After the Divine Dragon left, we wrapped up some casual conversation, and when I returned, Paejon was already inside the inn. A pile of food was spread out across the table.
âWhatâs all this?â
âIsnât it obvious?â
Of course, I knew.
That was exactly the problem.
âWhy did you order so much food?â
âSome of itâs to take with us. Arenât you curious?â
âCurious about what?â
âMonkâs dumplings. Arenât you intrigued?â
â...â
I paused for a moment at his words.
âSo he noticed.â
This old manâheâd figured it out.
The guy eating dumplings at the inn earlier was none other than Shaolinâs Divine Dragon.
Well, if I recognized it, there was no way Paejon wouldnât.
I sat down with a faint grimace, dragging a chair closer. Picking up one of the dumplings from the table, I asked,
âCan I eat this?â
âYouâve already touched it with your dirty hands. Why ask now?â
âDirty? I always wash my hands thoroughly.â
âYouâd better. What would you do if you didnât?â
â...â
What is this infuriating conversation?
I wrinkled my nose and took a bite of the dumpling. As expected, it was still delicious.
It was the same flavor Iâd asked Moyong Hee-ah to bring over.
Rich and flavorful.
The aroma was delightful, the taste even better.
If nothing else, Iâd be genuinely annoyed if this place ever disappeared.
After stuffing the remaining dumpling into my mouth, I asked Paejon,
âSo, what happened?â
Paejon crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
âWhat do you mean?â
âThat earlier incident. What happened afterward?â
I was asking about what transpired after the Divine Dragon knocked out that manâwhatever his name was.
âWhat else wouldâve happened? The people from the alliance came and took him away.â
As expected, nothing unusual had occurred. MoreoverâŠ
âThe alliance took him.â
If the alliance hauled away a drunk first-class martial artist causing trouble, he wouldnât come back in a good state.
At bestâŠ
âI wonât be seeing him around here for a while.â
Good. Watching him wreak havoc in the inn had beenâŠ
âI was tempted to deal with him myself.â
But now it seemed I wouldnât need to dirty my hands.
On that note, should I grab another dumpling?
Just as I reached out, Paejon broke the silence.
âDid the talk go well?â
His question instantly killed my appetite.
âYes, it went fine.â
âYou didnât beat the kid up, did you?â
ââŠ?â
I frowned at the strange question.
âWhat do you mean âbeat upâ? Do you want people to think Iâm some kind of thug?â
Unbelievable.
What kind of person does he take me for? Why would I beat anyone up?
âItâs not like beating him wouldâve done any good.â
âHmm.â
Paejon didnât argue with my words. He had no reason to.
After all, the Divine Dragon was clearly no ordinary figure.
âIndeed. Tianan has produced quite the remarkable one.â
Remarkable one.
For such words to come from Paejonâs mouth was no small thing.
Hearing this, I let out a small laugh.
âDid he impress you?â
Curious if heâd taken a liking to the Divine Dragon, I asked. Paejonâs lips curled into a slight smirk.
âWhy? Are you jealous?â
What? What kind of nonsense is that?
âElder, have you lost your mindâŠ!â
Before I could finish, something shot forward and stopped inches from my face.
Chopsticks.
âShould I pluck out your eyeballs with these? They seem to be malfunctioning.â
ââŠIâm sorry.â
I offered a short apology, and only then did Paejon pull back the chopsticks.
Suppressing the irritation bubbling inside me, I couldnât help but think,
âI didnât see it.â
The issue wasnât that I hadnât activated my spiritual vision; it was that I couldnât catch Paejonâs movements at all.
Had his speed increased since reaching the
Hwagyeong
?
I didnât know. But one thing was clear.
âI wonât be challenging him anytime soon.â
I had thought I was finally catching up, but that idea had been shattered again.
It was infuriating, to say the least.
âJealousy? Jealous of what? Thereâs nothing worth envying here.â
I clicked my tongue, my words dripping with frustration. Paejon chuckled.
âA fine body is nothing to scoff at, but itâs not everything.â
âWhy not? Didnât you say having an exceptional body was important?â
âI did. But surely you know that yours isnât the only one that meets the criteria.â
He was right.
Although my body had been shaped by regression and countless miraculous encounters, there were others out there with the minimum requirements to learn the
Tua Pacheonmu
.
Not that they were exactly common, but they werenât impossibly rare either.
âI realized it even more after trying it myself.â
Contrary to Paejonâs search for someone with an extraordinary physique and talent, the
Tua Pacheonmu
wasnât a technique that demanded extraordinary talent.
At first, I had been intimidated by how advanced it seemed.
But as I learned it, I discovered it wasnât nearly as difficult as Iâd feared.
The fact that someone like me, with no natural talent, could master it was proof enough.
âThough I have to admit, a lot of credit goes to Paejon.â
If something didnât work, heâd make it work.
If it still didnât work, heâd change the approach and try again.
To him, there was no such thing as âimpossible.â
That was Paejonâs philosophy.
Following his lead, things always seemed to work out in the end. Frustrating as it was.
Looking at it that way, I began to wonder if the
Tua Pacheonmu
wasnât as challenging as Paejon made it out to be.
âYou naive disciple,â Paejon clicked his tongue. âYouâre making a grave mistake.â
He stared at me with a mix of disappointment and pity.
âAs you said, there are many with the right physical conditions. But how many have reached those conditions at your age?â
âWell, thatâs true.â
A body capable of withstanding the
Tua Pacheonmu
.
Sure, there were plenty who met the requirements, but how many had achieved that at such a young age?
Counting them wouldnât even reach ten.
Even now, as I ran through my mind, only four came to mindâincluding myself.
âFurthermore, the most important trait for mastering martial arts isnât the body or talent.â
âWhat is it, then?â
âPatience.â
Patience?
Judging by his expression, he was serious. But it wasnât a concept I found particularly convincing.
Patience as the most important trait?
Surely patience was a given for anyone pursuing martial arts.
If itâs something that goes without saying, how could it be the most important? I just couldnât relate.
Paejon mustâve seen the doubt on my face because he clicked his tongue again.
"You Disagree?"
ââŠI just canât quite agree with that.â
I knew exactly what he meant.
Learning the
Tua Pacheonmu
had been an excruciating process.
To forcibly transform my body, I had to move my bones, stimulate my muscles, and even affect my blood vessels. The pain felt like someone was dancing with knives inside me.
Every movement had to be flawless, with not the slightest disruption of my flow. I had to endure that pain and repeat the same motions tens of thousands of times.
âOnce Iâd taken one step, I had to move to the next.â
I lost track of how many repetitions Iâd done. The only way to count was by days. Ten days to perfect a punch. Fifteen days twisting my waist.
Thatâs how the time passed. Thatâs how I got to where I am now.
Paejon never rushed me, and I didnât move on until Iâd perfected each movement. Neither of us grew impatient or frustrated.
Despite feeling that time was scarce and slipping away, I never blamed anyone but myself for my shortcomings in my past life.
Thatâs how Iâve reached this point.
And so, I wondered:
âWhat was so difficult about it?â
What could have been so hard?
Patience was a given for anyone learning martial arts. Not realizing that was why I had wasted my past life.
Now, Iâm simply trying not to make the same mistakes.
Pain can be endured. Frustration can be overcome.
Whatâs so difficult about that to call it talent? Itâs just a matter of enduring.
â...â
As I said this plainly, Paejon silently watched me.
After a moment of contemplation, he finally spoke.
âYou idiot.â
âWhy the sudden insult?â
âYou just seem particularly clueless today.â
Paejon stood, grabbed some of the food from the table, and announced,
âLetâs go. Itâs late.â
I stood as well, following his lead.
âSo, what exactly were you going to tell me earlier?â
âHm? Ah.â
As I trailed behind him, I asked about what heâd wanted to say earlier.
âItâs nothing important. Youâll find out eventually. Donât worry about it for now.â
ââŠThat just makes me worry more.â
How could I
not
worry when he phrased it like that? Especially coming from someone like him.
This man constantly tells me not to cause trouble, butâŠ
âHeâs not exactly the most peaceful person himself.â
Stories about his younger days are infamous. Destroying entire sects just to test his martial arts, or dismantling martial artists from rival schools and âreassemblingâ them.
His younger nickname even included âMad Dogâ for a reason.
From what I can see, itâs not just martial arts heâs obsessed with.
âThe guyâs just insaneâŠ.â
Whoosh!
ââŠ!â
Chopsticks flew toward my eyes, just like earlier.
I barely turned my head in time to dodge, but it was a hairâs breadth away.
Startled, I glared at Paejon and shouted,
âWhat the hell was that for?â
âYou looked like you were thinking nonsense, so my hand moved on its own.â
â...â
Damn it.
I clicked my tongue internally. His instincts were as sharp as ever.
When I looked up again, Paejon was already stepping out of the inn.
Suppressing my irritation, I silently followed him.
On our way out, a voice called out hesitantly.
âUh, excuse meâŠâ
Turning toward the sound, I saw the woman who had been harassed earlier.
Mi⊠something. Misoon? Misook? Whatever.
âDoesnât matter.â
Looking at her, I asked,
âWhat is it?â
It was unusual for someone who wasnât a martial artist to approach me, so I raised an eyebrow as I responded.
âEekâŠ!â
She flinched, stepping back in fear.
â...â
âI-Iâm sorry⊠so sorryâŠ.â
Normally, Iâd brush something like this off, but this actually stung a little.
Was my face really that terrifying?
The kids said it wasnât, but here we are.
Still, no need to take it out on a civilian. Suppressing my annoyance, I asked again,
ââŠSo, what is it?â
âA-ah, um⊠wellâŠâ
She pointed toward somethingâor someone.
Paejon, already far ahead, was disappearing down the street with hurried steps.
Whatâs with him? Was he that hungry? Did he secretly have a gluttonous streak?
ââŠUh, actuallyâŠâ
The womanâs hesitant voice interrupted my thoughts.
âH-he didnât⊠payâŠ.â
ââŠ?â
Didnât pay?
He took the food and left without paying? Narrowing my eyes, I repeated her words internally.
âWait. No wayâŠ.â
Looking back at her, her trembling voice confirmed my suspicion.
âH-he said⊠someone in his group⊠would pay for itâŠ.â
â...â
Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke.
Ha.
This damn old manâŠ.
******************
When Did It Start?
It hadnât been long, but recently, Iâd begun to dream more frequently.
Not that it was particularly surprisingâdreaming wasnât new to me.
The problem was, most of them were nightmares.
Dreams that dragged me back to the sins of my past life.
Dreams of those I couldnât save, of those who died for my sake.
They were horrifying, unrelenting nightmares.
I hated dreaming because of them.
Thatâs all my dreams ever were.
But recently, the dreams had been different.
It started shortly after I finally stopped dreaming entirely.
Just as I thought I could finally enjoy restful sleep, the new dreams began.
They werenât about my past life.
They were of situations I had never experienced, things I had never seen before.
Even the scenes changed each time.
The only constants were that I was always in the dream,
and the person beside me never changed.
Tonight was no different.
I was walking somewhere again.
And beside me, as always, was that person.
âYour hand is cold.â
I spoke as I held someoneâs hand, glancing at the figure next to me.
I couldnât see their face.
All I knew was that it was a woman and that she always appeared in my dreams.
How could I be so certain when her face wasnât visible?
I donât know. I just knew.
It was something I felt instinctively.
When I carefully held her hand, the woman smiled.
âHaha, itâs autumn. Itâs not even cold.â
ââŠIf Iâm cold, then itâs cold.â
What a ridiculous thing to say.
Watching myself act like that made me want to throw up.
What kind of absurd dream was this? My mood soured instantly.
And yet, the woman laughed as if she enjoyed it. Maybe because it was just a dream.
No real woman would laugh at something so foolish.
âThe leaves have turned red.â
âAre they pretty?â
âTheyâre especially beautiful this year.â
I unconsciously tightened my grip on her hand.
She was the one leading me, guiding the way.
I followed her, oddly wishing we could walk slower.
âTheyâll be even prettier next year.â
âHow can you be so sure?â
âBecause I know everything. Iâm smart.â
ââŠSure.â
âYou donât sound convinced.â
âI believe you.â
She seemed to be about my ageâor rather, the age I was right before I died in my past life.
When I answered half-heartedly, the woman pouted, her voice filled with displeasure.
âI really do know everything. Why wonât you believe me?â
âI told you, I do believe you.â
âNo, you donât. Youâre lying.â
Her voice sounded faintly sulky.
Then, she let go of my hand.
As the warmth disappeared, a strange sense of regret stirred within me.
Walking lightly ahead, she turned back to face me, speaking softly.
âShall I tell you something else?â
âWhat is it?â
Her voice was cheerful, almost brimming with happiness.
Her, me, and even the autumn leaves felt oddly radiant.
âDo you think this baby will be a boy or a girl?â
She spoke as she placed a hand over her belly.
I gasped in surprise.
Now that she mentioned it, her stomach was slightly rounded.
Noticing it made my chest feel tight.
âI donât know.â
âDonât you have a preference?â
ââŠIt doesnât matter. Either is fine.â
Whether it was a son or a daughter didnât matter.
At least, I would strive to be a better father than my own.
Thatâs what I was thinking, even in the dream.
The woman smiled at my naive self.
âI knew youâd say that.â
Even though I couldnât see her face,
I could tell she was smiling brightly.
I couldnât see her smile,
but I felt it.
I wanted to reach out.
I wanted to hold her hand again.
Move.
If this is a dream, let me move.
As if responding to my desperate wish, my body began to move.
I walked toward the smiling woman, reaching out my hand.
I wanted to hold hers again.
But just as I was about to touch herâ
âNo.â
The woman stepped back.
Why? Why was she suddenly pulling away?
Confused, I looked at her. She kept her smile as she spoke.
âYou canât do this.â
âWhy not?â
âYou canât remember this.â
âWhat are you talking about all of a sudden?â
âItâs our promise.â
She began to walk away.
Ignoring her incomprehensible words, I chased after her.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldnât close the distance.
Panic set in.
Why couldnât I reach her?
I stretched my hand toward her.
I ran as hard as I could, but the distance remained the same.
âWhat theâŠ!â
âListen.â
The woman spoke as she watched me struggle desperately.
âPlease, be happy.â
Her smiling words were filled with sorrow.
âIf youâre happy, I think Iâll be okay, too.â
âWhat are you even talking about?!â
Then I realized.
The beautiful scenery around us had disappeared, replaced by pitch-black darkness.
It was falling.
A deep, terrifying darkness was swallowing everything.
Even knowing this, I didnât stop running.
I kept running, trying to reach her, but she only whispered softly as she watched me.
âGoodbye.â
That was the end.
Her words were the last thing I heard before the darkness swallowed me whole.
âHahâŠ!!â
I jolted awake.
âHuff⊠huffâŠâ
Sitting up abruptly, I gasped for air.
ââŠWhat the hell⊠what the hell was that?â
I couldnât shake the deeply unsettling feeling. What kind of twisted dream was that?
âWait.â
And yetâŠ
ââŠWhat was the dream about?â
For some reason, I couldnât remember a single thing about it.
It was as if I hadnât dreamed at all.
Not a trace of it lingered in my mind.
That only made the feeling even worse.