WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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Chapter 43: Jo Seong-won (2)

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Unlike other martial artists, I could use not only my Lower Dantian, but my Central Dantian as well.

My internal energy alone was only a little above Advanced, but my innate life energy was different.

Only a month ago, I had reached the fourth level of the Stellar Star Mystic Art.

I had now surpassed the limits of the wall known as Advanced.

Whoosh!

Jo Seong-won sprang to their feet in alarm and used a step.

That swaying, drunken-looking step was likely the Beggars' Sect's Drunken Eight Immortals Steps.

I quickly closed in on the bastard.

“Urgh.”

This had to be difficult for them.

No matter how skilled they were in Palm Techniques, it was not easy to face a sword bare-handed.

Besides, the gap between us was clear.

Swish, swish, swish, swish!

My sword moved fluidly, changing endlessly.

It was Flowing Loach Form Sword, the third technique of the Stellar Star Sword Art.

Jo Seong-won unleashed palm forms against the sword technique as it slipped in as softly as willow branches.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Rather than using the fierce force unique to the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, they added variations to their techniques to blunt the sword technique's sharpness.

They skillfully deflected the blade, striking near the sword's body to stop its movements.

They were certainly skilled.

But...

“Urgh!”

My sword was faster than their hands, and my Force of ki was far greater.

Their palms had to be stinging from the force of my sword.

After blocking around eight consecutive movements, Jo Seong-won's face gradually flushed red.

'An opening.'

Unable to endure the pain, they revealed a small opening.

I thrust my sword neatly into that gap.

As the tip drove toward their right collarbone, they panicked and tried to knock aside my sword with a palm technique.

“I knew you'd do that.”

“What?”

At that moment, I changed the technique.

I turned the sword upward, intending to split their head in two.

'!!!'

Sensing death, they flinched and squeezed their eyes shut.

Without mercy, I brought my sword down toward their head.

Clang!

“Argh!”

They screamed.

Yet their head had not split open.

Had I used the blade, they would have died before they could scream. I had deliberately turned the sword and struck with its flat.

“Ugh...”

Though writhing in pain, they covered their head with both hands as if wondering whether it had split open.

Once they confirmed their head was intact, they looked at me in confusion.

“...Why?”

“I didn't spare you.”

Thud!

“Guh!”

I kicked them in the abdomen.

Whether ordinary people or martial artists, anyone struck in the abdomen without guarding against it felt such pain it seemed as though they might die.

I had even loaded the blow with innate life energy, so it had to hurt.

Their face turned bright red, and their body curled like a shrimp.

I sealed their blood pressure points and chi.

Tap-tap-tap-tap!

They would no longer be able to use internal energy.

Alarmed at having their pressure points sealed, they urgently spoke to me.

“W-wait... Let's talk first...”

“I tried to talk. But someone threw Palm Techniques at me.”

“Th-that was...”

I grabbed Jo Seong-won's hair.

Squeeze!

“W-what are you doing?”

“I'd already built up plenty over the past year because of that crazy old man, so thanks.”

For giving me such a good opportunity.

Their trembling eyes reflected my clenched fist.

I mercilessly drove my fist into their face.

Thud!

“Guh!”

A sound like a pig being slaughtered came from their mouth.

With how satisfying it felt to land a punch, I could understand why Evil Heaven enjoyed beating people up.

* * *

After venting my frustration, it felt as though ten years' worth of indigestion had finally cleared.

I felt incredibly refreshed.

- You turned the kid into mush.

The SoDam Sword clicked its tongue.

Jo Seong-won, reduced to a pulp from the beating, lay on the ground gasping for breath.

Still, I had shown some restraint.

I had not used internal energy, only pure physical strength.

'Hmm.'

I looked down at the battered bastard.

There were too many things that did not make sense.

Those trained as Spies, whether of the forces of justice or evil, had something in common.

If the situation turned bad, they killed themselves to prevent information from leaking.

Yet Jo Seong-won had done nothing but beg for their life throughout the beating.

- Maybe they just didn't want to die when it came down to it.

Well, that was possible.

Those particularly attached to life sometimes begged to be spared even if it meant exposing information.

Even so, this had come far too easily.

I had not even resorted to torture, such as pulling out fingernails.

Moreover, they had immediately threatened me once their identity was at risk of exposure. They were remarkably clumsy for a Spy.

'Strange.'

- What else is strange?

'The Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms.'

This Martial Arts technique was widely known throughout the martial world.

Jo Seong-won had learned the peerless palm art said to be practiced only by the Beggars' Sect Leader and their direct lineage.

- Then could this bastard be the beggar chief's heir?

I could not rule that out.

But was there any reason to use the Beggars' Sect's heir as a Spy?

Common sense said Spies were people close to being disposable at any time.

Sending an heir as a Spy? That made no sense.

- Hey. If you know the future, you know who the Beggars' Sect heir is, right?

I did.

That was why this was even stranger.

Before my regression, the Beggars' Sect heir was someone called Hong Geolgae, the leader of Bokhyeon Hall.

I had even seen their face.

'Hmm.'

Just who was this bastard?

- What are you thinking so hard about? Just ask.

'You're right.'

If they were attached enough to life to beg for it, they might open their mouth.

If not, I had another method.

“Hey. Beggar.”

“Eek!”

Perhaps flinching had become a reflex from all the beatings, because they shrank back without realizing it.

“I won't hit you.”

They looked at me suspiciously.

I crouched and met their eyes from closer up.

Having beaten them senseless, I had them thoroughly on edge.

They opened their mouth in a trembling voice.

“J-just who are you? How do you know my...”

They could not finish, but I understood.

Since I knew their identity, it was only natural for them to have questions.

After all, the only thing they knew about me was that I was the useless third son of the Yiyang So Clan.

I snorted and spoke to them.

“That is none of your business.”

They gritted their teeth at my words.

I controlled the situation. Why would I need to explain anything to them?

“I'll ask the questions. You only answer them.”

They pressed their lips shut and frowned.

Keeping them shut would not be good for them.

I had already decided what to ask, so I immediately got to the point.

“If you learned the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, you must belong to the Sect Leader's direct lineage... What is your identity?”

At the mention of the palm art, their eyes trembled slightly.

That should not have been so surprising.

Even without the Southern Heavenly Steel Sword, plenty of people would recognize that palm art when it was used.

Then again, that was likely why they had concealed it with Hao clan Martial Arts.

“You should speak if you don't want to die.”

At my threatening words, they bit their lip hard.

At least the fact that they could not leak information seemed firmly planted in their head.

“Phew.”

Grab! Thud!

I grabbed their hair and smashed their face into the ground.

They groaned in pain.

“Uuugh...”

“The tighter your mouth is, the more your body will suffer.”

Though groaning, they clenched their teeth.

They could endure this better than a beating, was that it?

Then should I change the question?

“Fine. What is your relationship with the Young Sect Leader, Hong Geolgae?”

If they had learned the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, I suspected they were at least fellow disciples.

But their expression twisted at my words.

They had seemed ready to endure anything until just now, yet they suddenly reacted.

I asked again.

“What is your relationship with Young Sect Leader Hong...”

'Huh?'

Then their eyes suddenly reddened.

It did not seem like sadness. Their emotions seemed to have risen out of resentment.

- What's wrong with this one?

How would I know?

“What are you doing right now?”

At my question, their body trembled as they spoke.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure about what...”

“Has he... Has he really become the Young Sect Leader?”

My eyes narrowed at those words.

There was anger in their voice.

I had assumed they were simply fellow disciples, but that did not seem to be the case.

- Then what?

'It seems this bastard competed with Hong Geolgae for the succession.'

- You mean they were rivals?

'Maybe.'

It seemed I had unintentionally touched on something that could make them talk.

A rough picture had formed, but I still could not be certain.

- But is that person even the Young Sect Leader right now?

'I don't know.'

- Huh? Then did you just lie?

Could I even call that a lie?

I did not know exactly when Hong Geolgae became the Young Sect Leader.

Before my regression, Hong Geolgae was over thirty. Since it was now ten years earlier, I had assumed they had likely already been chosen as heir. I had called them Young Sect Leader, and it had merely hit the mark.

“What is wrong with Hong Geolgae becoming the Young Sect Leader?”

“That fucking damned old man!”

At that moment, Jo Seong-won spat out a curse.

Their manner of speaking was so natural that this seemed to be how they normally talked.

Then again, Hong Geolgae and beggars alike had crude ways of speaking.

“He couldn't even wait one year...”

Tears welled in Jo Seong-won's angry eyes.

They seemed truly furious.

If things went well, I might be able to coax something out of them.

Pat, pat.

I released their hair and patted their back, speaking gently as if comforting them.

“Looks like you didn't know who became the Young Sect Leader.”

“Fuck.”

They cursed as tears rolled down their face.

Their emotions were heated enough now that I could test the waters.

“Did you compete with Hong Geolgae for the succession?”

They burst out in anger at my question.

“Who competed with who for the succession? That fucking bastard got made heir just because he's the old man's grandchild. Does that make any sense when the little shit can't even use Martial Arts for shit...”

Smack!

Before they could finish, I slapped them.

Then I put a finger to my lips.

“Keep it down. You're too loud.”

At my words, perhaps they had calmed down, for they took a deep breath.

Then they spoke in a much quieter voice.

“They... They are no heir. They trained for five years and barely learned ten palms of the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms. How could they be the Young Sect Leader?”

“And you've mastered them all?”

They fell silent at that.

Judging by their frown, they had not mastered them either.

“Then aren't you the same?”

I casually probed.

Their nostrils flared in resentment.

“...I couldn't learn them because that damned old man deliberately refused to teach me for the sake of that grandchild. If he'd only taught me the palm forms, I would have completed the palm art long ago.”

A little prodding, and they were telling me everything themselves.

They must have truly wanted the position of Young Sect Leader.

- They're still just a beggar, aren't they?

- Whatever someone becomes, wanting to lead is human nature.

The Southern Heavenly Steel Sword was right.

Even if there were only three people, humans chose a leader.

Having received Martial Arts from the Sect Leader, this bastard had naturally dreamed of becoming Sect Leader as well.

Now that I had heard this much, the picture mostly came together.

I spoke to the bastard, who could not contain their anger.

“So you did some clumsy spying to earn merit?”

'!!!'

Their expression, sharp breaths hissing from them, froze in an instant.

I seemed to have struck the mark precisely.

When they could not say anything, I voiced my guess.

“Unable to bear being pushed aside by blood relations, you infiltrated the Blood Cult to expose its stronghold or gather major intelligence. Am I wrong?”

“...”

“The martial artists' alliance is wary of the Blood Cult's revival, after all. Only something like this would get your merit recognized.”

They merely looked at me with a stiff expression.

Did they think staring would change anything?

“But what now? The Young Sect Leader has already been chosen. How will you earn recognition for your merit and become the Sect Leader's heir?”

“...”

“And do you think the Sect Leader or Young Sect Leader would simply leave you alone after you earned merit?”

“...What do you mean?”

They finally asked, eyes wide.

I gave them a faint smile and answered.

“You said the Sect Leader is desperate to hand the Beggars' Sect over to their grandchild. Do you think they would allow you to earn the Beggars' Sect's recognition through your merit?”

“I-if they don't leave me alone, what would they do?”

Their eyes trembled.

They understood roughly what I meant, so why pretend otherwise?

“For example, what if the Sect Leader leaked the whereabouts of you, who had been spying, to the Blood Cult?”

As I spoke, I made a slicing motion across my throat.

Their face turned pale.

“They could dispose of you without getting a single drop of blood on their hands. Right? Then the merit you earned would vanish into thin air. Ah, no. It would not disappear completely. You might be remembered as a mere sect disciple who acted as a Spy under the Sect Leader's orders. The merit itself would remain only with the Beggars' Sect.”

Their gaze grew complicated at my words.

They had to be deeply confused.

- Wow... You're incredible. That crazy old man's little schemes have nothing on you.

The SoDam Sword clicked its tongue in admiration.

- How did you even think of that? Look at that bastard's pupils shaking.

'No. This may be what will happen.'

- What will happen?

Thinking about it, Jo Seong-won had been hunted down and killed too easily before my regression.

The Beggars' Sect had enough influence in the martial world to be said to possess a hundred thousand sect disciples.

Would such a Beggars' Sect really let a Spy die so easily?

Especially one who had even inherited the Sect Leader's Martial Arts?

- You mean they deliberately let this bastard die?

'If my guess is correct.'

They had certainly been discarded.

Once a clear heir was chosen, the other contender was bound to be cast aside.

It was cruel, but the world we lived in was a sheet of thin ice.

Thud!

“Urgh!”

They slammed a fist into the floor.

My words seemed to have made the possibility feel real.

- So what will you do? Extract useful information and tell that old man? You might earn some merit.

'No.'

- Huh?

There was no need.

That had been my plan before I understood this bastard's circumstances.

If they were a card even the Beggars' Sect would discard, it would be a waste to use them only that way.

Why hand them over to the Blood Cult?

- Then what?

I smiled faintly and spoke to the devastated Jo Seong-won.

“Doesn't it feel unfair to end things like this?”

They looked up at me in confusion.

“That bastard Hong Geolgae becomes the Young Sect Leader, while you die here.”

Jo Seong-won's face darkened as if covered by a shadow.

They had to be beyond devastated, nearly despairing.

I spoke to them.

“I'll give you an opportunity.”

“...What do you mean?”

“I'll give you one gak. Sort out your thoughts by then.”

“Sort them out? What...”

“If you swear to follow me, I will act as though none of what we discussed ever happened.”

'!?'

Jo Seong-won's eyes widened.

I was giving them a choice.

I made my final move against the wavering bastard.

“Will you die as an unknown Beggars' Sect Spy? Or will you take revenge with me?”

Ripples spread through their eyes.

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