Chapter 2

Yeon Mujin returned to a familiar scene.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw the red and blue banner curtains decorating the entrance.

Brilliant lanterns hung high overhead, and outside the window were lush flowering trees and a picturesque pond.

This place, as if the world’s gold had been poured over it, was the heart of the Bukgung Family.

There was no one in the room besides Yeon Mujin.

They were probably affording him his last bit of rest. It felt familiar.

On the seventh time returning to the past, Yeon Mujin’s first impression was,

“This is a fucking mess.”

He should have gotten used to it by now, but the nauseating feeling of moving back through time never sat right.

“Ugh, blech.”

Yeon Mujin gagged, sank into his seat, and sat cross-legged.

Nausea aside, there were things to be done.

According to his memory, there wasn’t much time left.

He calmly began one full qi circulation to check his body’s condition.

His joints were stiff, and his stamina was absurdly depleted.

The makeshift channels he’d opened were a mess, and his meridians were like a tangled skein.

So, summarizing,

“The body is still garbage.”

But even a trashy body had one advantage.

His internal qi.

One of the Reversion Pill powers that Bukgung Cheon hadn’t mentioned was that, even after repeated returns, the internal qi lodged in the dantian doesn’t completely vanish.

Strictly speaking, a significant portion of the qi is lost during reversion, about half a year’s worth or so. That amount seems to be consumed during the return.

That’s why Yeon Mujin couldn’t neglect training after returning. If he didn’t replenish that half a year of qi, he’d really be dead meat.

In any case, there remained internal qi in his dantian from his previous life, though much of it had been used for the regressions.

Body, channels, meridians.

Everything else was a wreck, but his dantian held a fair amount of qi. Bukgung Cheon probably didn’t know that.

Yeon Mujin muttered the formula of Travelling Swallow Qi Cultivation and began circulating his qi.

If the internal qi remained despite the body’s regression, circulating qi posed no problem.

Thud, thud, crackle!

As the qi flowed, veins bulged in an instant and sweat oozed out.

What bled out were impurities unnecessary to the body; what opened were meridians; what connected through was internal qi.

The body of the past carried surplus internal force, and the one to wield that force was Yeon Mujin, who had returned seven times.

He forced open what was blocked, corrected what was twisted, and gently loosened what was stiff.

Rattle-rattle!

By the end of the cycle, an acrid smoke and a stench began to emanate from Yeon Mujin’s entire body.

“Haa…”

He’d tuned his body to the level of Travelling Swallow Qi Cultivation and rebuilt it.

It wasn’t the complete transformation people call ‘Immortal Cultivation,’ but he expelled over twenty years’ worth of grime with one qi circulation, enough to call it a ‘Qi Transformation.’

“Doing this seven times has taught me the tricks.”

It was an experience most people never have in a lifetime; Yeon Mujin had already done it seven times.

Even the small rebirth was a mess the first time he returned.

He panicked figuring out when he’d returned, stumbled into circulation late, and a sudden bout with the duel’s organizer almost sent him into qi deviation, an embarrassing black mark…

‘That time I nearly died for real.’

But not now. He had time enough to bring water to a full, even boil and drink a cup of tea.

That didn’t mean he could wander freely… Yeon Mujin sat cross-legged and calmly sorted his thoughts for the remaining time.

‘What I have left… are the regression experiences accumulated seven times. It’s no exaggeration to say I know every weakness of the Bukgung Family’s young masters.’

Of course, through his past life he had served them more than anyone else.

Regression left him with more than that.

‘The attainment in Travelling Swallow Qi Cultivation and martial skill. Stamina can be built through training. My body’s younger now, so progress will come quickly.’

The Travelling Swallow Qi Cultivation Yeon Mujin had learned was somewhat special compared to other cultivation techniques.

Typical cultivation methods focus on accumulating internal qi. How pure and how quickly you store it differentiates Justice-faction martial arts, Demonic arts, and Evil methods.

But Travelling Swallow Qi Cultivation specialized less in storing internal qi and more in repairing the body and keeping it healthy, more like a regimen for nourishing life than a pure internal qi art.

A third-rate method to justice faction warriors pursuing martial arts extremes, but for a wandering warrior like Yeon Mujin, it was invaluable.

For someone with neither home nor temple, having all limbs intact and a healthy body was most important.

“Regression experience and martial arts skill.”

Those two were Yeon Mujin’s weapons.

Until previous regressions, that had been enough, but this time he felt unusually unsure.

He’d already made all six of the Bukgung Family’s young masters head of the family and seen them fall. He could make any one of them head again with his eyes closed.

But perhaps this time…

“Sigh!”

He scratched the back of his head and complained, but what good did that do?

“Is there a way? I just have to try.”

Time was almost up.

He’d learned through multiple regressions: after the Bukgung Family fell, he always returned to this day.

The very day he first entered the Bukgung Family.

“The finalists of the Bukgung Guard Tournament, come to the duel platform!”

Yeon Mujin loosened his cross-legged posture and slowly left the waiting room.

Filled with a resolute will to succeed this time for sure…

“By the way, Yeon Mujin, what’s that smell coming from you?”

“I sweated a bit while waiting.”

“No matter how I sniff, it doesn’t smell like sweat.”

“Shut up.”

“Is it just the final left now?”

Bukgung Cheon, the current lord of the Bukgung Family, asked the Outer Affairs Leader with a bored expression.

“Yes.”

Outer Affairs Leader Yeom Sugon bowed politely and replied.

Bukgung Cheon suppressed a low sigh and yawned.

A superior’s sigh is a typhoon to subordinates. Yeom Sugon watched for cues and quickly spoke.

“The number of warriors applying for the Bukgung Guard has greatly declined. With fewer applicants, the level has naturally dropped, it seems.”

The Bukgung Guard Tournament to select the Bukgung family’s protectors, this grand yearly event, had reached its end. As Yeom Sugon said, few warriors were left vying to become the Bukgung Guard.

It wasn’t that the Bukgung Family’s reputation had truly diminished. The Family remained prosperous and would for centuries.

It was just that the power alignments of the six young masters vying to be the next head were nearly settled.

Some allied with the Nine Great Sects, some with the Martial Alliance, some with the Imperial Court, and others with the Evil and Demonic Sects.

That’s what being lord of the Bukgung Family means. Grasping a tie to one of the young masters grants immense power.

In such an entrenched balance of power, the emergence of a new figure was unlikely.

“Still, Blood-Scarf Hand, Wei Do-heon, who reached the final, is quite a name.”

Wei Do-heon had given no small bribe to Outer Affairs Leader Yeom Sugon to secure victory in this Bukgung Guard Tournament.

Yeom Sugon, in return, had prepared the field for Wei Do-heon’s win, arranging for equally matched rivals and eliminating strong contenders early by various means.

Thus, Wei Do-heon’s final opponent was an unknown wanderer; his defeat was unlikely.

“He’s from the Red Crow Clan, a famous Evil sect faction in the south. Whatever Wei Do-heon chooses, he’ll certainly be a solid asset to the young masters…”

“Leader Yeom.”

“Yes?”

Bukgung Cheon cast a penetrating gaze. Yeom Sugon felt the hairs on his body stand up.

That was the look of the Bukgung family’s lord.

A sovereign’s gaze that probed a person’s insides and set them on edge.

“You haven’t even held the match yet.”

“I’m sorry.”

After staring at the bowed Yeom Sugon for a long moment, Bukgung Cheon spoke.

“Leader Yeom.”

“Yes.”

“Even a frog, if fed beyond its fill, will have its belly split.”

“…I’ll remember.”

Bukgung Cheon dropped a cryptic line as if he’d glimpsed Yeom’s corruption.

Cold sweat formed on Yeom Sugon’s back. He slowly raised his head to read the head’s expression, but Bukgung Cheon had already turned his gaze to the duel platform.

Two contrasting warriors stood on the Bukgung Guard Tournament’s duel platform.

One wore flowing robes adorned with every ornament, and red cloth wrapped his fists like blood; this was Blood Scarf Hand, Wei Do-heon.

Wei Do-heon smiled broadly as if he’d already won and waved to the crowd.

By contrast, Wei Do-heon’s opponent wore ragged martial clothes that put even a pauper to shame and carried an old sword at his waist.

His expression gave off lazy irritation, his swagger evoking a mangy stray dog.

“…?”

Bukgung Cheon’s caterpillar-thick eyebrows twitched.

“That one.”

“Yes?”

“What did you say his name was?”

At Bukgung Cheon’s question, Yeom Sugon eagerly answered.

“Blood Scarf Hand, Wei Do-heon! What do you think aren’t his airs greater than the rumors? It seems the winner of this Bukgung Guard Tournament is already decided…”

“No, it’s the opposite.”

Yeom Sugon frantically checked the pairing list and found the name.

“Uh, that man’s name is Yeon Mujin. No known alias. Probably just a lucky wanderer who made it up here…”

A deep vertical crease formed between Bukgung Cheon’s brows.

“Are you saying the Family’s Bukgung Guard Tournament is a place where luck can carry someone to the final?”

“No, that’s not… I’m sorry!”

Bukgung Cheon rolled the wanderer’s name in his mouth as he looked at the man on the stage.

“Yeon Mujin, Yeon Mujin…”

Something flickered in his eyes.

“Leader Yeom.”

“Yes!”

“Let’s make a bet.”

“Yes! Yes. Wait, yes?”

A bet, suddenly?

Bukgung Cheon wasn’t the sort to enjoy idle chatter, especially not with his retainers.

Yeom Sugon’s startled face was overlaid by Bukgung Cheon’s confident expression.

“I’ll bet on this Yeon Mujin to win.”

“To meet me, your luck’s bad, isn’t it? Heh heh,”

Wei Do-heon laughed as he looked at Yeon Mujin.

Victory was basically guaranteed; he’d given all sorts of gold to the Outer Affairs Leader for this day alone.

Thanks to that, his final opponent looked like a shabby ronin picked up off the road.

‘Maybe it’s my imagination, but I think I smell something…’

Sniff.

‘…Wait a moment.’

“Hey, what’s that smell?”

Yeon Mujin looked genuinely puzzled and answered.

“What smell are you talking about?”

“Suddenly there’s a rotten stench from somewhere.”

“Perhaps today is the Bukgung Family’s latrine-cleaning day.”

“It wasn’t there a moment ago. It started when you came up.”

“Then maybe there’s a latrine buried under the stage.”

“No, there’ve been fights on this platform several times today. The smell comes from you.”

Then Yeon Mujin suddenly raised his voice and snapped at Wei Do-heon.

“Shut your mouth! You filthy bastard! Who talks of filth right before the sacred Bukgung Guard final?!”

Wei Do-heon stared at Yeon Mujin, flustered.

‘What the hell, this guy’s crazy, isn’t he?’

At that moment the final’s organizer approached the two men.

“If you’re ready… wait, what’s that smell?”

Yeon Mujin quickly pointed his finger at Wei Do-heon.

“This one rushed out from the latrine and didn’t wipe, such a filthy person cannot be allowed to win this glorious title!”

The organizer, hearing only Yeon Mujin’s words, glared at Wei Do-heon.

Wei Do-heon bristled and denied it.

“You lunatic, what nonsense is that…!”

“Shut up! Filthy scum. You base, despicable dog. Is this a scheme to throw off my concentration with smell?!”

“Alright, alright, both of you stop.”

Wei Do-heon was dumbfounded.

“No, I’m the one being smeared, how am I supposed to just stop!”

“Stop it. The Family lord is watching.”

From the high seats, Bukgung Cheon watched the duel platform with authority.

If they kept arguing, they’d attract his ire. That would do Wei Do-heon no favors.

Meanwhile Yeon Mujin shamelessly returned to his spot, indifferent to Wei Do-heon’s indignation.

Creak!

Sparks flew from Wei Do-heon’s glare at Yeon Mujin.

‘You shameless bastard! I’ll make sure you can’t walk off this platform on your own two feet!’

Wei Do-heon clenched his blood scarf tightly.

This would likely be the cruelest final in Bukgung Guard Tournament history, because he intended it so.

“Both warriors, take your assigned positions!”

The organizer separated and positioned the two.

Wei Do-heon filled the pressure point in his soles with qi.

Ready to rush and beat that scoundrel to death at any moment!

Yeon Mujin, on the other hand, stood relaxed without even drawing a blade, as if he’d been in these finals many times.

The final’s organizer raised his banner high. Then his shout rang out.

“Bukgung Guard Tournament, final?!”

At that moment, Yeon Mujin quietly infused his internal qi and whispered.

“Do-heon.”

“…?”

“You’ve had it rough too.”

“…?”

As the organizer’s flag fell, Yeon Mujin was smiling.

Why was he smiling? Had he lost his mind from nerves?

‘Alright, let’s see if he can still smile after a hit.’

“Begin!”

Slash!

Wei Do-heon charged at Yeon Mujin with full force.