was quiet but resonant. It belonged to the man who had entered the inn earlier. His face was hidden beneath a bamboo hat pulled low, and the cloak wrapped around him was caked with dust.
A martial artist.
Nobody needed to say it. Everyone in the inn came to the same conclusion.
The storyteller looked from the silver to the man and swallowed.
“Thank you, Great Hero. Is there something in particular you’d like to hear…?”
In his experience, ruffians and martial artists were only a hair apart. He was an old man who had lived his share of years, but he had no desire to get stabbed to death in a place like this.
Fortunately, the man in the bamboo hat belonged to the latter group.
“Keep it simple. Just the facts.”
Judging by his voice, he was clearly a young bastard—but a young bastard who had learned martial arts. The storyteller couldn’t treat him carelessly. He rubbed his palms together.
“I’ll tell you everything I know, sir. The whole lot.”
“That battle you mentioned. How many days ago was it?”
“Five days ago.”
“Who won?”
“The Jin Family of Taiyuan wiped the floor with them. I heard the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi played a major role.”
“Then Mount Heng Sword Sect… What did you just say?”
“Excuse me?”
“Shanxi, what?”
“Ah, you mean the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi?”
“That’s right. I’ve never heard that alias before.”
“If you’re from out of town, that would make sense. Young Master Jin only rose to prominence recently.”
“You mean Young Master Jin Wikyung, the Lesser Family Head?”
“What? Not at all. The Lesser Family Head is impressive too, but the one who played the biggest role this time was Young Master Jin.”
“So that Young Master Jin… Wait. Is the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi somehow related to Third Young Master Jin Taekyung?”
“They’re the same person.”
After a long silence, the man snapped his fingers. A second silver nyang2 landed perfectly in the storyteller’s bowl.
“I believe I asked you to keep it simple and stick to the facts.”
“I’ll stake my balls on it.”
At the storyteller’s resolute answer, the man sighed.
“Let’s say that’s true. What happened to Mount Heng Sword Sect?”
“They’re on the verge of closing their gates. Second Young Master Lee Seogeun had already died, and their Sect Leader, Blood Wolf Sword Lee Cheonbaek, fell in battle. Two days later, even their successor—the First Young Master—was killed fighting a band of mounted bandits.”
“Mounted bandits?”
“These gutsy bastards heard the Blood Wolf Sword was dead and stormed Mount Heng Sword Sect. Word is they’d been circling nearby from the start, waiting for their chance.”
“What a dog’s mess.”
“A horse’s mess, more like. They’re mounted bandits, aren’t they?”
The inn went dead quiet. Everyone expected the big-spending martial artist to drive a third silver nyang2 into the storyteller’s forehead.
Instead, the man rose from his seat without a word.
“Thank you for the story.”
Even after the man left, the storyteller’s tale went on. The patrons drank without pause, and the snacks never ran out.
They all talked about the struggle for supremacy among martial artists. Victory and defeat. The young hero who had risen like a morning star.
“It won’t be long before the Jin Family of Taiyuan steps beyond Shanxi and stands tall in the Central Plains. The Lesser Family Head, who excels in both civil and martial arts, the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi, who rose to prominence this time, and… and who else was it?”
“The Heaven Shaking Sword?”
“Ah, right. Second Young Master Jin Mukyung!”
“That young man is incredible too. They say he’s a martial arts genius who appears once in a hundred years, if that.”
“But where is he now? What’s he doing?”
“Dunno. At this hour, he’s probably asleep.”
Even as the drinking continued inside the inn, the man rode on in silence. His mouth was shut tight, but his ears remained wide open.
“Did you hear?”
“The Sleeping Dragon again? My ears are bleeding. Give it a rest.”
“Yeah, but this is top-grade information. I heard it from a martial artist at the Jin Family of Taiyuan’s Gate Guard Pavilion.”
“What’s the fuss?”
“You know the Heavenly Axe?”
“The Heavenly Axe of the Eighteen Strongholds of Green Forest? That mountain bandit who’s a Peak master anyway?”
“That’s the one. Word is the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi took him out too!”
“Isn’t that just a rumor? Why would someone like the Heavenly Axe come all the way to Shanxi Province to play bandit?”
“How would I know? The wilder part is that Yama Whip was there too.”
“Yama Whip too?!”
“They say he’s disguised as a coachman at Honghwaru. If you ever have reason to go there, watch yourself.”
Of all the words in the ceaseless chatter, two came up most often.
The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi.
And Jin Taekyung.
The closer the man came to his destination, the more the rumors swelled like a snowball, growing larger and larger.
The most handsome man of all time. Possessor of the heaven-bestowed Heavenly Martial Physique. A chivalrous hero who cannot stand injustice.
The man in the bamboo hat spurred his horse onward. Hearing so much as the Shan in Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi made his stomach churn and his head ache as if he had suffered an internal injury.
He finally reached his destination the next morning.
Been a while.
The place he had returned to after several years was unchanged.
If there was any difference worth mentioning—
“Stop right there! I am Hyuk Mujin, Captain of the Gatekeepers of the great Jin Family of Taiyuan, hegemon of Shanxi, and right-hand man of the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi! State your identity and purpose, and—”
—it was that a guy who looked like hell was serving as Captain of the Gatekeepers.
The man in the bamboo hat, Jin Mukyung, sighed.
“Shut up and open the gate.”
Whoooosh.
A current flowed, calm and unimpeded.
The internal energy that had left my dantian raced through hundreds of acupoints, then finally returned to its rightful place.
Ding!
System
You have successfully circulated your qi.
The realm of the Jin Family’s Cultivation Technique has risen to the Eighth Stage.
I opened my eyes as I listened to the System notification.
The Eighth Stage.
It was clearly good news, but I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed.
I had been waiting for a different notification.
Could’ve at least bumped up my internal energy.
Today marked two months since I had gained access to the System. Circulating my qi had become a habit, but my internal energy was still going nowhere.
At this rate, it’ll take another ten years.
The greatest strength of the Jin Family’s Cultivation Technique I had learned was its stability. Unlike ordinary internal cultivation techniques, I could even run it while moving.
The problem was…
It accumulates internal energy slow as fuck.
For a martial artist, lacking internal energy was a fatal weakness.
I could handle First Rate and Second Rate opponents easily enough, but if I ran into a Peak master as an enemy, even two lives wouldn’t be enough.
Experiencing the Head Elder’s martial might firsthand had driven that home.
That old man was something else.
Even after five days, I still couldn’t forget it.
No. Not five days.
Even fifty years from now, I would never forget that sight.
The Sword Energy and Sword Force sweeping across the battlefield. And that absurd number—Level 95.
How long could I have lasted against him one-on-one?
Even if I had wrung out every last ounce of strength, I doubted I could have held on for a full minute.
But unexpected variables had overturned the result, and I had managed to drive my spear through his chest.
And the System had not forgotten my reward.
“Open Status Window.”
Ding!
System
Status Window
Lv. 50 Jin Taekyung
Class: First Rate Martial Artist
Fame: 1,180 (+150)
Titles: 4 (Title effects active)
- Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi — All Stats +10, Fame +100
- Scion of a Prestigious Family — All Stats +5, Fame +50
- Novice Trainee — Training Speed +10%
- Gambler — Combat-related Stats +10% in one-on-one combat
Strength: 135 (+15)
Stamina: 142 (+15)
Agility: 130 (+15)
Intelligence: 25 (+15)
Charm: 25 (+15)
Internal Energy: 15 yearsRemaining Points: 100
- Distribute your Remaining Points.
“Ohhh, yeah.”
I had checked that Status Window dozens of times over the past few days, and I still wasn’t sick of it. It felt like carbonation popping in my veins.
Fighting the Head Elder was worth it.
It had been a gamble with my life on the line, and the reward was just as lavish.
I had jumped thirteen levels in one stroke, my Fame had entered the triple digits, and my Titles had changed.
“Check Titles.”
Ding!
System
Status Window
Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi
Grade: Peak
Effect: All Stats +10, Fame +100
Description: Your fame has now spread throughout Shanxi. But the world is vast and masters are many. Never become complacent!
I wasn’t a nationwide name yet, but apparently I had some real clout here in my home district of Shanxi…
So that’s why it’s called the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi?
Goyang’s Honey Fist. Incheon’s Sea of Blood. That kind of thing.
Either way, it was good for me. I had a solid new Title, and Family Shame, the tag that had clung to me until recently, was gone. It felt as good as having an aching tooth pulled.
I’ve gotten stronger again.
I suddenly remembered my conversation with Team Leader Choi before returning to Murim. I had told him that the next time he saw me, he would have to revise my contract.
He had probably taken it as a bluff. I had made it a fact.
I’ll get as strong as I can, then go back.
I would take every scrap of power I could get before I returned.
Internal energy, martial arts, stats. Whatever it was, all of it.
On my next Logout, I’d be a B-rank Hunter—no, an A-rank Hunter—and return home in glory…
“Huh?”
Wait.
I was forgetting something incredibly important.
What is it?
I stopped everything I was doing and tried to pin down that sense of déjà vu.
That was when—
“Is it here?”
“Yessir. No mistake.”
Two voices murmured outside the door. The moment I realized one of them belonged to Hyuk Mujin—
Boom!
The door tore off its hinges with a thunderous crash.
I take basic common sense seriously.
Tissues go in the trash. Cigarettes belong in designated smoking areas. Porn comes from Japan.
And when you enter someone else’s room, you knock.
I especially believe that anyone who barges into a room occupied by a man alone without knocking deserves life in prison.
“Here you are.”
By that standard, the bastard in front of me got the death penalty.
Smashing the door got him life. Talking to me like we were equals on our first meeting earned him an additional sentence.
I answered him politely.
“Yeah. I’m here.”
The bastard’s eyes went round. His face was black with grime, as if he had spent twenty years in the Aoji Coal Mine.3
Young, in shabby clothes. The story practically wrote itself.
Wandering Martial Artist #1.
An extra who had come running after hearing about the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi.
I turned to Hyuk Mujin, who was wearing a similar expression.
“What’s with this guy?”
Hyuk Mujin froze solid. He looked like he had seen a ghost.
“You don’t know him?”
“How would I know, idiot? You have to introduce people.”
Grumbling, I raised my Qi Sense. A blue circle stretched toward the two of them.
System
Lv. ??? Jin Mukyung
Jin Mukyung. Guess he’s pretty high-level.
“Huh? Jin Mukyung?”
I looked at the Level window once.
Then at his face.
I repeated that three or four times before approaching him with my heart pounding.
“Uh. Just a second.”
“…”
Rub, rub.
My clean sleeve turned black. Then a handsome face emerged. I thought I had seen it somewhere before, and then I realized it was the face I saw every morning when I washed up.
We’re the spitting image of each other.
Heh.
I gave an awkward laugh. Wandering Martial Artist #1 was glaring at me, his eyes like ice.
“Long time no see, hyung.4”
Footnotes
-
The Nine Sects and One Gang is a conventional grouping of major martial sects and the Beggars’ Gang in martial-arts fiction. ↩
-
A silver nyang is a unit of silver currency used in the story’s historical setting. ↩ ↩2 ↩3
-
Aoji Coal Mine was a coal mine in North Korea notorious for harsh working conditions. ↩
-
Hyung is a Korean term a man uses to address an older brother or an older man with whom he is close. ↩
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