Category: The genius martial artist who remembers everything

  • The genius martial artist who remembers everything Chapter 5

    Recently, Hong Saryeon had been in a relatively good mood—but now, the character 川 (river) reappeared between her brows.

    It was because Gye Cheolyeong, who had been lying low ever since Gye Yeonseung was expelled and a new head took over Busaeng Hall, had reverted to his old self and started flaunting again.

    “What is Snow Plum Elixir, you ask? It’s a elixir that ranks just behind Purple Revitalization Elixir in effectiveness for enhancing internal energy, even within the Mount Hua Sect. In fact, when it comes to refining the body’s foundation, it surpasses even Shaolin’s elixir. That’s how miraculous this elixir is. Within the Mount Hua Sect, only the true disciples get the chance to receive even one of these precious elixirs.”

    And naturally, what would follow was probably: ‘That priceless pill—my father and my uncle, a disciple of the Mount Hua Sect—secured it just for me.’

    Hong Saryeon didn’t need to hear the rest to know what was coming.

    After all, it had been several days now that she’d heard the exact same lines, in the exact same tone, to the point where it felt like a martial formula was etched into her mind without her ever having learned it.

    “…Yes. That’s really amazing.”

    “Right? So, about that…”

    Truthfully, she wanted to yell, “And what do you want me to do about it, you idiot?!” But the boy in front of her was the precious son of a major sponsor.

    That didn’t mean she wasn’t jealous of Gye Cheolyeong.

    She was a martial artist through and through, and her longing for powerful elixirs was no less than anyone else’s.

    But Saryeon had too much on her shoulders as the only daughter of the sect leader to wallow in feelings of deprivation or envy.

    “Sister! Sister! What’s going to happen to Senior Jin?”

    “Sister! Is Senior Sowoon really leaving the sect?”

    “Sister! If I skip two meals… do you think Senior will come back?”

    The younger disciples, like little chicks, were all waiting eagerly for their runaway senior brother to return. As for Senior Jin himself, despite asking the outer hall lord about his whereabouts, there hadn’t been a single piece of news.

    That damned man.

    Saryeon’s patience was already wearing thin from Gye Yeonseung and Gye Cheolyeong’s nonsense.

    If Senior Jin hadn’t stepped up, she had been about to do it herself.

    No—originally, it should have been her duty, not his.

    After all, the future of the Taeulmun Sect would eventually rest on her shoulders.

    Gye Cheolyeong was just an opportunist who had joined the martial academy for personal gain, and half of the younger disciples would probably end up inheriting their families’ businesses or, if lucky, get a decent job as an escort.

    Although Senior Jin Sowoon was there, Saryeon wasn’t shameless enough to shove all the burdens of their sect’s bleak future onto him.

    She had carried that weight since she was very young.

    That’s why she had been blaming herself lately—blaming her fear of Gye Yeonseung’s martial prowess and Gye Yeonseok’s retaliation, for not stepping forward when she should have.

    How did he even win?

    Setting aside the mystery of how he defeated the Mount Hua Sect’s Plum Blossom Sword Art, his decision to leave the Taeulmun Sect without catching the notice of Gye Yeonseok—who’d been making daily appearances at their gates ever since the incident—was surely an act of consideration.

    Everyone knew how petty and persistent Gye Yeonseok could be.

    That must have been why Jin Sowoon left the sect on his own.

    “Sister! Sister! Try this!”

    “Sister! This meat is really tasty!”

    The younger disciples, with their dog-like devotion, held up rice cakes and meat before her. Seeing them, Hong Saryeon forgot all about her worries and reached out to pat their heads.

    A small feast was being held at the Taeulmun Sect to celebrate the visit of the Mount Hua Sect masters to the Gyeryong Merchant Group.

    Of course, Gye Yeonseok and Gye Yeonseung were too busy entertaining those masters to stop by the Taeulmun Sect, which meant everyone there could enjoy the food in peace.

    “But seriously, where did Senior Jin go? He really liked this rice cake…”

    “Sister! Can we save this meat for him?”

    One of the younger disciples, his eyes sparkling and mouth watering, asked in a voice full of restraint.

    It’s probably the first time he’s seen meat in ages. Could he really give that up?

    Feeling a twinge in her heart, Saryeon reached out and ruffled his hair roughly.

    “By the time he’s back, the meat will be spoiled. So don’t hold back—go ahead and eat.”

    “Then… when is Senior coming back?”

    “He’ll be back soon.”

    Pretending it was no big deal, Hong Saryeon stole a piece of meat and a rice cake from the young disciples.

    Seriously, what are you doing out there, you damn bastard?


    “Ten silver coins. That’s what I’ll give you.”

    In his past life, he had always cursed his perfect memory—but it wasn’t without its benefits.

    For example, in situations like this, when a shameless merchant tried to exploit changing market prices to lowball him, it was quite useful.

    “Hah, what nonsense. In Zhejiang these days, they’re desperate for tiger hides. They start at thirty silver coins over there.”

    Zhejiang, especially Hangzhou, was a major trading hub. Its market often influenced the surrounding provinces.

    Even so, a twenty-coin gap between provinces was absurd.

    “Well, that’s when the tiger hide is in good condition.”

    “Take a good look. Not a single arrow hole in this pelt. You think you can offer ten coins and not get dragged off to the authorities?”

    “Young man, you blind? You call this a good pelt?”

    The merchant spread the tiger skin wide.

    “What the hell did you do to it for it to dry out like this? I’m being generous offering ten coins. Anywhere else, you’d get half that!”

    “….”

    No matter how hard I searched my memory, there was no way to restore a withered hide.

    So I gave in cleanly and took the ten silver coins.

    I hadn’t planned on getting a tiger hide in the first place.

    Ever since absorbing the inner core of the Human-faced Spider, I’d been faced with a serious problem.

    “If this keeps up, I’m going to be mistaken for a demon.”

    Among the Ten Forbidden Arts listed by the Martial Alliance, one was the Absorption Technique.

    This technique was so feared that it had its own category—the Four Evil Arts.

    Judging by how the Azure Dragon Ring absorbed the inner core, it was indistinguishable from the Absorption Technique, making it an urgent issue to deal with.

    “I knew nothing good would come from a relic belonging to that damned Bloodthirsty Demon.”

    Luckily, it didn’t indiscriminately absorb everything.

    It couldn’t draw anything from plants or rocks.

    But it could absorb energy from animals like deer or rabbits.

    More than simple absorption—it converted their life energy into internal energy.

    That put it right on par with the Bloodthirsty Demon—and made me an instant kill-on-sight target for the Martial Alliance.

    Still, I hoped it might behave differently, so I risked my life going deep into the mountain where I found the tiger and tested the Azure Dragon Ring.

    As you can see from the result… Jin Sowoon, the Absorption Cultivator, was born.

    Bravo. Jin Sowoon returns from reincarnation and becomes a demonic cultivator. Bravo, indeed.

    But my life wasn’t the only thing on the line.

    If the Martial Alliance found out, not only me, but my father, the sect leader, the hall lords—everyone in the Taeulmun Sect would be dragged away and tortured.

    The dungeons of the Martial Alliance are infamous for forcing confessions—guilty or not.

    The young disciples would never last three days before confessing they learned the Absorption Technique from me.

    “If I die again, will I get another chance…?”

    Rather than rely on vague hope, I began researching the Azure Dragon Ring.

    For starters, it followed my will fairly well.

    I couldn’t afford to have it suddenly shine like before and draw suspicion again.

    Still not trusting it, I wrapped my wrist in dark cloth the moment I entered town.

    The reason I hadn’t cut off my left hand, despite everything, was because the energy it absorbed—whether life energy or internal energy—was converted into a form identical to my Taeulmun cultivation method.

    More accurately, it was absorbed in an even purer state and merged seamlessly.

    One major sign of the Absorption Technique is that it leaves residual traces of foreign energy.

    But in my case, there were none.

    Unless someone directly witnessed me draining someone’s energy, there was no way to tell from examining my dantian.

    As long as I didn’t get caught, this was essentially a hidden trump card of enormous power.

    Or at least… I decided to think of it that way.

    Because the thought of ending up in the Martial Alliance’s torture chamber was too horrifying to bear.

    “Do you sell traps by any chance?”

    “Huh? Didn’t you come here for that? We’re the best hunting supply shop in Hefei.”

    “Then I’ll take some general-use and bear traps, please.”

    “Eh? Planning to hunt with traps? The hides will be ruined that way—you might as well keep that dried-out one.”

    “I’m not trying to skin them.”

    “Huh. Well, bear meat does sell for a good price these days. How many you want?”

    “About… thirty or so.”

    “…What?”

    “The things I need to hunt are… not exactly ordinary.”


    The Gyeryong Trading Group hosted a feast more extravagant than anything seen in recent times.

    Whatever the reason, the visit of experts from the Mount Hua Sect was a golden opportunity to publicize their relationship with the sect.

    They posted announcements across a 5 kilometer radius and served drinks and side dishes to all, regardless of status.

    Those who had dealings with the trading group in the past, and who had always been treated stingily, were offended by the lavish generosity and chose not to attend. But local drinkers made sure to bring each other along, and the lights and music at the Gyeryong Trading Group didn’t go out until morning.

    The highlight of the feast was a dance performance by Wolhyang, the most renowned courtesan in Hefei.

    Even the most hardened drunkards, who clung to their seats for fear of losing them, gathered in the center of the trading group to catch a glimpse of the elusive Wolhyang.

    “Show your respects. These are the finest warriors of the Mount Hua Sect.”

    With exaggerated pride, Gye Yeonseok praised the two experts, and Wolhyang lowered her veil with a faint smile.

    “I go by the name Wolhyang.”

    Not just Gye Cheolyeong, seated next to Gye Yeonseok, but even the experts from the Mount Hua Sect struggled to keep a straight face.

    Especially when, with each subtle movement of her dance, glimpses of her white skin appeared between the folds of her skirt—an indescribable sigh filled the hall.

    And just when all attention was fixed on Wolhyang, the Phantom Thief slipped between the lanterns, unseen, and climbed over the wall of the Gyeryong Trading Group.

    Success!

    The Phantom Thief thought.

    With this, the wretched life of stealing could finally end.

    Thrown into the martial world at a young age without proper guidance, he’d picked up a few stray skills here and there.

    Among them, his sleight of hand was the most refined, naturally leading him into a life of thievery—but this was never the life he desired.

    Then, by sheer chance, he got his hands on the secret manual of the Guangcheon Divine Palm.

    It was the final technique of the Guangcheon Divine Lord, known to have disappeared without a trace, leaving no disciples behind.

    Though he had acquired the manual, it only contained the palm technique—not the vital internal energy cultivation method.

    Moreover, the power of the technique was legendary, requiring immense internal energy to wield. For the Phantom Thief, it was like giving a lame horse a war saddle.

    But now things are different! The martial world will witness the return of the Guangcheon Divine Lord!

    With the Snow Plum Elixir and the Guangcheon Divine Palm in his possession, he had nothing left to fear.

    “Hehehe.”

    He chuckled to himself, unable to contain his joy.

    “I told you he’d come this way.”

    “Ha! He actually stole it.”

    At the sudden voices, the Phantom Thief’s heart dropped.

    “……”

    He quickly activated his movement technique to flee, but the murderous aura the two had unleashed was so vast he couldn’t even tell which direction was safe.

    “Isn’t this the part where we say, ‘Who’s there?’”

    “Looks like he’s a quiet one. He’d do well in the Martial Alliance.”

    The two men approached, speaking casually.

    One carried a sword, his robe adorned with cloud patterns.

    The Phantom Thief instantly realized he couldn’t take them on.

    Jeomchang Sect!

    His mind raced.

    Should he try to negotiate?

    Since they mentioned the Martial Alliance, they probably wouldn’t kill him.

    Maybe he could just hand it over and slip away…

    “Look at that, he’s thinking fast.”

    “Hey. Move a single finger and we’ll slice your throat.”

    At those words, the Phantom Thief gave up.

    Better to wait for another chance than die like a dog here.

    He immediately dropped to his knees.

    “This fool, blinded by greed, did something foolish. Please, spare me.”

    He pulled out a small wooden case and bowed low.

    He knew he’d probably end up imprisoned by the Martial Alliance once they recovered the Snow Plum Elixir, but if these two were greedy for it, maybe—just maybe—they’d let him live.

    “This is the Snow Plum Elixir?”

    “Open it and check. You can’t trust a thief.”

    “Let’s see.”

    One of the men opened the wooden case.

    Poof.

    A fresh fragrance wafted into the Phantom Thief’s nose.

    “It’s real.”

    “Yeah?”

    “I beg you, great warriors—may I offer a suggestion?”

    “Hm?”

    “Suppose I saw nothing at all. What do you say?”

    “What’s he going on about?”

    “The head of the Gyeryong Merchant Group is a greedy, arrogant man who doesn’t know how to be grateful. Even if you returned the pill, would he reward you? Wouldn’t it be better if you kept it for yourselves…”

    “Ha! Look at this guy.”

    “Heh. What do you take us for?”

    Though they brushed off his suggestion, the glances exchanged between the two made the Phantom Thief certain.

    I can get out of this alive.

    “Well then, I’ll just…”

    As he tried to stand, he realized his legs wouldn’t move.

    “You really thought we’d leave a witness?”

    “For a dark path rogue, you’re pretty naive. How did the name ‘Phantom Thief’ ever get famous?”

    The Phantom Thief’s last words were a muttered curse before he collapsed.

    “Let’s take care of this and go.”

    “Wait. Guys like him always keep their greatest treasure on them. Look.”

    The man pulled out a secret manual from the thief’s clothing.

    “Check it later. They’ll probably notice the pill’s missing soon.”

    Thud.

    The man sent energy into the ground, creating a hole just big enough for a person.

    They kicked the thief’s body into the pit and covered it loosely with dirt.

    Rustle.

    Just then, they heard a noise—one neither of them had made.

    “Who’s there?”

    “Step out or we’ll cut you down.”

    A figure emerged from the forest—a young man, not yet twenty.

    “Wh-Who are you?”

    “Who you are is the real question. What brings you here at this hour?”

    Could he have seen it? But the timing…

    Their gazes grew wary and tangled.

    “I heard the Gyeryong Merchant Group was throwing a feast with free booze. I was headed there, but… got a bit lost.”

    “Did you… see anything?”

    “See what?”

    “……”

    One man looked to the other. The second subtly shook his head.

    “Come. I’ll show you the way to the merchant group.”

    “Sorry, but this feels fishy. I’d prefer to find my own way.”

    “……”

    “……”

    There was no more room for doubt. The kid had seen something.

    The moment their eyes met, both men kicked off the ground and closed in.

    “Bad luck. Don’t blame us.”

    Just as one moved to strike—

    The young man’s bewildered expression twisted into a demonic grin.

    “You bastards have some nerve. Is this how Jeomchang trains its dogs?”

    “Gah!”

    The man swung his sword, holding nothing back—but to his shock, the strike was blocked.

    The moment their blades met, searing pain shot through his joints, forcing him back.

    Chomp!

    “Gaaah!”

    A sharp bite sank into his ankle.

    Despite being a master of stealth, Gu Il-mu couldn’t stop himself from screaming.

    “Who the hell are you?! Do you even know who we are?!”

    He channeled all his internal energy to shake off the trap digging into his ankle, but the teeth had already sunk in too deep—he couldn’t muster proper strength.

    The young man’s once-innocent face now wore a cold, amused grin.

    “Who else? Just a guy robbing a couple of Jeomchang Sect’s thieves.”

    “W… what’s your true identity?”

    “The new owner of the Snow Plum Elixir.”

    Jin Sowoon smiled faintly.

  • The genius martial artist who remembers everything Chapter 4

    “Keek.”

    A spider with a vaguely human-like face spewed venom from its mouth.

    Chzzzt.

    The venom was so toxic that it melted not only the trees but even the hardened soil beneath.

    Even with a hood covering my mouth, my head was starting to feel dizzy.

    Spirit herbs usually appeared in places where the energy of the heavens and earth converged.

    And such spiritual lands didn’t only nurture spirit herbs—they often gave rise to spiritual creatures as well.

    However, if the creature in question was horrifying just to look at, people would sometimes call it a demonic beast.

    “Disgusting.”

    Eight legs, a massive body, and a humanoid face with four eyes—this thing was none other than the demon beast known as the Human-faced Spider.

    The Human-faced Spider stood guard in front of the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng, wary that I might try to steal its treasure.

    “Because of you, I had to go all the way to Mount Hapchi.”

    Circling around it, I slashed off one of its legs.

    Kieek.

    Green blood spurted out as smoke and acidic fluid sprayed in all directions.

    For someone like me, whose internal energy was meager, even the smoke alone could be fatal. It had been worth the trip to Mount Hapchi to take the Nine-leaf Deep Root herb beforehand.

    “Even if you survive here, in three years you’ll be dragged off to the Tang Clan and squeezed dry of venom until you wither away.”

    Kieek.

    Despite my attempt to reason with it, the Human-faced Spider had no intention of listening.

    Chaak.

    Webs shot out from its back, weaving a net in all directions.

    In an instant, the web blocked the passage of the cave.

    “Foolish creature.”

    I lit the web with a torch.

    The flame raced along the silk and surged toward the Human-faced Spider.

    The fire traveled along its sticky secretions and reached its back in no time.

    Kieek.

    Just as it panicked and tried to scrape its backside against the ground, I drowned its body in oil and set it ablaze.

    Kieeeeeek!

    As it screamed, I thrust my sword into its disgusting mouth.

    It flailed wildly, spraying green blood from its eyes and mouth—its human-like face now more disgusting than ever.

    As I backed away, its movements gradually slowed.

    Once the stench filled the entire cave, I was finally able to catch my breath.

    “Whew.”

    Though I had consumed the Ten-Thousand-Year He Shou Wu and the King Ginseng, I had only managed to absorb the equivalent of eight years of internal energy.

    As rare as those spirit herbs were, they didn’t do much to increase my inner power. Plus, the Taeulmun Breathing Technique had a limit to how much it could absorb.

    “At this rate, when will I ever catch up to that bastard?”

    The Taechung Divine Sword—currently Yong Soa—had internal energy equivalent to three cycles of the sexagenary cycle.   *Approximtely 180 years.

    Three cycles. Three full cycles.

    The sheer scale of it made me feel dizzy.

    Still, I couldn’t afford to sit idle.

    “If I consume every herb listed in the Manual of Jianghu Spirit Herbs, maybe I’ll at least be able to catch up.”

    The Taeulmun Breathing Technique was excellent, yes, but it was only a foundation.

    Without an advanced internal energy technique, absorption would remain a challenge.

    The energy of the spirit herbs wouldn’t vanish, but how unfair would it be to die with all that unused energy still inside me?

    “I need elixirs. Elixirs are what I need.”

    To increase internal energy, elixirs were far more efficient than herbs.

    And the more prestigious the sect that produced the elixir, the more internal energy it could grant.

    “There’s no end to the things I have to do.”

    As I mulled over my situation, I stepped past the corpse of the Human-faced Spider and saw the leaves of the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Ginseng basking in the light peeking through a hole.

    “Never thought I’d eat something like this in my lifetime.”

    For a moment, my worries about elixirs vanished. Just seeing the Fire Ginseng’s leaves made them evaporate.

    The Ten-Thousand-Year He Shou Wu and King Ginseng were precious, but the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Ginseng—like the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng—was an outstanding spirit herb for enhancing both yin-yang energy and internal power.

    It even had the effect of rebirth. Someone with no martial potential could become talented, and someone already talented could transcend into a martial deity’s physique.

    At the very least, eating this would ensure I wouldn’t be trapped in those frustrating situations where I understood what to do but couldn’t act on it.

    Without hesitation, I started with a small root, absorbing as much essence as I could and chewing down even the leaves.

    A clear, refreshing aroma filled my mouth, and with every exhale, that pure scent spread outward.

    “It’s coming.”

    Not long after swallowing the Fire Ginseng, a warm heat rose from my lower abdomen.

    I wasted no time—I crossed my legs and began circulating the Taeulmun Breathing Technique.

    The warm energy quickly overwhelmed the Taeulmun technique’s energy and surged through my body.

    The gentle, disciplined energy of the Taeulmun technique chased after the wild ginseng energy, trying to subdue it, but it refused to be tamed.

    “Grrgh.”

    It rampaged through my meridians, forcefully breaking through blockages and burning away impurities.

    Each burst of pain felt like my body was being torn apart, but bit by bit, the energy began to weaken.

    The chase continued endlessly, back and forth.

    Who knew how much time had passed?

    Flash.

    When I opened my eyes, the light filling the cave was so bright that I instinctively frowned.

    Bright?

    Only a small area of the cave where the Fire Ginseng grew received light—so faint that I had needed a torch just to enter.

    But now the light was bright?

    Something’s changed.

    My body had changed. Vitality surged through every part of me.

    Boom.

    When I punched the wall, a portion of the sturdy cave wall crumbled.

    Yet I felt no pain at all.

    I examined my dantian. A lump the size of a fingertip had formed there.

    “About fifteen years’ worth, huh?”

    Compared to the records from the Nine Great Sects or Five Great Clans, it was nothing. But I had gathered this with the notoriously slow Taeulmun Breathing Technique.

    And now that my body had been refined to support martial arts, the speed of my cultivation should increase.

    “I guess I can afford to be greedy for a rare elixir now.”

    Just in time, I happened to know of one rare elixir not listed in the Manual of Jianghu Spirit Herbs.

    “To be exact, it’s an elixir the Gyeryong Merchant Guild lost.”

    Gye Yeonseok had purchased Seolmaedan also know as the Snow Plum Elixir from Mount Hua for Gye Cheolyeong.

    The Snow Plum Elixir was second only to Mount Hua’s finest elixir, Purple Revitalization Elixir.

    Even true disciples rarely got to see it. Gye Yeonseok had poured in his fortune and all of Gyeryong Merchant Guild’s connections to obtain it.

    He had nearly succeeded in preparing a brilliant future for Gye Cheolyeong.

    But perhaps because the feat was too grand…

    Gye Yeonseok’s arrogance ruined everything.

    “Or maybe… he placed too much trust in the masters of Mount Hua.”

    A master from Mount Hua was visiting the merchant guild.

    Gye Yeonseok wasn’t one to let a golden opportunity slip. To promote the close relationship between Mount Hua and his guild, he threw a banquet.

    But the day before Gye Cheolyeong was to take the Snow Plum Elixir, it vanished—completely—from the depths of the guild’s most secure vault.

    An unidentified being had stolen the Snow Plum Elixir right under the noses of the Mount Hua Sects masters.

    Gye Yeonseok, left in the pathetic position of a dog chasing a chicken, clung to the Mount Hua Sect for help, but they merely told him they bore no responsibility since the elixir had been stolen after they had already handed it over. Then they left without further concern.

    Later, Gye Yeonseok scraped together a fortune again and managed to obtain another batch of the Plum Blossom Elixir, but the event left a deep scar on his heart. Those around him didn’t dare bring up the Snow Plum Elixir in his presence.

    But one man’s tragedy is another man’s tavern tale.

    People continued to talk about it for years.

    Back then, there were many rumors about who had taken the Snow Plum Elixir, but it never appeared in the world again.

    “To think that playing the role of a walking library would prove this useful.”

    I began sifting through the information in my head.

    First: the monthly report from the Martial Alliance’s Hefei branch.

    I needed to analyse all incidents and the movements of major figures in Hefei for a month before and after the day the Snow Plum Elixir was stolen.

    Second: the Martial Alliance’s entry and exit records.

    Any master capable of evading the eyes of the Mount Hua Sects elites would likely be affiliated with the Martial Alliance.

    If I went through the entry logs, I could figure out who had moved where and when.

    Third: mission reports.

    From those sent on missions by the Martial Alliance, I could filter out anyone who had visited Hefei around the date of the incident.

    And then, using the deduction method Jegal Cheongi had taught me, I began to sort through the data.

    “Four people.”

    Four names floated to the surface of my mind.

    • Chu Hon-gaek, the Poison Phantom
    • Song Won-gi, one of the Five-Star Gentlemans.
    • Gu Il-mu of the Spear and Blade Five
    • Jang Han-gi of the Spear and Blade Five

    Two of the Spear and Blade Five had visited Hefei three days before the incident, stayed for three days, and then left on another mission.

    Song Won-gi.

    He had been staying in Hefei for a month before the incident and remained there for two months after it occurred.

    Though technically a wanderer, his conduct was so upright that others in the martial world had given him the title of “gentleman.” His skills were near the peak of martial arts, and he had the wealth to buy a hundred Snow Plum Elixirs if he so desired. Yet, like a scholar wholly devoted to his books, he had dedicated himself entirely to the sword.

    The last was Chu Hon-gaek.

    He was from the Dark Path.

    Rather than martial arts, he excelled in poisons and trickery, and he had a deep greed for wealth.

    When rumors of the Snow Plum Elixir began to circulate, he showed up in Hefei—and vanished the day the elixir disappeared.

    From that day on, there was no mention of him in any Martial Alliance report.

    “Chu Hon-gaek…”

    As I followed the trail of logic, I hit a wall.

    Each branch of the Alliance is required to report the movements of major figures across the land. But there was no trace of Chu Hon-gaek anywhere.

    That meant he had likely gone into hiding after the incident.

    And especially for thieves like him, assuming multiple identities using human-skin masks wasn’t uncommon.

    He might have erased the identity of “Chu Hon-gaek” entirely after stealing the Snow Plum Elixir.

    “But no new person showed up around that time.”

    I rampaged through the mental archives for any new thieves that had appeared after Chu Hon-gaek vanished, but none matched.

    Then, while digging through other mission reports, I let out a laugh.

    “Ha!”

    So that’s the trick he used.

    “No wonder there were no traces.”

    If my hunch was right, he wouldn’t even need to worry about being pursued after stealing the elixir.

    “This might be easier than I thought.”

    Feeling reassured, I stepped over the corpse of the spider, ready to leave the cave—when an overwhelming force suddenly yanked on my left arm.

    “?”

    I instinctively looked down at my left hand—and was stunned.

    Coiled around my wrist was a blue dragon.

    The Azure Dragon Ring I had worn in my previous life was glowing beneath my skin.

    What in the world is going on?

    It was strange enough that the ring I once wore was now embedded in my body—but even more bizarre was the fact that it was clearly pulling toward the corpse of the spider.

    “Is it craving the inner core?”

    The Human-faced Spider’s inner core was so venomous that even touching it risked severe poisoning. I hadn’t dared go near it.

    And yet, the Azure Dragon Ring seemed to be pulling toward it.

    Rip!

    The stench that burst forth as I cut open the Human-faced Spider’s belly stung my eyes.

    The ring, now shining brighter, surged toward the core as if it had found its long-lost meal.

    “…What do I do now?”

    The Azure Dragon Ring was a relic from one of the Vampire Demon Kings of the Buddhist Guardian Sect.

    I had kept it to commemorate a hard-won victory in Sojeongdae, and until the day I died, it had been a symbol of that unit for me.

    “Screw it. Whatever.”

    As soon as I grasped the Human-faced Spider’s core—

    Sizzle!

    “Ggh!”

    A searing heat surged through my palm, burning as it seeped in.

    I tried to let go, fearing the venom might spread through my body—but then…

    “Huh?”

    A cool, refreshing sensation began to flow up my palm.

    What had started as a small trickle like a stream soon grew into a mighty river that coursed through my entire body.

    It was a completely different kind of refreshment than when I absorbed the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng. A shiver ran through my whole body.

    The core that had been in my hand vanished without a trace, and I could feel a slightly larger mass settled in my dantian.

    “Heh… this…”

    I looked at the dimming Azure Dragon Ring with disbelief.

    “Should I be happy about this… or not?”

  • The genius martial artist who remembers everything Chapter 3

    Note : Hey everyone, I just realized the last chapter was incomplete, so I quickly fixed it. Please check it out so the content below makes sense.


    “So now you’re saying you won’t attend Busaeng Hall?”

    Chaos broke out in the Taeulmun Sect after the incident.

    Gye Yeonseung’s nephew, Gye Cheolyeong, had been injured, prompting his father—Gyeryong Merchants head Gye Yeonseok—to make a huge fuss.

    During the investigation, Gye Yeonseung’s careless teaching was exposed.

    As a result, he was held accountable and expelled from Busaeng Hall, and was now banned from entering the Taeulmun Sect entirely.

    Though Gye Yeonseok whined about losing someone to protect his precious son, the situation was already out of his hands.

    “I already received completion recognition from the previous Busaeng Hall Master. So there’s no need for me to attend anymore.”

    My father wore an even grimmer expression than usual.

    To others, his face might inspire fear. To me, it still stirred an ache deep in my chest.

    I quickly looked away, worried I might tear up.

    “I still can’t believe it. How could you possibly beat Gye Yeonseung? Did you cheat or something?”

    “Oh, that’s the same thing Gye Yeonseung said—right before his arm was broken. Want yours broken too, Father?”

    “What did you say?!”

    “In any case, I’m free until the other disciples finish Busaeng Hall.”

    “Of all people, why did you have to bust Gye Cheolyeong’s thick skull…”

    My father, Jin Taesan, is the head of the Outer Hall, responsible for external affairs of the sect.

    Since the Gyeryong Merchants are our biggest backers, this outcome couldn’t have pleased him.

    “The merchant lord already admitted fault. Isn’t that enough?”

    “You brat! Do you think Gye Yeonseok is the kind of man to leave it at just words?! If the Taeulmun Sect’s meals get cut down to two a day, do you think the other disciples will just sit quietly?!”

    “Watch your words, please. How is that my fault? That’s the failure of our incompetent Outer Hall Lord.”

    “You little—!”

    “Well then, I’ll be going now.”

    “Go where?! If you’re not attending Busaeng Hall, help out with the Outer Hall work!”

    “I’ve got personal things to do.”

    “Like what?”

    “I’m at the age where hair’s growing on my face. Please respect my privacy.”

    “What?!”

    Jin Taesan’s beard began trembling at my absurd response.

    But really—how could I just outright say, “I need to prepare to protect the Taeulmun Sect from the return of the Demonic Cult”?

    As his hand inched toward the club resting against the wall, I bolted out of the room.

    “Then, I’m off—!”

    “You brat! Get back here!”


    “Are you that rootless brat Jin Sowoon?”

    After escaping from his menacing father, a pig-faced old man with sagging cheeks blocked his path.

    “Who are you?”

    “You don’t… know who I am?”

    How could he not?

    Fancy silk robes that didn’t suit him. A jade-studded golden belt and a crudely oversized gold ring.

    There was only one person in the entire Taeulmun Sect who would wear such a tasteless outfit.

    Gye Yeonseok, father of Gye Cheolyeong—the man who turned the sect upside down day in and day out, his robes fluttering like banners.

    “What business do you have with me?”

    “You bastard! Watch your mouth! This is Lord Gye Yeonseok, the head of the Gyeryong Trading Company!”

    A man who seemed to be an escort glared fiercely, eyes wide and twitching.

    “Yes, I understand. Head of the Gyeryong Trading Company. And as I asked, what business do you have with me?”

    Gye Yeonseok snorted in disbelief.

    “Because of you, my Cheolyeong is injured and unable to get up. Do you think you can get away with doing that to the heir of the Gyeryong Trading Company?”

    He did bleed a little, sure. But calling a single hit to the head an incapacitating injury was pushing it.

    By that logic, what about all the Taeulmun Sect disciples who had been pummeled countless times by Gye Cheolyeong under the guise of sparring?

    “Didn’t we already agree to let it go?”

    “That was between me and your sect leader. But between you and me, things are far from over.”

    At this point, was this shamelessness a martial art in itself?

    “And if I don’t let it go?”

    The escort’s hand went to his sword, ready to draw at any moment.

    “If you’re afraid of getting hit, you should be teaching accounting, not martial arts.”

    “Y-You insolent wretch! How dare you—!”

    I ignored him and turned to Gye Yeonseok, who was silently rolling his eyes, deep in thought.

    “If Senior Gye is admitted into the Martial Academy, are you planning to chase him there and demand compensation from the heirs of the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans as well?”

    Both Gye Yeonseok and the escort looked taken aback.

    Had they not thought that far ahead?

    Or had they assumed the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans wouldn’t harm newcomers?

    “You’re not answering. Seems like you don’t have the guts for that. But if you’re here throwing your weight around at the Taeulmun Sect, I guess you think we’re easy targets.”

    “Y-You little…!”

    Gye Yeonseok’s booming voice drew the attention of the hall masters and even the sect leader from the Great Pavilion.

    “More than ten of our disciples have been bedridden for days from being beaten by Senior Gye. If you want to blame someone, maybe start with the one who caused that.”

    “You impudent…!”

    That was all he could say—“You impudent…!”—until suddenly he smirked with satisfaction.

    “What if, because of you, the Taeulmun Sect loses its sponsorship? Will you take responsibility for that?”

    That was always the problem.

    Half the current disciples were born and raised in the sect like me.

    The other half came from poor families, not even well-off by village standards.

    Most joined the sect to lessen the burden on their families.

    Just as hardship forces a child to grow up fast, we knew better than anyone how resisting Gye Cheolyeong could bring harm to others.

    “Responsibility?”

    And that’s precisely why Gye Cheolyeong and Gye Yeonseok could act so brazenly within the Taeulmun Sect.

    “There are other ‘One Hundred and Eight Peaks’ that want Cheolyeong. We can move him anytime. Will you still take responsibility then?”

    Cheolyeong’s enrollment meant a massive influx of sponsorship.

    And the Taeulmun Sect wasn’t the only struggling peak among the 108.

    “The fact that many places want Cheolyeong” was a hidden threat, forcing those living here to swallow their complaints.

    That’s why we had never harmed a newcomer like other sects.

    “Then by all means.”

    “What?”

    “Responsibility? I’ll take it. So go ahead.”

    From the distance, my father—who had been approaching while conversing with another hall master—turned pale and rushed over in alarm.

    “The special recruitment exam is less than a year away. Do you really think Senior Gye will be treated as well elsewhere as he is here? And what sect would welcome a mere one-year guest like him just for a bit of temporary funding?”

    “You… you—”

    My father stopped mid-step.

    “The disciples of Taeulmun Sect are not fools. We’ve learned the virtue of a gentleman. We simply choose not to associate with the low and vulgar people.”

    Gye Yeonseok trembled, grinding his teeth.

    “I swear I will bring great harm to the Taeulmun Sect. Because of you, the disciples will soon go hungry and wear rags!”

    A blatant threat.

    I whispered coldly in his ear.

    “Do you really think I’ll let that happen?”

    And with my father finally breaking into a run, I turned my back and left the Taeulmun Sect.

    There was far too much to do.

    In my previous life, after Gye Cheolyeong was specially admitted to the Martial Academy, Taeulmun Sect’s sponsorship rapidly dwindled.

    Though he was a secular disciple, it was as if he cut all ties. Within a few years, the funds dried up completely, and Taeulmun Sect’s disciples had to endure hunger.

    “If that’s going to happen anyway, someone other than Gye Cheolyeong should go.”

    Considering that the Taeulmun Sect would eventually get caught in the war between the orthodox and unorthodox sects, someone from here had to join the Martial Academy. Joining as a low-level warrior would just make them cannon fodder.

    “The problem is, Taeulmun Sect’s martial arts are just too…”

    Trash….

    According to Jegal Cheongi, the only usable techniques were the Socheon Sword Technique and the Taeulmun Internal Technique.

    All the countless martial techniques had no synergy whatsoever with the foundational Taeulmun Internal Technique.

    With roots and branches so disconnected, it was no wonder not a single great master had emerged in the sect’s hundreds of years of history.

    In my head, I carried the combined martial knowledge of the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans.

    “If I practiced any of that, the entire Taeulmun Sect would be wiped out before the Heavenly Demon Cult even returned.”

    Which meant the only way I could become strong now was by overwhelming others with internal energy.

    “Just as the Yangtze carves through stone.”

    But with the Taeulmun Internal Technique, it would take about 200 years of cultivation to build up even a first-rate warrior’s worth of internal energy.

    So I’d need to consume as many elixirs as possible—but elixirs aren’t called that because they grow on trees.

    “…Heh. But there is a way.”

    I immediately dove into the library I had constructed in my mind.

    While other disciples of the Martial Alliance died helplessly at the hands of the demonic cult, I remained behind, memorizing useless reports and documents that took up far too much space.

    But as the demonic horde overwhelmed even the last lines of defense, I had no choice but to memorize everything in Mantong Division and the Simhyeon Pavilion as well.

    More confidential and far more complicated than the usual reports.

    I stopped trying to understand or absorb it all and instead created a massive archive in my mind, simply to store it.

    And from the deepest part of that mental archive, I retrieved one book.

    The Compendium of Elixirs of the Martial World.

    A secret document covering the discovered locations, appearance times, and transportation routes of elixirs that would appear over the next 20 years.

    Though labeled “classified,” it was really just a record of elixirs already found.

    Back then, I worked myself to the brink of mental collapse memorizing such useless information—nosebleeds all day, every day.

    All that suffering paid off… with betrayal.

    “Still makes me furious. That damned Taechung Divine Sword…”

    He was my childhood idol.

    An unrivaled genius of the Heaven Beyond Heaven sect at our age.

    The hero who swiftly unified the fragmented Martial Alliance during the Great War of Righteousness and Evil.

    And the one who kept the Martial Alliance alive when it was on the verge of disappearing from the world.

    But to do that, the Taechung Divine Sword sacrificed nearly everyone.

    The Martial Alliance, rebuilt in the North Sea, stood atop the corpses and blood of the fallen.

    “I’ll never trust you or the Martial Alliance again.”

    Grinding my teeth, I made my way toward the location of the first elixir: the Thousand-Year Polygonum.

  • The genius martial artist who remembers everything Chapter 2

    “…Senior brother, what are you doing?”

    Right now, I was looking at Geumpyo, whose death I remembered vividly from my past life.

    “Geumpyo…”

    “Yes?”

    “I’m sorry.”

    “Huh?”

    Geumpyo hurriedly rummaged through her clothes and pulled out a small pouch.

    “Don’t tell me… you ate my candy?”

    “…”

    What the hell was I thinking, living like that in my past life?

    “…Anyway, I’m sorry.”

    “The candy’s all here, though… What the heck?”

    After apologizing to Geumpyo, whom I failed to protect in my previous life, and easing a bit of guilt, I asked her,

    “Isn’t it class time right now? Why are you here instead?”

    Geumpyo gave me an suspicious look.

    “If you know that, why are you lying on a bench?”

    “I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

    “That’s been your excuse for a week now.”

    “Has it already been that long?”

    But I had my own reasons.

    From this moment on, I needed to think through the disasters that would befall us in the future, and figure out when and how Taeulmun had started to go wrong.

    “I’ve been busy, in my own way…”

    “…You don’t sound the least bit convincing.”

    “It’s true. I’ve been worrying about the future of our sect.”

    My sect, Taeulmun, was a small sword sect near Hefei in Anhui Province.

    It had a long history but no traditions, a variety of martial arts but little actual strength.

    So when parents of disciples compared us to the larger martial academies, most of them chose the academies instead.

    If we had any advantages at all, it would be that we provided one meal a day, and that we held one of the seats among the ‘One Hundred and Eight Peaks’ of the Murim Alliance.

    How we even managed to become one of the 108 Peaks is the real mystery.

    Our sect had neither strength nor wealth. We never once bribed any of the higher-ups in the alliance, yet we never lost our place among the Peaks.

    Holding a seat in the ‘108 Peaks’ grants a sect some protection from territory disputes and armed conflicts with other sects.

    No matter what the justification, when sect wars break out, the Murim Alliance sides with the ‘108 Peaks.’ That was their rule.

    Thanks to that, Taeulmun had a degree of freedom in the wild, chaotic struggles between sects in Hefei.

    But that very title of being among the ‘108 Peaks’ was also what eventually led to our destruction, so I couldn’t say it was a good thing either.

    How was I supposed to navigate this contradiction—

    “…Senior brother!”

    “…Hm?”

    “Taeulmun is just fine, so stop worrying and get up already!”

    “…How could a mere crow grasp the grand thoughts of a stork?”

    “The head of Busaeng Hall is asking for you.”

    “That guy? Why?”

    “…Still, calling the Hall Leader that guy is a bit…”

    The current head of Busaeng Hall wasn’t someone from Taeulmun.

    To be exact, he was from the Gyeryong Trading Group, the younger brother of its head. His only bragging right was that he had once been an outer disciple of Mount Hua.

    So why was a guy like that leading one of our halls?

    Because the head of the trading group, worried that his precious son—who had joined Taeulmun as an outer disciple—might learn some “dangerous” martial arts so he had sent his brother to keep watch.

    This nonsensical arrangement came about thanks to one of the privileges of being among the ‘108 Peaks’: the special admissions quota for the Murim Academy.

    The first step toward success in the Murim Alliance was admission into the Murim Academy.

    But standard admission was extremely difficult.

    So the pampered young master of Gyeryong Trading Group joined our third-rate sect as an outer disciple just to get in via the special route granted to the Peaks.

    And our penniless Taeulmun complied with most of their demands in order to receive support from the trading group.

    “What else would I call a guy like that, if not that guy?”

    Geumpyo giggled as if thoroughly satisfied.

    “Anyway, he says you have to attend today.”

    “Hmm… was there a sparring match planned?”

    “…That seems to be the atmosphere.”

    Geumpyo’s face turned dark.

    Sparring—legalized violence under a polite name.

    Right now, sparring class was the most hated class among Taeulmun’s disciples.

    “Tsk. And all that guy from Mount Hua could think to do was this?”

    I slowly rose to my feet.

    They weren’t faces I wanted to see, but I couldn’t just sit back while my junior disciples were getting beaten.


    Crack!

    “Ugh!”

    As soon as I stepped into Busaeng Hall, I saw one of our sect’s disciples clutching his head and rolling on the ground.

    Saryeon rushed over, checked his injuries, and glared daggers at Gye Cheolyeong.

    Whatever she meant by it, Gye Cheolyeong completely misread the look and grinned proudly.

    “What do you think? Cool, huh?”

    That idiot… tsk.

    I approached the kid Saryeon was helping.

    “Let me take a look.”

    Thankfully, there was no serious injury.

    Head wounds are scary if they bleed, but there’s no way someone like Gye Cheolyeong could hit hard enough to be dangerous.

    “When you get home, put a cold stone on it. It’ll help reduce the swelling.”

    “O-okay…”

    The boy wiped the tears from his eyes and returned to his seat bravely.

    “What? Didn’t you say you had a headache? Are you feeling better now?”

    I shook my head at Saryeon’s question.

    “No, my head’s even more of a mess now, that’s why I came out.”

    “…What?”

    Ignoring her puzzled look, I turned to Gye Yeonseung, the head of Busaeng Hall.

    “How about ending the sparring session here?”

    “What?”

    “Looks like a fair number of the disciples have already gotten hurt.”

    More than half of the students sitting around were clutching their heads, shoulders, or arms.

    Every one of them had been assaulted in the name of sparring.

    “Jin Sowoon, you show up late and now spout nonsense?”

    “Let’s be honest. This whole thing is just a way for Gye Cheolyeong to show off, isn’t it?”

    “What did you say?!”

    I looked at Gye Cheolyeong standing smugly next to Gye Yeonseung.

    “And as for you, senior Gye. I don’t care how blind Saryeon might be—do you seriously think someone like you has a chance with her? Dream on.”

    “Jin Sowoon, you bastard!”

    His face turned red, and he looked ready to lunge at me.

    But Gye Yeonseung raised his hand to stop him.

    “You mean to tell me that’s all you see in this sparring?”

    His eyes burned with anger, but I continued unbothered.

    “Honestly, what are you teaching in Busaeng Hall these days? All they ever do is endurance training and sparring.”

    “That’s all part of preparing for real combat—”

    “If that’s all there is, they’d be better off practicing forms on their own.”

    “You—!”

    Gye Yeonseung’s face turned beet red, as if it might explode.

    “You dare say something like that in front of a disciple of the Mount Hua Sect?!”

    “Aren’t you just an outer disciple though? Same as you, Senior Gye—learned the sword by paying for it.”

    I only stated the truth, but somehow, Gye Yeonseung looked even angrier.

    This must be why they say even truth can be a form of violence.

    “You—! You little brat!”

    A killing intent began to seep from Gye Yeonseung’s body.

    Not just Saryeon and the other disciples, even Gye Cheolyeong instinctively withdrew in fear and took a step back.

    Strangely enough, I wasn’t scared at all. It’s not like I was stronger than Gye Yeonseung in martial arts.

    Well, compared to the bastards I faced in my past life, this level of killing intent is child’s play.

    Satisfied with that reasoning, I kept speaking.

    If I can’t hit him with strength, then hitting with words—that’s the Sojeongdae way.

    “Honestly, I wish you or the sect leader would stop doing things like this. If you did, at least us inner disciples would have a chance to learn Taeulmun’s martial arts.”

    “Heh… hehehe. You’re saying it’s better to learn from the sect leader than from me?”

    “It’s not like I can learn anything from you anyway. Outer disciples aren’t allowed to pass on sect techniques. Not to mention, you have no actual combat experience.”

    “Ugh…”

    Gye Yeonseung began trembling with rage.

    Saryeon crept up beside me and whispered urgently.

    “What are you doing, senior?! Are you crazy?”

    “I don’t know. I’m just telling the truth.”

    Screw it. I’ve had enough.

    A future filled with nothing but despair.

    A powerless me.

    Maybe if I die here by Gye Yeonseung’s sword, Gye Cheolyeong will have no choice but to leave Taeulmun?

    Then there might be a chance for a sect disciple to get into Murim Academy via special admission.

    But then again, would sending one person even change anything?

    Even if you get into the Murim Alliance as a low-rank warrior, you’re just a meat shield.

    Still, to take an active role in the Great War of Justice and Evil, getting into Murim Academy is essential.

    I must not let Gye Cheolyeong, who only wants to join the Academy for the sake of fame within the Alliance, take that opportunity.

    “Hmph… so that’s what you think? Fine. You must think you’re skilled enough to talk like that. Then step forward! Prove it in front of Cheolyeong!”

    This is how it always goes.

    When all else fails, it comes down to a contest of skill—leaving no more room for words.

    If this were the past, I’d have backed down at this point.

    But now… it’s time to teach them a lesson.

    Even if it’s just venting for the sake of it—if it helps me feel better, then it’s worth something.

    I reached my hand out to Saryeon.

    She hid her wooden sword behind her back and said,

    “…Senior, if you fight now, you’ll get seriously hurt. Just apologize.”

    “I’ve done nothing wrong, so there’s nothing to apologize for.”

    I unfolded my white-gloved hand and took the wooden sword from hers, then stepped forward.

    “Jin Sowoon! Prepare your battle stance!”

    “Why use a formal duel stance against Senior Gye…? Let’s just get this over with.”

    I slung the wooden sword over my shoulder, signaling I was ready.

    My carefree attitude clearly irritated them—Gye Cheolyeong’s expression wasn’t much different from Gye Yeonseung’s.

    “Jin Sowoon! How dare you speak like that!”

    “Senior, let’s just start already.”

    “You need a real beating.”

    Gye Cheolyeong began assuming a stance that wasn’t part of Taeulmun’s martial arts.

    The Samyeong Sword—got beat by that so many damn times in my past life.

    It was a style learned from an infamous wanderer of Shaanxi, Heon Wonsu, brought in as a private instructor.

    I memorized its forms and techniques the moment I saw them, but back then, I didn’t have the skills to dodge or counter them.

    But now, I had the shining experience of a former low-rank warrior of the Murim Alliance, who stood as a meat shield in Sojeongdae against all manner of martial cult death squads, including the Heavenly Demon Black Sword Unit.

    I wasn’t about to be beaten down one-sidedly by a twenty-year-old Gye Cheolyeong.

    “Begin!!”

    The moment Gye Yeonseung’s voice fell, Gye Cheolyeong dashed forward, gliding across the ground with swift footwork.

    It definitely wasn’t Taeulmun’s stepping technique.

    For a split second, his attack aimed for my eyes.

    As expected from a wanderer’s sword style—his strikes were rough and ferocious.

    The younger Taeulmun disciples were clearly shaken.

    But.

    Compared to those lunatic killers from the demonic cult, this is child’s play.

    Besides, Gye Cheolyeong lacked the desperate drive that Heon Wonsu had when he fought for his life.

    Even if it’s the same sword technique, it’s a completely different performance.

    I didn’t even need any of the martial arts I’d gained in my past life.

    The basic Socheon Sword Technique that every kid from Busaeng Hall knew was enough.

    Clack.

    I struck Gye Cheolyeong’s sword upward with the flat of my blade, then unleashed the third form of Socheon Sword.

    Papapak!

    In an instant, my wooden sword tapped several parts of his body.

    “Guh!”

    His eyes went wide, as if suddenly snapped back to reality.

    I pressed forward with the Socheon Sword Technique again, pushing Gye Cheolyeong back.

    “Huh…”

    “…Whoa.”

    “That’s the Socheon Sword, right?”

    Recognizing the familiar moves, the kids gasped in surprise.

    On the other hand, Gye Cheolyeong couldn’t even respond properly to a technique he knew, struggling with each attack.

    Eventually, he broke form and left himself open.

    “There’s an opening, Senior!”

    I brought my sword down with all my might.

    Crack!

    With the sound of something breaking, a scream erupted.

    “Aaaagh!”

    Gye Cheolyeong dropped his sword and began rolling on the ground clutching his head.

    “Gyaaaaa!”

    After a brief silence, the Taeulmun kids began to scream.

    “““Waaaaaaah!”””

    “Silence! Silence! Quiet!!”

    Gye Yeonseung, inspecting Gye Cheolyeong, roared with killing intent in his voice.

    “Back to your places!”

    The children, terrified by the pressure of a martial master—an adult martial master—quickly returned to their spots, swallowing hard.

    “Aaargh, my head!”

    Clutching his skull, Gye Cheolyeong looked at his hands.

    They were stained red.

    Gye Yeonseung saw it too and glared at me as if he wanted to kill me.

    “What happened!”

    “What do you mean?”

    “I asked how you managed to beat Cheolyeong!”

    “I beat him using the Socheon Sword.”

    “There’s no way the Samyeong Sword would lose to something like Socheon—”

    Gye Yeonseung suddenly cut himself off.

    No matter how much the Gyerong Trading Company controlled Taeulmun, there were lines you did not cross. He was moving dangerously close to one.

    “The Samyeong Sword and Socheon Sword differ greatly in structure. I asked how you bridged that gap.”

    A roundabout way of speaking.

    What he was really asking was: How could a basic technique like Socheon Sword defeat the Samyeong Sword, a style that has created peak-level masters?

    “Where in the world is there such a thing as ‘absolute’? If the practitioner’s skill is lacking…”

    I stopped mid-sentence as sudden realization struck me like a blow to the head.

    • The Demonic Cult will return.
    • The Murim Alliance will fall at the hands of the Demonic Cult.
    • Since the Taeulmun Sect belongs to the Murim Alliance, it too will fall.
    • In the midst of it all, with my uselessly good memory, I’ll be used here and there until I die.

    Is this also something that ‘absolutely’ cannot be changed?

    “You can’t even speak straight. You’re clearly using some kind of trickery, aren’t you?”

    While I was momentarily lost in thought, Gye Yeonseung’s nonsense made me frown.

    “…What nonsense is that now?”

    “The gap between basic sword techniques and advanced ones cannot be compared. That’s common knowledge for anyone who practices martial arts.”

    “Does Mount Hua teach its disciples to make excuses like that when their skills fall short?”

    “You dare…! Take that back, right now!”

    “Am I wrong?”

    “Fine! Then try to bridge that gap—against me.”

    “…”

    Contempt flickered in the eyes of Hong Saryeon and the disciples.

    No matter how you looked at it, this was an adult throwing a tantrum at a child.

    “Are you serious?”

    “I, of course, will not use internal energy and will face you with techniques alone. What, can’t prove yourself?”

    “Before that, shouldn’t you take Senior Brother Gye to a physician?”

    Gye Cheolyeong, who had been screaming in pain, suddenly stopped crying and shook his head like nothing had happened—probably hoping Gye Yeonseung would take revenge for him.

    “I-I’m fine.”

    Dude, you’re still bleeding.

    “I’ll ask again. Can you not prove it?”

    Maybe I had already given in to defeat before I even took the first step.

    Certainly, my situation is just as despairing as in my past life.

    But more importantly, isn’t the ‘me’ of now clearly different from the ‘me’ of before?

    Like I said—there’s no such thing as an ‘absolute.’

    If everything were predetermined, then the fact that our Sojeongdae captured the Guardian Law King of the Demonic Cult would make no sense at all.

    So I won’t run away in fear like before!

    I raised my head and looked at Gye Yeonseung.

    “What if I do prove it?”

    “…What?”

    “If I prove it, what will you do? Isn’t it strange for an adult to throw a fit at a kid without offering them anything in return?”

    Gye Yeonseung’s face stiffened.

    That was the expression of someone who genuinely wanted to kill me.

    “What do you want?”

    What do I need right now?

    If I won’t give up on the opportunity, the one thing I need above all else is time.

    “If I win, acknowledge that I’ve completed Busaeng Hall. I won’t be attending it anymore.”

    “…Fine.”

    Gye Yeonseung stepped aside and picked up a wooden sword.

    The energy radiating from him was intense—this wouldn’t end with just a broken arm.

    I raised my own wooden sword.

    Come to think of it, what Sect Leader Hong Moongi offered to the Gyerong Merchants was the ‘opportunity’ to take the entrance test.

    That same opportunity to compete for the “special admission slot” was available to us too—even against Gye Cheolyeong.

    And yet, none of us Taeulmun disciples, including myself, ever dared to try.

    The result of our failure to seize it? The destruction of our sect.

    I can’t just sit and watch that same nightmare play out again.

    “Begin!”

    The sword technique most favoured by Gye Yeonseung, an external disciple of Mount Hua, was the Plum Blossom Sword Technique—one of Mount Hua’s ultimate skills.

    In my head, I could already see every path that sword technique would take.

    And with it, all of its weaknesses.

    The unparalleled genius Jegal Cheongi had analysed martial arts from the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans to create counter-techniques—Shattering Styles, Amplification Styles, and Demon-Slaying Styles—capable of opposing the Demonic Cult.

    But the problem was, with the Nine Sects and Five Clans scattered and divided across the world so there was no way to deliver the Jegal Trinity Style to them.

    That’s when I—possessing the useless ability of perfect memory—was entrusted with the task.

    Even if I lack internal energy, Cheongi’s Shattering Style will work.

    Gye Yeonseung began to unleash the Plum Blossom Sword Technique.

    Though the fragrance of plum blossoms didn’t float through the air since he wasn’t channeling inner power but each movement was still elegantly executed.

    I instantly recalled the Shattering Style that countered the Plum Blossom Technique and went in to strike its weakness.

    “You brat—!”

    Just as I had done to Gye Cheolyeong, when Gye Yeonseung’s wooden sword came down to strike my head—

    Thwack!

    “Guh!”

    His wooden sword flew from his hand, sent spinning into the air.

    “W-What…?”

    The Shattering Style against the Plum Blossom Technique had been executed.

    Though Gye Yeonseung kept trying to unleash his strongest sword form, there was no way to put strength into a technique that had already been broken.

    Did he sense something was off?

    I could feel internal energy begin to flow into his wooden sword.

    Too late!

    The Shattering Style didn’t just break the non-enhanced version of the Plum Blossom Technique—it shattered the inner-power-enhanced version as well, and simultaneously knocked the sword from his grip.

    “!!”

    His wooden sword flew from his hands in an instant.

    I slammed my own down toward his head, and he raised both arms to block.

    Crack!

    “Guh!”

    With a dull sound, Gye Yeonseung’s sword—already dislodged—struck the wall behind him hard.

    Thunk. Clatter.

    His wooden sword rolled across the floor.

    He had barely blocked mine with both hands.

    Silence briefly settled over the Busaeng Hall.

    “““Wooooahhhh!!”””

    The Taeulmun Sect disciples all rushed out and surrounded me.

    Gye Yeonseung stared at his hands in disbelief.

    I slowly looked around.

    This was something that had never happened in my past life.

    That’s right. This life is different. Everything from now on will be different.

  • The genius martial artist who remembers everything Chapter 1

     

    Amidst mountain ranges piercing through the clouds, at the edge of a steep, razor-sharp cliff, a small, hunched man sat alone.

    He was gazing regretfully at the drifting white clouds, silent.

    “…Hm?”

    Then his eyebrows twitched upward, and the words he spoke lingered in the air.

    “Yong Soa… No, I should call you the Azure Celestial Sword now, shouldn’t I? For such a noble figure to come all the way out here…”

    Before he could even finish his sentence, a man clad in spotless, pure-white martial robes appeared before him in a flash of movement, as if emerging from thin air.

    Tap.

    The man known as the Azure Celestial Sword, spoke with a voice as deep and imposing as his majestic appearance.

    “Are you Jin Sowoon, Commander of Sojeongdae?”

    “Commander, you say…”

    Still gazing at the clouds, the man called Jin Sowoon replied:

    “…Have all the members of Sojeongdae died?”

    “…”

    “Then I suppose I am the Commander. If they’re alive, I’m not.”

    “I asked if you are Jin Sowoon.”

    “You already knew who I was before you came. Why bother asking?”

    At those words, the Azure Celestial Sword unsheathed his sword.

    “I’ve come to reclaim something.”

    “….”

    Jin Sowoon finally raised his head to look at him, then turned his gaze back to the floating clouds.

    Even in the face of obvious killing intent, his voice was calm.

    “I already restored all the lost records of the Murim Alliance, didn’t I?”

    “You’re in possession of records you were never meant to have.”

    “Most of what I restored was useless junk and irrelevant data.”

    “We know you have retained the records from Simhyeongak.”

    “…”

    Simhyeongak.

    The archive where the Murim Alliance’s top-class secrets were stored.
    Accessible only to a few, including the Alliance Leader and the Chief Strategist.
    It was the very reason the current Murim Alliance Leader—the Azure Celestial Sword—had come this far.

    Jin Sowoon spoke in a emotionless voice.

    “Damn it all… I said I wouldn’t look. But I figured it’d end like this.”

    “…”

    “So… did you really come all the way from the Northern Sea just to kill one third-rate martial artist? Evading the eyes of the Demonic Cult?”

    “For the sake of justice in the martial world, it’s something that must be settled thoroughly.”

    Jin Sowoon chuckled dryly and nodded.

    “What happened to the rest of Sojeongdae?”

    “I don’t know.”

    “Hmph. Of course not. From the beginning, we were just disposable tools to people like you.”

    “It was all for the greater cause—”

    Damn that “greater cause.”

    It was that so-called cause that had thrown them into certain death.

    Jin Sowoon’s voice filled with mockery.

    “Did your grand cause bring prosperity in the Northern Sea?”

    The tip of the Azure Celestial Sword’s blade trembled.

    The martial world had changed hands. The Murim Alliance had collapsed.

    Its high-ranking members had barely escaped to the Northern Sea, barely keeping their name alive.

    Cough.

    Jin Sowoon’s frail body staggered toward the Azure Celestial Sword, prompting him to step slightly aside.

    Even the pristine white edge of his robes withdrew.

    Jin Sowoon scoffed as he looked at him.

    “So, in the end, you failed.”

    “The Murim Alliance will rebuild a new stronghold for the martial world.”

    “I may have once belonged to the Murim Alliance, but I sincerely hope such a wretched world never rises again.”

    “…You’ve been tainted by the Demonic Cult.”

    Just as the Azure Celestial Sword raised his sword to take off Jin Sowoon’s head in one swift stroke—

    Wham!

    Like someone sensing a ghost creeping up from behind, he suddenly shuddered and whipped his head around.

    It was someone he never expected to appear in this place.

    “…Why is he here?!”

    The Azure Celestial Sword turned his glare back to Jin Sowoon.

    “So you’ve been colluding with the Demonic Cult this whole time?”

    Still relaxed, Jin Sowoon turned his head to look off into the distance.

    “Come on now. A nobody like me? You think I could get someone that important to move? Just a coincidence.”

    “…”

    “Well, are you going to keep standing there?”

    Before the words had fully left his mouth, the Azure Celestial Sword kicked off the ground and vanished.

    But he didn’t leave completely—he positioned himself atop a peak overlooking the cliff.

    Moments later, footsteps approached.

    Step. Step.

    This time, a man in black martial robes slowly walked toward Jin Sowoon.

    Without turning, Jin Sowoon spoke.

    “Black Lion, Gwak Goong.”

    The man called Gwak Goong couldn’t hide his surprise.

    Jin Sowoon had his back turned the whole time.

    “How did you know?”

    “Strange. So many visitors today. On such a nice day, too.”

    “I asked how you knew.”

    “The Demonic Cult’s Vice Lord uses a unique footwork style—Blood Serpent Steps. Hidden within the third step is a twist that lets one shift in eight directions.”

    Gwak Goong’s face twisted in astonishment.

    “Huh, have we met before?”

    “Sojeongdae once stood as a meat shield against the Heavenly Demon Black Sword Unit. Ring any bells?”

    “Heh… who knows. Back then, everyone in the Murim Alliance was just meat shields to us. But I must say—it’s impressive, this claim that you remember everything.”

    “Not a useful talent for a martial artist.”

    Gwak Goong’s gaze turned toward the Azure Celestial Sword, standing ready atop the peak.

    “So, did the Murim Alliance come to save you? All the way from the Northern Sea?”

    At his question, Jin Sowoon shook his head.

    “He says there’s something he has to take back from me.”

    “?”

    Looking like he didn’t even have a single coin to his name.

    “And what might that be?”

    “This useless head.”

    Gwak Goong glanced up at the peak and clicked his tongue knowingly.

    “Tsk. I heard Sojeongdae risked everything to keep you alive because your mind holds everything the Murim Alliance ever had.”

    “That’s not it… They say it was because I wanted to live the most.”

    Jin Sowoon muttered to himself, “Fools.”

    “Touching camaraderie.”

    At Gwak Goong’s words, a spark lit up in Jin Sowoon’s eyes.

    “Demons aren’t the kind of bastards whose names you can just toss around lightly.”

    “Interesting.”

    Even though Jin Sowoon radiated killing intent, Gwak Goong didn’t flinch. On the contrary, he looked like he was daring him to try harder.

    But soon enough, Jin Sowoon withdrew his killing intent, as if he had lost the will.

    “…Do you also desire something like the Taechung Divine Sword? If he’s watching right now, the Martial Alliance might even hand over everything.”

    “What value could that kind of information possibly hold for the current Divine Cult?”

    “…Fair point. Then what brings you here?”

    “I’m here to capture the commander of the Sojeongdae—the Divine Cult’s most persistent enemy.”

    Jin Sowoon nodded a few times.

    His composed demeanor puzzled Gwak Goong.

    “You’re not afraid?”

    “…Would someone for whom life is hell fear death?”

    “But didn’t you desperately want to live? And yet life turned out to be hell?”

    “You’re a smart man. Try imagining a life where you remember everything. A life filled only with endless deaths and defeats…”

    Gwak Goong paused, then gave a slow nod.

    “Hm. You must’ve lived a tough life.”

    “Heh heh heh.”

    “What’s so funny?”

    “It’s just… I’m laughing because the demonic bastard I hated so much is now pitying me.”

    “You can be proud. You and the Sojeongdae were the most persistent enemies of the Divine Cult.”

    “So the Martial Alliance, who abandoned us so-called third-rate warriors, ends up recognized by the Demonic Cult. I guess the Martial Alliance was doomed from the start.”

    Jin Sowoon went quiet for a moment before speaking again.

    “But I’m curious. Why did the young lord himself come just to catch one third-rate warrior? Did you know the Taechung Divine Sword would show up?”

    Gwak Goong gestured to Jin Sowoon’s wrist, ignoring the nearby leader of the Martial Alliance entirely.

    “That bracelet you’re wearing.”

    Jin Sowoon looked down at the jade bracelet.

    A peculiar dragon pattern was carved into the pale green band.

    It looked completely out of place with his ragged clothing.

    “That’s a sacred relic of the Divine Cult.”

    “…Is that so?”

    Jin Sowoon raised his arm, examining the bracelet closely.

    His eyes were filled with longing, as though reminiscing.

    Lives sacrificed, exchanged for fleeting achievements.

    “When we caught the Law King of the Tiger Sect…”

    We thought the Martial Alliance—and the world—would change.

    How foolish we were.

    Jin Sowoon let out a mocking laugh at himself.

    “Any last words? If you die at the hands of a Divine Cultist, the Demon God grants your wish.”

    “Heh, only a bunch of true lunatics could find faith in a load of nonsense like that.”

    “Our god is real.”

    “A wish, huh… Then I wish to be born in a world without the Martial Alliance that abandoned us—or the Divine Cult that slaughtered us.”

    “My, what a difficult wish. This world already belongs to the Divine Cult.”

    Jin Sowoon’s body floated into the air and was sucked toward Gwak Goong’s hand.

    Guh.

    Jin Sowoon instantly felt the demonic energy coursing through his body.

    Agonizing pain—as if his nerves were being shredded and his bones crushed.

    Ahh, what a life filled with regrets. May the karma of this life end here and now.

    His senses began to fade, and the world grew dark.


    “…That definitely happened.”

    I definitely died.

    My memory has always been sharp, but I remember that day so clearly I can even recall the smell of the wind.

    That bastard appeared, and then he killed—

    My back itched. I reached out instinctively.

    Scratch, scratch.

    The cooling relief—the sensation was so vivid.

    “What the hell is going on?”

    I, who had died at the hands of the Black Lion Gwak Goong, had somehow returned—thirty years into the past, to when I was nineteen.

    Not Jin Sowoon of the Sojeongdae in the Martial Alliance—

    But Jin Sowoon from before the war began.

    Not the era when the Heavenly Demon Cult turned the world upside down—

    But when the Martial Alliance still ruled the martial world.

    “Could that wish thing have actually worked?”

    I recalled my final conversation with Gwak Goong.

    I never believed that a sketchy god, indistinguishable from a cult figure, could really grant a wish…

    But maybe it actually had some effect?

    “But… True to a demon god, it completely reversed the interpretation.”

    ‘I wish to be born in a world without the Martial Alliance or the Heavenly Demon Cult’—and yet, it sent me back to before that hellish war ever began.

    As expected, nothing good ever comes from anything with the word “demon” in it—be it the cult, the demonic energy, or the demon god itself.

    “Haa…”

    I’ve regained my youth, but I feel no joy.

    Because I clearly remember the hell that’s about to unfold over the next thirty years, and I’m still just a Tae’eul Sect disciple barely capable of becoming a second-rate martial artist.

    And I can’t help but think: this whole going-back-to-the-past thing doesn’t feel like some divine signal telling me to save the world.

    “If it were, they’d have at least given me some special power or maybe attached the soul of someone like Zhang Sanfeng, right?”

    Damn demon god.

    The Heavenly Demon Cult will rise again.

    No—that’s wrong. It already has. I’m just the only one who knows it.

    The Martial Alliance, overconfident in its power, will be swept away like falling leaves.

    And those who trusted in that alliance will fall with them.

    My own sect, trusted the Martial Alliance.

    So we were wiped out too. Damn it.

    “Just remembering it is painful enough… Do I really have to witness those horrors all over again?”

    Putting together everything that’s happened, there’s only one conclusion I can reach.

    In short—

    “I’m screwed.”

    I can’t shake the feeling that somewhere, that demon god bastard is laughing its ass off at me.

    Why? Because if I were in the demon god’s position, I’d be doing the same.