I Became the Namgung Clan’s Omnipotent Item-Powered Martial God - Chapter 6

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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 6
Episode 6 – Don’t Touch Him While He’s Eating
#1
Seven days had passed.
Clang—!
Clang—!
The heavy sound of metal striking metal rang out.
The sound of a twenty-pound Iron Sword striking an Iron Dummy that sent vibrations through the entire body with each blow.
For seven days, Namgung Yeon had done nothing but repeat physical conditioning and that same motion.
Thud—!
Beside him, Man-ho and Ho-ho were engaged in the identical repetition.
“Urgh…….”
“Didn’t I tell you to put less force into it?”
“I—I’m sorry!”
“I don’t understand. Why is the young master bothering to train you…….”
With a ting, Nam Ho-ho lost his grip on the sword.
Park Man-ho offered a sharp rebuke to the younger man.
For reasons he couldn’t quite name, the relationship between these two seemed more like that of master and student than between Park Man-ho and Namgung Yeon.
Park Man-ho was genuinely puzzled.
Why had the young master chosen him and this chubby janitor of all people?
Park Man-ho, who’d been watching the shadow of a branch planted at the edge of the Martial Training Ground, spoke.
“Young master, it’s time for the meal.”
“Has it come to that already?”
“Yes. Perhaps it would be good to rest for a while.”
“Very well.”
As if he’d been waiting for this moment, Nam Ho-ho stepped forward with confidence.
The person who moved fastest the instant mealtime arrived was Nam Ho-ho himself.
He was simply someone who loved eating far too much.
“I’ll have it ready in just a moment!”
“Ugh……. Why on earth did you bring someone like that? Honestly, I don’t see the logic in it.”
“You’ll understand if you watch. Besides, that fellow has quite a bit in common with you.”
Namgung Yeon spoke lightly as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Park Man-ho, meanwhile, wore a bewildered expression.
The look of someone utterly at a loss.
Him—a First-class Martial Artist—similar to that janitor?
‘There’s no doubt the young master’s eye is a bit off.’
No, wait.
If that were true, he never would have chosen Park Man-ho in the first place…….
Namgung Yeon turned his gaze away from the bodyguard lost in contemplation.
They wouldn’t realize it themselves, but the two men stood in similar circumstances.
Only their current level of martial prowess differed slightly.
‘Both were outsiders, honest and sincere to the core.’
What Namgung Yeon had gained across the dozens of cycles wasn’t merely objects stacked in a shed.
Park Man-ho was the Elder’s personal soldier, but his rigidity had earned him disfavor.
That was why he’d been sent here—to watch over the Clan Head and his family.
Nam Ho-ho, by contrast, had lost his parents early, and his distinctive stocky frame made him a constant target of ridicule among martial artists.
In short, he’d been an outcast.
Yet Nam Ho-ho had never once shown displeasure, quietly carrying out his duties.
‘He deserved credit for that. His Martial Talent was exceptional too.’
The boy was naturally blessed with endurance.
Now that the body had been thoroughly stimulated, it was time to begin recovery.
Namgung Yeon swallowed one of the Baekdok Pills from the pile and entered a state of Qi Circulation and Rest.
“Here we are!”
“Does all this food really fit into your stomach?”
“Of course! And lately the young master has been eating so well too~.”
“Sigh…….”
Park Man-ho had always kept his portions measured and disciplined.
Part of it was to maintain his physique; part was to extract optimal performance from his movements.
Yet these two consumed meat in such quantities.
He found himself worrying whether their bodies might grow sluggish from it.
“The Young Master’s orders, you understand?”
“If you can’t even do that…”
“Hehe, but I set aside your meal with special care, sir.”
Nam Ho-ho, bursting with good cheer, laid out Park Man-ho’s meal with meticulous care.
Another reason Namgung Yeon had brought him along.
It was Nam Ho-ho’s talent for cooking.
What is the most important thing in an army?
Supply lines, they say, are the lifeblood.
The same held true for martial training.
Martial artists live on nothing but Grain-Avoidance Pills?
That’s nonsense spouted by broke sects holed up in the mountains.
A person who trains well must also eat well and rest well.
Nam Ho-ho was nothing short of a master chef.
“Young Master, please enjoy your meal.”
“Mm.”
“Your health has improved so much—I’m truly grateful to see it.”
Nam Ho-ho spoke with earnest sincerity.
Namgung Yeon chuckled softly and nodded in acknowledgment.
Such genuine devotion was exactly what he needed most now.
‘I need talented people who will follow my vision with true hearts.’
He’d seen it countless times—the collapse of so many sects.
In the end, only by gathering those willing to help could he stand against them.
He wanted to raise Nam Ho-ho to be one of the mightiest martial artists alive, and to give him the surname Namgung.
Only then would the grand design be complete.
“I’ll eat gratefully!”
The moment he picked up a meatball, the meal truly began.
Or rather.
It was about to begin.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
Until that thunderous noise erupted, the atmosphere had been quite pleasant.
All three of their expressions darkened at once.
Who would be so rude as to bang on a door while people were eating?
Namgung Yeon quietly sensed the incoming Qi and let out a soft laugh.
“Just ignore them.”
“Do… do you know who it is?”
“Trash not worth engaging. Man-ho, if they cross the threshold, knock them down. I don’t care if it’s my own brother.”
“…Understood.”
Park Man-ho’s eyes gleamed with lethal intent.
#2
News spread like wildfire through the Namgung Clan Estate.
This was hardly surprising.
Namgung Yeon had been making such a spectacle in the streets—how could anyone not know?
And so, hearing the news, the troublemakers of the Namgung Clan sprang into action.
Such people existed even within the Namgung household.
Those who bullied the weak and threw their weight around on the strength of meager talent.
Those who exploited the clan’s tradition—that only the strong deserve respect—to run amok like thugs.
These were the ones who had slipped away from the main residence and arrived here.
“Young Master Namgung Yeon! Are you in there? Come out!”
“We’ve brought gifts! We heard you were recovering here!”
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
They hammered at the door, bellowing their taunts.
Their lips twisted with naked contempt.
Yet despite their continued pounding, no response came.
“What’s this?”
“Is he not here?”
“We scoured the streets thoroughly and he wasn’t there.”
“True. There’s only one road in—he couldn’t have gone anywhere else…”
Their conclusion was unanimous.
He was deliberately ignoring them.
There was no other way to interpret such behavior.
“We’ll have to smash it.”
“Yes. Break it and fix it later—what’s the harm?”
“Exactly! How dare he disrespect us like this. A weakling, no less.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
If someone had been watching, they might have thought these men were baring their teeth at the young master of the Namgung Clan itself.
But had they known even one of the names of those present, their certainty would have vanished in an instant.
The reason was simple.
“How dare you show such disrespect—and with your eldest brother present?”
A man appeared from the back, hands clasped behind him.
He was the direct heir of the Namgung Clan Head.
In terms of authority, undoubtedly superior to Namgung Yeon.
The one who would lead the next generation, wielding supreme power among his peers.
Namgung Jin.
Third son of the Namgung Clan Head, third among seven siblings.
A prodigy—one of the strongest favorites to win the Small Clan Head Competition.
Yet even as the third son, he had not yet attained the rank of First-class Martial Artist.
“The young master is dining at present. You may either return or wait.”
Park Man-ho emerged from behind without the slightest warning, and all movement in the courtyard ceased.
When, in the world, had he—?
Those within this martial ground were unaware of it, but change had already begun.
#3
Namgung Jin.
Now that he had barely ascended to First-class Master, he harbored but a single ambition.
To claim victory in the Small Clan Head Competition and earn recognition within this household.
To sit in that seat in his father’s stead and receive the reverence of multitudes.
And to unify the entire martial world under the banner of the Namgung Clan.
He had possessed keen intellect even as a child, and a coldness of judgment that allowed him to regard all things objectively.
Even Namgung Mu, the Clan Head himself, held him in high favor.
Yet there was one heart he could never win.
His mother’s.
“Did you truly speak those words to me just now?”
“Yes, young master. The young master is dining. He ordered that no one be admitted.”
“Ha. So it appears I fall among ‘no one.'”
Namgung Jin had long harbored resentment toward Namgung Yeon.
A frail boy who monopolized their mother’s affection for no reason beyond his weakness.
What was it that left her so unsatisfied with all her other children that she lavished care only upon this sickly one?
And now, to hear this.
It was entirely intolerable.
He was the son of the Namgung Clan Head.
And yet even he was being dismissed?
A subtle current of energy flowed between the two men.
A Qi battle so formidable that even those who had accompanied him hesitated to intervene.
“I beg your pardon, but I follow only the young master’s orders.”
“How exasperating. What an exemplary servant you are. I’ll remember this.”
“He is frail. He has come to convalesce. I hope you will understand.”
“If we were to fight now, do you think you could best me?”
Park Man-ho regarded Namgung Jin carefully.
In truth, when they first confronted each other, he had sensed something peculiar.
These men before him were the Rising Talents destined to lead the next generation of the Namgung Clan.
They were geniuses—the finest the clan had to offer.
Yet even so, they had not detected his approach.
He was a protector, not an assassin.
His skill at concealing his presence was not exceptional.
‘And yet they sensed nothing. From what I understand, Namgung Jin is only at the threshold of First-class rank….’
So he opened his mouth.
If anyone, it would be now that he could restrain Namgung Jin.
“It appears that I, at my present level, can stand against the young master. That is why I have come forward.”
“You insolent worm—!”

Instead, those standing nearby erupted in outrage.
How dare a mere escort warrior—
Yet one must remember this.
The Namgung Clan was a place where strength, not bloodline, was law.
It was the very principle that sustained the Namgung.
“For now, please withdraw. And he asked me to deliver this message.”
“What message?”
“One does not disturb a dog while it eats.”
……
Now get out.
Namgung Yeon’s meaning was crystal clear.
Namgung Jin laughed, utterly astounded.
Yes, this was exactly how it would unfold.
“Hah… this is truly absurd. You know full well when you’ll pay the price for this insolence.”
Hear me clearly.
At the Small Clan Head Competition, I’ll make you understand the difference in our strength.
Namgung Jin spoke with icy precision.
“Let’s go. This no longer interests me.”
“…Yes.”
“If you’re harboring any foolish thoughts, I suggest you abandon them. Here in the Namgung, it’s quite common for people to die.”
Even if they’re the direct descendants of the clan head.
Namgung Jin delivered this lethal warning and vanished once more into the streets of Hap-bi.
Park Man-ho watched their retreating figures with a troubled expression.
Either way, training would continue.
Only seven weeks remained now.
More than two months of time still stretched ahead.
The training would become far more brutal.

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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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