Chapter 23

Ring-ring- Ring-ring-

Chief Secretary Kim Hyeon-seok took out his smartphone and checked the incoming number.

“Huh? I don’t recognize this number…”
“Don’t answer it.”
“What?”

Hyeon-seok looked at Seung-ho.
Without a word, Seung-ho showed him his own smartphone.

[47 Missed Calls.]

“Ah…”
“Yeah. I’m not answering, so they’re calling you instead. Rich bastards sure get their information fast.”
“Then all of those are…”
“Yeah. Calls looking for Mr. Jun-gyeong.”

Hyeon-seok frowned.
Ever since the incident at the pavilion, practically every wealthy or powerful person who had been there, and even those who had merely heard about it, had been calling nonstop.
Neither Seung-ho nor Hyeon-seok had any intention of handing Jun-gyeong’s information over to them.
But if they kept answering calls, there was no telling when they might accidentally let something slip.
Seung-ho had decided that refusing to answer at all was the safest option.

“Uh, I think you might need to take this one…”

Seung-ho saw the name displayed on Hyeon-seok’s phone, gave a faint laugh, took it from him, and threw it onto the floor.
Then he stomped on it.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“There. National Security Director, Intelligence Director, whatever. Tell them all to piss off. Don’t even answer the president.”
“…That’s…”
“I’ll buy you another one.”
“Okay.”

Seung-ho leaned back in his chair, spun halfway around, and looked down at Seoul, hazy beneath the fine dust.

“So where is he now?”
“Jeju.”
“…Hallasan?”
“Yeah.”
“After searching so hard for some remote mountain wilderness with clean air, he made it all the way to Jeju.”
“Jeju’s air is still pretty clean.”

Seung-ho folded his arms and nodded, remembering the day he and Hyeon-seok had visited Jun-gyeong a month earlier.

“Huff- Huff- Huff-”
“Hah- Hah- Hah-”

Seung-ho and Hyeon-seok climbed the metal stairs to the rooftop with their tongues practically hanging out.
Jun-gyeong looked at them and lightly shook his head.

“You both desperately need exercise.”
“Huff… I… do… exercise. This is… Hah… Hah…”
“Hah- Hah- Kgh-”

Both Seung-ho and Hyeon-seok were solidly built from regular training.
Seung-ho had trained in various martial arts and self-defense techniques since childhood to prepare for the threat of kidnapping, while Hyeon-seok had learned close-protection and counterterrorism techniques so he could serve as Seung-ho’s closest line of defense.
Both were reasonably confident in their physical conditioning.
The problem wasn’t their stamina. It was the hill.
A hill so steep it was hard to believe such a hillside neighborhood existed in Seoul.
The house at the very top.
And the rooftop room above it.
It might well have been the closest place to the sky in all of Seoul.
The two caught their breath and shook their heads.

“So, what brings you here?”
“What? You called us.”

Jun-gyeong fell silent for a moment at Seung-ho’s answer before continuing.

“Right. Ahem. I’m planning to leave for a while.”
“Leave?”
“A remote mountain valley with clean air and little pollution…”

Jun-gyeong stopped and looked at the two of them.
His gaze seemed to ask whether they even understood what he meant by such a phrase, making Seung-ho chuckle.

“I graduated from Seoul National University Law School. He studied economics there. We know what a remote mountain valley is.”
“Good. In any case, I intend to find such a place.”

The reason he was looking for somewhere with clean air and little pollution was to cultivate his internal energy.
Internal-energy cultivation began with breathing through the mouth and nose, and ended by bringing that breathing back into order.
The circulation of breath was the fundamental principle of Qi Circulation.
And Qi Circulation was the foundation upon which internal energy was consolidated and developed.

After reclaiming Mukhwa and recovering his former martial arts, Jun-gyeong practiced Qi Circulation on the wooden platform beneath the morning sun to refine his internal energy, then practiced again beneath the moonlight at night.
His breathing followed the methods of the past, but his internal energy didn’t respond as it once had.
Believing the murky atmosphere thick with fine dust to be the cause, Jun-gyeong had decided to search for a more suitable place to cultivate.

Seung-ho nodded at Jun-gyeong’s explanation.

“Sounds like it’s finally time to use the Three-Legged Crow Card.”

Hyeon-seok nodded as well, and Seung-ho continued.

“We have Samo resorts tucked away in deep. mountain. valleys. all across the country. Show that card at any resort front desk and they’ll immediately give you the best room available. If being around people bothers you, I can give you the locations of our family’s private villas instead. And if you’re going to be traveling around like that, you’ll need a vehicle. I’ll provide one with a driver. If even that would be inconvenient, I can simply give you a car. Actually, why don’t we just buy you one while we’re at it?”

A smile slowly began spreading across Seung-ho’s face.
But Jun-gyeong shook his head.

“No. I’m looking for somewhere without buildings. Somewhere a car can’t reach.”

The two frowned slightly.
A place with no buildings that a car could not reach.

“…I’m not sure a place like that still exists in Korea.”

Seung-ho nodded emphatically in agreement with Hyeon-seok.
Jun-gyeong answered firmly.

“I’ll find one if I look hard enough. Don’t concern yourselves with it.”

A questioning look appeared on Seung-ho’s face.

“…But why are you telling us about this?”
“Ok-hee said the two of you would be busy because of me. She told me that if I went anywhere, I should make sure to let you know.”
“Hmm… Well… yes. We are busy, but you don’t need to worry about any of that. We’ll take care of it.”

Seung-ho nudged Hyeon-seok, who immediately nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Yes! Absolutely. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll handle everything.”
“Thank you.”

Seung-ho scratched his head and asked another question.

“Then how are you planning to travel?”
“I’ll run.”
“What?”
“What?”

Question marks appeared on both their faces at once.
They couldn’t quite process the idea that Jun-gyeong intended to cross the entire country on foot in the twenty-first century.

“I’ll take care of that myself. Don’t worry.”
“Understood. But…”

Seung-ho cautiously watched Jun-gyeong’s expression as he continued.

“When you get back, at least let me get you a car…”

Seung-ho still hadn’t given up on buying Jun-gyeong a car.

The first place Jun-gyeong visited was Gangwon Province.
Seoraksan.
Rather than follow the ridges used by ordinary hikers, he carved out a route of his own up the mountain.
The rugged ridges of Seoraksan’s Daecheongbong were little different from flat ground beneath feet infused with internal energy.

Standing atop Seoraksan’s main peak, Jun-gyeong drew a deep breath.

“This must be it.”

The cold, sharp mountain air sank deep into his lungs.
It was entirely different in character from the air in Seoul.
His own home stood atop a hill with relatively clean air compared with central Seoul, but even that couldn’t compare to this.
A cool spiritual energy lingered here, stripped of fine dust and noise and carrying the atmosphere of some primeval age.

Jun-gyeong settled onto a broad rock and sat down.

“Hoo…”

He steadied his breathing and slowly circulated his Qi.
But before long, he brought his breathing back under control and rose.

“Not here either.”

After descending Seoraksan, Jun-gyeong passed Jeombongsan and headed toward Odaesan.
The endless mountain ranges proved no obstacle as he scaled sheer cliffs and crossed cloud-draped ridges in a single rush.
Each time he kicked off the ground with internal energy concentrated in his toes, dozens of meters vanished behind him.

Birobong of Odaesan.
The deep mountain terrain hidden among its gentle ridges gave him hope.
But the moment Jun-gyeong set foot on the summit, he frowned.

“This place too… nothing but an empty shell.”

The earth energy was excellent, but minute impurities mixed into the air grated against his sharpened senses.
A thousand years ago, the earth itself had breathed out sacred Qi. Now the atmosphere felt stifling, as though covered by an enormous veil.

He didn’t stop.
He descended the rugged stone ridges of Dutasan and arrived at Taebaeksan, revered as one of the sacred mountains of the Korean people.
Beneath Cheonjedan, he sat cross-legged at a spot famed for possessing the purest energy, but the result was the same.

“Hoo…”

The turbid breath he exhaled dispersed as white vapor.
He rose before even completing a single full circulation of Qi.
To build truly pure internal energy, he needed pure natural energy capable of cleansing even the soul.
But the mountains of this age were little more than vast collections of rock and trees. The vitality capable of replenishing a martial artist’s very foundation had already dried up.

Jun-gyeong didn’t give up.
He cut through Sobaeksan’s knife-like winds and crossed the sacred peaks of Woraksan.
Standing atop Munjangdae of Songnisan and looking down over the winding mountain ranges, Jun-gyeong’s eyes filled with deep frustration.

“And yet I’ve scoured all of Korea…”

Even in rugged terrain inaccessible by car and deep mountain valleys untouched by human footsteps, there seemed to be nowhere beneath this sky left unpolluted.
The smoke and noise spewed out by civilization had already become an invisible veil choking the breath from the Baekdudaegan.
After passing Deogyusan and climbing Cheonwangbong of Jirisan, his final stronghold, Jun-gyeong drew Mukhwa from his pocket.

His gaze followed the ridgelines below before turning far to the south.

“There’s still one place left.”

Jun-gyeong headed toward an island across the blue sea at the southern end of the Korean Peninsula.
Hallasan, a massive volcano where the dragon vein of the Baekdudaegan was said to sink beneath the sea and rise again, was his final hope.

Hallasan towered before him with an atmosphere entirely unlike the mountains of the mainland.
Black basalt, dense primeval forest, and a powerful sea wind wrapped around the entire island.

Long before tourists began climbing the Seongpanak Trail, Jun-gyeong took to the mountain ridges beneath the empty darkness before dawn.
Hallasan’s slopes seemed gentle, yet they pressed heavily even against the calves of a martial artist.

Whoosh-

Jun-gyeong leaped from treetop to treetop as though they were stepping stones.
Each time he passed through a grove of Korean firs, the cool scent of sap lingered around him before fading away.
The closer he drew to Baengnokdam, the thinner the air became, while his solitude deepened beneath a sky that seemed almost within reach.

At last, the summit above Baengnokdam.
A vast sea of clouds blanketed the enormous crater.
Jun-gyeong stopped before the sight, like an island floating above the clouds.

“Halla. They say it’s a mountain where one can reach out and pull down the Milky Way. The name is no empty boast.”

He sat cross-legged at the edge of the crater.
The wind blowing in across the sea whipped mercilessly at his clothes.
This was the highest place he could reach on the Korean Peninsula and the place farthest removed from the noise of civilization.
With his last hope, Jun-gyeong drew up the energy deep within his dantian.

Jun-gyeong held his breath and read the flow of the atmosphere.
It was clean.
There was none of the stale taste of fine dust he had sensed in the mainland mountains.
The wind, carrying the pure energy of the Pacific, entered his lungs as though washing them clean.
But his brief exhilaration quickly turned bitter.

“…Nothing.”

Jun-gyeong slowly opened his eyes.
The air was clean, but the spiritual energy that should have dwelled within it was absent.
Pollution wasn’t the problem.
This was an age in which martial power itself had faded, and the earth no longer shared its energy with martial artists.
The Qi that had flowed everywhere a thousand years ago had now dried up even in the heart of this massive volcano.

“Was I asking for too much?”

Jun-gyeong gave a hollow laugh and rose.
The sea of Jeju below Hallasan was blue enough to make his eyes ache, yet his heart was growing cold.
He had followed the Baekdudaegan south and crossed the sea to reach this place, yet nowhere on this land existed a place where he could restore the pure internal energy he had possessed a thousand years ago.

“So in the end, it was never merely the environment.”

He had searched mountains, fields, seas, and islands, yet found no answer.
His body had grown stronger, yet the strange thirst at his very foundation remained unfilled.

He turned north toward the sky above Seoul, the city he had left behind.

“Let’s go back.”

Without looking back, Jun-gyeong launched himself into the sea of clouds surrounding Baengnokdam.

“How did the search go?”

Jun-gyeong merely nodded at Ok-hee’s question.

“Looks like you didn’t find what you wanted?”
“…Something like that.”
“CEO Yang Seung-ho asked you to join him for a meal.”
“All right.”

The meeting place was a restaurant near Hyoja-dong, past the Gwanghwamun Gate.
The car Ok-hee was driving glided smoothly across Gwanghwamun Square.
Jun-gyeong stared impassively at the heart of Seoul beyond the window.
In the middle of Gwanghwamun Square, a colossal structure towered in stark contrast to the historic landmarks around it, filling his view.

It was Gwanghwamun Gate Hall, hailed as one of the masterpieces of the age of Dimensional Fusion.
Around it rose a vast forest of glass towers.

“First time seeing it since you descended to the mortal world, right?”
“It is. I haven’t seen that place before.”
“Well, you’ve been busy with one thing after another. I’m sure you’ll have occasion to cross into another dimension sooner or later.”
“Another dimension…”

Jun-gyeong looked at the buildings as though wondering whether such a day would ever come.

The car passed through the Gate Hall’s enormous shadow and turned toward Hyoja-dong.
The glittering skyscrapers of Gwanghwamun receded behind them as they passed the massive walls of the former Seoul government complex.

Shhk-

Something caught Jun-gyeong’s senses from an alley on the boundary between Dangju-dong and Pilun-dong, where weathered barriers had been erected ahead of redevelopment.

“Stop.”
“What?”
“Stop.”

SCREECH-!

Ok-hee slammed on the brakes, and Jun-gyeong immediately jumped out and ran toward the alley.
It stood in complete contrast to the magnificent forest of gleaming towers.
The Gate Hall’s radiance pierced the sky, while beyond it stretched weathered tiled roofs that looked almost abandoned.
Jun-gyeong stepped into the neighborhood and drew a deep breath.

“Hoo… Found it.”

A strange flame flickered in Jun-gyeong’s eyes as he stood at the entrance to Sajik-dong.