Reincarnation of the Fist King Chapter 40

< The King of Fists Watches the Eve of the Festival >

“Did you think there weren’t any crazier people in the world than you?”

“That’s not it, though.”

Danwoo Seong sat on the floor and continued speaking while looking at Cheolmyeongho who was out of his mind.

"You sloppy, idiot bastard. You're just a idiot in the neighborhood, but in the world of martial arts, no one will even know who you are. After I kill you, they won't even care about your name."

That was the reality, Cheol Myeong-ho replied.

“Why do you say the right thing and then tear people’s hearts apart?”

“You’ve achieved a hundred thousand times, so I’ll tell you the next story.”

Cheol Myeong-ho nodded.

“Oh my, thank you, my friend.”

“I have no intention of teaching you difficult swordsmanship.”

Cheol Myeong-ho responded with a timid look on his face.

"Then wouldn't it be difficult to become stronger? As you said, there are many martial artists who studied the swordsmanship of the great sects before me, and even more diligently."

Danwoo Seong spoke in a calm tone.

“Myungho.”

"say."

"Joining a prestigious school, learning renowned swordsmanship, and receiving instruction from a great master isn't everything. Becoming strong is a more fundamental matter."

Cheol Myeong-ho listened attentively to Dan Woo-seong's words. His expression was intensely serious.

Danwoo Seong continued speaking.

"It all depends on who lives more seriously."

“It’s something I think I know, but also something I don’t.”

“If those who like to talk loudly were to choose the best swordsmanship since the beginning of this world, nine out of ten would choose the Dokgo Gugeom, which has been practiced.”

“I’ve heard of Dokgo Gugeom, too. Most people, when they were young, would swing a stick around and shout, ‘Dokgo Gugeom.’”

"Even martial artists hold Dokgo Gugeom in the highest regard. However, they all agree that only one man's swordsmanship surpasses Dokgo Gugeom's. I agree with that."

Cheol Myeong-ho swallowed hard and asked.

“What is that?”

Danwoo Seong answered.

“The man drunk on the sword, Jin So-han’s Taoist method.”

"I'm hearing this for the first time? Jinsohan Gong? What's your nickname?"

"There are too many nicknames to know. This man isn't from a sect. He's an undefeated man who was already known as the best in the world when he was young, not much older than us. If you're interested in martial arts, you need to know his story first."

“Do it.”

“I held a sword from the time I could walk, and I danced with a sword until my early teens.”

“Why the sword dance?”

“Because I came from a performing arts group.”

“Oh, you mean that lewd sword dance where you strip your opponent of their clothes with that sword?”

“That’s correct.”

Cheol Myeong-ho blurted out a joke and then was startled.

“What? Really?”

"He practiced it for over ten years. He practiced sword dance every single day without fail. He probably didn't know if he would ever enter the martial arts world or spend his life dancing there. But the important thing is that he practiced it more earnestly than anyone else. Why did he do that?"

“It’s not like I’m trying to make money.”

"No. Because if you make a mistake, the other person gets hurt. According to the biography, he mainly danced swordsmanship with the older sisters who raised him. What must have been in his mind? The heart of a young boy who practiced swordsmanship to protect the older sisters who took him in as an orphan."

“You must have been serious.”

“Then what significance did that sword dance have as a martial art?”

“Well, it probably wasn’t a formal martial arts course······.”

"I've been swinging my sword for over ten years, simply to avoid cutting my opponent. You only appeared before me after swinging it a hundred thousand times in just sixty days. Jin Sohan Gong has been swinging his sword for ten years. Simply to avoid cutting his opponent."

“So, you’re not crazy? From what I’ve seen, I think you might be a little crazy.”

"I don't know about that. The important part is the next story. This man met his masters and formally learned Taoism. A man who had wielded a sword for ten years to avoid cutting others learned Taoism for killing. We can expect that his enlightenment about the sword would have exploded. He would have experienced a great awakening."

“That’s a crazy story.”

"Sohan Gong unified the Black Way, dismantled the Demon Way, and defeated the White Way's masters, becoming the greatest in the world. Of course, he had a master, but he must have honed his Taoism alone. His Taoism surpassed even that of Dokgo Gugeom, considered the greatest in the world. That's why it's still talked about today. In the long history of martial arts, no one has ever wielded a sword as skillfully as Jinsohan Gong."

“Well, that’s great.”

Cheol Myeong-ho nodded.

Danwoo Seong said.

"That's why I'm telling you this. The excellence of swordsmanship, tradition, and school are irrelevant. The question of how strong you will become, therefore, returns to the starting point. Will you live as a rat or as a tyrant? That's the only question."

Cheol Myeong-ho sympathized.

“That’s just the problem.”

"You just need to train enough to become strong enough to become a Dokjonghori. Then, leave the rest to fate. I don't know what will happen to you. Now, what will you do?"

Cheol Myeong-ho answered while looking straight into Dan Woo-seong's eyes.

“Tell me what’s next.”

“Regret.”

"does not exist."

Danwoo-seong stood up, grabbed the iron umbrella again, and unleashed a series of horizontal slashes and thrusts. He had merely taught the so-called "Three Talents Sword Technique." However, it wasn't an easy task. The iron umbrella was much heavier than the long sword.

Danwoo Seong asked while handing over the umbrella.

“Do you remember?”

"Am I stupid? I remembered. I'll swing it a million times, not a hundred thousand."

“Come here.”

Danwoo-seong nodded, then went to the window and opened it wide. The streets were already crowded with people, as the Yongbongdaeyeon Festival was about to begin.

And since we were staying in the most expensive accommodations, most of the people coming and going were also strong men.

Even in the building across the street, on the street, and on the first floor, most people eating or drinking tea were carrying weapons.

Danwoo Seong and Cheolmyeongho stood side by side and looked at the people outside the window.

Danwoo-seong pointed at a passing swordsman. He didn't look particularly impressive.

“How many times do you think that man swung his sword?”

Cheol Myeong-ho replied, crossing his arms.

"Well, between five hundred thousand and a million times? I don't feel particularly strong."

“The man next to him······.”

“I don’t know. He looks more like a master than a swordsman.”

Danwoo-seong nodded.

“Do you see that?”

“It’s just a feeling.”

“Was that feeling there even before swinging it a hundred thousand times?”

Cheol Myeong-ho opened his mouth as if he realized something.

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

"It's said that observing prayers is gaining a certain degree of insight into an opponent's strength through your five senses and experiences. The stronger you become, the more accurately you can perceive their prayers. Of course, prayers can be hidden. This is because fighting is fundamentally a psychological warfare."

Cheol Myeong-ho suddenly awakened his senses and looked at Dan Woo-seong. When on earth had those arms become so strong and thick? Cheol Myeong-ho realized that this guy could easily kill him with a single swing of his hand. A chill ran down his spine for no reason.

“······I think I know.”

Danwoo Seong replied.

"That's why you should be careful with your words and actions towards the martial artists. Only do that cussing when I'm with you. You'll most likely get beaten to death."

Cheol Myeong-ho swallowed hard.

"I get it."

Cheol Myeong-ho said this while looking outside.

"By the way, there are so many strong players out there. As you said, I don't see anyone who looks like they could be easily defeated."

"Because it's the Martial Arts Alliance. Plus, the Yongbongdaeyeon, a later-stage competition, is about to begin. It's no exaggeration to say all the young masters have gathered here."

Cheol Myeong-ho was surprised.

“What? You were stuck here because you wanted to participate?”

“Then why am I here?”

“What is the goal?”

When asked whether it was about winning or advancing to the semifinals, Dan Woo-sung laughed.

"You'll know when you see it. And since it's rare to witness the Yongbongdaeyeon in person, find lodging nearby and watch it all. You'll gain a lot. You don't have anything else to do anyway."

Cheol Myeong-ho responded by taking the lottery ticket.

"Yes, there's nothing more to do. Thank you for your sharp and blunt remarks. Then, get some rest. Dokjongho will go find lodging."

Danwoo-seong nodded.

“Yeah. Turn it off.”

After Cheol Myeong-ho grabbed his umbrella and left Dan Woo-seong's room, he paused and glanced around the wide hallway for a moment. His expression was sullen.

Cheol Myeong-ho turned around and stared blankly at Dan Woo-seong's room.

With a truly expressionless face, he knelt down and bowed once to Danwoo Sung. Countless resolutions and thoughts raced through his mind. Then, Cheolmyeongho stood up again and walked down the hallway, muttering to himself:

“Thank you for saving my life, and I will repay the favor you taught me. Because I am the only one who can do it.”

Cheol Myeong-ho left Danwoo-seong's quarters, clutching a wooden umbrella.

.

.

.

Even after Cheolmyeongho left, Danwooseong continued to gaze out the window. What was about to happen? People were gathering. The atmosphere was one of something happening. He hadn't chosen his lodgings to witness this, but the view was simply perfect.

The event that was about to take place was a festival called the eve of the Yongbong Festival.

Even Dan Woo-seong didn't know if it was official or unofficial. The gangsters who had taken up lodging, like Dan Woo-seong, all had their windows wide open and were staring out at the street.

After a while, as the crowd crowded together, leaving only what appeared to be a circular stage, a man stood in the center. He waved his fan and asked the crowd.

“Do you know why I came here?”

As answers poured in from all sides, the man nodded and responded.

"That's right. You've all made the right point. For those who don't know, I'll add something. The Yongbong Festival has too many participants. Many of them are exhausted or possessed by the magic of the spirits waiting for the preliminaries. Furthermore, the chances of you meeting the opponents you really want to face in the actual matches are slim. Therefore, we'll use this preliminaries to narrow down the number of participants, allowing those you've always wanted to face to compete under the rules of the Yongbong Festival. Above all, we'll relieve your boredom. And most importantly, if you feel you're not up to the level of the competition in the preliminaries, don't even bother attending the Yongbong Festival. It's too low-level… We don't want the Yongbong Festival to become boring with all the random people participating."

Here and there, the man's words resonated. Danwoo Seong had never participated in the Yongbong Festival before. However, the excitement of this eve was no less intense than that of the Yongbong Festival.

The man said, pointing to several places where there were onlookers.

"The eve of the event will be watched by the martial arts alliance members. Anyone who engages in a cowardly surprise attack, uses secret weapons, or interferes with the match will be dealt with immediately by the martial arts alliance members. I don't know how many people are watching, so please refrain from taking any rash action."

What should we call this?

In a way, it was also an opportunity to spread the word of the event's fame. The preliminaries were held in various locations, and the eve of the event was a gathering place for all interested parties.

Danwoo-seong smiled with his arms crossed.

A world of martial arts that was completely different from the one of his previous life where he lived alone was unfolding.

<The King of Fists Watches the Eve of the Festival> End

ⓒ Eugene Sung

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