Book 16 Chapter 18

Jinseonggon's strike on Im Seongjin

-Father and Son-

"A poisoner?"

The masked man asked Im Seongjin, who was blocking his path.

"That's right."

"Your sister?"

"Wouldn't a woman have a hard time under a father with a face like that?"

"That's true!"

The masked man admitted it too easily. Then, a curse could be heard from behind. He ignored it and continued,

"You two should be grateful to me today. The son won't have to grieve for his father's death, and the father won't have to dwell on the loss of his son for long. What a great thing!"

"What do you mean by that?"

Im Seongjin's thick eyebrows, strongly stretched, twitched under his sweat-soaked forehead. The masked man said with a chilling coldness,

"I am going to do what Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei, the three heroes of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, couldn't achieve, even with a grand banquet of sworn brotherhood. Consider it an honor."

Did he really have to say it so long and complicatedly that they would die on the same day, at the same time? It was Im Seongjin's first question before he could even decide whether to consider it an honor or not.

'He said Seonggwang Ilsi…'

It was a pain as if he were being seared with a red-hot iron skewer. It was a miracle that his bones weren't crushed. The pain, as if his wounds were burning, made his spirit scream and his body writhe. Tremendous patience was needed to hide that pain.

The masked man was enraged and resolved to take revenge. And it took no time to put that resolution into action. He raised his sharply honed sword and kicked off the ground with legs trained like a deer's legs roaming the mountains.

He crossed the space like an arrow released from a bowstring and leaped into Im Seongjin's range. He was someone who knew how to fight an opponent with a longer reach than himself.

"It's over!"

His sword seemed as if it would pierce Im Seongjin's heart at any moment. But just as the assassin's poisoned sword was about to pierce his heart, Im Seongjin spun his gon with all his might.

*Screech!*

A powerful centrifugal force, resembling a vortex, repelled the sword that had come within a hair's breadth, protecting his heart.

"Kch!"

The masked man, pushed back about ten feet, let out a short groan and was seen biting his lip. He looked at his right hand and his side. It was the place where the tremendous centrifugal force had just swept through. His clothes on his side were tattered by the rotating vortex, revealing his bare skin. The situation of his palm was even more dire. The special glove, made of dragon hide, rumored to be incredibly tough and durable, was now unrecognizable, and red blood dripped from the torn wounds, as if bitten by a ferocious beast.

"Kch, I seem to have underestimated you!"

He hadn't expected to be in such a predicament.

"I told you beforehand, didn't I? It won't be easy to defeat me!"

"It's too early to be complacent!"

The masked man spat out the words.

"Say that after you've taken this blow!"

Im Seongjin raised his gon and assumed one of the most basic stances, a one-handed thrust.

His father was watching. His father, who had dismissed his gon techniques. His father, who had said that gon was for the weak. He absolutely couldn't show a shameful appearance. He couldn't let this golden opportunity pass him by.

"Seongjin, listen carefully."

"Yes, Master."

"From now on, I will pass on the highest secret technique of our sect to you."

Im Seongjin listened to his master's words with a solemn heart.

"Do you know what the most powerful strike is?"

The master continued to speak.

"The beginning of the gon is one, and its end is one. The gon begins with a thrust and ends with a thrust. The shortest and simplest attack is the most powerful attack. If you can put your entire body and mind into the shortest strike, the one that carries your life, you will be able to unleash the strongest strike."

"Yes, Master! I will keep it in mind."

'Defense is a circle, offense is a point, and the movement of force is a spiral. These are the most basic teachings that should never be forgotten. Engrave this in your mind and do not forget it!'

These were teachings he had never forgotten for a moment.

With the will to hit and kill every single blow, Im Seongjin unleashed a swift thrust, imbued with the power of a spiral.

The simplest yet most powerful attack. Light shot out from his right hand, aimed at the enemy's center.

Jinseong Twelve Gon Final Secret Technique

One Point Guaranteed Hit

With a deadly strike that flared like a bolt of lightning, the masked man flew back, spitting blood from his mouth. It seemed as if nothing could penetrate this strike.

"Damn, I missed. He's as quick as a cockroach."

He disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. The dense trees and fallen leaves served as good cover for him.

Thinking of the assassin, who was wrapped in black from head to toe, Im Seongjin felt a growing kinship with cockroaches the more he thought about it. Perhaps the black-masked man felt infinite affection and intimacy every time he saw a black cockroach. Im Seongjin concluded this.

"Tsk tsk, who did you get your slowness from?"

Im Seongjin glared at his father, who had given him such a thick and stout body, with narrowed eyes.

"Wh-what's with that look? Are you going to strike me down?"

"Are you asking if I know that now? Even with those ridiculously thick forearms and log-like thighs you carry around every day? It's not like I became slow because I wanted to!"

Physical speed often relied on innate talent to some extent. There were limits to what could be achieved through training alone. There was talk of a single, unique method. However, there was no way to confirm whether it was true or just a baseless rumor spread by a gossiping monk.

It was transformation. The ultimate state of changing one's body anew and reorganizing physical abilities. To reach that distant state, one had to train both mind and body. In the current martial world, the number of people who had surpassed that state was only a handful, even by estimation.

"By the way, how is your condition?"

"Perfectly fine! I've got a few scratches, but they're nothing more than scrapes. Hahahaha!"

Im Deokseong laughed heartily, showing the wounds on his limbs. As a result, his beard, which protruded like iron needles, swayed like a wind-battered pine tree. His body was so strong that one could mistake it for being made of steel.

"Who asked you, Father?"

His son retorted gruffly.

"Then?"

"Why should I worry about someone as sturdy as to be unkillable? I don't want to waste my time. Those ridiculously large muscles aren't just for decoration, are they? You didn't learn Steel Body Divine Art just to be a street vendor, did you? I'm not worried about you, Father, who is clad in ridiculously tough steel muscles, but about the person he was carrying."

It was no ordinary matter that Im Deokseong, known for his pride and otherwise useless without it, had carried someone he had never seen before, a seemingly young boy, and fled – something he considered more shameful than death. What was the identity of that person? What was the whole story? Curiosity was inevitable. However, such a reaction from his son naturally displeased his father.

"You… you brat! How dare you speak to your father who raised you like that?!"

He growled, glaring with his eyes. However, Im Seongjin turned his head away and pretended not to hear.

"It was also the father who raised me who chased me out. And for a very trivial reason."

His retort carried a sting. Even the usually dull Im Deokseong could clearly feel it. Suddenly, Im Deokseong fell silent. A low sigh escaped his lips.

"To receive help from a son who ran away, I must be getting old!"

"Do you admit it now?"

"Not yet! But you, aren't you coming back?"

Im Seongjin flinched at those words.

"There are still mountains of things I need to experience. The world is indeed wide."

"Is that so…"

Im Deokseong replied in a slightly melancholic voice. But…

"Work hard!"

This was an acknowledgement of his son's actions, his life, his path. For the first time, he was acknowledged by his father, who had always tried to deny his son's path. As an independent individual, he had finally become self-reliant.

"Th-thank you, Father!"

Im Seongjin said, scratching the tip of his nose, as if extremely embarrassed.

"But who is that person, really?"

"Ah, that person…"

Im Deokseong had no choice but to briefly explain the whole story. And Im Seongjin was so astonished that he almost fainted at the part where his father had met and come here with Cheon Museong, the idol he greatly admired. Why hadn't Cheon Museong arrested his father and thrown him in prison? That part was quite incomprehensible.

After hearing the story, Im Seongjin looked up at the trees behind him and said,

"Don't you think you've watched enough? I think the good scenes are all over. The story is finished too."

"Ah, I've been found out?"

A voice came from above the tree, and a figure dropped down.

"Isn't a father-son fight the battle of the ages that has continued since the beginning of the world and human history? That part is also quite interesting. You don't have to find excitement only in physical fights. I have broad and diverse tastes enough to find interest in trivial matters."

"You… you bastard!"

Im Deokseong exclaimed, pointing his finger. He had seen this person before.

"Ooh, Mr. Bandit! Long time no see. Are you here to do business on this mountain?"

Bilyeon greeted him cheerfully.

"I've put my livelihood on hold for a while. I'm on vacation."

Im Deokseong replied.

"Vacation?"

Bilyeon tilted his head as if he had heard something strange. Vacation from banditry… It was truly a sight to behold, a blatant displeasure.

"I've served for twenty years, so I need to rest a bit. It's my first vacation in a long time."

Im Deokseong said proudly, puffing out his chest. Im Seongjin thought his father was truly shameless.

"Are you here alone?"

Only then did he remember someone he had completely forgotten. Someone he had left behind!

"Ah, Whale!"

"Mr. Whale is here too?"

Whale was another nickname for Mo Gyeong.

"Oh dear! I have to go in a hurry. You guys take care of this person. It might be safer here since who knows what might happen over there. That guy is still alive too… Please take care of him."

"Uh, Father!"

And then, Im Deokseong ran towards Samseonggak, ignoring his son's desperate cries.

At that moment, Mo Gyeong was in a pool of blood at Samseonggak, struggling and waiting for rescue.

"Ugh… Brother… Hurry up…"

His pale body, drained of color, was preparing to let go of its spirit. Grim reapers on the other side of the door were beckoning him.

"Well, then, what about this burden?"

There was little choice.

"I guess I'll have to carry it."

Im Seongjin said with a sigh. He was a nuisance, not a father. He was a fool for having felt good about him for a moment, thinking that there could be affection between father and son.

"What's that?"

When they arrived at their dwelling, a cave, Jang Hong asked.

"Oh, this? It's temporary storage."

"It looks like a person to me?"

"It is a person."

"Is he dead?"

He looked pathetic, hanging limply.

"No, he's still alive."

"I'm already concerned about the mysterious ambush attacker in the silver mask, so what are you going to do with such a burden?"

"Well… the Sword Master asked for it, so I have no choice."

"The Sword Master!!!"

"Uh, that's what he said."

He decided not to mention that it was a unilateral request from the leader of the bandits, who had received a request from the Sword Master. In any case, it wasn't a lie to say it was at the Sword Master's request. This way was more convenient. It would be better for the patient too. His treatment would be drastically different based solely on his reputation.