Dropped into Murim with an Instant-Kill Skill - Chapter 5

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Chapter 5: Read a Book a Hundred Times and Its Meaning Reveals Itself (4)

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All kinds of stories flowed through the streets of Shinheung County.

Who beat whom. Where a fire had broken out. Who had committed adultery with whom.

The chatter ranged from incidents and scandals like those to political and current-affairs complaints: What does the county magistrate even do? What is the imperial court for? Isn't this outrageously unfair?

Recently, a new topic had joined the conversations in Shinheung County.

It was still small and trivial, but it was worth bringing up once in a while when there was nothing else to talk about.

"You know. Yeon Sowol."

"Who?"

"Yeon Sowol. That woodcutter from Annam."

"Ah... That foolish fellow?"

"Hm? Why do you say he's foolish?"

"Because he handed over thirty taels of gold to learn martial arts at his age. Isn't that foolish?"

"What are you talking about? If he reaches a realm, he'll earn back far more than that. He'll gain a skill that lets him live respected for the rest of his life... and you're worried about saving thirty taels of gold?"

"Oh, do you have thirty taels of gold? Then why are you still here? Why haven't you taken it straight to them?"

"Ahem. Well. I'm poor, so I don't have the money. And I have no talent for martial arts."

"And that young man does?"

"He must, if he paid thirty taels of gold."

"Honestly. Listen here. Even if he has talent, it's still nonsense. The other students at Windflow Martial Academy enter as disciples at ten or fifteen after paying three taels of silver. Does it make sense for him alone to enter after paying thirty taels of gold?"

"They only pay three taels of silver?"

"Only? Only three taels of silver? Are you rich?"

"No... That's not what I meant. Martial arts are just such an incredible thing."

"Is every martial art incredible? You have to master something on the level of the Windflow Three Young Lords, Yi Yubaek's direct disciples, before it can be called incredible. Most of the others don't even gain skill worth three taels of silver before they're done. That's true even for those who start young. Do you think a young man nearly twenty could manage it? Use your head and think about it, will you?"

"..."

"That Yeon Sowol fellow is especially too old. He'll need at least another ten years of training before he might even be called a third-rate martial artist. It could take thirty more years before anyone calls him second-rate. He'll probably never hold even three taels of gold in his life, much less thirty. So isn't he the biggest fool under heaven?"

"...Even so, that's too harsh. For a young man who came from far away with a dream. I heard his conduct is excellent, and that he's well educated."

"Educated or not, he's still a stupid, stinking barbarian. I'm only speaking the truth. The truth. No, can that bastard even endure Yi Yubaek's teaching in the first place? I hear Yi Yubaek's instruction is brutal."

"Why do you speak as if you know everything? You don't know Yeon Sowol well either. He must have his own reasons for doing this."

"My ass. He's just stupid. Are there only one or two stupid people in the world? Look around this marketplace. It's full of people who make you wonder how they manage to eat and stay alive. I guarantee it. That fellow will run away before a month passes. He threw thirty taels of gold straight onto the ground. He should've given it to me instead."

"..."

"Really, Yi Yubaek is too much as well. No matter how much he likes money, how could he just swallow that payment? This is why you can't trust Jianghu people. Great hero, my ass."

At the height of the criticism, someone who had been buying fish cakes nearby joined the conversation.

"Are you talking about Yeon Sowol? The one from Annam?"

"That's right. Why?"

"You're wrong."

"What?!"

The middle-aged man eating fish cakes spoke calmly to the man whose face had scrunched up in anger.

"I heard it from a friend who delivers firewood to Windflow Martial Academy. He said that Yeon Sowol killed three third-rate martial artists last night. All by himself."

"What? How can that be true? I heard he didn't know martial arts."

"It's true, apparently. They say Great Hero Yi Yubaek went to see the county magistrate carrying bottles of liquor first thing this morning to smooth things over. If you don't believe me, go check for yourself."

"Huh..."

The sharp-tongued man made a strangled sound, as though he had nothing left to say.

Then the man who had been quietly defending Yeon Sowol all along muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"Unbelievable. He was acting like he knew everything. What was it? That it'd take ten years before he might become third-rate? But that man already killed three third-rate martial artists. Hah. Really. People in the marketplace are scary, scary. Spouting nonsense like they know it all. Good grief."

"..."

The sharp-tongued man lowered his head and left.

The man eating fish cakes watched his retreating back with a snicker.

"That kind of bastard manages to eat and live too, huh?"

* * *

After breakfast, Yeon Sowol paid Yi Yubaek his morning respects.

When Yi Yubaek told him to ask whatever he was curious about, he cautiously asked,

"I killed people yesterday. Won't the government office come looking for me?"

By twenty-first-century common sense, that was only natural.

If someone killed three people in the middle of a city, there should obviously be an investigation.

If this had happened in South Korea, he would have gone to prison for mutual assault, negligent homicide, or murder.

Yet Yi Yubaek answered as though it were nothing.

"There is a saying in the Central Plains. Noninterference Between Officials and Martial Artists."

"...The government and the martial world do not encroach on each other. I suppose the martial world holds tremendous power."

Yeon Sowol was deeply shocked.

The vague image that came to mind was the American Wild West.

People used to duel and shoot each other dead, and businessmen would shoot one another over selling stocks, apparently.

'But still, you can just kill people in a city like this? Just because you're a martial artist?'

Not having to take responsibility was certainly nice, but something about it still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

By that logic, wasn't this a world where armed thugs outside the law could do whatever they wanted?

'Can that really be okay? Is this world really all right like this?'

Seeing Yeon Sowol's complicated expression, Yi Yubaek smiled gently.

"Yes. That's why I'm going to visit the county magistrate today, treat him to good liquor, and offer him about one tael from the gold you gave me. Then everything will be fine."

"..."

Yeon Sowol could only ask inwardly,

'Excuse me?'

They would resolve it by entertaining him with liquor and offering gold?

'Then isn't that not Noninterference Between Officials and Martial Artists, but collusion between them?'

Yi Yubaek continued.

"If you want to live as a Jianghu martial artist, remember this well. In Jianghu, knowing how to conduct yourself matters more than anything. Do you want to roam Jianghu freely? Then you must always read the room. You must know when to stand your ground and when to suck up. Take it to heart. The Movement Art you want to learn is ultimately a skill built on the same principle."

There was a profound mystery in the teachings of Great Hero Yi Yubaek, Shinheung's foremost martial artist. Yeon Sowol was deeply impressed.

'So Jianghu people are thugs, specifically the kind who have connections in political circles.'

On impulse, Yeon Sowol asked,

"Academy Master, then what is Jianghu? Who are Jianghu people?"

Yi Yubaek answered,

"Those who live according to their station in a nation established by law are called commoners. Those who live as their hearts desire, following rivers and lakes, are called Jianghu people."

Yeon Sowol nodded.

'As I thought. They really are thugs.'

Then he realized something else.

'Even if I fail now, getting my gold yuanbao back will be difficult...'

It might have been a cheap price to pay for avoiding prison, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

* * *

Yeon Sowol renewed his resolve.

'This place is uncivilized and filthy. It even has a class system. I can't live an ordinary life in a place like this. Living here is horrifying enough, but there are too many dangerous things as well.'

What, then, should he do?

'I need to live like a thug who can half-ignore the class system. In other words, like a Jianghu martial artist. Even if they're thugs, people don't think too badly of them. Academy Master Yi Yubaek seems respected in this region, at least. Yes. I should live like that too, safely in a manor of my own, recognized by those around me, living cleanly with fragrant incense burning.'

To do that,

'Elder Jo Manseok said that if I had talent, it would take at least three to five years to become a third-rate martial artist. Then I'll make it exactly three years. I'll work myself to death and become a third-rate martial artist within three years, no matter what. After that, I'll take the Greater Rejuvenation Pill and leave for a bigger city. I'll seek proper instruction there. I need to be called at least first-rate if I want to live like Academy Master Yi Yubaek.'

He had made his goal clear.

He had prepared himself.

'No matter how painful it is, I'll endure to the end. I won't break. If I'm not dead, I'll keep moving. I will become a third-rate martial artist here at Windflow Martial Academy and take the Greater Rejuvenation Pill.'

Thus began his second day of training.

It was not Yi Yubaek who beat him senseless today.

It was the youngest of the three disciples treated as special among Yi Yubaek's students, the ones known as the Windflow Three Young Lords.

His name was Mo Cheong.

He was the same age as Yeon Sowol.

He was a head and a half shorter than Yeon Sowol.

That was because Mo Cheong was rather short even by this era's standards, while Yeon Sowol, who would have stood tall even in South Korea, was extraordinarily tall by the standards here.

Even so, Mo Cheong thrashed Yeon Sowol as easily as Yi Yubaek had.

He moved so smoothly that Yeon Sowol could not react to everything in time.

"Urgh!"

Whoosh!

Whenever he dodged once, his hair scattered through the air.

Wham!

With his posture broken, he could not block the next blow, and his head rang.

Crash!

Watching Yeon Sowol fall hard, Mo Cheong tilted his head.

"What? Why are you so good at dodging?"

Yeon Sowol could hardly believe what he was hearing.

'Good at dodging? My bones ache and my muscles feel like they're tearing apart.'

As Yeon Sowol groaned and got to his feet, Mo Cheong looked at him with concern.

"It hurts a lot, doesn't it? Do you want to rest a little? We usually take it easier when we're training among ourselves. My senior brothers and I all did. Besides, Master said he was planning to make this afternoon even harder than yesterday. You should rest for now."

Mo Cheong meant it.

From what he had seen, Yeon Sowol had been beaten far too much yesterday.

Yeon Sowol was strangely good at avoiding attacks, and perhaps Master had gotten excited by that, because he hit him even more than usual.

Then, during the night, Yeon Sowol had fought a life-or-death battle against knife-wielding thieves...

Mo Cheong could not begin to imagine his pain and exhaustion.

Even so, Master had happily said that Yeon Sowol had a hidden trick up his sleeve. He had even declared that today's instruction would be harsher.

From Mo Cheong's perspective, knowing that pain himself, it was hard not to feel sorry for him.

That was why he sincerely advised him to rest. A little well-timed slacking was necessary to endure harsh training.

Yet Yeon Sowol flinched in surprise at those words.

'This could be a trap.'

He remembered a video he had watched on WeTube.

In videos where people experienced special forces training, the instructors always said things like this.

"Ring the bell. Go ring it and you'll feel better, right? Just ring it and rest. Are you stupid? Why are you doing this?"

Ringing the bell during special forces training meant giving up.

The situation was somewhat different, but Yeon Sowol thought it was basically the same thing.

'They might be gently tempting me into slacking off so they can use it as an excuse to fail me later.'

That way, they could take his gold yuanbao without teaching him much at all.

He did not want to believe they would pull such a scummy move, but this was Jianghu, a lawless world. Yeon Sowol would not let down his guard.

He would not do anything that could become a weakness.

He would train so hard and suffer so visibly that everyone in the world would know it.

If this place was China, then they would care about appearances. And if they cared about appearances, they could not fail someone who had worked genuinely hard for an absurd reason.

Yeon Sowol raised his body, which felt as though it might break apart.

He forcibly smoothed out the expression twisted by pain.

"No. I'll continue. Please let me continue."

He straightened his clothes and took his stance.

His body was filthy with bruises, dust, and stains.

Still, as Yeon Sowol calmly stretched out his long arms and legs and settled into position, there was an air about him that could only be called dignity.

'He wants to continue? In that condition?'

To Mo Cheong, who was the same age as him, the sight was deeply impressive.

A spirit that did not compromise with the world.

A spirit that did not deceive itself.

A truly lofty bearing.

A pure, noble presence unlike ordinary people who lived in the dust.

'Is this what it means to feel no shame before Heaven when looking up, and no shame before others when looking down?'

To have nothing to fear before Heaven above,

And nothing to hide from people below.

It was something Yi Yubaek, who loved Confucius and Mencius, said all the time.

Today, those words struck Mo Cheong as especially cool.

"...All right. Then I'll be more serious too."