Chapter 58 - Martial Arts Masochist

Late at night. I found myself wandering the streets of Seongdo. It was somewhat frightening and daunting, yet there was no other choice. I had to see it with my own eyes. "Seo Jin, what's with your whims this time?" "It's just...a stroll." Fortunately, Mr. Kwakdu was leisurely accompanying me. No matter how open-minded he was, a martial artist is still a martial artist. And as a branch leader, he wouldn't easily succumb to any hooligans. With the cudgel hanging at his waist, I was confident he could protect us. I moved from alley to alley, my ears attuned to the surroundings. Seongdo was extensive and intricate. There was no way to predict where the incident might occur. Yet, it was bound to happen somewhere. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but it would. It had to. It must, or everything would be lost. Driven by desperation, I prowled around in search of the incident. After Cheong Wol disrupted the protagonist's fateful encounter, I had to ensure the story was back on its destined path. A secluded alley, not too far from the Sichuan Tang Sect's main hall, and remote enough to avoid foot traffic—a place where recluses might find solace. A location seemingly perfect for a brawl. Narrowing down the candidates, Mr. Kwakdu and I found ourselves in a desolate alley. The hills formed naturally, and haphazardly stacked houses even filtered out the moonlight. "Hold on, Seo Jin. Do you hear something?" "Go on, check it out." "Getting involved in these things—nothing good ever comes of it—" "—Come on, let's hurry." I couldn't hear a thing, but it seemed Mr. Kwakdu had caught something with his keen ears. He sighed and reluctantly followed my stubborn insistence. Soon, we found the source of the noise. -Thud! Thump! "You scoundrel! How dare you!" "Don't you know the Three Ghosts of Sichuan? That's us, you fool!" "With the way you're wielding that sword, you must be a novice. Well, now you're in for it!" There it was! I crouched, lowering myself behind Mr. Kwakdu, my footsteps hushed as I cautiously peeked over the wall. There, huddled pathetically, was someone being relentlessly beaten by the street bullies. A small frame. A face dirtied with spots and freckles, and amid the blood spatter, features that were inexplicably handsome and almost unsettlingly beautiful. Yes, it was clear—if anyone were to be getting beaten up here, it would be this person. Nobody else would dare walk with eyes wide open in this alleyway. The protagonist of this novel, the underachiever of the Namgoong family, Namgoong Yeon. Astonishingly, he was being thoroughly thrashed. "You, you fools! Don't you know who I am?" His protests, devoid of any dignity, were met with nothing more than derisive snorts. "What difference does it make who you are? Even if you're the head of Shaolin now, you're still groveling under our fists!" A woman was trembling, hiding behind Namgoong Yeon. Once again, her moral compass had led her to meddle, despite lacking the skills. Upon witnessing the scene, Mr. Kwakdu immediately gripped his cudgel, anger welling up in his eyes. "These scoundrels—" "—Wait!" Hurriedly, I clamped my hand over his mouth. No, we can't interfere. The fateful encounter guiding the protagonist mustn't involve Mr. Kwakdu. As much as I adore him, he can't be the one to steer Namgoong Yeon. Besides, if Mr. Kwakdu gets tied up with Namgoong Yeon, he'll only get swept deeper into the coming tempest of bloodshed. It's out of love that I'm stopping him. "Seo Jin, why are you doing this...!" His eyes were filled with bafflement at my inexplicable behavior. "Just wait...! Just wait a little longer!" He glanced from Namgoong Yeon back to me, and in the end, silently acquiesced. Together, we watched as Namgoong Yeon endured another brutal beating. Each time he tried to stand, they hit harder and more relentlessly. Mr. Kwakdu frowned, squinting for a clearer view of the situation, and then realized, with a start, the identity of the battered person. "That's... that's Namgoong—" "—Hold on, just a little longer." And, as expected, something emerged from the shadows. Instead of the simple thudding of blows striking Namgoong Yeon, the sound slicing through the air was that of bones breaking. Crack. Thump. Then, silence. In an instant, the three thugs were defeated. "...Is this all the only successor of the Namgoong family amounts to?" "Huff... huff..." "It seems you've not the slightest skill fit for attending the Tang Clan's assembly. I’m not expecting Millennium Flower level, but... isn't it a shame you've the title of the Sword of Kings?" An imposing figure clad in black coldly muttered. Muk Ryong. Namgoong Yeon lay trembling on the ground. Without even looking closely, I could tell tears of frustration were streaming down her face. Though my heart ached for her, relief overshadowed everything else—for now. "Sigh..." A sigh, deep as my soul, escaped me. Finally. The story was back on track. "That's it. Right? They're both safe now," I remarked, relieved. "Yes." "Let's head back, Ajusshi. Like you said, nothing good would come from getting involved." I turned to leave, my goal accomplished, but Mr. Kwakdu stood still, intent on observing the scene a bit longer. -Swiftly! Just then, Muk Ryong turned his head towards us. -Hide! Simultaneously, Mr. Kwakdu and I ducked and held our breath. Moments later, the conversation between Muk Ryong and Namgoong Yeon picked back up. Only after, did we straighten our backs and cautiously retreat from the scene. "Phew..." Once we were at a safe distance, I finally allowed myself to relax. I had managed to aid in Namgoong Yeon's fateful encounter. Nothing was more important than that. Meanwhile, Mr. Kwakdu shook his head in disbelief. "What's to become of the Namgoong family? I heard he was an underachiever, but who'd think the young leader would be getting beaten by street bullies. He's full of righteousness, but without the skills to back it up, it's futile." "Don't worry. He'll do well," I reassured, brushing it off lightly. "By the way, Seo Jin, did you anticipate this happening?" "...I’m not some fortune teller... I just saw him enter the alley and noticed he hadn't come out." "The woman behind Namgoong Yeon..." Mr. Kwakdu gave me a skeptical look but, as always, didn’t pry too deeply. He's endlessly generous and patient when it comes to family. He never questions why I somehow got entangled with Tang So Ran, what's really in my basement, or why I dislike martial artists. And that remained true now. I guess he just sees me as a somewhat peculiar guy. Sighing once again, Ajusshi returned to the previous topic. "Could the Namgoong family truly fall like this?" "..." "It's difficult to accept that a son we've struggled to raise ends up like that." Unlike him, I remained unfazed. Namgoong Yeon may be an underachiever, but it's simply one of the obstacles for the protagonist to overcome. She'll break down, fall apart, and be shattered. She'll endure countless hardships, eventually honing her skills through revenge or whatever, and awaken to her true potential. She's destined to become the finest warrior. For now, it's fine for her to get beaten, cry a lot, and roll around. I’m sorry—go through the grind. At the end, I'll celebrate her triumph over adversity with admiration. **** Cheong Wol spent her day again at the center of Seongdo, in the high-up third-floor guesthouse, mingling with other fellow disciples. Seated in a prime spot, they were deep in conversation. Today's main topic was Namgoong Yeon, who suddenly appeared bruised all over. Why did she end up like that? Who did it? How did such a thing happen? Everyone inquired, but Namgoong Yeon only wore an enigmatic smile, merely excusing it as intense training. Cheong Wol, however, showed little interest in such commotion. She offered some perfunctory words of concern and returned her gaze out the window. From her vantage, she took in the crowd below in the plaza. Were they people who came every day, or were they unfamiliar faces? Cheong Wol no longer could tell them apart. The popularity never waned, and the noise was deafening. Despite everything, Cheong Wol managed a smile. And then, suddenly, she questioned why she was smiling for them. Why am I catering to their whims? What is the point of matching their humor, nodding along, restraining my speech, and exchanging pleasantries in this superficial time? Was it for the sect? ...But do I truly still love the sect? Once upon a time, I did love it. There was a period when I accepted the laws and rules as my whole life, under the gentle touch of my Master and the Head Master. ...But now? Now, even that love feels faint. When I was unable to stand on my own, I clung to the sect and loved it to live. But now that I have the strength to live independently, the dependence and love have faded away. ...Am I really such a creature without loyalty? Cheong Wol lightly mocked herself. Or is there another reason I'm enduring this time? The public's opinions aren't favorable. Perhaps I'm weighed down by the burden of reputation. ...It's definitely not for amusement. That much is true. In Seongdo, to engage in that with Han Seo Jin would be... humiliating, disgraceful... receiving affection... "...Wol Ah?" "Yes?" Startled, Cheong Wol responded to a voice calling her. It was Dang So Ran, seated across from her. "Are you alright? Your cheeks are a bit red." "...I’m fine." With a hint of urgency, she sipped the now cold tea. "...Regarding before, I apologize." Suddenly, Dang So Ran expressed regret. Cheong Wol tensed. She knew all too well what the apology was about. Involuntarily, Cheong Wol leaned closer to Dang So Ran, whispering so the other disciples wouldn't hear. "This isn't the place to discuss it." "Oh, right. But there haven't been any chances..." Cheong Wol rolled her eyes, then spilled what she'd been holding back. "If it doesn't happen again, there's no problem." As long as she doesn't approach Han Seo Jin again, there would be no issue. "..." Dang So Ran remained silent. In response, Cheong Wol unknowingly cast a cold glance in her direction. "Senior?" "Ah, yes. Certainly." Dang So Ran replied, averting her eyes. Cheong Wol felt unsettled by the ambiguous reaction. Her anger towards Han Seo Jin remained, but her resentment towards Dang So Ran was even greater. "By any chance... huh?" At that moment, her eyes caught sight of someone. She couldn't fathom how she spotted him amidst the masses. But there he was, Han Seo Jin, suddenly visible among the people. Cheong Wol found herself utterly captivated in that instant.