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Chapter : 03
📘 My Fortune Is a Status Window (3) —
I was born a fighter.
Even among the beggars of Pimakgol.
Even when I left Pimakgol and mixed with street thugs.
First thing—my size gave me a head start, standing close to six feet tall.
A full head taller than most.
Even in the Banghoe Clan, Angrae constantly tried to keep me in check because he knew he couldn’t beat me in a one-on-one fight.
Before he saw me as a rival, we actually got along well.
But that was only among ordinary folk—not martial artists.
Even in a backwoods dump like Sosan, martial artists had shown up from time to time.
People who ate food without paying, people who harassed women and caused trouble….
Only later did I learn that those bastards were martial artists.
They acted tough because they had something to rely on.
Pick a fight with one out of pride, and you’d be on a one-way trip to the afterlife.
Whether I was six feet tall or nine feet didn’t matter.
Martial artists—be they children or ninety-year-old geezers—could kill a person with a flick of a finger.
All thanks to internal energy.
And that internal energy was now sitting in my danjeon.
“Phew…”
Following the teachings of Jang Samsingong, I finished circulating my qi.
The lotus posture I learned in the market was finally becoming familiar.
My whole body felt like power was bubbling up.
I felt confident—like I could punch Hyeokseong’s head open at any moment.
“Damn… I wanted to test myself today. Why’s he screwing around without using martial arts today of all days?”
I’d hoped to take a hit or two and see how we compared.
I’d taken a few kicks before obtaining Jang Samsingong, but back then it wasn’t a real measure.
All I remembered from that time was pain.
No info on his true strength—only emotion remained.
“I think… I could take him.”
When you first learn something, confidence always comes easy.
Especially when you practice alone with nothing to compare yourself to.
During the day I circulated qi at home.
At night I practiced Jang Samsingong’s body techniques in the hills.
Even logs I couldn’t crack with brute force shattered with internal energy.
With Jang Samsingong, I was a different person.
No—another species altogether.
Only then did I understand why martial artists treated ordinary people like nothing.
I only understood once that warm force settled into my danjeon.
— Murmuring voices.
“Looks like he’s home.”
“Really?”
“Guy’s got nerve.”
“Lost all sense of fear, hasn’t he?”
It was noisy outside.
Those voices sounded familiar.
“Who’s there?”
I opened the door and found a crowd of Sosan villagers.
Most were holding farm tools or kitchen knives.
I’d underestimated things.
Far too much.
The villagers’ anger had boiled over, and word was that officials would come investigate.
And surely, rumors had spread that the Banghoe Clan had abandoned me.
I had no shield left.
Were people afraid of me all this time?
No—they feared the Banghoe Clan, and behind them, the Hao Sect supporting Hyeokseong.
But now that the Banghoe Clan declared they were done with me…
“Dancheon, you bastard! Kill a person and live like nothing happened!”
Wang Seobang from the dumpling shop.
He brought a cleaver?
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“Not intentional? Her skull broke!”
The teahouse lady’s husband stepped forward.
Others parted for him.
“She bit my arm… I pushed her away and that happened.”
“My Naedang would never do such a thing! Don’t insult her!”
Insult?
She bit me so hard I yelped, for god’s sake…
If I still had a mark, I’d show them—but thanks to Jang Samsingong, it healed completely.
“Which arm?”
Wang Seobang glared at me.
“Right arm.”
“No scars.”
“It healed.”
“Heh! In that short time? Bite marks don’t heal that fast.”
“I heal fast.”
“Everyone! He’s mocking us! What a monster! Even the Banghoe Clan kicked him out!”
Mocking them? And what did that have to do with the Clan?
Wang Seobang was twisting everything however he pleased.
“Not enough that he killed someone—he defiles the dead!”
“Dog bastard!”
“Execute him!”
“No need for the authorities—let’s kill him here and bury him on the hill!”
“That’s right!”
Oh?
Group murder and corpse disposal?
Quite the crime syndicate.
You lot should run the Banghoe Clan instead.
“Kill him!”
“Kill!”
“Some… someone… hurry…”
“T-take… that guy…”
Their mouths were loud—but none of them moved.
Anger was one thing.
Acting on it was another.
Without experience, murder didn’t come easily.
“Move.”
I shoved Wang Seobang aside as he blocked the path with his cleaver.
“Ugh!”
He stumbled backward, crashing into the villagers behind him, who toppled like dominos.
They couldn’t handle me—not when my speed and strength were boosted by Jang Samsingong.
“I’ll leave Sosan. Be satisfied with that.”
I tossed out a warning to those still glaring at me and walked down the alley.
I felt bad about the teahouse lady, but it was an accident.
Why bite someone’s arm so hard anyway? Sigh.
I’ll apologize properly when I see her in the afterlife.
“Graaah! Where do you think you’re going, you bastard!”
Her husband charged with a knife.
He was different—his grudge was real.
His anger gave him courage the others lacked.
— Vwoom!
His knife cut air.
I dodged lightly.
Sorry was sorry—but taking the hit was another matter.
It was accidental manslaughter. A pure accident.
But I couldn’t keep fighting here.
And I couldn’t knock him out cold either…
“He’s running!”
Then I’d better run.
I sprinted down the alley.
Circulated qi to fuel my body.
“After him! Catch him!”
“Catch that bastard!”
Rabble always got bold when an enemy turned his back.
Those who hesitated earlier now yelled and chased with renewed vigor.
“So damn fast!”
“Haah… Dancheon, that damn bastard… did nothing but run, huh…”
None could catch me.
I’d been fast before martial arts.
With Jang Samsingong added, I might as well have sprouted wings.
Qi surged through my taut thigh muscles—my body shot forward like a spring.
In moments, I cleared the village and entered the mountain.
Nobody was behind me.
‘Maybe I don’t even need special footwork?’
Internal energy alone was overwhelming.
Catching my breath, I looked down at Sosan.
Small to begin with—and smaller from high up.
I’d probably never return.
I hadn’t many fond memories here—but it was still home, and I’d grown attached.
‘A man shouldn’t be trapped forever in some rural hole.’
I turned my head.
Past the setting sun stretched endless plains and a distant river.
The Jianghu.
A man should swim in big waters.
A martial artist belongs on the open roads.
I’d finally grabbed the rope leading upward.
No way I’d let myself be dragged to the authorities and executed.
In the Jianghu, strength was the law, so they said.
A true master could kill someone by accident and no one would dare complain.
I didn’t fully understand yet—but the status window my teacher gave me was clearly extraordinary.
I could become stronger—much stronger.
‘Just survive this hurdle.’
If I succeeded this mission…
I’d gain two more inner cores.
Double the internal energy? The thought sent chills down my spine.
‘Tomorrow night… the mountain ridge road toward Hangzhou…’
I had traced Hyeokseong’s expected route dozens of times in my mind.
I would wait where he was most likely to camp.
Only three days left.
If I failed, I’d rather die at Hyeokseong’s hands.
After tasting martial arts… I couldn’t live without them now.
Rather die than lose them.
The mountain trail to Hangzhou.
Not an official road—so travelers dwindled at night.
Once the sun fell, only moonlight remained.
From a shallow pit that hid my lower body, I spotted Hyeokseong.
He’s here.
I’d worried that Angrae might spill something and delay him.
But Angrae wasn’t that kind of fool.
Divide and conquer—that was Angrae’s specialty.
Hyeokseong began preparing grass bedding.
Stacking tall grass and pushing himself underneath to sleep.
To gather grass, he climbed farther up the ridge—closer to where I hid.
He was now about two jang away.
The length of four men lying head to toe.
Still too far to ambush.
He needed to come closer.
— Rustle rustle.
He frowned at some grass, tossed it aside, and climbed higher.
‘Closer… just a bit more.’
In a street fight, nothing beat a surprise attack.
Even if we both had martial arts, we weren’t masters.
Still street thugs.
Whoever struck first would gain an overwhelming advantage.
Now three cheok.
About half my height.
Close enough—his rough breathing reached my ears.
‘Just… a bit… more.’
Still a step too far to strike.
One more step—
— Crunch.
‘…?’
A hard snapping sound.
Hyeokseong froze and looked down.
His foot was on a massive shrub leaf.
Perfect roofing material for grass bedding.
‘He won’t come any higher.’
He’d use that as his cover.
He wouldn’t climb further.
Decision made.
Thought fast—moved faster.
I burst from the dirt, charged, and slammed my fist full-force into his gut as he bent to pick the leaf.
— WHUD!!
Target: his danjeon.
If I destroyed it in one hit, I’d nullify his martial arts.
Even crippling it was enough to give me the edge.
I packed every ounce of internal energy into that upward blow.
“Guhhhh!”
Just like the thousands of times I’d drilled in the hills.
My fist struck his danjeon clean.
Hyeokseong folded forward.
Couldn’t lose the moment. Press the attack.
I leapt and slammed my heel down on his cheekbone.
— CRACK!
Something broke cleanly.
I felt it.
“Aaargh!!”
Then I kicked his head over and over.
Technique forgotten—just raw frenzy. In the dark, I even missed half my swings.
— Wham! Thud! Crack! Whoosh! CRACK!
“Gyaaaah! Aaaagh!”
— Grab.
He clutched my leg.
I lost balance and fell on top of him.
“Wh… who… are… y…”
His face was mangled, blood everywhere.
He strained to move his eyes, trying to recognize me.
“Da… Dan…cheon!”
Persistent bastard—still recognized me?
“I… I was… wrong… I’ll… teach you… martial arts…”
Damn dog.
One second of breathing room, and he starts begging.
But what to do?
I didn’t need his martial arts.
I rolled and wrapped his neck in my arm.
It was a favorite move from dogfights in Pimakgol—
Pin the opponent with superior weight while choking off his windpipe with thick arms.
“Kh… kh… Da… Dan…cheon…”
He slapped my arm and called my name, panicked.
In street fights, that tap meant let go.
If not?
They died.
But tonight, I was killing him.
So I couldn’t let go.
“Ju… hhh… uuuh…”
His struggles weakened.
His faint pulse stopped.
‘So fast?’
It was my first time choking someone to death—I was surprised too.
A terrifying technique…
[You have completed your first mission.]
When Hyeokseong died…
The status window appeared on its own.
Go on.
Hyeokseong.
Wait for me in hell.
After I roam the Jianghu…
I’ll come join you.
