Abolition of the Wicked - Chapter 30

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#Episode 030

Even if the energy of fist and palm hadn’t yet transcended a single span, Geom U-bin would surely be the only Murim martial artist to have produced energy from Kwon-gak at twelve years old.
Jang Man-dok’s mouth had been half-open since before the Double Hour began, watching Geom U-bin train.
Two Double Hours had already passed since Geom U-bin began training while pouring out Kwon-gi. Two Double Hours—enough time to reduce someone to exhaustion through mere movement alone.
‘His current Internal Power is at the first rank level, yet he’s training like that for two Double Hours—which means his Hyeol-geom Art has reached the seventh stage!’
Because he was still young, not all of the elixir he’d consumed had been absorbed into his body; his Internal Power remained at the first rank level.
From now on, even simple Un-gi Haenggong would cause Geom U-bin’s Internal Power to accumulate at a remarkably rapid pace as he aged.
What truly astounded Jang Man-dok was the density of Geom U-bin’s Internal Power.
An ordinary first rank level Internal Power wouldn’t endure even one Double Hour of fist technique training while carrying full Kwon-gi.
Yet Geom U-bin had already completed two Double Hours and showed every sign of continuing for another two. The solidity of his Internal Power was proof that directly reflected his achievement in the Hyeol-geom Art.
‘I thought it would take five years at the earliest, but if all goes well, he might complete closed-door training in three years.’
With Hyeol-geom Art at the eighth stage combined with the Bloodwind Four Lions technique Geom U-bin currently wielded, he would be more than worthy of being called a first-class master in Murim.
‘He might leave our care sooner than expected.’

***

“That wind energy felt unusual—and indeed it was.”
Seo Seok-san nodded.
“So senior will emerge around this time next year, then.”
Do Pyeong-su spoke.
“What if he suddenly declares his emergence from Murim the moment he comes out?”
Seo Seok-san picked up the thought.
“In terms of pure martial prowess, there’s scarcely a fledgling in the later generation of Murim who rivals senior. But still, emerging at thirteen feels rather premature.”
“But senior’s mind isn’t young just because his body is. He’s always been precocious, and having already mastered the Manbaek Gwigye, he’ll move through the Murim like a seasoned veteran.”
There was no refuting Yeon Geum-hong’s words.
“Since senior hasn’t even mentioned leaving, let’s not worry prematurely. Let’s discuss what Seok-san brought up earlier instead.”
“What about me?”
“Teaching martial arts to Hang Ju-sa-ung, wasn’t that what you said?”
“Just showing him a few techniques. It’s hardly a grand matter.”
“The Bloodwind Four Lions teaching martial arts—and you call that trivial?”
Yeon Geum-hong nodded in agreement.
“Besides, there’s the situation with Go Seo-bang, and who knows if the junior members might need to assist senior in cultivation. The stronger they are, the better.”
Do Pyeong-su asked.
“So you’re saying we should teach him martial arts as Seok-san suggests?”
“Since we’re teaching him anyway, what if we took him as a disciple?”
At Yeon Geum-hong’s question, Do Pyeong-su’s expression froze.
“Those middle-aged oafs as disciples?”
“Bringing up age is pointless—it’s like spitting in the wind.”
“There has to be satisfaction in teaching to take them as disciples! You teach senior, then try teaching Hang Ju-sa-ung! Everyone would be tearing their hair out!”
“Compared to senior, we’re all dull-witted. Aren’t we?”
Do Pyeong-su had no choice but to nod at Yeon Geum-hong’s words.
“Suddenly I’m reminded of when our master was passing. He regretted not having accepted us as disciples long before.”
The thought didn’t occur that he’d regret not taking Hang Ju-sa-ung as a disciple upon death, but the moment the master was mentioned, a solemnity fell over the group, and no one dared counter Yeon Geum-hong’s words.
“If we’re seriously considering taking Hang Ju-sa-ung as a disciple, I’m in favor of it.”
Seo Seok-san spoke.
“This isn’t a decision we can make among ourselves. We need permission from senior.”
“Of course. First we align our intentions among ourselves, then we inform senior. That’s the proper order.”
“I’m in favor.”
When Seo Seok-san agreed, Do Pyeong-su glanced sideways at Jang Man-dok.
“What? You’re in favor too? You hardly open your mouth—how do you plan to teach? Through writing? You’ll be keeping secret teachings to yourself. Everyone’s taking disciples, so if only you don’t, then only O Tong-su ends up pitiful, and that won’t do.”
In the end, unanimous agreement had been reached.
“Now all that’s left is getting senior’s permission. Who should bring it up? What? Jang Man-dok, you’re going to say it?”
Everyone looked at Jang Man-dok with bewildered faces.
“Will you even talk to senior?”
The answer to Seo Seok-san’s question naturally came from Do Pyeong-su.
“Your senior can read your expression?”
Jang Man-dok nodded.
“Your senior is remarkable!”

***

Of course, Geom U-bin readily approved of the Hyeolpung Saja taking Hang Ju-sa-ung as a disciple.
—I’m sorry for failing to produce a fourth disciple at your age.
—Ah! That’s right! How embarrassing.
—I’ll do my best to raise disciples you won’t be ashamed of.
—Don’t work them too hard, though.
—I’m thinking of teaching them at a leisurely pace.
That was the conversation Geom U-bin and Jang Man-dok conducted in expressions alone.
Go Seo-bang, who had been run through by a blade, showed rapid recovery thanks to Jang Man-dok’s skill being brought to bear.
“Sit.”
Hang Ju-sa-ung had no choice but to hesitate at Do Pyeong-su’s command, for there were only four chairs—the ones occupied by the Hyeolpung Saja.
Quick-witted Se-hwa knelt on the floor first, and Gangseong Samak followed suit, dropping to the cold stone.
“How is your body, Go Seo-bang?”
Go Seo-bang answered Seo Seok-san’s question respectfully.
“Nearly healed, master.”
Since their revenge against the Heuksa Clan, Hang Ju-sa-ung had been filled with reverence for the Hyeolpung Saja.
Though on the surface they were scolded and teased, the fact that they had rushed to the Heuksa Clan and annihilated it when Go Seo-bang was struck down was proof that the four treasured them in their hearts.
“From now on, listen well to what I say. You are all dead as of today.”
Do Pyeong-su’s words came without warning, but the word “dead” was unmistakably heard.
Hang Ju-sa-ung’s face drained of color.
“W-we… wh-what… what wrong did we…”
Respectful though they were, fear still lingered.
Yeon Geum-hong reproached Do Pyeong-su.
“Why do you say that first without any explanation? You never do anything properly. You three—do you want to stay as servants, or will you become our disciples?”
Disciples of the Hyeolpung Saja? The name seemed unreal. So their answer was slow, and when Yeon Geum-hong said, “I suppose you don’t want to be disciples?” Gangseong Samak cried out in unison.
“Yes! We accept! As disciples!”
And not just any disciples—disciples of the Supreme Martial Master of Murim.
Heaven-sent opportunities in Murim usually came in childhood, but Gangseong Samak had finally received this legendary blessing at over fifty.
Gangseong Samak was filled with anticipation, but Se-hwa remained silent. When Yeon Geum-hong saw her servant maintaining silence, she furrowed her brow.
“What? You don’t want to become my disciple?”
“It’s not that, but… I’m only twenty-seven now. Can someone like me truly learn martial arts?”
O Tong-su burst out.
“We’re already past fifty! You’re only half our age!”
“But you were already martial artists! The only technique I know is Bangjung-sul!”
Pffft!
Three of the Hyeolpung Saja laughed aloud, and Yeon Geum-hong clutched her head.
Since the woman had been her servant, it was her responsibility to teach her martial arts as well.
“Who told you Bangjung-sul was a martial art?”
“The courtesan who taught it to me said that in certain circumstances, it was the strongest martial art in the world… wasn’t it?”
Seo Seok-san spoke.
“Well, that’s not entirely wrong either. Men rule the world, but women rule the men—or so the saying goes.”
“Be quiet! You scoundrel!”
After calming herself with a deep breath, Yeon Geum-hong spoke in a composed tone.
“There’s a saying that the best time to begin is when you think you’re too late. If you truly don’t want to learn martial arts, so be it. Just remain a servant.”
A courtesan renowned as Gangseong’s finest could be called heaven-blessed in perception alone.
If she alone remained as a servant here, she might spend her days on menial labor and grow old and die.
“No, no! I’ll study with all my might!”
“You needn’t make such oaths. We’ll arrange things so those thoughts come naturally to you.”
A whisper of regret—’I should have stayed a servant’—crept into her mind.
Seo Seok-san spoke.
“Then from today you are all bound in disciple brotherhood. In a brotherhood of disciples, there must be seniors and juniors. It’s natural that Se-hwa is the youngest, with no martial arts and her age being the lowest, but what of you three?”
Gangseong Samak cried out in unison.
“Of course I’m the senior-most disciple!”
O Tong-su bellowed.
“I’m the senior-most disciple, whether you look at years or martial skill!”
“Damn it all! They’re not even worth ten seconds of my time!”
“And they’re a year younger than me, at that!”
Tap-tap-tap!
Gangseong Samak clutched his head and toppled backward.
“How dare they!”
Do Pyeong-su barked out the words.
“We’ll have to settle this ourselves. Ah! I’ve got a brilliant idea!”
Yeon Geum-hong asked without much hope.
“What is it?”
“Six months from now, we rank them according to their martial arts level. Of course, that’s not the clever part. The clever part is applying that same ranking to us. We can’t compete on elixir sales anymore—they’re selling out the moment we make them! What do you think?”
“Ooh! That’s not a bad idea at all!”
Seo Seok-san nodded in agreement, and Jang Man-dok, having been elbowed by Do Pyeong-su, inclined his head as well.
Yeon Geum-hong’s eyes flashed dangerously.
“So you’re trying to shift the competition from four-to-one to three-to-one? And you’re calling that a plan right now? People who know nothing but the Bangjung-sul technique—ugh! You want to count Bangjung-sul as actual martial arts and then decide rankings six months from now? How does that even work?”
Three finger strikes rose silently into Yeon Geum-hong’s palm.
“Ah, no, no—we’re just discussing possibilities. If Se-hwa seems at a disadvantage, we can just level the playing field.”
“How?”
“If we strip their internal power, the levels would match up, wouldn’t they? Should we sever one of their leg meridians as well?”
“W-what? No, that doesn’t make any sense! Lady Yeon! Don’t make that thoughtful face!”
By good fortune, no such proposal came to pass for Gangseong Samak. Instead, their fates were decided by drawing lots.
“Who cares about their ranking? It’s tedious. Just pick whatever.”
Four wooden chopsticks fell into Seo Seok-san’s hand. The person who drew the longest would become Hang Ju-sa-ung’s senior-most disciple.
“But does Se-hwa draw too? Given her age and martial arts level, she should naturally be the junior-most disciple…”
Yeon Geum-hong’s chilling voice cut off O Tong-su’s words.
“Should I strip her internal power and sever her meridians instead?”
“N-no! Of course Se-hwa should participate! The opportunity must be fair to all! Hehehehe!”
Only Se-hwa, who had nothing to lose, beamed with simple joy.
Seo Seok-san suddenly bellowed at the three men of Gangseong Samak, who were locked in a tense battle of wills.
“Just grab one already!”
The three flinched and thrust their arms forward in a flurry. And what remained was Se-hwa’s chopstick.
Yeon Geum-hong smiled and stroked Se-hwa’s head.
“Our Se-hwa has become the junior disciple to these middle-aged fools.”
The back of the prostrate Gangseong Samak trembled faintly with sobs. After sending Hang Ju-sa-ung away, Yeon Geum-hong turned to Seo Seok-san.
“How did you manage that?”
“Manage what?”
“You tampered with the chopsticks.”
“Just fooling around.”
The chopsticks gripped in Seo Seok-san’s hand had all been the same length. But when Gangseong Samak drew his stick, Seo Seok-san had used his internal power to reduce the lower portions to powder.
Only the chopstick passed to Se-hwa last remained intact in full length, and so Se-hwa had ended up as the senior-most junior disciple.
“Those bickering fools do have their uses, I suppose.”

***

The water was hot enough to strip feathers from a chicken in one breath, yet the face of Geom U-bin submerged within it remained serene.
“The second became O Tong-su, the third Go Seo-bang, and the youngest Gal Ma-pyeong.”
At Seo Seok-san’s words, Geom U-bin’s lips curved with amusement.
“Se-hwa became the senior-most junior disciple? How did that happen?”
“The hand of cruel fortune, I suppose. But you’ll be emerging soon, they say?”
“According to Jang, about a month more should do it.”
Seo Seok-san draped his arm over the rim of the barrel where Geom U-bin soaked and rested his chin upon it.
“What do you think you’ll do first when you emerge?”
“I won’t know until I get out. Why?”
“I think I can guess.”
“What would that be?”
“Namgung Hye-yeon, perhaps.”
Geom U-bin laughed brightly and replied.
“Ha! Not at all. Besides, I’ve only met her four times, so what’s that about?”
“Even four meetings is quite sufficient, wouldn’t you say?”
“She’s a good person. But I’ll have mountains of work ahead, and I won’t have time to spare on women.”
Seo Seok-san grew deliberately stern.
“There is balance in all things in this world. Look at us. We’ve spent our entire lives fighting in the Murim, and as a result, we never married and have no descendants. If it weren’t for our senior brother here, our final years would have been unbearably lonely, don’t you think?”
There was weight behind Seo Seok-san’s final words.
“Martial Arts are worthy, yes, but one must also know how to savor life, senior brother.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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