WeTried Translations

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Invincible Mumu

Chapter 39

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Roll Call (1)

"Muscle... Training School?"

Most of the third-year floor leaders had the same thought running through their heads.
What in the world kind of ridiculous name for a school was that?
It was Baek Seon-ui, one of the third-year floor leaders, who finally said it out loud.

"Are you joking with us right now?"

Sure, he was a descendant of one of the Four Immortal Masters and the dorm head, and deserved respect for that. But he was still a junior, in the end.
Even a joke had its limits.

"It's no joke."
"That's supposed to be a real school?"

Hang Mi-hye of the Beggar's Sect, one of the female third-year floor leaders of Northern Heaven Residence, propped her chin on her hand and asked.

"Senior Hang."
"I've never heard of any school like that."

The Beggar's Sect was, alongside the Hao clan, one of the two great information networks.
Coming from that background, she was sharp when it came to information.

'Pretty.'

Jin-hyeok thought to himself.
The Beggar's Sect was made up entirely of beggars, so their clothes always looked shabby, but her figure was full and alluring, making her seem more mature than the other cadets around her.
She really was popular within Changcheon Martial Academy.
It wasn't just her looks. Her martial arts skill was outstanding too, and she was the Eight-Knot successor being groomed to become only the second female chief in the history of the Beggar's Sect.

"Senior. The Muscle Training School was founded by Master Mumu here."
"What?"

At his words, the third-year floor leaders stirred with murmurs.
How could a freshman who'd just walked through the gates be the founder of a school?
If that were true, he'd have to be treated as a school's own founding master.
Baek Seon-ui let out a sigh and said,

"Dorm head. Isn't this joke going a bit too far? If you're trying to haze the new kid, fine, but there's a limit..."
"It's true, though."

Right then, Mumu spoke up with a smile on his face.
Baek Seon-ui snorted, his face full of contempt.

"Hey, junior. Where did you learn the habit of cutting in while your seniors are talking?"

At this, Mumu tilted his head and answered.

"Why would seniors be like the sky?"
"...Are you trying to play word games with me right now?"
"No."

Baek Seon-ui let out a heavy sigh and looked at Do Yang-woon, the dorm head.

"Hoo. Dorm head. Is this some kind of setup to whip the juniors into shape today?"

Right then Jin-hyeok stood up, folded his hands in a formal salute, bowed his head, and spoke to Baek Seon-ui.

"Senior. Please forgive Mumu's rudeness. My sworn brother Mumu has lived alone in the mountains for a long time without contact with people, so he's a little lacking when it comes to dealing with others. But he means no harm, he's simply straightforward. I ask for your generous understanding."

As he said this, Jin-hyeok shot Mumu a sharp look.
It meant, read the room and stop interrupting.

'Are you trying to pick fights with our seniors from day one?'

There was nothing to gain from clashing with seniors they'd have to spend the next two, three years alongside.
Jin-hyeok's quick save wasn't entirely useless.

"Hmph."

Baek Seon-ui had meant to lose his temper, but he wasn't quite that unreasonable either.

"You two are sworn brothers? You picked yourself a good one. If not for him, you'd have been bleeding from places you don't want to talk about after today's little disciplining."
"Bleeding from places..."

'Stop it!'

At the shape of Jin-hyeok's mouth silently mouthing the words, Mumu shut his mouth.
Thinking he'd finally settled things, Jin-hyeok bowed his thanks and sat back down.
Honestly, being around Mumu turned every situation into walking on thin ice.

'I'm not his babysitter.'

He clicked his tongue inwardly.
But Jin-hyeok hadn't quite noticed something himself.
That somewhere along the way, he'd started stepping in and cleaning up after Mumu's messes without even thinking about it.

Clap, clap!

Right then, dorm head Do Yang-woon clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention.

"Now then. Seniors. Do you remember the joyful memories we shared training together all last year?"

At his words, every floor leader's face twisted.

'Joyful memories?'
'You mean training an hour every single day after roll call?'
'Is he seriously trying to bring that back?'

Some of the floor leaders might have genuinely enjoyed it, but not all of them.
If it hadn't been for the wholehearted support of the seniors who'd since graduated and moved on, none of them would have gone along with Do Yang-woon's training in the first place.
Do Yang-woon placed a hand over his thick chest and said,

"I believed I'd trained plenty hard last year, but it turns out that wasn't true at all. Compared to Master Mumu here, it was nothing, a drop in the bucket."
"......"
"You've all been calling this a joke since earlier, but I've already become a disciple of Master Mumu's Muscle Training School."

'...I can't deal with this.'

By strange coincidence, everyone in the room had the exact same thought.
If anyone else had said it, they'd have written it off as a joke, but this stiff, humorless dorm head was the kind of man people called a corpse the moment you stripped away his seriousness.
Right then, Woo Hoo-chi, a third-year who'd been sitting with his arms crossed listening quietly, finally spoke.

"Dorm head. Last year, the upperclassmen were still around, so nobody said much. But if you want to train your muscles, do it yourself."
"Senior Woo."
"You understand that even as dorm head, you can't force anyone into individual training, right?"
"Well, that's true, but if you took training under Master Mumu, you'd never regret..."
"Listen. Whatever strength you can get from muscle training has its limits anyway. That stuff's only good for looking pretty. If you've got time for that, you should be spending it on internal energy cultivation instead..."
"Maybe that's just because your muscle training's been half-hearted?"

Right then, Mumu cut in.
Jin-hyeok tried to stop him, but this time dorm head Do Yang-woon pressed a hand lightly on his shoulder and shook his head.
It meant, watch.
At that, Woo Hoo-chi, the third-year floor leader, twisted his face with fury.

"What? Half-hearted?"
"Yeah. Looking at you, seems like you've been slacking on training lately. You've lost some muscle."
"Lost some muscle? What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"

Bang!

Woo Hoo-chi slammed the table hard and shot up from his seat.
Then he scoffed, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard, and stepped toward Mumu.

"Hey. Freshman. Unlike the other guys here, I came from a dark path school once, so I don't have much patience."

At the sight of Woo Hoo-chi like this, the floor leaders shook their heads.

'Of all the people to pick a fight with...'
'That guy's a nightmare once he's angry.'

Wrong target, wrong day.
Unlike Baek Seon-ui, Woo Hoo-chi had come from the Xinyang Tyrant Blade School and had since switched over to the force of justice, but true to his old dark path roots, his temper still ran hot and violent.
There were maybe three people in this room who could even hope to rein him in.
But dorm head Do Yang-woon had no intention of stopping him, Hang Mi-hye of the Beggar's Sect just watched with obvious interest, and Ja Muk-hyun, ranked among the top five third-year cadets, seemed completely uninterested, still flipping through a book even now.

Rrrip!

Woo Hoo-chi tore off his upper garment.
His broad, muscular chest came into view.
Not quite Do Yang-woon's level, but he'd clearly put real effort into building himself up, enough to look impressive.

"Kid. Does this look like half-hearted muscle to you?"
"Looks decent, but just like you said, it really is muscle that's just for show."
"Ha!"

Woo Hoo-chi's face flushed red.
This nobody kid just kept talking back, and he couldn't stand it anymore.
Woo Hoo-chi spoke loud enough for all the floor leaders to hear.

"I'm warning you now. If even one of you steps in, I'm not taking sixth floor roll call this year."

At that, the floor leaders' faces twisted.
Something about their expressions looked uneasy.
Jin-hyeok couldn't help but wonder at their reaction.

'What's going on with them?'

Meanwhile Woo Hoo-chi stepped up to Mumu and said,

"Get up if you don't want to get hurt."

At his words, Mumu scratched his head and rose from his chair.
Then Woo Hoo-chi grabbed the collar of Mumu's shirt.

"Muscle Training School? Let's see just how great these fabled muscles of yours really are."

With those words, Woo Hoo-chi ripped Mumu's shirt clean off.

Rrriiip!

Mumu's upper body, now bare, came into full view.
Woo Hoo-chi's eyes wavered at the sight.

'What?'

He'd figured whatever nonsense this Muscle Training School was, it couldn't be much. But faced with the staggering density of Mumu's upper body muscle, he lost his words for a moment.
A pectoral major with veins standing out like ropes, an abdomen that looked like a washboard, deltoids flared wide open like wings.
There wasn't a single flaw to pick at anywhere.

Drip.

'Gulp.'

Hang Mi-hye wiped away a bit of drool with her sleeve.
She hadn't expected much, but who would've guessed that behind that adorable face lay a body of such savage, sculpted muscle?

'Oh my.'

The other female floor leaders were just as awestruck, some of them clapping a hand over their mouths.
Mumu's muscles were nothing short of a marvel.

'...What is this guy?'
'What kind of muscles are those...'

The male floor leaders were equally stunned.
They'd already seen Mumu's calf muscles out on the plaza, but now that they'd seen his entire upper body, it hit them for certain.
Whatever they'd been calling muscle training up to this point had just been child's play.
Set Mumu's body next to Woo Hoo-chi's right now, and the gap was staggering.
Almost embarrassing to stand this close to him.
Mumu spoke to the still-stunned Woo Hoo-chi.

"You'll pay me back for the shirt, right?"

At Mumu's words, Woo Hoo-chi snapped back to his senses.
He'd been so stunned by the muscle that he'd lost his words for a moment, but if he backed down and admitted defeat here, what would happen to his pride?

"That's... that's decent enough, sure, but muscle like that is nothing but show, in the end. You think you can actually do anything with muscles, no matter how much time you spend building your body?"

At Woo Hoo-chi's words, Mumu answered without missing a beat.

"I'd say I've probably got more than whatever that internal energy of yours amounts to."
"What?"
"Training your muscles makes you stronger."

At that, Woo Hoo-chi let out a snort.
He'd wondered what the kid was about to say, and here it was, some line about getting stronger.

"Hey. Rookie. Is that all?"
"Ah! Your body gets tougher too."
"Your body gets tougher?"
"Yeah. You basically stop getting hurt so easily."

Thump, thump!

Mumu lightly thumped his own chest with his fist as he spoke.
Woo Hoo-chi let out a scoff, then raised a fist hardened with years of training and said to Mumu,

"Then you should be able to take my punch and shrug it off."
"I could probably take it, sure."
"Oh yeah? Then don't use internal energy. Take my punch with nothing but those precious muscles of yours. If you actually manage it, I'll admit every word you said was true."

At that, Hang Mi-hye of the Beggar's Sect cut in.

"Woo Hoo-chi. That's enough now. This is going too far."
"Too far? You heard what he said too. Train your muscles, body gets tougher, you don't get hurt so easily, he said it himself."
"You know that's not what he meant."
"You know you can't just throw words around carelessly, right? If he wants us joining this Muscle Training School or whatever it's called, he should show us something worth learning for."
"You need to stop right now. If you keep this up..."
"That's enough, seniors."

Right then, dorm head Do Yang-woon stepped in.
He'd wanted to spark some motivation by showing off Mumu's muscles, but this had spiraled further than he'd intended.
Mumu's muscles were remarkable, sure, and his training alone had earned him strength approaching that of an Expert master. But Woo Hoo-chi wasn't an ordinary master either.
A third-year cadet at the academy, with Force of ki already at the very peak of Expert level.
Without training in Martial Arts, Mumu could still get hurt.

'He could get hurt.'

If an enraged Woo Hoo-chi struck Mumu with everything he had, there was no telling what might happen.
That was exactly why this needed to end here.

"The idea was for all of us to properly train under Master Mumu this year to finally beat Western Wind Residence, but if that idea bothers you this much, there's no need to force..."
"Force? Hold on. Dorm head. I said I'd gladly join this Muscle Training School if this kid can actually back up his own words. He wasn't just talking out of his ass, was he?"

At Woo Hoo-chi's jab, Do Yang-woon's eyes sharpened.
He'd been holding back out of courtesy, given the man had been chosen by the previous dorm head and was a senior, but if this kept escalating, he had no intention of letting it slide gently anymore.

"That's enough..."
"So if I take it and stand my ground, you're joining the Muscle Training School?"
"Master Mumu!"

Do Yang-woon tried to stop him.
But Mumu just smiled and said,

"Dorm head. I really would love to have Senior Woo Hoo-chi here as a disciple of the Muscle Training School."
"But Master Mumu, if this goes wrong..."
"Ah, it's fine."

Mumu moved away from the meeting table, putting some distance between them.
Then he tapped his own chest and said,

"Go ahead. Senior."

He hadn't meant it as a taunt, not really.
But at Mumu's words, thrusting out his chest and telling him to just hit it, the veins on Woo Hoo-chi's forehead bulged and throbbed.

'I'm putting this kid in the infirmary for a good while.'

Any thought of holding back vanished completely.
He needed to see Mumu cough up blood and collapse right now, or he wasn't going to feel right.
Woo Hoo-chi snorted and stepped up in front of Mumu.
Then he said,

"Rookie. It's too late for regrets. You brought this on yourself."
"Ah! I just remembered something, maybe..."
"Remembered what!"

Standing there bare-chested and about to take a hit, the kid looked scared, apparently, but backing out now wouldn't do him any good.
Woo Hoo-chi drove his fist straight into Mumu's chest.
He'd already circulated his ki up to eighty percent Force of ki.

Thud! Crack!

'Heh. All of this, you brought on your... huh?'

A monstrous pain shot up rapidly from his fingers.
Something had definitely just broken.
But it wasn't Mumu's ribs that made that sound.

"W-Woo Hoo Chi, your wrist!"

Hang Mi-hye cried out in shock.
At her scream, Woo Hoo-chi looked down at his own wrist with trembling eyes.

'!?'

His wristbone had bent so far it looked ready to punch straight through the skin.
The man who'd been hit stood there perfectly fine, while the one who'd thrown the punch was the one left injured, a bizarre sight that left every floor leader in the room speechless.
Mumu scratched his head and muttered.

"...I was going to warn you your wrist might dislocate, but I didn't get the chance."

Mumu really had meant to give him a friendly heads-up.

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