Book 1 Chapter 17

The Tang San Incident

Now, a wind that was more than refreshing, sometimes even chilling and cold, blew around the mountain.

The blazing red sun had finally lost its intensity, and it was the late stage of autumn, illuminating the world with coolness.

A group of people was descending the mountain towards the village.

Some wore long swords or sabers at their waists, while others held spears in their hands. They were all clad in black robes of the same color and style, and on their chests, near the right side, were embroidered lotus patterns of the same design, though varying in number. This suggested they were warriors belonging to the same martial arts sect.

The man walking with a hearty stride at the front, Kang Jang-han, was in a very good mood. He had just completed the mission of delivering a gift to the Emei Sect. Considering the meaning and importance of the gift, the fact that the King had entrusted him with this task meant he was highly valued.

Operating a security company in this land of Sichuan, especially right next to Mount Emei, meant one could not afford to disregard the Emei Sect, a prestigious clan of Qiang Province and the de facto master of Mount Emei's foothills. Moreover, the head of their own Zhongyang Security Company had learned a few skills from the Emei Sect and even claimed to be a lay disciple of Emei. The leader, Jang Woo-yang, known as "Eighteen Swords," was a man and thus could not formally receive martial arts training from the predominantly female Emei Sect, but he had managed to learn quite a number of skills.

His sobriquet, "Eighteen Swords," was given to him by people of the martial world because his techniques, when executed through a sword, showed eighteen variations and eighteen sword phantoms. Jang Woo-yang's eighteen sword stances were also taught to him by Emei.

Therefore, Jang Woo-yang called himself a disciple of Emei and regularly sent gifts to the sect, which Emei acknowledged. For this reason, delivering gifts to the Emei Sect was one of the most important tasks for the Zhongyang Security Company. Some people mistakenly believe that prestigious orthodox sects or large martial arts sects can be sustained without any income or financial activities, but that is absolutely wrong.

As humans, they too must eat, and to eat, they need money. The world is not an easy place. Money is necessary for the activity of living. Even Taoist or Buddhist sects, who live apart from the world and practice meditation or chant scriptures, are no exception. However, unless wealth falls from the sky, money, a thoroughly worldly possession, must be produced somewhere. And for this purpose, there were remunerations in the form of donations and gifts.

Many of the large and small sects existing in the secular world also operated businesses like inns, brothels, entertainment venues, or security companies to obtain funds to maintain themselves. They also received compensation under the guise of protecting the weak within their sphere of influence. And more renowned sects would receive "contributions" from disciples joining their ranks, not as payment but as pure goodwill.

For large sects, it was common for children of the upper class to donate large sums of money to join. However, for sects that claimed to be places for learning truth, practicing martial arts, and ultimately seeking enlightenment, they could not openly expand their power or focus solely on livelihood-sustaining businesses. Reputation was as important to them as maintaining their livelihood.

Yet, even a Taoist temple called a "temple" accepts alms and offerings. Alms and offerings are a form of voluntary donation made to the Buddha to express one's sincerity. And usually, temples and Taoist temples survive on this money. However, if such a temple or Taoist temple also had a renowned martial arts sect with even a single trick, the income from alms and offerings was not insignificant. Enormous sums of money flowed into their sects. And not from just anyone, but from specific individuals or sects.

Another method for acquiring funds was through lay disciples. After all, there is a proverb, "One well-raised disciple is worth more than ten children."

"I am deeply indebted to this sect for allowing me to join and learn even a fraction of its secret martial arts. This grace is as vast as the heavens and unpayable. Therefore, your humble disciple, though insignificant, offers this small gift regularly with the thought of repaying your kindness, hoping to alleviate even a small part of the grace that is higher than the heavens and deeper than the sea. It would be my greatest joy."

The amount of money offered was not insignificant. If a disciple joined a sect to learn martial arts, succeeded in the secular world through their learning, and sought to repay the past kindness, how could their sincerity be refused? Regardless of their true intentions, on the surface, everything was handled similarly. And this was the practice of the martial world. Witnessing this, Bi Ryu-yeon later remarked.

"They teach a few hand gestures and leg movements and then act so generous. Maybe I should raise some disciples too. That could be quite lucrative…"

In any case, the sects that profited this way would, if their disciples in the secular world encountered any hardship, rush to their aid, subtly "adjusting" the cause of their suffering, and sometimes applying more force, thereby freeing their disciples from the clutches of hardship. In short, it was protection by strength. From then on, the disciples, not wanting to waste their previous contributions, would start acting recklessly, relying on their sect.

For these reasons, delivering gifts was a very important and carefully conducted event for those who existed under the shadow of major sects. Kang Jang-han, having successfully completed his important mission, was descending the mountain with a happy heart. His spirits were so high that he felt an overwhelming urge and thus felt the need to show his authority to his subordinates below.

"Great! I'm ecstatic! Everyone, gather at Yachunru! I'm buying drinks for everyone today! Let's drink our fill when we get down. Let's eat and die today!"

Yachunru was a famous inn near Zhongyang Security Company, renowned for its beautiful hostesses. Who in the martial world has ever disliked free drinks? Everyone cheered, throwing their weapons into the air.

"Waaaaah!"

"As expected, Chief Kang is the best!"

"Chief Kang is so generous!"

"Let's die today, Chief Kang!"

"We don't need tomorrow when we're drinking. Let's eat and die today, Chief Kang!"

The subordinate security officers were all excited, each saying something. They all made sure to include "Chief Kang," especially emphasizing the "Chief" part. Kang Jang-han's temper wasn't exactly good. There was an incident some time ago where a subordinate security officer simply called him "Chief Kang!" and was beaten within an inch of his life. Kang Jang-han detested it when people omitted the "Chief" part. After that incident, everyone made sure to call him "Chief Kang," even his colleagues of the same rank would call him "Chief Kang," always including "Chief." This was because, despite Kang Jang-han's bad temper, he was not someone to be trifled with in terms of skill.

Hearing them all emphasize "Chief" made Kang Jang-han extremely happy. Then, his eyes fell on a man in tattered clothes, carrying a water yoke on his shoulders, walking up the mountain. His hair was unkempt and wild, his clothes were ragged, and he carried a yoke with water buckets on both sides. There was only one mountain path, and since there was only one way up and one way down, a group of people and one man were bound to meet.

The man struggling up the mountain carrying a water yoke was Tang Cheol-yeong, the youngest of the three sons of the current sect leader and a direct descendant of the Sichuan Tang family, a prestigious lineage renowned for poisons and hidden weapons that commanded this region. Upon seeing him, Kang Jang-han grumbled unhappily.

"What is that?"

Tang Cheol-yeong was in a very bad mood. He had exerted himself greatly just before, moving back and forth between the water and the land during training in the valley. He could feel that the training was nearing its end, but it was still as difficult and arduous as it had been at the beginning. No matter how skilled one became in training, for some reason, one was always tired. It should be the way of heaven that it becomes less difficult with skill, but because he was overworked as much as he became skilled, it was bound to be difficult.

The current situation was the same. After extreme training, he had used up all his strength and was so exhausted that he could barely move a finger. The master's command to fetch water felt like a grave insult to his person. Naturally, he was in a foul mood, and then he heard someone dismissively call him, "What is that?" - a rude, vulgar remark that completely disregarded him. His mood finally reached its breaking point. He raised his head and saw Kang Jang-han and his group descending the mountain. A flicker of light appeared in Tang Cheol-yeong's eyes.

'A martial artist, from which sect?'

He had almost no contact with the Emei Sect, nor had he ever met other martial artists on this mountain, so he watched them with curious eyes.

'But they don't look that impressive. Nothing special.'

While Tang Cheol-yeong was lost in thought, one of the men from their group approached him. Judging by his attire, he seemed to be a low-ranking warrior.

"Who are you? Get out of the way immediately. The esteemed Chief Kang Jang-han of Zhongyang Security Company is passing through. Get out of his sight quickly with that filthy appearance! Ugh, the smell…"

A security officer tried to push him to the side of the road. Tang Cheol-yeong, subjected to such rude behavior, felt a spark flash in his eyes. When had he ever received such rude treatment? He could say with certainty that since his master, no one had treated him this way before, nor would they again. Ah, before his master, there was no one. Anyway, putting all that aside, for Tang Cheol-yeong's temperament, it was unthinkable to stand by and accept such treatment. A killing intent appeared in his eyes. The security officer who had grabbed Tang Cheol-yeong flinched and froze.

"Wh-what is it? That… gaze… Q-quick… move…"

His legs trembled and his tongue seemed to stiffen, making it difficult to speak properly. He was completely intimidated by Tang Cheol-yeong's gaze.

"You move. Take your hand off."

Tang Cheol-yeong brought his hand to the wrist of the low-ranking Zhongyang Security officer who was holding him. Then, he twisted the officer's arm in an abnormal direction that would be impossible for a normal person.

"Kyahhhh!"

With a scream, the security officer, who had been pushing Tang Cheol-yeong down, rolled to the side of the road, clutching his wrist. Tang Cheol-yeong had always been hot-tempered. When smoke started to rise from his ears, there was no one who could stop him; he was a difficult person to manage.

"You damn brat."

Everyone raged and drew their weapons. If a comrade was being attacked, it would be stranger to just watch idly.

"Who the hell are you?"

Kang Jang-han asked Tang Cheol-yeong with a look of surprise. Even if he was considered low-tier, he was still a warrior. And he was one of the men he had trained. Security officers must always train their bodies. Skill directly relates to one's life. For security officers in security companies, improvement in skill means an extension of personal lifespan, meaning a long life. From the perspective of the security company, an increase in the skill of security officers means a decrease in risk, thus an increase in safety, which means an increase in success rates. An increase in success rates means a decrease in the probability of failure, and fewer failures means less expenditure on compensation, which means less money spent.

Simply put, it means they can earn more money. In four words, it means 'increased profit.' Therefore, security companies never neglected the daily training of their security officers. Kang Jang-han, as a chief and in charge of subordinates, naturally had the duty to train them. The man whose wrist had just been broken was one of the men he had trained. And he had easily broken him. Inferring from this, he knew he was someone capable.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Shut up and come at me, you bastard."

For the past five months, precisely four months and five days, Tang Cheol-yeong's already unpleasant temperament had worsened. This was not an isolated phenomenon; all those who came with him, to varying degrees, were experiencing the same thing. They had all changed their personalities significantly due to their wicked master. Hence, their words were rough and violent. Violent words wounded the heart, and wounds in the heart manifested as anger. An enraged security officer drew his long sword and charged.

"Die, you bastard."

As the charging security officer's sword came at him, Tang Cheol-yeong lightly dodged by stepping back with his right foot and twisting his waist. Then, he fiercely kicked the man, who was stumbling after losing his target, in the stomach.

"Kk…"

The charging security officer fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. Two more charged, but the result was the same; they all fell to the ground, clutching their stomachs. Several more charged fruitlessly, but Tang Cheol-yeong dodged them all with precarious steps, then kicked them in the gut and punched them in the head.

"Not bad. You have something to rely on."

Kang Jang-han, who had been watching all along, drew his saber from his waist and slowly approached. When his subordinates were defeated one by one, it was time for him to step in. The leader always appears later. Kang Jang-han approached and said, facing Tang Cheol-yeong.

"I'll face you."

It was a cliché line.

'Looks like he's the leader. Damn it, I have no strength…'

Due to the extreme exhaustion from training, Tang Cheol-yeong was barely able to move. However, he couldn't show weakness to his opponent. A loss of morale meant defeat.

'Tang Cheol-yeong, show strength!'

He composed himself and took off the water yoke, setting it down on the side of the road.

"Here I come!"

Kang Jang-han attacked with a polite warning. His saber arced, aiming for Tang Cheol-yeong's shoulder.

'Oh, not very fast.'

Kang Jang-han's saber, its movement, was visibly slow, without exaggeration. His saber was not actually that slow, but to Tang Cheol-yeong, it appeared so.

"Swoosh."

"Guh."

Tang Cheol-yeong's right shoulder was lightly cut, and blood flowed out. He had failed to dodge the saber completely. He had thought he could dodge it easily since it didn't seem fast, but he couldn't, which stunned him. Of course, it wasn't that Kang Jang-han's saber technique had some extraordinary 'virtue' that Tang Cheol-yeong couldn't dodge. His eyesight had developed to an extreme degree through intensive training, allowing him to see the opponent's movements, but his current physical condition couldn't keep up with the neural responses. Tang Cheol-yeong could accurately discern the opponent's saber movements and know where and when they were coming. However, due to extreme fatigue, his body failed to properly execute the nerve signals.

He was then cut on his left arm, left thigh, and right leg, not deeply, but with saber wounds. His body continued to fail to keep up with his reactions, and the wounds gradually deepened. Thinking he couldn't just keep taking hits, Tang Cheol-yeong swiftly dodged a saber aimed at his neck by ducking and picked up a small pebble from the ground, quickly throwing it at Kang Jang-han.

"Ah!"

"Huh?"

The "Ah!" was Kang Jang-han's startled cry at Tang Cheol-yeong's unexpected attack, and the "Huh?" was a sigh of shock from Tang Cheol-yeong himself, who was surprised by the slow speed at which the stone flew, so slow that he himself was astonished. The heavy iron weights on his legs were just a hindrance. Coupled with the fact that he was already completely drained of strength, and wearing iron weights exceeding forty pounds, his original power and speed were bound to be nonexistent.

However, it seemed that what was slow for Tang Cheol-yeong was not slow for Kang Jang-han. Or perhaps it was too fast? Kang Jang-han could not block the stone and narrowly avoided it, thus escaping the crisis. The fact that he couldn't block the incoming stone meant that Kang Jang-han's reaction was that slow.

Both were flustered, but Tang Cheol-yeong regained his composure first. He seized the opportunity as Kang Jang-han, distracted by dodging the stone, lost his balance. Tang Cheol-yeong rushed forward with all his remaining strength, entering the saber's effective range, where the opponent's saber could exert its full power. He struck Kang Jang-han squarely in the head with his fist.

"Bang."

"Whoosh."

Kang Jang-han's head turned to the left.

"Bang."

"Whoosh."

This time, his head turned to the right.

"Puo!"

Finally, a fountain of blood spurted from Kang Jang-han's mouth. However, Tang Cheol-yeong did not stop, and continued to strike Kang Jang-han's entire body. All he had left from five months of training was strength.

"Take this, Sam-bok Gu-ta Kwon-beop (Three-day Dog-beating Fist Technique)!"

Tang Cheol-yeong's fists rained down on Kang Jang-han's body. He began to wildly beat Kang Jang-han's body, as if to exact revenge for the wounds he had sustained. As Tang Cheol-yeong's fourth punch flew towards Kang Jang-han's jaw.

"Bang."

A flash of lightning sparked from the back of his neck.

"Kak."

A dying scream escaped Tang Cheol-yeong's lips. One of the security officers, unable to watch from behind, struck Tang Cheol-yeong's head with the spear he was holding. Tang Cheol-yeong, his senses dulled by exhaustion, did not notice this impudent and cowardly act and took the full blow to the back of his head. Tang Cheol-yeong's vision went black.

'Kak… I don't expect poison, but even a hidden weapon would have been nice…'

Tang Cheol-yeong's body slowly collapsed forward. The security officers swarmed around the fallen Tang Cheol-yeong.

"Hey, stomp on him."

"Let's show him what we're made of."

"I'll turn him into a jeon (savory pancake)."

"I prefer pajeon (scallion pancake)."

"You're being silly, eomuljeon (fish cake pancake) is tastier."

And then they surrounded the fallen Tang Cheol-yeong and began to beat him. After about half an hour. Kang Jang-han, who had been furiously beating Tang Cheol-yeong, said.

"Hey, pour water on him."

A security officer brought one of the water buckets from Tang Cheol-yeong's discarded yoke and poured water on him. Seeing Tang Cheol-yeong starting to regain consciousness, Kang Jang-han said.

"Hey, beat him until the dust flies!"

Kang Jang-han incited the men.

"Alright, let's experiment how much dust will fly when we beat a wet body."

The surrounding security officers responded. They all surrounded Tang Cheol-yeong again and began kicking him. There was not a shred of mercy to be seen. Seizing the moment, everyone was taking their revenge for being beaten earlier. Some were jabbing him on the head with the butt of their spears. His limbs were stomped on, his back was jabbed, his stomach was kicked… After about an hour of fiercely beating Tang Cheol-yeong, the security officers, either tired of hitting or to finish him off, stopped their actions.

Kang Jang-han, who had been leading the charge and beating Tang Cheol-yeong the most severely, had stopped them. Tang Cheol-yeong lay on the ground, motionless as if dead, with no intact parts of his body left.

"Should we kill him!"

A security officer with a torn eye asked. After being beaten so badly that he could barely move, the question was "Should we kill him!" Kang Jang-han, with one eye swollen and blood at the corner of his mouth, looked at his subordinate, who had offered an opinion that deeply resonated with his own. How many of his men had been injured by this person? There wasn't a single unharmed person around them. They had all been injured by him in at least one place.

'He was wobbly from the start. Ugh… I'll kill him!'

A killing intent surged. His body, which had been beaten earlier, ached. Because he had fought him one-on-one, he had far fewer uninjured parts than others. The impact of that strangely named martial art, Sam-bok Gyu-ta, or whatever it was, had been severe. If his subordinates hadn't helped, he might have been dead by now.

His hand gripped the saber tighter. His saber-holding hand trembled. Then, Kang Jang-han slowly put the saber back into its scabbard. He couldn't act rashly just because he was angry. He clenched the hand that had just held the saber. Then, he shook his head.

"We can't commit murder on Mount Emei. That's enough. This bastard must have come to his senses after taking this beating. Let's just go."

That's right. This was not just any mountain, but Mount Emei, and atop it resided the Emei Sect, one of the nine great sects. Committing murder in a brawl on Mount Emei would be a complete disregard for the Emei Sect's reputation. The Emei Sect would never overlook a murder by sword on Mount Emei.

If a murder occurred in front of the main gate of the Emei Sect, which revered the Buddha who taught compassion, how could they simply overlook it? They would certainly try to resolve the incident no matter what. The Emei Sect would never let go of those who stained their name. If they killed this person and were discovered, the security company would undoubtedly be shut down, and in severe cases, their lives might be at stake.

So, suppressing his killing intent, he gathered his men and began to descend the mountain. Behind them, Tang Cheol-yeong lay left behind, fallen and unconscious. However, after such a beating, his body, his bones, and his spirit were all broken, and if left as he was, he was destined to become food for wild animals or freeze to death.