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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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“The winner of this match is! Dan Mokgyeong of the Patrol Unit!”
“Dan Mokgyeong? Who’s that?”
“I don’t know either. But…it seems certain a promising talent has emerged.”
“Indeed.”
The crowd responded with cheers and applause for the young, previously unknown boy. Mokgyeong calmly surveyed the scene, bowed, and turned to disappear into the waiting room.
Song Muhan finally staggered to his feet, staring blankly in the direction Mokgyeong had vanished, then clenched his teeth and turned away.
‘What a monster…’
Why did he feel so empty, even after such a long fight? Song Muhan shuddered, recalling the terrifying talent that had grasped the weaknesses in his martial arts and exploited his openings in less than twenty exchanges. He picked up his beloved axe from the ground.
Its blade was chipped and scarred.
As if it had blocked dozens of sword strikes.
‘Just how many times did he swing in that instant?’
The bizarre notion of compensating for lack of power with sheer number of strikes. And the execution that made that notion a reality. Song Muhan thought he might have encountered a true monster.
‘Where did someone like that even come from…’
He sighed.
In the silent waiting room, the large man’s sigh echoed.
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Fighting someone of similar skill level was simply no match.
While surprised by Mokgyeong’s absurd talent, I also understood.
This was what a wuxia protagonist should be like. Fundamentally, wuxia protagonists were overpowered. They had to be strong, almost unbelievably so.
Just when they seemed to be reaching their limit, they’d stumble upon some fortuitous encounter, rise a level, and ultimately reach a level where you’d wonder if they were even human anymore.
…The ending of the original story was so rushed that it was unclear how strong he actually became, but since he managed to kill the Heavenly Demon, it’s safe to assume he reached at least the peak of the Transcendent realm, or perhaps even higher.
The Heavenly Demon was a master of the Demonic realm, after all.
“Mister, the Top 16 matches are almost over!”
“It seems like everyone who’s going to be eliminated has been eliminated…”
“Don’t say that in front of me! It’s upsetting!”
…Right, there was someone next to me who had been eliminated.
I felt a pang of guilt at Hye-ryeong’s indignant nibbling on her finger, but I let her be. I knew this Haenam penguin would soon get over her anger and suggest we go eat.
“Benefactor, I’m back.”
“It was a good match.”
“Not at all. I still…need more training.”
A flicker of obsession flashed in Mokgyeong’s eyes as he spoke.
Revenge.
Did that mean he felt he still lacked the strength for revenge? I turned my gaze from Mokgyeong to the arena.
Revenge was fine, but I hoped he wouldn’t go off on his own like in the original story.
Frankly, his revenge in the original was rather pointless.
He’d blunder around, causing trouble here and there, only for his enemies to conveniently show up and die one by one. It was utterly absurd from a reader’s perspective. It wasn’t some Murim errand service where they lined up to be killed. This plot-hole-ridden original story was terrifying.
The original story was just a fragment of this world’s reality, so there was no telling what unimaginable curveballs might be thrown my way.
Like the existence of a pseudo-Murim in the West.
…Perhaps the state of the West was like that because there was a sequel or something.
“Well, today’s schedule is over…let’s go eat.”
We’d worked hard, so we deserved a good meal.
“I’m fine.”
“I understand what you’re thinking, but there’s no need to rush. Take things one step at a time. You might ruin things by charging ahead without considering your surroundings.”
“…Thank you, Benefactor.”
“Mister, let’s eat out tonight!”
“Eat out?”
“I heard Wuhan has tons of restaurants with amazing food! So let’s try one!”
It sounded expensive.
No, wait. The poorly paid Patrol Unit members also ate at restaurants, so it couldn’t be that expensive. Even if it was pricier, it wouldn’t be by much.
I accepted Hye-ryeong’s suggestion and turned around.
“Tonight, we feast.”
“Hehe…”
“…”
We set off towards the streets of Wuhan.
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“The quarterfinals now, huh.”
I crossed my arms, feeling the phantom ache in my side, and waited for the quarterfinalists to arrive at the arena.
Everyone who had reached this stage was a formidable opponent.
If the original story had held true, most of them would be rising stars from the Five Great Clans and the Nine Great Sects…
“Benefactor.”
“Ah, you’re here.”
My interference had changed the composition of the quarterfinalists, so the original story wouldn’t unfold as planned. My own match against the unknown Yang Seoyu had already thrown things off.
It seemed my presence had disrupted the matches from the preliminaries onwards, resulting in some different outcomes.
“Mokgyeong, have you heard anything about the quarterfinalists?”
“…I’ve heard that aside from us, they are all descendants of prestigious righteous sects.”
“As expected…”
I knew Cheong Mae-hyang, Namgung Hwi, and Paeng Jeok-san from their matches, but the rest were unfamiliar.
Since there were only three of them, I assumed the remaining participants would be from the Nine Great Sects.
Of the Five Great Clans, only three rising stars were prominent. Since Tang Myeongjin wasn’t participating in this tournament, I wouldn’t see him unless I went to the Sichuan Tang Clan.
Lost in thought, I finally noticed approaching footsteps. I immediately looked up.
“…The Wudang, Shaolin, and…the Jongnam.”
They were all from the original story.
The shaved head in the Taoist robes was Mujin, the Wudang was Hak-something, and the Jongnam was…what was his name again?
I couldn’t quite recall the name of someone who barely appeared.
“Ahem. All quarterfinalists, gather here!”
At the referee’s commanding voice, we assembled before him.
He surveyed us, cleared his throat, and announced,
“We will now determine the quarterfinal matchups! The method is the same as the Top 16!”
“We’ll draw lots from left to right!”
I wondered who my opponent would be.
Anticipation filled me as I watched Mujin step forward.
Sparring without risking one’s life was quite enjoyable, so I hoped for a strong opponent. A weak opponent wouldn’t offer much of a learning experience.
“Mujin! Group 2!”
“Namgung Hwi! Group 3!”
“Paeng Jeok-san! Group 4!”
“Cheong Mae-hyang! Group 1!”
One by one, they drew their lots. So far, no one had been placed in the same group. Since I was fifth in line, I stepped forward and reached into the box.
This one looks good.
I pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to the referee.
“William! Group 4!”
“Haha! To fight the famed Westerner! I’m looking forward to it!”
“Paeng, be quiet. My ears are ringing.”
“A martial artist shouldn’t react like this to a mere voice! Hahaha!”
…He was truly loud. Even without infusing his voice with internal energy, his voice boomed.
He was described as loud in the original story as well…
“Mokgyeong! Group 3!”
“Hak-un! Group 2!”
“Jin Mok-yeon! Group 1!”
The quarterfinal matchups were decided.
Group 1: Cheong Mae-hyang vs. Jin Mok-yeon.
Group 2: Mujin vs. Hak-un.
Group 3: Namgung Hwi vs. Mokgyeong.
Group 4: Paeng Jeok-san vs. Me.
Only Mokgyeong’s matchup was the same as the original.
“The quarterfinals will be held in three days at the hour of Wei (1-3 PM), so don’t be late! If you’re not here after one hour, you’ll be automatically disqualified!”
So, it was after lunch.
“Then, I’ll see you all in three days…rising stars who will carry the future of the Murim.”
As the referee left the platform, the participants began to disperse. I watched them for a moment, then turned around.
“…”
Mokgyeong quietly followed behind me. Did he hesitate when he said “rising stars”? Did he find it awkward to include me, a Westerner?
…It was understandable. It felt strange to call me a “rising star” when I was a pure Westerner, unlike the Haenam Sword Sect, which was part of the Nine Great Sects despite its non-Central Plains origins.
His awkwardness was understandable.
“Three days, huh.”
Neither short nor long.
But a suitable amount of time to prepare for the quarterfinals.
I watched Namgung Hwi and Paeng Jeok-san boisterously leave, then turned away.
“…”
Mokgyeong quietly followed.
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