What The Hell Is This Situation? - 1

A dream. No, he didn’t know if it was a dream or a memory or a hallucination as he danced on the edge of death. He didn’t know if he was already dead, dying, or still alive.

All he could see was the past.

Childhood memories: his appearance from when he first entered the Mount Hua Sect; the scenes of training with Sahyung; the time he’d fled the strict sect rules and gone to see the world.

“Before a warrior, you are a practitioner. You must realize that power without ethics is just violence.”

Nagging.

Constant nagging.

It bored him. While he was a disciple of Mount Hua Sect, he didn’t fully follow the teaching. Despite his natural talent, which earned him the title of “Plum Blossom Sword Saint”, he was but a mere beginner in the Mount Hua Sect.

Why didn’t he realize earlier? Even when the teachings didn’t make sense, even when he felt out of place… everything that made him him he owed solely to the Mount Hua Sect. That was why he admired the sect so much.

He realized too late. Too late for regrets.

If only he’d paid a little more attention to the teachings, if only he was a little bit stronger, he might have been able to change that bitter ending. If only he…

“Do you regret your decisions?” Chung Myung heard the soft voice of Sahyung Jang Mun. His father, his older brother, his family—this man was Chung Myung’s goal. He wanted to follow him until the very end, but it was too late for that too.

Yes, I regret it. I regret it so, so much, Sahyung.

“There is no need for regret.” His voice exuded warmth. “It is the Mount Hua Sect after all.”

…Sahyung. It seemed to Chung Myung that Sahyung was chuckling. Forever warm and benevolent.

“Because it is the Mount Hua Sect.”

Tak!

Even then…

Puck!

Huh? What?

“Aggggggggggggghhh!” It hurts! My head! I don’t get it! What kind of pain is this? Is this what it feels like when your limbs are cut off?

“H-Heavenly Demon?” Is that bastard not dead yet? Chung Myung instinctively raised his hand to protect his head. If he wasn’t dead yet, these attacks would finish him off for good.

“Heavenly Demon?” But the voice that answered him wasn’t the Heavenly Demon, but a thick, sniveling voice he didn’t recognize.

“Huh?” When he opened his eyes, the face was equally unfamiliar.

A beggar? Beggar. A beginner—judging by the knot tied around his waist, he’d just started. A beggar among beggars.

The beggar with the grumpy, scruffy face eyed Chung Myung.

What is it? He couldn’t understand what was happening.

“‘Heavenly Demon’ – yeah right!” The beggar’s face flushed red with irritation. “You lazy bum, still sleep talking! Everyone else has gone off to beg, but you’re still here sleeping like you did something great! Yah! Do I make you laugh, huh?” The beggar hefted his bamboo stick.

Hold on… Is this kid threatening me right now? So that’s how it is.

“Huh?” The beggar was startled by Chung Myung’s sudden smirk.

It was an odd situation, but he didn’t feel like he needed to bother with context. Just who was Chung Myung, after all? He handily ranked among the top three of all the numerous swordsmen in the world. People praised his sword style as the true essence of Mount Hua Sect and dubbed him the Plum Blossom Sword Saint – the two other Great Swordsmen weren’t worthy of being his opponents. Even the Heavenly Demon, in his final moments, acknowledged Chung Myung’s swordsmanship. Disciples and sect leaders alike bowed before him.

But this beggar was making a threat? A threaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

“Huh? Ungh? Are you laughing now?”

“Look here, kid.”

“‘Look here?’”

“I’m struggling to understand the situation, but for starters you can put that thing down.”

“Ha. Hahahahaha. Hahahahahahahaha!” The beggar could only laugh.

Chung Myung scowled. How dare he react to him like this?

And then the beggar smacked Chung Myung with his bamboo stick.

Huh. Chung Myung was dumbfounded. How dare a mere beggar do something like this, knowing who Chung Myung was? No matter what happened, he was going to fix this beggar’s attitude before the day was up.

First, he had to stop that baton! Chung Myung raised his right arm…

…What?

Huh?

Slow? Why were his arms so slow?

The baton was fast, but why were his arms reaching for it so slowly? It made no sense—with his speed, he should already be holding that stick.

Ah! Maybe it was because of his injuries? Then all he had to do was move on to his guts…

Uh? What’s that? On the edge of his vision, he saw a small hand appear, moving towards the baton at a snail’s pace.

Too slow and…

…too short?

Huh? Hands that small couldn’t stop it! This wasn’t going to work!

The stick landed squarely on Chung Myung’s head.

Chung Myung collapsed to the ground, convulsing. All of his thoughts were driven away by the skull-splitting pain.

“Kuaaaaaa!” Chung Myung clutched his head and rolled over. Even his arm being ripped off hadn’t hurt like this!

“You bastard!” The beggar laid into him in earnest. “Situation? Understand the situation? I’ll do that! But I’ll make sure you understand the situation first! If you go crazy, you go crazy! Stupid bastard! Did the heat rot your brain? The medicine for heat is getting hit, you bastard!”

“Ack! Ack! Ack! You crazy beggar! Stop right now, if not… ack!”

“Die! Die!”

“Ah—it hurts! Ack!” Chung Myung’s cries changed little by little as he was beaten.

“—You bastard! I won’t let this go! I’ll make sure to rip you—”

Smack!

“—Stop! Stop it now, please, you jerk!”

Smack!

“—Ack! Accckk! Why are you hitting me! Ack!”

Smack!

“You– beggar– ah, ack! Sorry!”

The whipping continued with no remorse.

“…save…”