Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 61 - At Any Rate, I Forgot It All

Chapter 61 – At Any Rate, I Forgot It All

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Translated by Heavenly Cat

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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Ju-seong quietly gazed at the old man who had spoken to him.

He had clearly mixed internal energy with his words, so he was undoubtedly a martial artist, yet Ju-seong couldn’t feel any presence from him at all.

That meant he was a master far beyond what Ju-seong could dare to challenge. Ju-seong asked with due respect.

“…I nearly lost my mind there. Thank you for stopping me. But who are you, Senior?”

“Hehe, first put down that hand of yours. The man can barely breathe.”

Ju-seong loosened his grip on Geum Dae-bang’s throat and said.

“…That doesn’t change the fact that this man must die.”

“How could I not understand?”

-Swish.

Something like a flash of light passed by, and before he knew it, the old man was sheathing a precious sword he had never seen before into a white ivory scabbard.

“Huh?”

When Ju-seong turned his head, Geum Dae-bang had already died with a vertical hole in his forehead.

The cross-section of the skin on his forehead and the skull beneath was as smooth as if it had been precisely cut with a thread saw.

Ju-seong stared blankly, admiring the skill that had reached its zenith.

“Truly, I feel as if I’ve been bewitched by a ghost… Which master are you, exactly?”

It was the same thing the invaders had said to Ju-seong earlier. It seemed that when an overwhelming master appeared, this phrase naturally escaped the lips of martial world folk.

“I too heard that this man was inciting people to attack the Bai tribe and came here.”

Ju-seong slowly nodded, then took his eyes off the old man and looked around.

It seemed the situation needed to be sorted out.

Though Ju-seong and Red Beggar had dealt with all the first-rate martial artists, the remaining martial artists were still around.

Ju-seong leaped up onto a pile of manure in the rice paddies and looked down at them.

“…Drop all your weapons and kneel. Before I tear you apart and kill you.”

The second-rate and below martial artists, sensing that even if they all charged together they wouldn’t stand a chance, began laying down their weapons one by one.

In the midst of this, one dim-witted fellow among the Bai tribe martial artists also started to lower his sword but was smacked on the back of the head by the senior martial brother behind him.

“Get a grip.”

“Ow.”

Ju-seong narrowed his eyes at the martial artists, then shifted his gaze to the rear.

“That wasn’t just for martial artists. The commoners should also put down their weapons.”

At his words, the commoners who had armed themselves with pitchforks, sickles, and wooden clubs reluctantly set down what they were holding.

Ju-seong left the martial artists alone for now and addressed the commoners.

“I am not someone who normally bothers commoners who aren’t martial artists. I have no intention of doing anything to you right now. But there are a few things I must say. Where is the man who said his wife was having convulsions and seeing things?”

“That’s me.”

A man who looked about twenty timidly raised his hand.

Ju-seong nodded and asked again.

“And the one who said his father was coughing up bloody phlegm?”

“That’s me.”

This time a youth who didn’t even look twenty raised his hand.

Ju-seong stared at them and let out a small sigh.

“So you left your sick wife and father behind and came here with bamboo spears, sickles, and pitchforks to persecute other people’s families. It’s the same for all of you. Your own flesh and blood must be bedridden…”

He paused and sighed deeply once more.

He couldn’t stop sighing. It felt like his heart was being twisted into knots.

Ju-seong himself was a physician, so he knew that he had to often calm his mind with deep breaths to prevent anger from settling in his chest.

“…What did you hope to gain by abandoning them and coming all this way with such hideous expressions, harboring hearts even more hideous than your faces?”

Among them were farmers, merchants, traders, waiters, cooks… People who would normally have worked hard each day were present.

When he made eye contact with each of them, they either lowered their gaze or turned their heads away.

“…”

Some of them reddened with shame, some looked like they were about to burst into tears, and others seemed ready to cry, thinking their necks would fly off at any moment.

Standing before over a hundred people, Ju-seong spoke as if making a declaration from atop the manure pile.

“Go back. Go back and care for your wives, care for your fathers, care for your mothers, your siblings, your relatives, and friends… Go back with hurried steps. I’m saying this because I don’t want to harm you.”

The commoners fidgeted and looked at Ju-seong as if asking whether they could really leave. It seemed their feet wouldn’t move properly.

Ju-seong released his killing intent and coldly threatened them.

“Go quickly. Before I kill every last one of you.”

Only then did they begin to vacate the area in orderly fashion.

When the commoners had formed a procession and moved far away, Ju-seong turned his head back to the martial artists.

“You bastards. Don’t expect the same mercy to come to you. Today, none of you will leave here on two legs. First, the bastards I beat unconscious earlier… They should be scattered here and there in the fields, so collect them without missing any and assemble them here.”

After giving that order, Ju-seong plopped down on the manure pile. When he glanced at the old man from before, the man was observing Ju-seong’s words and actions with apparent interest.

‘What a strange old man. He seems to be an orthodox faction martial artist, though.’

Beside the old man stood some random fellow, standing there blankly. He was a man who clearly didn’t match being beside such an elder.

He had the particular disposition of someone who had wasted his life… Having spent time wandering the streets as a performer, Ju-seong had seen many men like that.

While Ju-seong was thinking about this and that, the martial artists had gathered up all those Ju-seong had subdued.

Some had already died, while others still clung to life.

Ju-seong leaped down from the manure pile and spoke.

“I will cripple your martial arts. Anyone who thinks they’d rather die than lose their martial arts? No one?”

There was no one.

Ju-seong nodded.

“Right. Living as a commoner is better than dying. You’re all mediocre anyway, so losing your internal energy won’t cause much backlash… Since your bodies have been tempered by internal energy until now, you should be able to make a living doing physical labor wherever you go.”

He pointed at them one by one as he spoke.

“Then you too will come to understand the hearts of those who live powerlessly, those who see the sunrise as they go to work and see the dawn moon as they return home. By the way, I had no home to return to after work. Since the streets were where I lived, and those same streets were also my workplace.”

One martial artist knelt and pleaded.

“Great one, I have a wife and children at home. If I lose my martial arts, who will feed them until I find work? Please show mercy.”

“Ah.”

In an instant, Ju-seong’s figure vanished and reappeared in front of that martial artist, crimson energy wrapped around his right hand.

-THWACK!

A palm strike loaded with piercing force slammed into the martial artist’s lower abdomen, and he writhed in agony as his dantian shattered and scattered.

“I see that showing mercy to the commoners made me look like a bodhisattva. That’s a grave misconception. I’m a man who would make even the Buddha give up in disgust. I rarely know mercy.”

Ju-seong lightly sniffed. The claim about having a wife and children was nonsense. Even if it had been true, the result would have been the same.

After all, a person must take responsibility for their own actions.

At that moment, the old man stepped forward again.

“If you destroy their dantians one by one with your own hands, there will be those who are severely injured. Your energy operation is rather violent, you see. If you’ve decided to cripple their dantians, I’ll do it for you.”

“If Senior would do it, I would be grateful.”

Destroying the dantian located in the lower abdomen was actually a task that only a fairly skilled master could perform.

If one used a heated metal skewer to gouge it out, even a commoner could do it, but that would kill the person.

Hitting them hard with palm force like Ju-seong had done, penetrating with piercing energy, could cripple the dantian while sparing their life, but a mistake could severely injure someone.

Precisely locating and shattering the dantian with a finger technique, like his master the Divine Physician could do, required an uncommon level of energy sense and mastery.

The old man stepped into the middle of the martial artists and drew out sharp sword energy from his finger.

Ju-seong expected it would stop at about an inch or two in length, but it kept growing longer.

Red Beggar, who had come up beside him, also asked in bewilderment.

“Uh, why is that getting longer?”

“How would I know…”

‘Wouldn’t it be better to just get hit by me at that rate?’

For Ju-seong, who knew the power of sword energy, this was perplexing. If he stabbed them with sword energy that long, how was it different from a metal skewer?

But the extending sword energy suddenly grew thin and began transforming into a waving thread of sword energy.

In the martial world, there was a technique called energy thread, which involves drawing out energy like a strand.

But sword energy is refined energy, so it’s inherently rigid and stiff. How could one pull out a thread from sword energy…?

‘I don’t even want to know more. He’s an unfathomable monster.’

Anyway, the sword energy thread, now as thin as a strand of hair, began writhing through the air like a mad eel, stabbing precisely through the martial artists’ lower abdomens.

-Poke! Poke! Poke! Poke! Poke!

Even the sound of piercing flesh wasn’t very loud, and the martial artists whose dantians were destroyed grimaced in pain but didn’t scream in agony.

Making emitted energy change direction was possible by introducing imbalance to the emitted energy. Red Beggar used that method to draw out energy, making it difficult for opponents to predict.

But making it move according to one’s will to pierce desired points wasn’t possible through that method alone.

‘Sword Control Technique…’

A technique incorporating the art of sword control.

Ju-seong could tell that this mysterious old man was a master of truly dizzying heights.

He would be in the top ten at the very least. And that standard was the entire martial world.

That meant he was one of those called the Ten Venerables Under Heaven.

While Ju-seong and Red Beggar watched in daze, a woman in white robes quietly approached and spoke.

“Great one, I have received an immense grace that I cannot even begin to imagine how to repay. I am Bai Li, daughter of the sect leader of the White Crane Sword Sect. I offer my thanks on behalf of the entire Bai tribe village.”

“Lady Bai Li, it’s nice to meet you. Take me to the wounded.”

“Pardon?”

Ju-seong pointed at the rare beauty before him and repeated.

“Are you deaf? The wounded. There will be wounded among the Bai people. Take me to them. Seeing that you’re the one giving thanks, it seems the sect leader was also severely injured.”

“Ah, yes…”

How could she not follow the command of their benefactor? Even if he weren’t their benefactor, when a peak-level martial artist told you to do something, you did it.

Ju-seong snatched the gourd from Red Beggar’s waist with the deft hands of a peak-level master.

“Hey, Brother, that’s my last one.”

“Thanks.”

‘Why does this guy’s drink supply never seem to run dry?’

Where he kept finding liquor to refill it was a mystery.

Ju-seong drank as he followed Lady Bai Li.

-Glug glug glug…

Lady Bai Li trembled slightly upon hearing the sound.

‘I’ve heard that many masters in the martial world are madmen… Is he a madman, no, a madperson…?’

Ju-seong drained the liquor from the large gourd, then plopped down in the middle of the open area where the wounded were laid out.

He took out a small porcelain bottle the size of his palm from his robes, uncapped it, and set it beside him.

“Please stand guard for me.”

“Ah, yes.”

Bai Li and the other Bai tribe martial artists rushed over to surround him and began standing guard.

-Drip, drip…

Ju-seong closed his eyes and concentrated, placing his index finger on the bottle’s mouth. Clear drops of liquor fell one by one.

“Pure alcohol…?”

At the peak-level realm he had now reached, Ju-seong could use his energy to filter the liquor that entered his body and convert it to pure alcohol… a technique that required mastery of energy manipulation.

The porcelain bottle filled up, and he used the pure alcohol to sterilize his hands and medical tools.

He surveyed the wounded lying around.

“Now, let’s save those who would die… and make those who would be crippled live with all limbs intact.”

The Divine Physician’s disciple started treatment with those words.

At first the Bai tribe martial artists watched with puzzlement, but once they realized Ju-seong’s skill was no ordinary thing, they moved in unison to procure boiled water, clean cloths, and the like.

Ju-seong himself was cut and scraped and bruised here and there, but he focused on treatment for now.

He forgot about the martial artists getting their dantians destroyed in the distance, forgot about the fact that there were too many bastards in the world who deserved to be beaten to death, and forgot about the fact that he didn’t really need to go this far for strangers.

That damned Black Dragon Gang, the hair-raising laughter of the Flower-Snapping Laughing Killer, the cold malice that had been in Geum Dae-bang’s eyes…

At any rate, he forgot it all. Amazingly, his mind that had been filled with killing now held only one word written large: living. Once again, the question remained: was he poison or medicine? Ju-seong forgot that question, too.