Chapter 20. Fairness and Unfairness
***
Somewhere in the Central Plains.
It was an underground cavern steeped in a dark and lewd atmosphere.
At the center of the cavern stood a massive platform, draped with a red curtain. It was clear that someone was inside, yet no one could see them.
No one knew who it was, but even without seeing the face behind the curtain, one could tell that the one hidden there was the master of this place.
Around the platform, one hundred figures dressed in black were prostrated on the ground. All of them had their heads lowered, so their faces could not be seen.
Even so, it was obvious beyond doubt that they were masters. The formless pressure emitted by the black-clad figures spread through the entire underground cavern, threatening to suffocate it.
Just where was this place?
Who was the person behind the curtain?
Who in the world could command as many as a hundred such terrifying masters?
Could there be this many supreme experts at Shaolin, the peak of Murim? Or perhaps at Heavenly Demon Castle, said to be the strongest single organization in Murim?
No, even if one combined both of them, it would still be impossible. That was how extraordinary the internal energy of those gathered here was, and their numbers were overwhelming.
About the time they had been prostrating themselves for the span of one tea.
"How long until the orthodox–demonic showdown?"
At last, a voice flowed out from behind the curtain. It was a bizarre voice, impossible to tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman, young or old.
"Two years remain."
One of the prostrated figures answered.
"Two years… Then it is time to begin the grand plan. Gwangun."
The voice behind the curtain called the one who answered Gwangun.
"Yes. Please command me, Martial Founder."
Gwangun addressed the one behind the curtain as Martial Founder.
"Begin the First Plan. Immediately."
The First Plan. Having already mentioned the grand plan, this clearly referred to its very first step.
"Yes, Martial Founder. I will carry it out at once."
With that reply, Gwangun vanished on the spot as if extinguished. It was a truly spine-chilling movement technique.
And then.
There were ninety-nine others here, all dressed the same as Gwangun. They still had not raised their heads.
Lastly.
There was the supreme one behind the curtain who commanded them all, Martial Founder.
Martial Founder.
The root of martial arts.
What an outrageously arrogant name.
Since Murim's history began, there had been those who bore grand epithets such as Martial Emperor, Heavenly Demon, or Martial Supreme, but no one had ever dared to call themselves the "founder".
Just how formidable could such a person be? One might wish it were nothing more than the delusion of a madman . But seeing the ninety-nine peerless masters bowing their heads here, it was clear that this was someone whose strength truly matched that arrogant name.
At this very moment, a secret organization unknown to anyone in Murim had begun to move in utmost secrecy.
What was their goal?
That was still unknown.
But there was something even they did not know.
That was…
The existence of Dong Bong-su, the greatest "bug" in this Murim—no, in New Murim Online.
A cauldron can stand when it has three legs, four legs, or even just one leg.
But the time when a cauldron stands the most firmly is…
When it has no legs at all.
A legless cauldron can never be toppled.
What Dong Bong-su needed was not legs, but a cauldron that would never fall.
If something creaked because its length did not match, cutting it off would suffice.
That was Dong Bong-su's Tripod Balance.
***
Thud, shwaaak, thud, shwaaak.
Deep in the mountains of Bongyang, someone was digging with a shovel.
Someone? Who could possibly be here, wielding a shovel so skillfully? A carpenter? A potter? Or a burial worker?
None of those.
It was Dong Bong-su, out on a stroll. Beside him, as always, Yeoro fluttered softly, cheering him on with an indifferent gaze.
Thud, shwaaak, thud, shwaaak.
The steady sound of digging echoed through the mountains, as mechanical and emotionless as Dong Bong-su himself.
Even as he dug an unknown person's grave, his mind was racing. How much did his thrust proficiency increase with each dig of the shovel? And how much did his throw proficiency increase each time he flung the dug-up soil aside?
His brain never rested for a moment.
Thud.
The shovel sank deep into the ground. Thrust proficiency increased by 0.031%.
Shwaaak.
The soil left the shovel and flew toward the artificially piled mound beside him, raising its height even more. Throw proficiency increased by 0.031%.
Thud, shwaaak, thud, shwaaak.....
Dong Bong-su's movements continued in the same posture for a long time.
Then, at some point, the seemingly endless digging finally stopped.
Dong Bong-su's gaze turned toward the bottom of the deep pit. The culprit that made him stop digging grotesquely revealed its body above the soil.
White and hard, with not a trace of flesh to be seen even if one strained their eyes—it was a piece of bone.
It was a kind of "milestone," indicating that the hole had reached a suitable depth to bury a corpse. Beside that milestone, hidden in the unseen soil, dozens of corpses were probably rotting away in the same manner—white and grotesque.
This was a cemetery created by Dong Bong-su. There were no tombstones, no burial mounds, but it was where the experience points that made him the Nameless Martial Hero were buried—especially those who had died more miserably than others.
Corpses burned to death, corpses split in half with their entrails spilling out, corpses torn apart limb from limb, and so on.
The reason he bothered to come here to bury them was simple. It was for the sake of preserving that mask he had obtained by chance—a mask he could put on again at any time. That mask, the name "Nameless Martial Hero." After all, someone called a hero should not kill enemies too cruelly. And so Dong Bong-su began burying the grotesquely slain bodies of the black faction here. Of course, the very first ones buried here were Jang Ho and the ruffians.
Thud-thud.
Another dozen or so corpses were added to the cemetery. These were the grateful fellows who had raised Dong Bong-su's level from 6 to 7. On the face of the last one thrown in, with only half of its bulk remaining, a grotesque expression still lingered.
Perhaps even long after death, it still felt deeply wronged.
That face seemed to be saying this.
[It's unfair. Fuck! It's unfair!]
Dong Bong-su did not know what was so unfair. To him, such cries were nothing more than empty nonsense.
In Dong Bong-su's view, this world was extremely fair. The world he had lived in before was the same, and the Murim he lived in now was also fair.
That the dead felt it was unfair was surely an illusion.
This world is fair because.
It is unfair to everyone.
To you, to me, to anyone.
Death is the same.
Death comes to everyone fairly. To everyone equally.
If the dead felt it was unfair, it was probably because death had come to them a little earlier than to others. But in the end, death comes to everyone equally.
The world is therefore always fair.
That was why he could view the world as fair, and the fundamental reason he could ravage the world without guilt.
Thud, shwaaak, thud, shwaaak.
Soil piled over the faces of the dead. The rhythmic sound of digging once again echoed faintly through the mountains.
One by one, the traces of the Nameless Martial Hero's "final act of chivalry" were erased.
Thud, shwaaak, thud, shwaaak...….
With this, the Nameless Martial Hero would disappear from the world for a while.
***
After finishing his stroll, Dong Bong-su came down from Bongyang Mountain.
He and Yeoro entered the market, but no one paid them any attention. He was like a transparent man in these streets. Even if he were to suddenly disappear here, no one would care.
"Did you hear? They say the Nameless Martial Hero finally wiped out even the Black Snake Association yesterday."
These days, all the people in the market were focused on the Nameless Martial Hero. Whenever two or more gathered, they praised the bloodshed he had carried out so far.
The three gathered by the roadside as Dong Bong-su passed were no different.
"Don't even get me started. The merchants and courtesans who'd been squeezed dry by the Black Snake Association are overjoyed."
"But they couldn't find the association leader, Bang Po-yeom, right? Did he run away?"
Of course, Bang Po-yeom was currently rotting on Bongyang Mountain, giving off a stench.
"Who knows. Either he fled completely out of Anhui Province, or he was smashed so badly they can't even find a corpse. One of the two."
At that moment, a man who had been listening with a displeased expression joined the conversation.
"But you know, I don't like it. Is it really okay for someone called a hero to kill people so recklessly? No matter how much they're from the black faction, people are still people."
"Hey now, look at this guy. Think about everything those bastards have done to us. They wouldn't even deserve it if we tore them apart alive. They deserve to die. I wouldn't care even if the Nameless Martial Hero really ate them as food."
"Yeah, yeah."
The two who had been talking from the start glared at the sulky man as they sprang to the Nameless Martial Hero's defense.
"To be honest, when has the authority ever properly cared about ignorant folks like us? And those so-called orthodox path bastards just strutted around puffing out their chests—when were they ever truly orthodox? They never cared whether people like us lived or died."
Under their attack, the sulky man finally surrendered and nodded in agreement.
"Well, that's true. Who would ever step up for bottom-dwellers like us?"
"He may have gone a bit far, but haven't people said since ancient times, 'evil must be slain immediately'?"
"Right, right."
And so, in the end, the conversation here also flowed toward praising the Nameless Martial Hero's deeds of chivalry.
Is this what they call interpreting dreams more elaborately than the dream itself?
The dream is murder. The interpretation is chivalry.
A world where murder so easily transforms into chivalry. In that alone, isn't this Central Plains truly a beautiful world?
Dong Bong-su paid no heed to their conversation and continued walking.
As he moved farther away from the three, the voices of two other people reached his ears.
"Hey, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"They say the second daughter of the Namgung Family is holding her wedding this time."
"Ah, I heard. That's why all of Anhui Province has been buzzing lately."
"That's right. I bet even the sects here in Bongyang are wracking their brains over what congratulatory gifts to send."
"Eh, that can't be. A wedding at a place like the Namgung Family—do you think they'd accept just anyone? Probably the only one truly racking his brain is the head of the Danri Family."
"Hmm. Now that you put it that way, you're probably right. Then what do you think the head of the Danri Family will bring as a congratulatory gift?"
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