WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Alyo

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◈ Memoir of a Regressor ◈

Chapter 1: Prologue, Return

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It felt as though I had dreamed.

The days when I was still so young.

There was the man called my father, though I often doubted we even shared blood, and my mother, whom I had only ever seen in portraits because she died the moment I was born.

There were good memories, but most were bad.

I was an illegitimate son of the Yi Clan. With no backing to speak of, I was pushed around from every side and lived unable to hold my head high.

I had never done anything particularly offensive.

Even so, my two older brothers, who would stop at nothing to claim the position of Young Clan Head, along with First Mother and Second Mother behind them, saw me as a thorn in their sides.

At first, they tried every trick imaginable to drive me out. Later, they even attempted to have me assassinated.

All of it remained vivid in my mind.

They were memories I could never forget, and those humiliating memories were what made me who I was now.

Thirty years later, I had become the [Mad Venerable], one of the Three Emperors and Seven Venerables.

I could not tell which life had been the dream, this one or that one.

I vividly remembered the moment of my death as well.

The Heavenly Emperor's hand pierced my heart, the Flame Emperor's fist shattered my dantian, and the Saber Venerable's saber cut my right arm.

A pool of blood had spread beneath my fallen body.

Some of it was mine, but not all of it.

Most belonged to the Heavenly Dragon Divine Emperor, the Twin-Handed Demon Venerable, and the Heaven-Shaking Spear Venerable, who had already been beheaded.

That was right.

Six of the Ten Greatest Masters Under Heaven had gathered just to kill me.

They told me this.

"Had we not learned that you were the disciple of the Martial World's Public Enemy, this would never have happened."

There had been someone who took me in after I fled the Yi Clan.

I learned many things from my master. How to survive, how to move quickly, how to use my fists better, how to wield a sword, and how to exploit an opponent's openings.

It was a hellish time, but it had been meaningful.

I spent only ten years with my master, but those ten years were the most meaningful of my life.

My master told me:

"When you enter the martial world, never tell anyone that you are my disciple."

I said no.

"How can you refuse your master's request so firmly?"

My master smiled faintly around a smoking pipe.

"This is the first and last request I will make of you. Keep it."

Then my master quietly passed away in my arms.

I kept that promise.

Yet there was no such thing as an eternal secret.

The martial arts I used.

I had tried to use the secret arts I learned from my master as sparingly as possible, but I could not keep them hidden even in moments of crisis.

That was how they found the trail. My master had been far too famous, so no matter how hard I tried to silence people, I could not stop the rumors.

I had already been called the Martial World's Public Enemy in several parts of the realm before then, but I still felt sorry about it.

I was not trying to blame my master.

I had never acted with regret, and I became the Martial World's Public Enemy solely because of my own actions.

My master had nothing to do with it.

As one of the Three Emperors and Seven Venerables, I ruled supreme over the realm. I killed those who plotted against me, killed those who stabbed me in the back, and fought those who pretended to walk the Orthodox Path while harboring and worshipping the Demonic Way.

Still, because I had never built a power base, I was bound to be overwhelmed eventually.

It was a trap laid through meticulous planning, and I, the fool, fell into it.

I will say it again. Six of the Ten Greatest Masters Under Heaven gathering to bring down one of the Seven Venerables?

How was I supposed to predict that? No, I could not have even imagined it.

Those bastards were not the sort to work together so well.

That had been my end.

I silently stared into the full-length mirror.

Not one of the countless scars etched across my body like tattoos remained.

There was even baby fat on my face, where it had no business being.

I was going insane.

I tried to make sense of this absurd phenomenon with everything I had.

Why had this happened?

...

One thing bothered me.

Before my master died, my master had given me a necklace. It was a keepsake, and I had worn it around my neck until the moment before I died.

It was an old necklace without so much as a single gemstone attached to it.

Then my master's words suddenly came back to me.

"One day, this will save you once. Live without regret."

I ran a hand down my face.

Given the circumstances, this was reality. It seemed reasonable to conclude that I had returned to the past thanks to the necklace my master left behind.

I could resolve those questions later.

I raised my head.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I smiled faintly.

The morning of my first day back in the past had dawned.

* * *

"Young Master. Are you awake?"

At the sudden voice, I turned my head. A smile formed on my lips.

I answered briefly.

"Come in."

The door opened. A man with a build nearly identical to mine entered with a plate piled high with refreshments, smiling brightly.

"I thought you might be hungry, so I prepared some refreshments."

He approached.

I could forget everything else, but I could never forget him.

His name was Pyeong Sam.

His parents had lived as slash-and-burn farmers until they were killed by a bandit gang, after which the Yi Clan took him in.

"Pyeong Sam."

"Yes, Young Master."

"It's been a long time."

"...What?"

I smiled without a word. He looked at me strangely, then slowly continued.

"I think we'll reach the main residence today. You've successfully completed the trade journey, so won't the Clan Head see you differently now?"

It was certainly not the sort of thing a mere porter should say. Still, Pyeong Sam and I had known each other for a very long time.

At this point, I was about seventeen years old.

He was sixteen. We were only a year apart, and since the Yi Clan had taken him in when he was nine, we had been together for nearly seven years.

How much did I trust him?

When I fled the Yi Clan in the past, I had even fled with him.

I silently reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Pyeong Sam."

"...Yes, Young Master."

"There's something I really want to ask you. You need to answer carefully."

"Answer... how...?"

"Don't think too deeply. Just answer truthfully."

"...Yes. Ask me anything."

I gave him a gentle smile.

"A bandit gang will appear along our route. What do you think about that?"

He flinched. His gaze wavered wildly.

I had hoped for something.

For what he would say.

But perhaps that hope had been pointless.

"...I don't know. But a bandit gang? We're going to Myeongwolsan. Weren't all the bandits of Myeongwolsan wiped out long ago? I think you're worrying over nothing."

My questions were not over.

"Have you received any separate orders from Yi Jeong?"

"...The Eldest Young Master? You know you're the person I trust most in this Yi Clan. You know perfectly well how the Eldest Young Master treats you, so why would I take orders from him? What kind of joke is that?"

I quietly watched him.

"From the beginning of the trade journey to its end, when you reported its progress to Yi Won, what reply did he send you?"

"...Young Master. You know my relationship with the Second Young Master, too. Yi Won does not tell me anything separately. He knows whose man I am. I belong only to you, Young Master. I don't understand why you're suddenly asking me these questions."

I let out a quiet sigh.

"After the three questions I asked, you still failed to answer even one properly."

"...Young Master?"

"By this point, you and I have completed more than ten trade journeys together. Of those ten, you reported to Yi Won at least eight times along the way. This journey was no different. The amount at stake in this one was especially large. If I succeeded, then yes, as you said, Father's attitude toward me would change considerably. This was a trade journey I had been sent on to fail from the beginning."

"..."

"When you reported by carrier pigeon today, Yi Won probably replied with something like this. He had hired bandits, and they would attack near Myeongwolsan, where our caravan would pass. We would lose every possession and barely keep our lives. Why would they not kill us? Isn't it obvious? Losing merchandise and having a blood relative die, even if he is illegitimate, are clearly different matters. If I died, would the Clan Head stand by and do nothing? They made the best possible choice. As you said, if this plan succeeds, my standing in the clan will change greatly. Pyeong Sam."

"...Yes."

"I gave you not one, but three chances. How could you fail to see that?"

Only now did he realize my manner of speaking had changed. He wore a bewildered expression, clearly trying to understand this situation with that small head of his.

It was pointless.

I silently took the plate from his hands.

"A disaster caused by man ought to be cleaned up by human hands."

"Young Mas..."

He could not finish.

I had struck him in the head with the plate.

Crack!

I had not hit him with the bottom of the plate.

I had used its edge.

Clutching his head in pain, he collapsed to the floor. The refreshments scattered around him.

I kicked him.

Thud!!

His head snapped to the side.

It was not enough.

I slammed the plate onto the nearby table. It shattered.

The broken plate left an improvised weapon in my hand.

I grabbed his hair with my left hand, then drove it in.

Squelch!

"Keugh."

The shard lodged in the side of his neck. Blood burst out and soaked my face, but I did not even blink.

"You don't remember, but there were two times I tried to flee the Yi Clan."

His trembling hands grabbed my arm, but it meant nothing.

My arm did not budge.

I had already acted. Once I started, I had to see it through to the proper end.

His will to live could not overcome my will to act.

"Y-Young Master... why..."

Ignoring him, I continued calmly.

"The first attempt ended in failure. Because you stabbed me in the back."

"...What?"

"I could not flee empty-handed, so I entered Yi Jeong's residence, took a chest full of elixir pills, and ran. Yet I was caught before even a day had passed. Do you know why?"

"How would I...?"

"I just told you. You stabbed me in the back. Back then, you said this to me. 'Young Master, honestly, what chance do you think you have of becoming the master of the Yi Clan? You've never helped anyone before, so I hoped you would help me this time. I've served you well at your side all this while, so wouldn't it be all right for me to take that much?'"

I savored those words again.

That was when I first realized what kind of place the martial world was.

It had been quite the educational experience.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to laugh.

"How shocking must it have been for me to remember it even now? And from that day on, you became the youngest General Steward of the Yi Clan."

"What are you..."

"People never change."

After pausing for a moment, I pushed the shard deeper and continued.

"Goodbye."

No reply came.

The shard had completely pierced his neck.

Thud. His corpse crumpled limply to the floor.

I stood up.

A few martial artists of the Yi Clan entered after hearing the commotion.

"Young Master! What is...!"

They gaped when they saw what had happened inside.

I spoke calmly.

"Clean this up."

Truly.

It was a refreshing morning.

Footnotes:

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