Book 15 Chapter 6

The Tianmusheng Edition

-Route (旅路)

"It's a beautiful day for a journey."

Looking up at the brilliantly blue fall sky, the old man smiled wryly.

It was a beautiful day.

"Father, are you not taking the sword…?"

His suspicions were justified, as the old man had never taken his sword off his person when he went out.

A middle-aged man with a clean-shaven face and a crisp white academic gown said with a gentle smile.

"Heh, heh, heh, I already have a sword in my heart, so why bother carrying that heavy, cumbersome thing? This is all I need."

The old man then casually picked it up.

"Hal, Grandpa, it's……!"

The eyes of the young man in his late twenties, standing next to the middle-aged man, widened. He didn't ask, "Grandfather, how long have you been a hundred years old, are you already old, or are you still less than fifty years old?" because the respect he had always had for the elderly bordered on faith. Nevertheless, the young man could not help but consider blasphemy, and so he did. What the old man picked up was a random branch.

The old man took the branch, examined it for a moment, smiled, and nodded in satisfaction. The weight is just right, the length is just right, and the shape is just right, until he realizes there's one thing he hasn't done.

"Hmmm…, it needs a name, so let's call it 'Silver River' from now on."

It was a prestigious name that would be hard to come by again in the life of a twig that would never be used for anything more than kindling. It was a huge favor. I don't know when you can get a name that's so outrageous, so crazy, and so big for the subject of branches.

But that's not what matters now.

"Ha, but… Grandpa, it's not a sword."

Then the old man looked at his grandson with a puzzled gaze. He had the face of an innocent child, unable to hide his curiosity.

"You say all sorts of strange things, it's not a sword… then what is a sword?"

"That, that's……."

When he tried to answer, he found himself speechless. This was a great shock to the young man, who prided himself on being unrivaled in his knowledge of the sword.

"If a material is made of iron, is it a sword?"

The old man asked.

"No."

The young man replied. A sword is a sword, whether it is made of gold or silver, though there may be a difference in performance.

"Then if it is three furlongs long and two furlongs wide, it is a sword?"

The old man asked again, and this time the young man shook his head.

"No. Whether it's three cubits long or four cubits long, or one cubit wide or three cubits wide, that has nothing to do with the definition of a sword."

Otherwise, we wouldn't have the concept of small, medium, and large swords.

"So it doesn't matter if the handle is leather, fish skin, iron, or wood, right?"

"Of course, Grandpa!"

The old man nodded in satisfaction and spoke again.

"You say that the mere fact that it is made of iron, three cubits long and one cubit wide, with a handle of bark, does not make it a sword. He replied that neither material nor form are the most important elements of a sword. What, then, can be called a sword? What, then, would you call a sword?"

The young man did not dare to answer.

"Teach me."

The old man nodded quietly.

"Material or form is an important component of a thing, but it is only a surface and not its essence. If we cannot define a thing by its material or form, don't you think we should pay more attention to its purpose and function?"

"When you say purpose and function, you mean……."

"Definitions of things are the promise of society. And much of that definition centers on the symbolism of its purpose and function. So what is the symbolism of a sword?"

The young man straightened his posture and waited quietly for instruction. The old man spoke again.

"A sword is an object that cuts and stabs. To the uninitiated, a sword is simply a tool that cuts and stabs, capable of killing or subduing a person, although some use it as a tool of various magical significance. More strictly speaking, anything that performs the function of cutting or stabbing an object is a sword. Slashing, cutting, and thrusting is what a sword does, what a sword is."

The young man listened with reverence.

'"Then what does it matter what its form or material is, even if it is an ordinary twig to others, if Nobu can cut and thrust with it, it is already a great sword, isn't it?" he said.'

The old man flicked the branch once, lightly, and an ornate, antique stone lantern with exquisite workmanship fell three zhangs away and split cleanly in half, the cut surface eerily smooth as a mirror.

"Suck!"

The eyes of the young man and the middle-aged man widened. The young man was stunned by the novelty of it all, but the old man was stunned in a different way. The son of an old man and the father of a young man, he was currently stunned to the point of speechlessness, but no one else noticed his anomaly.

The old man turned his attention back to his grandson and looked at him with compassionate eyes.

"How is it, then, that you still do not call it a sword?"

"No, as long as it's in your grandfather's hand, as long as you've named it a sword, it's already a great divine sword."

The young man replied, with respect and reverence in his voice. "In the hands of this old man, whatever it is, whether it is a scrap of paper, a tattered piece of cloth, a blade of grass, or a reed, it is a sharp, too-sharp sword.

"Be thankful!"

The young man, sobered by the middle-aged man's words, bowed deeply and took a bow of respect.

"Deep teachings, thank you, Grandpa!"

"That's it. I'll take the no-brainer……. example is too much and makes the recipient uncomfortable."

The old man smiled and bowed. The middle-aged man, who had been watching this family reunion from the sidelines, spoke softly to the old man.

"I…, but my father!"

The old man's gaze turned to his son.

"What? Why?"

"I'm sorry if I have to tell you this, but……."

The middle-aged man's voice trailed off as if he was finding it very difficult to bring up the subject. It was as if he wanted me to know how much he had struggled to get the words out. No one can resist such an offer.

"What's the matter, what's the difficulty in a conversation between a father and a child? Speak!"

The old man, who hadn't noticed any abnormalities, said with a gentle smile.

"Then let me take your word for it, and I will tell you without reservation."

There was a certain resolve in the words, and the old man nodded, "Well, yes!

"The swordsmanship you demonstrated a moment ago was indeed extraordinary, and this son could not help but admire it as always."

The introduction was suspiciously long.

Out of filial piety, he could have left the matter unmentioned here, imitating the example of the exotic maiden, Miss Simmo, who threw herself into the water for the three hundred offerings of rice to open her blind father's eyes, but he did not; he had a heavy responsibility as the head of the Gasols. So he had to tell the truth with difficulty and bitterness.

"But so far, so good… the Tang lanterns, carved from that Yunnan marble that my father cut so cleanly……."

A look of disbelief crossed the old man's face. For some reason, he thought the cut was too smooth.

"Rain, is it expensive?"

The old man shakily replied. The cheerful face that had been teaching his grandson a moment ago was nowhere to be seen.

The son nodded vigorously, driven by a conviction that the truth should not be hidden and a mission to ensure that this tragedy never happens again.

"Moo-chuck!"

Was this a wake-up call? As if hoping to add to the pressure, I answered again, more forcefully.

"C'mon… that's, that's… I'm sorry……."

The old man coughed and coughed. If you have something inside you, you can't be dignified, even if you're a superhuman like this.

"Please be careful next time!"

The middle-aged man's attitude was at best impartial and at worst cold-blooded, but the old man didn't dare to complain. It was the old man himself who had taught his son to be fair, impartial, and cold-blooded in all things, without regard to blood ties or delays. How dare he use his position as a father to suppress the ideas that he thought were right, that he believed in and that he followed, when his son was practicing them? It was one of the things that he most abhorred, and it was a reversal of his own justice. He is so ashamed of himself that he cannot even look up to the sky.

"Well, I should get going. I have to catch up with my friends. It's been a while since we've all been out, and I don't want to make them wait too long, so let's go!"

The old man scrambled to get out of his uncomfortable seat as quickly as possible.

"Farewell, father."

"Goodbye, Grandpa."

Behind him, his son and grandson waved goodbye, but the old man didn't look back, just gave a quick wave.

"You look like you're having fun."

The middle-aged man nodded in agreement with his son's sentiment.

"It's been a long time since we've seen each other, I'm sure you're excited!"

"It's a meeting of the big three."

"Yes, if the three of you met, you could overthrow the Kang Ho Murim tomorrow."

"Yes!"

The middle-aged man smirked as the young man nodded, looking so serious.

"Well, it's just a reunion. He's probably not going to bother conquering the world."

"Definitely!"

Knowing that his father was telling the truth, the son was immediately convinced.

As he read through the report, Qi Sahan's face furrowed in disbelief. What was written in it was enough to make him unhappy.

"Is this true?"

Of course it was true. I've never had a subordinate stupid enough to report something this important falsely, but it was important enough to ask again.

"Yes, military, I think I've got your tail between my legs."

Samahon, the man who had brought the 'top secret' report, spoke with difficulty.

"The evidence would have turned to ash with Hwa-Pyeong, leaving no trace that could have alerted us to its presence and traced it back to us."

I'm sure we've had reports before of people seeing the roots of poles reduced to ash.

"Did that 'accident' reach their ears?"

It's not unlikely that even soldiers from neighboring armies were mobilized to quell it.

'That's what I told you to be careful about carrying, you idiots!'

Worst case scenario, I'd have to disconnect, but this wasn't the time to sit back and curse at them.

"Where is it?"

Chisahan asked again.

"I'm afraid I'm going to be blind."

"Chet, the dogs at the White House……. These dogs are pretty good scenters, how far do you think they got?"

"I don't think they've discovered our existence yet, but that may only be a matter of time."

Qi Shi Han bowed his head slightly, deep in thought. Samahon waited a moment before speaking again.

"What would you like to do?"

"How many?"

This is the number of dogs.

"There are eighteen of them."

"And the boss?"

"It's a nine-chuck iron eye."

"That grave robber guy……. But was he that good?"

The grave robber was a favorite derogatory term used by those who had a grudge against him, and while his existence was known through intelligence, his reputation was based more on his unusual abilities than on his work.

"The cow might catch a mouse on the back foot."

Coincidence was one of the abilities.

"You would have saved your life if you'd stayed in your grave!"

Qi Sahan said through gritted teeth. The conclusion had already been drawn.

"There is only one choice. Exterminate them all. Authorize the use of the Annihilation Battalion. I give you two battalions!"

The man, who had been maintaining his composure, looked up in surprise at the word 'destruction'.

"You mean the Destroyers, two battalions of them!"

It's no wonder the man was surprised; it was like taking a chicken with a sword. It was different, but too different. As its name implies, the Gyeongsangseongdae was not an organization that was raised to deal with such a ruffian. Half a battalion was enough for this incident.

But Chisahan had no intention of reversing his decision.

"Yes! Send the killer machines. We'll see how well they've been trained."

"But… to use them without His permission is to use……."

That's what makes this guy's warts look so bad. In fact, it was the same for Qi Shihan. This one had the potential to overwhelm his dogma. But he was in a hurry.

"We don't have time to wait for his approval. It takes at least five times the power to completely annihilate a group of people, let alone win. Overwhelming force, once and for all! If we get this right, we won't need them. Let's go all out and make it perfect."

So this was a big deal.

"Got it!"

In a firm voice, Samahon replied.

"Do it in private. If this mistake should ever become known to Confucius,……."

A chill runs down his spine just thinking about it. Qi Sahan's body trembled with fear. Trying to shake off his anxiety, he finished the rest of his sentence in a low, hushed voice.

"You're probably not going to make it out alive, let alone me."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Qi Sahan shot him an intense glare and exclaimed vigorously.

"The existence of the Dragon Kite must not yet be known to anyone. Exterminate all who know of it. That will be your role, your mission. Go! Sword of the Thousand Fears, Sword of the Thousand Charms, Forty-seven!"

"I'll take the order!"

At the same time, his presence vanished into thin air in the room.

"Boom, boom, boom!"

My throat felt like it was going to split, my lungs felt like they were going to burst, and my legs felt like they were going to separate from bone and flesh at any moment……. All I wanted to do was stay in place, but I couldn't stop.

"Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm!"

I was surprised he hadn't passed out yet. Still, Ahn Myung-hoo ran and ran and ran, drawing on all of Danjeon's inner powers.

"Chit, I got caught, chit, chit!"

I regretted it, but I couldn't stop.

"…a mistake that's not like me!"

But the ship had already left Naru. It was not too late for regrets, even if he survived.

"Boss, this chore is a prideful one, heh heh heh!"

The ant running beside him asked under his breath. His butt was smoking, and so was his nose. The problem was that his nose was overperforming in the first place.

I was determined to be as stealthy as possible, but……. His opponent was shrewder than he could have imagined.

"Damn, I haven't even figured out the plot yet!"

It would be less frustrating if I knew the full story.

"Captain, heck, heck, what can I do, heck, heck, they're still coming, heck, heck!"

The dog cried out urgently, his breathing already labored, as if he were already out of breath. It was already the third day. The chase had been going on for three days and three nights. They had been relentless in their pursuit, completely unconcerned with the progress of the moon. The hounds would not be as persistent as they were.

"When I get back (if I ever get back), I'll have to write a new report on the escape threshold stamina of cornered humans."

I did my own human trials for three days and three nights, so I had plenty of data. Yes, if I could go back, I would…….

"Damn, don't they ever sleep?"

Before they could reach the wellspring of the plot, they hit a snag.

The black-clad men who suddenly appeared out of the darkness and began attacking them……. They were truly demonic and terrifying. Of the twenty men, only seven remained. They were now scattered in all directions, unable to tell if they were alive or dead.

"You can give up now, I can't run anymore!"

Ahn Myung-hu gritted his teeth and exclaimed, "But even as I say this, my feet are still not stopping. He knew full well that to stop running here would mean death.

From all sides, the web of life was encircling his entire body. Is this what it must be like to be a deer, tossed and turned by hunters?

My breath hitched under my chin. My body was already drenched in sweat.

"Heh, heh, heh, boss, I can't run anymore, heh, heh, heh!"

Gasping for breath, the dog whined. His breath was coming in ragged gasps. His complexion was pale as a corpse's, so pale that it wouldn't be surprising if he passed out immediately, and his eyes were dilated. His pace was noticeably slower, and it felt like he was about to be overtaken by a slug.

"You fool! If you stop now, you'll die! Run, even if you're out of breath, even if your heart explodes! If you're going to die anyway, and if you're going to die if you stop, run just a little bit more!"

Ahn Myung-hoo cried out in a voice of evil.

"Hee hee hee hee, dude, you're making me out of breath from yelling at you!"

Ahn Myung-hoo grumbled. His breathing was also visibly deteriorating. His body was at its limit.

'I guess that's the only way to do it…….'

I know it's risky, and I know the side effects are severe, but it's still better than running, collapsing in a heap of gunk, and being caught and mauled by my pursuers.

Finally making up his mind, Ahn Myung-hoo called out to two of his men who were running some distance from Gakko.

"It's no good. Everyone takes a 'ki explosive round'!"

"Qi, do you mean the detonator?"

"Yes! My body is at its limit. I have no more energy left to run, no more stamina, no more strength, nothing but that!"

It's not that I don't understand the grim look on his face, even though it's a means to an end.

'It's not too much to ask, I'm the first to admit that I'm a sucker for this…….'

A detonator is a potion that literally triggers the latent energy left in the body's energy-depleted flesh, an elixir that can grant a user short-term superhuman strength, even when their well of power has run dry. However, its power was a dangerous one, as it cut and squeezed the life out of a person, forcing them into instantaneous strength, with devastating side effects and, in the worst case scenario, death. This double-edged sword was why it was one of the few spells not to be used unless it was a last resort.

"My mom was so careful to tell me that I shouldn't eat bad food……."

Gakko grumbled and pulled a sealed wooden case of detonators from his arms. It was waterproof and sealed, so it could be used in the rain or underwater. An Minghu and the other two took it out without pause and broke the tight seal. The dahan was blood-red, as if to warn them of its danger. He's no good, Gakko grumbled to himself.

"Of course!"

Four eyes met simultaneously. They nodded, as if in agreement, and took it. The taste was very bitter and the smell was powerful. "Yuck," someone grumbled, "we put good medicine in our mouths, but we don't have to put bad medicine in our mouths! Later, when he went back-if he could go back at all-Ahn Myung-hoo resolved to write a petition to the higher-ups asking them to improve the taste of the detonators. There seemed to be too little consideration for the field.

"The people who made this have no idea what it tastes like, and that's why the desk biters got it wrong."

He complains about everything, even when it's not necessary. But I don't do it because I like him, and I don't do it because his tastes are particularly fussy when it comes to gastronomy. I do it because I can't live with the despair I'm feeling if I don't have something to complain about. We're all desperate.

The effect was immediate. It wouldn't make sense for an emergency medication to work as slowly as a regular supplement.

The pills were instantly broken down and absorbed into his body. The next moment, a tremendous burst of power exploded from the short circuit.

"Huh!"

Ahn Myung-hu was struck by a wave of power that rushed in like a tidal wave. The empty space swirled as if it were a flood. It was a vortex of qi.

"Whew, that's one hell of an effect!"

Immediately, my breathing stabilized and my sweat stopped. The accumulated fatigue flew away in an instant, and my limbs, which felt like a thousand muscles, overflowed with energy, making me feel light as a feather.

It was more of a poison, but they were grateful for it now, more than any other elixir, so they were willing to forgive the foul taste.

"From now on, we scatter. Do not forget our mission. Our mission is not to defeat the enemy, but to deliver information. One of you must survive and deliver this information to Meng. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

I had a lot of complaint forms to fill out. Most of them would be dismissed and end up in the trash, but that's okay, because it's important to sit at your desk and savor your daily life while scribbling down complaints that are sure to be dismissed and ignored.

"Damn it, I'm going to make sure that I'm going to give you a bunch of papers that will make the eyes of the female officials at the Sangsinso Inn widen!

If the innkeeper ended up hating him for it, he'd be happy to laugh about it.

"Survive at all costs, and I will meet you at the volcano, alive, in whatever shape, form, or indestructible form you choose."

There was a hint of grimness on everyone's faces, but it soon faded and was replaced by laughter. A surge of energy had given them a moment's respite.

"Hey, Gakko, I want to see you alive so I can pay you back!"

The dog laughed at the sudden call of debt.

"Of course, I'll wear it. I want the boss to survive, and I need someone to look out for me. But until then, is this a payday loan? Is that something I have to take?"

"Sure. If you die without leaving a mark on this world, you can go fuck yourself!"

Ahn Myung-hoo said without hesitation.

"So get ready, because I'm going to make sure you survive and get it all back with interest!"

"This is harsh, I must survive to pay back my captain for the trauma!"

An Myung-hoo nodded his sweaty head vigorously as the dog shook his head.

"Of course! You are destined to die to pay for my trauma, don't you dare!"

"Uh, you're being cheeky, Captain, I owe you a few silver coins too!"

The adjutant behind him, Yi Myung, interjected.

"Me, me, me! I have two pieces of silver! I definitely lent it to you three months ago!"

This time, the deputy director, Oh Jung, interrupted. Ahn Myung-hoo's eyes grew shy as he looked at the dog.

"How many people do you owe?"

"Hehe!"

Now more than three times as fast as it had been before, the ant scratched the back of its head and grinned like an idiot. It was a sign that he wasn't counting correctly.

Ahn Myung-hoo was stunned by the scene. Was it because he was standing on the edge of life and death? Every little thing felt so precious. But he couldn't stay in this sentimental mood any longer.

"Then we disperse from here! You all know where to meet, don't you?"

All three men nodded simultaneously.

"Good luck then!"

The four comrades looked at each other and chuckled.

They all knew that the day would never come when all four of them would look at each other and smile like this again!

Still, they laughed.

That was the courtesy of a comrade-in-arms heading into the line of fire.