Obtaining Heavenly Demon Martial Arts in the Magic Era - Chapter 17

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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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17
The Seoul Station Plaza at midday, thick with acrid smoke and crowds. Cheon Do-hyeon wandered the streets clutching a rough sketch. He spotted a homeless man smoking in a corner where few eyes ventured, and paused.
“Have you seen this person before?”
Do-hyeon held out the sketch and asked. The man studied it for a moment, then waved his hand dismissively and turned away.
‘That reaction was strange.’
In fact, the homeless around Seoul Station had all reacted the same way. Some seemed to know but pretended not to; others looked afraid to get involved at all.
Last night, that man had appeared in their moment of crisis, saving both him and Kim Seung-yeon, and had even stabilized his Dantian. To find him, Cheon Do-hyeon had spent the entire morning combing through the homeless tent villages and back alleys around Seoul Station.
But there was no trace of Gwak Cheol anywhere.
A text arrived from Kim Seung-yeon. ‘Still searching?’
He tried to ignore it, but more messages kept coming through.
‘There’s a free meal station near Seoul Station. Bet all the homeless in the area will gather there around lunch. Head there. (map attached)’
Kim Seung-yeon always seemed to know when he was struggling, sending precisely the information he needed.
‘Thanks.’
By the time he sent the reply, lunchtime had arrived.
He made his way to the free meal station in a corner of the plaza that Kim Seung-yeon had told him about.
There was already a long line forming, and distribution hadn’t even begun.
His stomach was growling anyway, so Cheon Do-hyeon picked up a tray and joined the queue, naturally working his way between the eating homeless.
Once they’d finished, he subtly showed them the sketch and asked.
“You ever seen anyone who looks like this?”
“Ugh, I don’t know! Why’re you ruining my meal with this?”
An old man grumbled, irritably setting down his spoon with a sharp clink.
The responses from the few others he asked were much the same.
“Yes… sorry for the trouble.”
Do-hyeon left the free meal station without a single lead. Half a day had been utterly wasted.
Maybe the platoon leader was right—searching for one person hiding deliberately in this sprawling Seoul Station might be impossible.
‘Should I give up?’
That was when he moved to tuck his notebook back into his pocket.
“The real ghosts don’t walk around in daylight, you know.”
A hoarse voice came from behind him. It was that same irritable old man. The old man’s lifeless eyes swept across Do-hyeon, then he glanced around cautiously and whispered, his lips barely moving.
“When the sun sets… go to the B4 Exit Restricted Zone, deeper back behind the Ventilation Duct. Though I can’t promise you’ll leave alive. It’s off-limits even for us.”
The old man departed into the crowd with quick steps, leaving only those words behind.
#
Deep into the night, Seoul Station lay beyond the reach of the city’s lights.
The sealed underground zone the old man had described—Do-hyeon wouldn’t have dared venture here without that guidance.
In pitch-black darkness, Cheon Do-hyeon walked through a narrow passage behind the Ventilation Duct.
‘I thought it’d be a dusty pit, but it’s cleaner than expected.’
Only a properly functioning ventilation system could maintain such conditions. Clearly, human hands had touched this place.
‘There should be some kind of light source somewhere…’
As Cheon Do-hyeon felt his way along the wall, moving forward—
A low rustle.
Eyes gleaming in the darkness began to appear, one by one.
By the aura they gave off, these were different creatures entirely from the listless homeless he’d seen in the plaza that afternoon.
When he continued forward without acknowledging them, one of the figures hidden in the shadows stepped out.
“Leave while I’m being nice about it.”
At a glance, his joints were thick and heavy, his posture flawless.
And the faint current of power emanating from him was unmistakably—
‘Faint, yes, but that’s definitely Internal Energy.’
How homeless people hiding in Seoul Station had learned Martial Arts was beyond him.
But he knew instinctively this was the headquarters of the man he’d been searching for.
“I’m looking for someone. Once I find him, I’m gone.”
The man, skin mottled from lack of washing, twisted his face in a grimace.
“No manners at all. A soft-cheeked brat like you spouting informal speech? I was going to let you off easy, but I guess I need to teach you some respect.”
The man radiated menace and pulled out an iron pipe he’d been concealing.
“You spoke first, didn’t you? Maybe check your own prefrontal cortex for manners before looking for mine.”
Laughter burst from the shadows behind him—they couldn’t help themselves.
The man’s face flushed a furious red.
“You little bastard!”
Crack—
Do-hyeon didn’t dodge; he simply twisted his body, letting the trajectory slip past him. While the iron pipe cut through empty air with all the man’s strength behind it, Do-hyeon’s fist drove straight into the unguarded face.
“Hack—!”
In agony, the man dropped the iron pipe, clutching his face as he writhed across the floor.
Do-hyeon looked down at him, scratching the back of his head with an awkward smile.
“I think you’ve trained in martial arts, so I didn’t hold back… Sorry about that. How about cooperating with me now?”
Cheon Do-hyeon pulled out a carefully drawn sketch from his jacket and waved it while asking. But it seemed that in the world of vagrants, there existed bonds of friendship and loyalty far deeper than Do-hyeon had imagined.
“This bastard, Ttang-chil! Get him!”
The homeless men who had been watching in silence suddenly rose as one. Various weapons filled their hands haphazardly—wooden clubs, chains, axes, and even hoes among them.
“How tiresome…”
Even as more than a dozen burly figures rushed toward him, Do-hyeon remained unperturbed.
Though his body bore injuries, perhaps it was because his proficiency in the Heup Seong Dae Beop along with the Cheon Ma Hwan Yeong Bo and Cheon Ma Gun Nim Bo had each advanced by a level through his battle with the janitor and the healing process that followed.
He felt no fear.
“Show us what you’re made of!”
“Make sure he can’t walk out on two feet!”
The enraged vagrant martial artists threw themselves at him in unison.
Though ragged in appearance, their assault carried sharp coordinated strikes—the mark of those with considerable experience in group combat.
Flash—flash.
Screech—screech.
Weapons danced in the darkness, yet not a single blade could so much as graze Do-hyeon’s clothes.
Thud! Crash!
The footwork of the Cheon Ma Hwan Yeong Bo unfolded in dizzying patterns.
Each time Do-hyeon’s fist connected, the vagrant martial artists collapsed with groans, falling like harvested straw. Though nothing compared to facing a mage, Do-hyeon’s merciless strikes soon filled the cramped passage with anguished cries.
Clang!
Then a sharp metallic ring cut through the air as a black silhouette dropped from the darkness above.
“What manner of violence is this in another man’s home?”
Under the dim incandescent bulb stood a man in a worn navy jacket.
The very man Cheon Do-hyeon had been searching for so desperately.
“I saved a man from the brink of death, and this is how you repay kindness—with betrayal?”
He crushed out a crumpled cigarette slowly, then lifted his head at an unhurried pace.
Last night, Do-hyeon had not noticed, but now the man’s eyes gleamed like those of a wolf.
“Have you never heard the old saying—save a man from drowning, and he’ll demand your bundle?”
The man’s piercing gaze swept over Do-hyeon from head to toe in response to his paradoxical riddle.
“I bought you an extra night of life, yet here you are, clinging and troublesome.”
“Because I need you—truly need you.”
“Those eyes tell me words won’t work on you.”
The man drew an iron rod from the pocket of his worn cargo pants.
He flicked it once in the air with a sharp sound, and it extended with three successive metallic clicks, growing in length.
It was a titanium three-section staff that gleamed faintly even in the darkness.
But Cheon Do-hyeon did not retreat. Instead, the corner of his mouth curled upward as he clenched both fists tight.
For some reason, his grandfather Cheon U-hyeok’s final words echoed in his ears.
‘Live without hesitation.’
Cheon Do-hyeon lowered his stance and spoke.
“Let’s make a wager.”
“…Arrogant bastard. Let’s hear your terms.”
“If you win, I’ll leave this place without complaint and never return. But if I win, you’ll teach me how to harness the power of the Dantian.”
“Ha! You think you can beat me in that condition? We of Gae Bang must seem terribly insignificant to you. Fine. I am Gwak Cheol, submaster of Gae Bang—I’ll face you properly, stake my name on it.”
By revealing his name, Gwak Cheol brought his fighting spirit to its peak in an instant.
Crack!
He kicked off the ground and charged like lightning. Do-hyeon wasn’t certain what “submaster of Gae Bang” meant, but it sounded like a title for the strongest person in this district.
Gwak Cheol’s body moved so fast it left afterimages as he rushed in and aimed a sweeping strike at Do-hyeon’s head.
Whoosh—
‘Fast.’
Do-hyeon’s pupils constricted sharply. Even as he instinctively twisted his head, the three-section staff whistled past his ear with a keen cutting sound.
Had it connected fully, his skull would have shattered like a birthday cake!
But the place where Gwak Cheol’s staff passed through was nothing more than a phantom Do-hyeon had created.
Cheon Ma Hwan Yeong Bo.
As the Cheon Ma Hwan Yeong Bo deployed, Do-hyeon’s afterimage split into three in the air.
‘Blind spot.’
Do-hyeon’s true body drove into Gwak Cheol’s right flank, driving his fist forward.
Swift—
But Gwak Cheol’s body twisted grotesquely, slipping into empty air.
“Clumsy.”
As Gwak Cheol’s raspy voice cut through the air, the titanium three-section staff traced a dark arc toward Cheon Do-hyeon’s solar plexus.
Thud—!!
“Ugh!”
Do-hyeon’s body snapped backward, breath driven from his lungs in a searing shock. Pure strength, no flourish—a raw, brutal strike. But for a wounded man, it was devastating.
Crash!
Do-hyeon staggered to his feet, dust clinging to him.
‘Have I ever been beaten down like this since I gained martial arts?’
He wiped blood from his lip, thinking.
No.
Not since Grandfather’s death. This was the first time he’d felt his body pushed back physically in a fight.
Inexperience.
Yet rather than despair, Do-hyeon felt a competitive fire kindle inside him.
Gwak Cheol, for his part, knew nothing of the thoughts churning in Do-hyeon’s mind.
“Taken a hit? Come to your senses now?”
Gwak Cheol tapped the three-section staff against his shoulder casually. By this point, he expected the boy to feel the gap between them and give up.
“No, sir. Sleep’s gone—my head’s perfectly clear now.”
Do-hyeon grinned and pushed off the ground once more.
Gwak Cheol’s expression soured as he engaged Do-hyeon again.
With each collision of fist and staff, a heavy crack echoed through the space.
Do-hyeon barely parried Gwak Cheol’s staff, but he was steadily being forced back.
The man’s attacks moved like a living serpent.
The moment it seemed his guard was high, the staff bent downward; when it appeared aimed at the left, the strike came from the opposite side.
The erratic assault wore steadily on Do-hyeon’s nerves.
And then, finally—
Screech—
His guard shattered. The staff found his shoulder and thigh.
“Hngh—”
The wounds the janitor had opened ruptured again, staining his clothes crimson.
Whoosh—
Do-hyeon scrambled backward, slipping Gwak Cheol’s follow-up strike.
“Hah… hah…”
Do-hyeon’s fathomless eyes computed Gwak Cheol’s footwork like a machine.
‘The shift of center, the spring in his knees, the force that flows from the Dantian.’
“I’m tired now. Let’s finish this.”
Gwak Cheol deployed the Chwi Pal Seon Bo, closing the gap in a heartbeat and swinging the staff wide.
Ta Gu Bong Beop – Dang Du Bong Gal.
In that instant, the Tae Heo Hun Won Sim Gong nested in Do-hyeon’s Dantian erupted violently.
‘Now.’
Do-hyeon did not dodge. Instead, he threaded his own rhythm into the gaps of Gwak Cheol’s footwork, landing one beat faster.
Cheon Ma Gun Nim Bo.
Boom—!!
Gravity within a two-meter radius crashed down, weighted by his Internal Energy. Gwak Cheol’s movement froze for 0.1 seconds.
“This crazy—?!”
Gwak Cheol’s eyes widened for the first time.
Screech—!
Within the space locked by the Cheon Ma Gun Nim Bo, Do-hyeon’s form scattered like smoke on the Cheon Ma Hwan Yeong Bo, then materialized inches from Gwak Cheol’s face.
Slash—!
His signature strike swung through empty air. Gwak Cheol’s feral reflexes had whipped his head back just in time.
“I… impossible…”
Cheon Do-hyeon’s shock cut deep.
Crack—
And the three-section staff, released from its pause, moved. It severed his consciousness.
Thud—
A drop of blood fell from Gwak Cheol’s beard as he stood over the fallen Cheon Do-hyeon.
He wiped the cut on his chin with the back of his hand.
Heavy silence settled over the underground clearing.
“Hehe! As expected of Montage, sir. We had faith in you!”
Beggars emerged from behind, fawning over Gwak Cheol.
“Should we throw this arrogant bastard outside?”
“Break his legs so he never dares show his face again?”
“No. Move him inside.”
“Pardon? But… why?”
“…When did you start arguing with my orders?”
“Yes, sir. We’ll do as you command.”
The Gae Bang members grimaced but carefully lifted Cheon Do-hyeon’s limp body and carried him indoors.
Watching Cheon Do-hyeon with his eyes closed as if peacefully asleep, Gwak Cheol’s thoughts drifted to him.
‘Did I lose to this slip of a kid?’
Gwak Cheol absently rubbed the blood smeared on his chin. Minutes of sparring—a mere handful of minutes—and in that brief window, the boy had read his footwork, found the gaps in his defense. A talent as monstrous as it was unrefined.
“Ha, hahaha!”
Gwak Cheol burst into laughter as if seized by madness.
“Cheon U-hyeok… you crusty old bastard. You’ve created a monster.”
Gwak Cheol drew a fresh cigarette and spoke to himself, struck by something in the boy’s eyes—that calm, unbending gaze—which reminded him of the martial mastery he had witnessed in the Cheon family long ago, the very power that had once saved him.
“Perhaps this is how I repay the debt after all.”
Gwak Cheol lit his cigarette and murmured the secret history that only he knew.

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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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