Book 2 Chapter 14

Find a way, no matter what.

Without a doubt, Najung-hae instinctively ran his hand over his neck. It was a confirmation.

A careful act of determining if his neck was safe.

It was a way to check if he had been deprived of the right to live out the rest of his life.

Fortunately, his neck was safe. Upon confirming that his neck was still attached to his body, Najung-hae let out a sigh of relief. One of the six brushes in the brush pot was missing. Carefully turning his stiffened neck, he checked behind him and saw a brush stuck deep into the stone wall. And it was the brush tip, not the handle. With a light flick of a finger, he had sent the brush he had been idly playing with flying like the wind, embedding it in the stone wall.

With this one move, Najung-hae completely erased his condescending thoughts about Biryu-yeon. He also blamed himself for his carelessness and rashness. Despite the absolute prohibition against judging opponents by their appearance in the martial arts world, he, who worked in information, had made such a mistake.

Najung-hae was utterly terrified. Fortunately, he was not injured, but a chill swept through his entire body. Cold sweat poured down his back like rain, and his clenched fists were filled with sweat. His legs trembled like aspen leaves. There were still five brushes left in the brush pot. If his aim had been off even slightly, it would have been a direct ticket to the afterlife, but regrettably, mistakes could happen to anyone, and intentional mistakes clearly existed in this world. Biryu-yeon's hand began to fidget with another of the remaining brushes in the pot. A faint smile accompanied by a twinkle in his eyes played on his face.

"Can't get in? So wait another year?"

Biryu-yeon murmured to himself in a low voice, and began to roughly fidget with the brush he had been toying with. The clattering sound echoed loudly, enough to pierce Najung-hae's eardrums and make his heart shrink. It felt as if his lifespan had been shortened by several months beyond its allotted span starting today.

"A year is too long. I can't wait… What should I do?"

"…"

"But still, you tell me to wait a year!"

"…"

"Pow!"

This time, the wind brushed past the top of his left ear. Another brush had left the pot and flown into the stone wall. There were still four brushes left. Enough to end Najung-hae's life. A faint smile still lingered on Biryu-yeon's face. But this time, Biryu-yeon went a step further, pretending not to notice and looking elsewhere while fidgeting with the brush. He seemed ready to launch it without even looking.

Najung-hae's courage had shrunk to nothing in the face of this absurd situation, but he became even more anxious because he still hadn't found a solution. He had to put all his effort into calming his wildly beating heart.

"Do you know what? I hate waiting. I really hate it. It's tiresome. And nothing comes of it."

"…"

"But I waited."

"Pow! Pow!"

Two impact sounds rang out simultaneously. He had sent two brushes flying without even looking, while pretending not to. Najung-hae was seized by a desire to open Biryu-yeon's skull and examine the structure of his brain, for he had so nonchalantly committed such a life-threatening act. However, due to his lack of strength, ability, and talent, he regretfully abandoned his grand plan and could only yearn to execute it in his dreams as a simulation. Biryu-yeon's hand was still twitching. With every playful movement of his fingers, Najung-hae felt as if his lifespan was being shaved off by a year. Biryu-yeon's face still held a bright smile, completely unfitting for the current situation.

"And I hate it when I don't get what I want. So if that happens, I'm a persistent type who challenges possibilities, even if it means going a bit out of my way."

His words, spoken with a smile, were quiet, but his hands were not. This was a very unfortunate turn of events for Najung-hae.

"Pow pow!"

Again, two brushes whizzed past him and stuck into the stone wall. Now there were no brushes left in the pot. Regrettably, it had become an empty pot. All of them had been used in an effort to increase the slightest possibility of success by Biryu-yeon's hand, leaving nothing behind. Only after all the brushes in the pot had disappeared could Najung-hae finally breathe a sigh of relief, as if he had narrowly escaped the threat to his life. However, his relief was somewhat premature.

Even after the brush pot was empty, Biryu-yeon's words continued. He was still being unreasonable. He did have a persistent, almost obsessive, quality.

"You know, I hate people who say they can't do something when they can. If it doesn't work, you have to make it work. That's your job, isn't it? Isn't that right? I came here believing exactly that. This place isn't so pathetic that it would disappoint a guest who trusted it implicitly, is it? I came here because I heard this place has renowned credibility and information?"

Najung-hae inwardly vowed to find the person who told him that, chase them to the ends of the earth, and destroy them. The exaggerated advertisements and propaganda were meant to boost their own and their organization's profits, not to become the cause of their ruin.

However, to keep his vow, he first had to preserve his own life.

"H… but…"

Najung-hae tried to offer a lame excuse. Just then,

"Bang!"

Biryu-yeon's hand, still smiling, struck the brush pot, and a thunderous roar followed.

"Whoosh!"

"Fwoosh!"

Najung-hae was once again thrown into a state of sheer panic. The cold fear of death engulfed his entire body. His mind went blank, leaving only the determination to live, the absolute resolve not to die.

The brush pot shattered, and each fragment transformed into a fearsome weapon, assaulting Najung-hae's entire body. Any one of them hitting a vital point or its vicinity would have been enough to send Najung-hae to the king of hell.

He didn't dare to block or even move. It all happened so quickly that he had no time to react. He could only entrust his fate to heaven. The fragments of the brush pot, transformed into sixteen shards of light, narrowly grazed his entire body. However, the traces left by the passing fragments were clearly and evenly distributed across his body.

His clothes were tattered, the string that tied his hair was tragically cut, and his hair fell loose. Yet, there were no life-threatening injuries. By a stroke of luck, he had narrowly deflected the scythe of death from his neck. Najung-hae let out a great sigh of relief, feeling safe. It felt as if nothing had happened, like a midday dream.

Only the sixteen wounds on his clothes proved what had just occurred. No blood seeped from these marks. Fortunately, the fragments had skillfully grazed only his fabric, passing by without leaving a single scratch on his skin. However, even though he had not sustained any direct physical injury, the psychological impact on Najung-hae was immense. Sweating profusely, as if a whole basinful of cold sweat had poured out, Najung-hae felt as if his lifespan had been reduced by ten years.

Yet, after committing such an act, Biryu-yeon was still smiling innocently, as if asking, "Did I just do something?"

"Oh? It broke. What a shame."

"I-it's okay. I can just buy another one."

Najung-hae forced a smile and opened his mouth. The law is far away, and fists are near. No matter how expensive the sandalwood brush pot was, or how much he cherished it, he couldn't dare to protest. It was a shame, but his life was more precious than it, so he had no choice but to endure.

"No, no. We shouldn't just let such a thing slide. You should go to where you bought the brush pot and complain. It's truly pathetic that they sell such weak, defective products as if they were merchandise. Make sure you get compensation for the damages. Tsk tsk… What is happening to the ethics of commerce in this country…"

Biryu-yeon feigned a look of regret and worried about the future of the martial arts world.

'Detestable fellow!'

Honestly, if anyone deserved compensation, it was Biryu-yeon himself. Considering the material and mental damage he had suffered, and the reduction in his estimated lifespan, it was beyond monetary calculation. If life were said to be priceless, then the amount he should claim was beyond even approximate calculation by his numerical concepts.

In this situation, Najung-hae found Biryu-yeon's series of actions and his lingering smile so detestable. He could not be pleased with someone who reduced others' lifespans at whim. Of course, anyone in this situation would have felt the same way.

Najung-hae's pitiable predicament was enough to elicit sympathy and pity from those around him, but as someone whose own house was on fire, he had to enter Cheonmu Academy by any means necessary. He could no longer bear being tormented by Biryu-yeon. He was not in a position to be a gentleman and consider everyone else's circumstances.

Being tormented by Biryu-yeon was a truly annoying and irritating matter, a shortcut to shortening one's lifespan. As a warrior living in the martial arts world, he had no great attachment to life, but he still wanted to live to a ripe old age like ordinary people. To do so, he had no choice but to find a solution, even if it meant pressuring Najung-hae.

"So, is there absolutely no way to solve it? Even if I die?"

Yeom-do particularly emphasized the latter part. He seemed determined to do so if necessary. Yeom-do had sufficient intent.

Perhaps it is true that when one stands on the precipice of life and death, hidden potential emerges. As if proving the wonders of the human body, Najung-hae's brain scoured all accumulated experience, knowledge, and information, and finally grasped a clue to resolving the situation. He had grabbed a lifeline in the vast sea of information.

"Ah, no. Th-there is. There is, and of course! How could there not be!"

Najung-hae replied in a frantically trembling voice. If he didn't speak quickly, not only would he be smashed to pieces, but they might even take his life, so as soon as the thought came to him, he blurted it out.

"Ho ho, really? What is it?"

His affirmative answer made Biryu-yeon's eyes sparkle with renewed vitality. After observing Biryu-yeon's expression for a moment and gauging his mood, Najung-hae cautiously broached the subject. His question was not about Biryu-yeon, but about Yeom-do.

"Um… but I have one question. Do you, Master Gwak, also intend to enter Cheonmu Academy?"

"Of course!"

Before Biryu-yeon could answer, Yeom-do directly responded to his question. His words were truly brief. But perhaps this was his communication style. The most concise and brief!

"I had a feeling, and it turns out it's true. I can't believe it. However, according to the 'Regulations for Cheonmu Academy Entrants,' the academy strictly limits entrants to those under 25 years of age. This means they don't need anyone who isn't young blood. Furthermore, if one enters at an older age, it's disadvantageous in terms of aptitude and martial arts achievement, which is why there's an age limit. Of course, it's clearly stated in the 'Regulations of the Ascension of the Heavenly Martial Emperor' as well. 'Absolutely no one over 25 years of age!'"

"So?"

A sharp, murderous glint flashed in Yeom-do's eyes. At that gaze, Najung-hae felt his body stiffen once again. His neck instinctively recoiled. Even a mere glance made his entire body's muscles tense, and a chill ran down his spine. He could feel Yeom-do's impatience, clearly revealed in the flashing red eyes.

"Yes, so… therefore, I am sincerely sorry, but at Master Gwak's current age, he definitively falls short of the qualification requirements."

"So?"

"Yes, so Master Gwak cannot enter Cheonmu Academy. As a student."

"So?"

Yeom-do's voice grew colder and colder. He seemed to be getting impatient with Najung-hae's dragging on the conversation. His quick temper made it incredibly vexing and infuriating to listen to Najung-hae's convoluted and roundabout explanations. As if unaware of Yeom-do's state, Najung-hae continued to spew unnecessary words. The story was still far from reaching its conclusion.

"In my humble and insignificant opinion, someone of Master Gwak's caliber and reputation doesn't necessarily need to enter Cheonmu Academy…"

"So?"

"Bang!"

Yeom-do struck the floor with his fist, as large and terrifying as a pot lid. Instantly, the floor caved in, and Najung-hae felt his buttocks jolt from the shockwave. Yeom-do's enraged voice echoed thunderously in the room, which was barely ten square meters. He had finally lost his temper and exploded. A roar burst forth from the depths of Yeom-do's being.

"So what are you saying? I must enter Cheonmu Academy. So answer me one thing. Is there a way to get in, or not? If there is, I'll live, and if not, I won't be safe."

The tension palpable in the air suggested that one more digression would result in Najung-hae's head being permanently separated from his body in a flash of blinding light. From what Najung-hae, who controlled 30% of the information flowing through the Namchang river, could gather, Yeom-do was entirely capable of such an act. This man had a decorated history of such incidents. Considering the precedents of the outlaw heroes who died blocking his path and the several dark path sects that were severed for displeasing him, ending himself would be as simple as drinking a cup of tea after a meal. At that thought, Najung-hae collapsed onto the ground in a prostrating posture, overcome with fear.

"I will find a way. No, I have found one. There is a way."

A solution that came so easily with a single threat, could it truly be trusted? However, even in such a short time, Najung-hae's somewhat extraordinary brain spun furiously, as if demonstrating the potential of human beings.

"Tell me."

"Yes, Master Gwak's age is well past twenty-five. Therefore, he cannot enter Cheonmu Academy through normal means. Rules are rules, after all. However, Master Gwak Yeom-do is one of the five great swordsmen of the martial world, renowned throughout the martial arts. For such a divine being with such martial prowess to enter Cheonmu Academy as a mere student is an oxymoron, an absurdity, something that cannot and should not happen. Master Gwak Yeom-do's martial arts are equal to, or even superior to, those of the martial arts instructors at Cheonmu Academy. The world knows this, so how could such a person enter Cheonmu Academy as a mere student?"

Najung-hae's tongue moved smoothly, as if oiled, and all sorts of eloquent phrases and flattery poured from his mouth. Najung-hae spoke eloquently, as if he had a formidable iron plate on his face, showering him with flattery.

"In other words, he becomes a teacher, not a learner. Then all problems disappear instantly."

"How?"

Yeom-do seemed somewhat interested by Najung-hae's impassioned speech, spitting as he spoke.

"Cheonmu Academy is currently suffering from a severe shortage of personnel, with an absolute lack of martial arts instructors compared to the number of students. Of course, compared to other martial arts sects in the martial world, the numbers are indeed immense in both quality and quantity, but considering the current scale of Cheonmu Academy, the number of martial arts instructors is far from sufficient. For Cheonmu Academy, which originally aimed for elite training, the number of students assigned to each martial arts instructor is too high. For this reason, Cheonmu Academy is desperately longing for top-tier masters, even in their dreams. Even at this very moment, hundreds of envoys dispatched from Cheon-gwan (a term referring to Cheonmu Academy) are wandering through mountains and valleys all over the world, searching for reclusive masters until their feet are worn raw."

After speaking so eloquently and continuously, Najung-hae, without pausing, took a moment to catch his breath, his flattery and rhetoric having roughened his voice, and continued. Fearing that Yeom-do's temper might explode at any moment, Najung-hae, poor thing, didn't even dare to rest. A quick glance at Yeom-do showed him lost in thought, blinking his eyes, his mind occupied with some contemplation. However, Najung-hae couldn't stop explaining. He had a ominous feeling that if he stopped now, Yeom-do's sword might not remain still. So, encouraging his tired tongue and facial muscles, Najung-hae continued his explanation.

"Given this situation, Cheon-gwan will undoubtedly welcome a top-tier master like Master Gwak Yeom-do with open arms. I, Najung-hae, stake my 30 years of experience in the information brokerage business on this promise."

Najung-hae confidently affirmed, beating his chest with his right hand as if his ribs would break. His vigorous chest-beating instilled an inexplicable sense of trust in the viewer. Trust was indeed an information broker's greatest weapon. His reputation as the best information broker in Namchang was not just for show.

"Furthermore, if one wishes to enter Cheon-gwan as a teacher, meaning a martial arts instructor, they can enter at any time of the year, without regard to dates. Moreover, if you become a martial arts instructor at Cheon-gwan, you will enjoy immense benefits compared to students. You will be provided with excellent private accommodation within Cheon-gwan, incomparable to that of students, and you can also have dedicated attendants. In addition, you will receive substantial rewards and fame provided by Cheonmu Academy, and the privilege of entering any sect's territory within the righteous path without interference. What do you think of my proposal?"

"…"

"Heh heh, a very interesting proposal. This will be fun."

Yeom-do remained silent, but Biryu-yeon responded with a giggle. Najung-hae had been passionately explaining to Yeom-do, but the answer came unexpectedly from Biryu-yeon. Najung-hae couldn't help but be puzzled. While his condescending attitude towards Biryu-yeon had greatly diminished, he still mistakenly believed Yeom-do to be the decision-maker. Of course, this was a grave misjudgment. The actual decision-maker here was not Yeom-do, but Biryu-yeon, and Yeom-do was currently observing the situation cautiously, carefully gauging Biryu-yeon's reactions. Najung-hae was completely unaware of this.

However, Najung-hae could not be blamed or criticized for his foolishness. Who in the martial world could have guessed that Yeom-do Gwak Yeong-hui, one of the five great swordsmen of the martial world, had been reduced to the position of looking to a much younger boy for cues? It was no one's fault.

"But how can that be done?"

It seemed Biryu-yeon had made up his mind to get Yeom-do into Cheon-gwan as a martial arts instructor. So he asked Najung-hae about the specific implementation method. Najung-hae's answer was surprisingly simple. There was no need to take an exam, nor to be tested. According to Najung-hae, not even an interview was necessary. His existing reputation alone would allow him to bypass all the tedious procedures and become a martial arts instructor at once.

"Yes, someone like Master Gwak Yeom-do only needs to show up with just himself. Arrive empty-handed and simply say, 'I have come to become a martial arts instructor.' That's all that needs to be done. In fact, you don't need to go through the trouble of going there yourself. I am here. You two can go to your accommodation and rest comfortably. I will handle everything with Cheon-gwan. They will probably send someone running barefoot from Cheon-gwan. Then, Master Gwak, you can listen to their proposed terms, and if you are satisfied with the treatment they offer, you can accept, and all matters will be concluded. In other words, you will become a martial arts instructor at Cheonmu Academy."

In his haste to send the two scoundrels away as quickly as possible, Najung-hae, driven by impatience, made a promise he didn't mean, putting a noose around his own neck and shackles on his own feet. There's an old saying that says 'silence is golden,' but Najung-hae, who couldn't follow it, ended up taking on extra work that he didn't need to.

"Is that so? Then I feel too sorry…"

Biryu-yeon said, smiling innocently, as if he felt no remorse at all. Najung-hae felt a surge of emotion at Biryu-yeon's attitude, but he faced reality, suppressed his anger, and continued the conversation with a hospitable smile and dialogue.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I will gladly undertake this matter for Master Gwak."

"…"

"Well then, take care!"

Najung-hae continued to speak to Yeom-do, but the answer always came from Biryu-yeon. This time, too, Biryu-yeon responded. Biryu-yeon and Yeom-do left, leaving only the simple words "take care." No, they were about to leave. But they didn't. Why didn't they leave?

The two had forgotten something, something very important. So, they stopped their departing footsteps and sat back down. What they had almost forgotten was the primary reason and objective for their visit: whether Biryu-yeon could enter Cheonmu Academy and how. In their focus on Yeom-do's entry, they had almost forgotten their main objective. It was truly an absurd companionship. Biryu-yeon, with his unwelcome posterior once again pressing down on the cushion, looked at Najung-hae and said,

"Ah, that's for him, but what about me? How do I get into Cheonmu Academy?"

"……!"