Book 2 Chapter 23

It's so boring here.

A dense, green forest, so thick it felt like it could split the sun in the sky, was somehow familiar.

A deep sea of trees, so dense that even light struggled to penetrate!

After much deliberation, he was finally able to figure out where he was.

(Huh? Where is this… Ah, Amisan!)

Faint memories began to surface, and I realized why it felt so familiar – it was the back forest of the Amisan Training Center! Two figures, indistinct at first, flickered between the dense green spaces surrounded by the thick forest.

(Huh? Who are they?)

(…….)

(Huh? That's Gungsang! Wait, is that Ling'er too!)

Two figures came into view. Both were faces he knew well. In the verdant forest, as twilight reached its peak, stood a shy, awkward young man who didn't know what to do in front of the girl he liked, and a girl who stood there, showcasing her beautiful form for all to see. The girl might have been intentionally inducing heart attacks in the young man. A young man on the verge of death from a heart attack caused by her seductive posture, and a beautiful girl who relentlessly threatened his life. A smile he couldn't explain bloomed on his lips as he watched the two of them.

The awkward young man, blushing and flustered in front of the girl he cherished, was none other than Namgung Gungsang, the epitome of awkwardness. He had a knack for swordsmanship, but why he became so flustered in front of women was truly pathetic. The girl who so beautifully displayed herself before him was undoubtedly the one causing Gungsang sleepless nights, Jin Ling'er of Amisan.

(What's going on?)

Curiosity surged, and as he tried to get a closer look between them, his vision suddenly blurred.

(Huh?)

The surrounding objects and scenery seemed to waver like a heat haze, then the scene shifted like a mirage, and the familiar faces of children appeared in a crowd. Of course, it was a stretch to call them children now that they were nearing twenty, but in his eyes, they were simply children. Hwasueok from Mount Hua, who couldn't even cook rice properly. Yeonhwa of the Hwangbo family, who refused to eat grilled snake. Moyong Chwi, who was so quiet she seemed mute. Dan Moksu, who was better at turning laundry into rags than washing it. She had to painstakingly sew to turn the rags back into laundry, as the ruined clothes were their only attire.

And then there was Dang Munhye, who seemed anything but demure. She was a tomboy with such a strong personality that no man dared to provoke her. Even Cheolyeong, the third son of the Dang family, more commonly known as Tang San, couldn't stand up to Dang Munhye. And in complete contrast to her, Namgung Sansan, who was exceedingly feminine and loved to cook. Without her, their sustenance during the joint training would have been a serious crisis, forgetting even basic human needs. Thus, she was a very precious presence to them. All familiar faces they missed.

The men?

Now that I think about it, my memories of the men are a bit hazy. It's only natural that the memory capacity allocated to rough and rebellious boys would be relatively lower than for pretty and cute girls. Isn't that obvious?

What use would a man have for a large portion of his brain dedicated to remembering other men? If there was any wasted space, it would be far more beneficial to study academics. Still, by piecing together fragments of memory, thoughts began to surface. Hyeoun, the shaman who loved stargazing, though later he preferred living underwater. Ilkong, who secretly loved eating meat, despite being a "monk." The reason for calling him "monk" is that he was such a complete fraud that he didn't even deserve to be called a monk.

There was no reason to call a fraud who downed alcohol like water and meat like rice "nim." Therefore, Ilkong simply became "monk." However, he was too quiet and taciturn for his actions. Dang Cheolyeong, who had too much pride and couldn't even throw a single amulet properly. Still, over time, he learned to make at least a necklace… Come to think of it, he was the one who always got beaten up.

Cheongun, a disciple of a sword sect on Mount Qingcheng, who couldn't even wield a sword properly. Izaryong from Mount Kunlun, who was skilled at dancing on water. Lao Xue, a beggar with picky tastes who got beaten for it. How could a beggar refuse grilled snake and fried grubs? Still, he was the one he interacted with the most among them, so he remembered him particularly well. He was also the most rebellious.

And then there was Cheonwu from Mount Hua, who bragged about making plum blossoms bloom with an axe. Later, perhaps due to his futile efforts, a single plum blossom seemed to have bloomed, which was commendable. And then there was Geum Yeongho, who only had money and knew only about money. He worried about how effective the martial arts he learned on the side would be. Still, he wasn't disliked as he brought him the most profit. But was there anything this guy could do besides having money? Nothing else came to mind.

Those sweat-smelling boys should consider themselves honored for being remembered to this extent by me. They all gathered and called out in unison,

"Master!"

"Flash!"

Bilyeon's eyes opened. The sudden sunlight blinded him. But it was only for a moment; his eyelids, weighing a thousand pounds, slowly closed again. It seemed he had been called back before completing his mission. However, with surprisingly immense willpower, Bilyeon managed to prevent his eyelids from closing completely. Had his willpower been even slightly less strong, it would have been dangerous. He would have immediately drifted off to dreamland.

With his blurry eyes barely half-open, Bilyeon looked around. His skin tingled, and his earlobes itched, giving him a very unpleasant and uncomfortable feeling. His nerves were extremely frayed. Glancing around with eyes that were still not fully open, he confirmed that several warriors were glaring at him with accusatory eyes, as if to say, "How could you?" However, they seemed to be individuals of a certain caliber, as their eyes gleamed with a palpable radiance. It was likely due to the internal energy they contained.

Only then did Bilyeon finally realize where he was, how he was there, and why. And he understood why he was receiving such sharp glares from everyone around him.

'Ah, this is the admission ceremony of Cheonmu Academy…'

Yes. This was the solemn and sacred admission ceremony for new disciples of Cheonmu Academy. And he was standing here now, enduring his sleepiness to undergo the admission ceremony. With everything understood, and without a hint of remorse, his heavy eyelids began their descent once more. However, the continuous barrage of disgusted and sharp glares from his surroundings, even for someone as thick-skinned as himself, ultimately forced him to abandon his firm resolve. Bilyeon, regretful of his unfulfilled slumber, was utterly despondent. Tragically, his deep sleep had been disturbed.

'Did I make a mistake?'

Bilyeon felt the need to reconsider his actions up to this point. Why had he come to Cheonmu Academy? Wasn't it to escape the monotony and boredom of his daily life and find something fresh, invigorating, and stimulating enough to make his brain tingle?

Of course, his longing for the disciples he had previously taken in also played a significant role. He wouldn't deny that. Nor would he completely admit it, though… Being constantly oppressed and exploited by his master, he occasionally found himself missing the disciples who used to follow (?) him, calling him "Master."

Bilyeon himself was inwardly surprised and amazed by the unexpected fact that he had developed the unfamiliar emotion of "longing" for others. Where were they now, and what were they doing? Were they doing well? He even worried if they were being beaten up every day like they were under him. Still, they were the disciples he had taught, who had respected him as their master—even if it was a deception—at one point. It was only natural to feel a sense of longing. Bilyeon, like ordinary people, was a living, breathing human being. Although many people held skeptical views on this fact, Bilyeon's humanity was undeniable.

Every month, for thirty days, three hundred and sixty hours, one thousand four hundred and forty periods (食頃), two thousand eight hundred and eighty minutes (茶頃), two thousand eight hundred and eighty incense sticks (茶香)! In other words, if he could eat non-stop, he could finish one thousand four hundred bowls of rice; if he could drink tea continuously, he could drink two thousand eight hundred and eighty cups; and if he had the courage and patience to watch persistently, he could witness two thousand eight hundred and eighty incense sticks burning. How vexing and stomach-churning it was to regularly settle his accounts and present them to his master every such period! Every time, Bilyeon felt something. He felt a crisis that if things continued like this, his life would end in constant exploitation, overwork, and permanent abuse from his master. Therefore, as part of a plan to overcome the current crisis and design a new life, he decided, no, resolved, to enter Cheonmu Academy where the children were. He couldn't be tied down and exploited like a slave under his master forever, so he closed his eyes and made a bold decision.

Frankly, the preparations for this ultimate, life-saving plan had been meticulously and painstakingly carried out over a long period. It was a difficult, arduous, and precarious endeavor, but with indomitable willpower, he managed to maintain secrecy while evading the gaze of his monstrous master.

'Now is the time to break free from the old man's clutches and become independent!'

Dodging his master's devilishly sharp eyesight and uncanny intuition, he meticulously manipulated the records of income and expenses and scrupulously siphoned off money through overtime work. Didn't he hoard money and treasures by secretly raiding bandit dens precisely for this moment?

But what was this? From the outset, the situation was unfolding in a direction far different from his expectations. Just like when he first took in and taught disciples, Bilyeon inwardly expected a flood of exciting events.

'But this is really not it. This place is like a fool's den, full of pathetic people who risk their lives for things that don't pay.'

Bilyeon couldn't shake the feeling that he had wasted all his money on this boring and utterly pointless event. From the perspective of his absolute money-worshipping values, pouring money into such a place was no different from throwing money into thin air—an utterly foolish and uneconomical act. The despair of reality, that such an uneconomical, unproductive, and inefficient undertaking could exist, made him feel dizzy, but no one truly understood his despair.

So how could he not feel stifled? He was on the verge of boiling with anger. Only yawns responded adequately to the emotions called boredom and tedium. It was a truly futile and empty, and a terrible waste of time.