Dropped into Murim with an Instant-Kill Skill - Chapter 12

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Chapter 12: In the Jianghu, One Cannot Control One's Fate (1)

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Among Shinheung County's young experts were three men known as the Shinheung Three Dogs.

Three sons of bitches who ran around together, tormenting people across Shinheung County.

One was Mad Dog.

He had learned martial arts from Black Path fighters in the back alleys. With the least respectable background among them, he was also the weakest. Yet his temper was that of a rabid dog, and he was infamous for being the cruelest and most lawless of the three.

Another was Laughing Dog.

He was the youngest unit commander in the White Dragon Gang. Always high on Dream-Soul Powder, he wandered around with a foolish grin on his face.

He looked friendly enough, but he constantly offered Dream-Soul Powder to people around him and sold it too. He was Shinheung's greatest drug peddler.

Resentful Dog, Jeon Taegwang.

He was the youngest disciple of Shin Jae-eon, the Leader of the Severing Sword Sect, one of Shinheung County's three greatest masters.

Since his master was excellent, his martial arts were formidable as well. He acted as the leader of the Shinheung Three Dogs.

He had another epithet too.

People called the four direct disciples of the Leader of the Severing Sword Sect the Four Absolute Swords. The eldest was the Great Severing Sword, while the second and third were the Middle Severing Sword and the Lesser Severing Sword.

But Jeon Taegwang, the youngest, was called the Weak Severing Sword.

He was said to be especially weak for one of the Four Absolute Swords.

He held a deep resentment toward his master and senior brothers, and he vented it by committing every sort of evil outside the sect.

One day, while the three of them were roaming around and tormenting people as usual, they heard about Yeon Sowol.

"That Annam woodcutter, Yeon Sowol. Have you heard? They say he's become Great Hero Yi Yubaek's foster son."

"Is that true? That Annam woodcutter's life really turned around, huh?"

"I heard exactly what happened. Great Hero Yi Yubaek supposedly told him, 'Your talent is so exceptional that I cannot teach you. Instead, I will become your adoptive father and help you. Go out into the wider world and find another master to serve!'"

"Great Hero Yi Yubaek said that? Come on. Isn't he a true master recognized even in major cities like Danzhou and Bulsan? He admitted he wasn't good enough to teach someone?"

"That's why it's so shocking."

"Fuck off. What an exaggeration. He only entered martial arts at eighteen. As if that happened."

"How well do you know me to talk so damn rudely?"

"What? Got a problem? Are you upset?"

"You crazy bastard..."

"But isn't it even more impressive that he began martial arts at eighteen? Do you seriously not understand that?"

"It's impressive, but don't force the praise."

"Fuck. If we aren't going to praise someone who began martial arts at eighteen, was acknowledged by Shinheung's greatest master, and became his foster son, who are we supposed to praise?"

"What? Fuck? Want to die?"

"Ah. You heard that? I was talking to myself."

"You damned toad..."

"Ah, ah. If you're going to fight, go do it over there."

The voices had drifted over while they played cards.

The first to react to the story was Jeon Taegwang, Resentful Dog, who was always angry.

"What a load of bullshit. What do those ignorant bumpkins who don't know the first thing about martial arts expect from a bastard who started at eighteen? Do they know internal energy? Do they know what an inner cultivation method is? What? Yi Yubaek said he couldn't teach him because he himself was lacking? What kind of fucking nonsense..."

Laughing Dog grinned foolishly.

"Still, he became Yi Yubaek's sworn brother... no. Adopted... son? Hahaha. Why is that so hard? Anyway. Yeah. It seems that part's true. Wonder if he likes Dream-Soul Powder too?"

Mad Dog took a pinch of Dream-Soul Powder from Laughing Dog, snorted it up his nose, and sneered.

"Wow. He's made it. An Annam barbarian, yet he's found himself a rich father like Yi Yubaek."

At first, that was all the attention they gave it.

But wherever they went, they kept hearing Yeon Sowol's name.

"That Yeon Sowol. I heard Great Hero Yi Yubaek recognized him as second-rate."

"Second-rate? Does that make any sense?"

"I couldn't believe it either, so I asked someone from Windflow Martial Academy directly. They said it was true."

"No, that really makes no sense. My friend trained in martial arts like his life depended on it from the age of ten. He spent ten years doing nothing but training, only to be called third-rate, then he quit. But someone who began at eighteen is already second-rate?"

"Huh. If that's true, he's a genius. The kind that appears once in a hundred years. If only he'd started three years earlier!"

Resentful Dog suddenly exploded.

"Second-rate, my ass. When Yi Yubaek calls someone second-rate, doesn't that mean they've reached the Breathing Smoke into Clouds stage?"

"Right. Breathing Smoke into Clouds. No, Breathing... Smoke... Ugh. I'm hazy. Anyway, that."

"Does that make any fucking sense? That bastard's only been at it for half a year. What Breathing Smoke into Clouds? Do you think cultivating internal energy is a fucking joke?"

"Wow. Breathing Smoke into Clouds in half a year? How long did it take me to reach Breathing Smoke into Clouds? Around five years? Damn, what a genius. Starting at eighteen and reaching that level? Not a genius once in a hundred years. A genius once in a thousand."

Mad Dog gradually began sharing Resentful Dog's irritation.

His eyes flashed.

Even then, they kept hearing stories about Yeon Sowol. At inns, cockfighting rings, pavilions, markets, and wells.

"So is he going to become one of the Windflow Four Young Lords now?"

"Then what do we call that Yeon Sowol?"

"Let's see. The first is the Windflow Young Lord, the second the Gale Young Lord, and the third the Pure Breeze Young Lord. So Yeon Sowol would be..."

"He's the new guy, so how about New Young Lord?"

"That sounds like a bridegroom."

"Ah."

"Did you donate your brain to the Temple of National Grace?"

"That's harsh. You've wounded my feelings."

"Didn't ask."

"..."

"But does Yeon Sowol need an epithet at all? Can't we just call him that Annam woodcutter?"

"That's true."

"That Annam woodcutter is too long. Let's shorten it and call him Annam."

"You people are too much."

Resentful Dog's hand shook.

"An epithet? They're thinking up an epithet for a bastard who's only just begun martial arts?"

Resentful Dog felt like he was going mad with jealousy.

Fortunately, no proper epithet stuck. Still, the mere fact that someone had considered one for Yeon Sowol was enough to make his teeth grind.

Mad Dog felt the same way.

"Fuck. Seriously. I'm the one who crawled through shit pits, fighting tooth and nail to survive, and all they gave me was the epithet Mad Dog."

Laughing Dog still did not care much.

"Maybe that Annam guy loves Dream-Soul Powder too? That'd be nice. Then let's call him Dream-Soul Young Lord. Hehe."

The three dog bastards of Shinheung County each kept Yeon Sowol's name in their hearts in their own way.

* * *

Yi Yubaek said, "Sowol, resting is training too. Your essence, qi, and spirit have undergone greater changes in less than half a year than a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. Just imagine what state your body must be in. When iron is heated, it needs to cool before it hardens. For the next month, rest while doing only basic training. It would be best to take the spiritual elixir I gave you after a month, once you've begun learning a Movement Art."

And so Yeon Sowol's rest began.

At Windflow Martial Academy, he spent his time with Yi Yubaek, building a relationship as father and son.

The two got along even better than Yeon Sowol had expected.

"Sowol, try this on."

One day, Yi Yubaek brought him a white, unlined robe.

Yeon Sowol put on a pale blue wandering hero's outfit with neat sleeves and a close-fitting cut, then draped a thin white robe over it. The faint blue beneath showed through softly, giving him a remarkably refined appearance.

"How about this with it?"

Yi Yubaek held out a long, thin red silk sword cord.

"This is a silk sword cord. Here. Wrap it around your waist before putting on the robe, then tie the knot like this and hang your sword here. Hide the sword slightly beneath the robe's hem. You don't know how to use a sword yet, so I'll give you a wooden sword. I carved it myself from ebony."

Once he was dressed, Yeon Sowol looked at his reflection in a polished bronze mirror.

A white robe, with the faintest hint of blue showing through, draped over his shoulders. The open front revealed his very pale blue wandering hero's outfit. A dark red yet delicate silk cord encircled his waist, drawing the eye for a moment, while a jet-black wooden sword hidden beneath the robe hung from the cord, swaying in and out of sight.

He had grown his hair out considerably, and it was gathered up beneath a bamboo crown to complete the look.

Yi Yubaek had prepared all of it.

'Wow.'

Yeon Sowol looked himself over from every angle and kept marveling.

'This is silk, right? Actual silk. I never even got to wear it back in Korea.'

Here, people used different words for silk cloth, often calling it fine silk or simply silk. Especially thinly woven fabric like this was called gauze.

Clothes made of gauze were as light as paper.

The fabric rustled, yet it clung pleasantly to his hands, and its color had a subtle quality unlike anything he had ever seen.

'Is this what it's like to live like the rich?'

Satisfaction swelled in Yeon Sowol's chest.

Even in South Korea, he had dreamed of working hard and succeeding.

When he fell into this savage murim world, he thought he would never achieve that dream.

'It's not bad.'

Nice clothes. A nice house. A clean, fragrant environment.

It was pretty good.

At this rate, he thought he could live quite comfortably.

"Um. Head... ahem. No, Father."

"Yes, Sowol?"

The word father still felt awkward in his mouth, but Yeon Sowol had grown quite attached to Yi Yubaek by then. Yi Yubaek also treated Yeon Sowol more casually than before.

People with similar tastes quickly grew close.

"Father has given me clothes, medicinal herbs that let me wash properly, oils and ointments that make my skin and hair smooth. You've also taught me how to dress properly, how to wash well with those things, and how to apply them to my skin and hair."

"I did."

"I'm truly grateful. But there is one thing I am curious about."

"Stop circling around it and say it."

"Fragrance. Scents. Incense to burn, scents carried in sachets, fragrances applied to the body. Any kind. I've always wondered what fragrance you use. You never taught me that one thing, so I've remained curious."

Yeon Sowol's eyes shone.

Fragrance.

It was what he had become most obsessed with since falling into the murim.

This was a world overflowing with foul smells.

After arriving here, Yeon Sowol had come to understand deeply how thoroughly the twenty-first century had been surrounded by everyday fragrances.

Shampoo had a scent. So did laundry detergent, fabric softener, dish soap, and the air fresheners in bathrooms. Cleaning products for buildings and glass windows had scents, floor wax had scents, and even tap water had its own distinct smell. It deodorized things too.

Even excluding proper fragrance products like perfume, the twenty-first century had been a world filled with scents.

That was what the twenty-first century had been like.

Which was why Yeon Sowol had remained obsessed with fragrance ever since coming here.

Incense burned in a room and scents carried on the body were wards and talismans of a sort.

They were fragrant defensive barriers protecting him from the foul smells outside.

Hadn't he admired Yi Yubaek's faintly sweet lemon scent from the very first time they met?

Yeon Sowol wanted a fragrance like that too.

Yi Yubaek laughed.

"Sowol."

"Yes."

"You already smell good. It is thanks to your excellent Breathing Smoke into Clouds."

"That alone isn't enough to drive away the foul smells around me."

"Sowol."

"Yes."

"But proper fragrances are truly expensive. More expensive than gold of the same weight. That is how expensive they are. Expensive enough that I cannot easily give them away, even to my son."

It was a blunt answer, but Yeon Sowol was not embarrassed in the slightest.

He had never planned to shamelessly demand one from him in the first place.

"Then at least tell me about them. I have money too."

Yi Yubaek laughed again.

"A fragrance is a person's own distinct trace. Two people cannot share the same trace. I would rather teach you martial arts than tell you my fragrance."

Yeon Sowol was a little disappointed, but he did not show it.

'Right. It would be more meaningful to find my own fragrance myself. I should visit Elder Jo Manseok after a long time and ask his advice about scents.'

He made up his mind.

"I understand. Then I will find a fragrance of my own as well. One that will never lose to Father's."

"Yes. That is what you should do."

Yeon Sowol and Yi Yubaek's gazes collided fiercely in the air.

* * *

A street in Shinheung County.

A young man walked down the road.

He was unusually tall. His face was unusually handsome.

His robe billowed broadly around his long limbs, its sleeves and hem fluttering in the wind. Beneath it, one could catch a glimpse of a very pale blue wandering hero's outfit, a narrow red silk sword cord, and the black wooden sword hanging from it, barely visible beneath the robe.

His hair was gathered beneath a bamboo crown. The overall getup was one common people would not dare dream of wearing.

And whenever his robe fluttered, a lovely fragrance that could never be found on the streets drifted out.

"Wow..."

"What in the world?"

"He's really handsome."

"That's him, right? The one who became Great Hero Yi Yubaek's foster son."

"Yeah. Yeon Sowol from Annam."

"Even his walk is confident. His eyes are bright too. He seems like someone who has been raised properly."

"Wow. He lives in a completely different world from me."

The women stared in a daze, while the men looked at him with awe.

Then someone among them cried out.

"Elegant Young Lord, young hero. You look incredible."