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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: This Time With My Own Eyes
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"Ssssp..."
The pitch-black predawn hours.
After Wolhyang had fallen asleep, I crossed my legs once more and entered a state of Circulation and Breath Adjustment.
I'd already checked my body's condition, so now it was time to properly form my dantian.
No matter how ragtag the Fallen Ghosts Pavilion thugs were, they were still martial artists. It was better to build up at least a bit of internal energy in preparation for any unexpected situations.
"Huu..."
As I focused my mind, feeling the circulation of the air, I could sense the flow of true energy passing through my body.
Before my regression, I'd haphazardly formed my dantian using some half-baked method I'd picked up on the battlefield, and it had caused me no end of trouble later on. But this life was different. I was building a solid foundation from the start.
As I inhaled, the true energy scattered throughout my body reached all the way to the tips of my fingers, evenly distributed. In a normal person, true energy was the root of life itself, spread evenly throughout the body like this.
But to use martial arts, it was crucial to concentrate that true energy in the muscles responsible for specific movements.
The inner cultivation methods of each sect were defined by how they did this, which in turn shaped the forms and motions of their martial arts.
The Blood Heaven Asura Art that I had mastered was a unique martial art, woven together from my personal insights and the techniques I'd honed across countless battlefields.
Unlike the orthodox sects' arts, it had no foundation and wasn't meant for step-by-step cultivation. It was a demonic art designed solely for killing people.
Since it was born from my own enlightenment alone, I was probably the only one in the world who could use it—but that also meant it was optimized perfectly for my body.
In other words, it was ideal for someone starting from zero to initiate into martial arts.
"Ssssp..."
As I breathed in, the true energy scattered throughout my body gathered in the lower dantian below my navel.
"Huu..."
The true energy amassed in the lower dantian rippled like gentle waves, passing through the perineum acupoint and rising along the Conception Vessel, through the middle and upper dantians, before returning to the lower dantian.
That completed one full circulation.
Easier said than done—for a complete novice to martial arts, guiding the lower dantian's true energy through one full circulation safely was like climbing a mountain blindfolded, reaching the peak, and finding your way back down the exact same path.
Incredibly difficult.
That's why a master teacher would usually assist a disciple in forming their dantian, calling it initiation. But right now, I was my own master.
As the true energy returned safely to the lower dantian, a sensation arose deep in my lower abdomen, like dew forming.
The dantian had been formed.
"Hoo."
Finishing the circulation, I opened my eyes to find sunlight already streaming through the window.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"What the heck? Why are you here alone?"
When dawn broke and I headed to the back alley, Taeu was waiting for me by herself.
"Where'd Noodle and Pig run off to?"
"The others bailed. They said it was obvious you'd lose and they didn't want to get dragged into it."
"Then why didn't you run?"
"You said it yourself—how can I know without seeing it? So this time, I'll see it with my own eyes."
Taeu stood ramrod straight with her small, skinny frame, staring straight into my eyes just like yesterday.
Until yesterday, her jet-black hair and lifeless eyes had given off a deeply gloomy vibe, but now those dark eyes reflected a spark of life.
"Good choice. Lead the way. I'll make sure those bastards are burned into your eyes as the worthless scum they are."
We plunged even deeper into the shadows of the already dim back alleys.
Anyone passing by for the first time wouldn't even realize there were paths here.
After weaving through side streets, we reached the exterior of a building so dark no light could penetrate it. That's where they were.
Red goblin tattoos on their shoulders, and instead of the dull daggers used in back-alley scraps, proper straight swords that only martial artists would carry.
Anyone could tell they were Fallen Ghosts Pavilion thugs.
"What do you want, kid? Wander in here and you're dead."
Killing intent.
The thugs glared at us with annoyed expressions. But just that gaze alone made Taeu's legs tremble as she bowed her head.
"Didn't you say you'd see it with your own eyes this time?"
"No, it's impossible. How are we supposed to beat guys like that? Let's run while we can."
I grabbed Taeu's chin and forced her head up.
"Watch closely. This isn't something you see every day."
Then I let go and slowly walked toward the Fallen Ghosts Pavilion thugs.
"Hey, I thought you looked familiar. It's that annoying-eyed brat from before."
Thud.
Four of them. Weapons still sheathed.
"Perfect timing. We were getting bored with no one to play with."
Thud.
One of them grabbed his weapon and stood, walking toward me.
Eight paces away. One step forward.
"Regretting coming for revenge over a little beating..."
Whoosh!
As soon as he closed to within a single pace, I dropped into a low stance and shot forward right to his face.
"Wha—"
I slammed my palm into his jaw, and his head snapped halfway around to the left as he crumpled.
The Fallen Ghosts Pavilion thugs who'd been snickering from behind didn't even have time to process before they scrambled for their weapons.
Third-rate rabble they might be, but they grasped the situation quickly enough for martial artists.
But I wasn't about to let the opportunity slip.
I snatched the sword from the guy with the spun jaw and hurled it at the first one who'd drawn his blade. It buried into his shoulder before he could even pull it free.
At the same time, I closed in on another who'd gripped his hilt, seized his arm to stop him from drawing, and drove my fist into his sternum.
"Guhk."
With that, three of them hit the dirt in the span of a breath—all except the one who'd finally drawn his sword.
"Y-You bastard. Who the hell are you?"
"Me?"
But third-rate was still third-rate, sword or no.
"What does it matter if you know?"
His trembling hand swung the blade, but the spacing was too tight for a sword strike, and the motion too wide for such close quarters.
I lightly smashed his right side before the edge even grazed my collar.
"Keurk."
Then, as he dropped to his knees, one shot to the jaw.
Crack!
Hoo, at this level, I didn't even need internal energy.
"It's over? Already?"
Taeu, watching from a safe distance, gaped in shock.
No wonder—she'd been convinced we had no chance, and I'd dispatched them in an instant.
"Sowol! Behind you!!"
Suddenly, Taeu's face drained of color as she pointed behind me and screamed.
Turning too late, I couldn't dodge the flying kick. It slammed dead into my gut, shock rippling through my whole body.
"Guh."
That was close.
If I hadn't surged my internal energy in that instant, one of my organs would've burst.
"Who the hell are you, barging in here starting trouble?"
Lifting my head, I saw a burly, muscled man emerging from the dark building.
So the four outside had been posted as lookouts on his orders.
Hah, my fault for letting my guard down against third-rate trash.
"You look pretty young. Who sent you? You from the Lower Five Gates too?"
"Why is everyone so nosy about other people's lives? Can't you tell I'm a beggar just by looking?"
"I don't care who you are. You're not dying easy."
"'Don't know who I am'? Damn it, I told you I'm a beggar—why can't you get it through your thick skull?"
That's when I spotted a hazy shape inside the dark building the brute had come from.
More Fallen Ghosts Pavilion guys? Focusing my senses, I saw women huddled inside, curled up tight.
Wearing tattered clothes covered in bruises—they'd kidnapped and imprisoned slum girls, by the looks of it.
Ah.
Blood rushed to my head.
I didn't like this one bit.
"Hey, you. Let's just die nice and clean."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
I despise martial artists as a breed.
The righteous sects leech off the weak under the guise of protecting them, the unorthodox covet the weak's possessions, and the Demonic Cult believes the weak deserve death.
In the end, martial artists only know how to harm others—they're parasites who can't survive the world on their own merits.
And among those parasites, the ones who steal from others are especially worthless garbage not even fit for recycling.
Especially those who prey on defenseless women and children—I killed every one I saw on the spot.
Like this bastard.
I advanced on him slowly.
Unlike his looks, he wasn't a total idiot; he calmly swung from outside sword range. But the trajectory was obvious.
No subtlety, no principle—just a blatantly predictable attack I could've dodged with my eyes closed.
I smacked the blade away with the back of my hand infused with energy, snapped his sword wrist, then hyperextended his elbow.
"Gaaak!"
Then I stomped his right leg, shattering his shin in two, twisted his left knee backward, and grabbed his hair as he fell.
"Feel good picking on guys weaker than you?"
Crack!
The cheerful snap of his nasal bone echoed.
"Aaaagh! Wait, sorry! Spare me, please. I give up—"
Snap!
"Hngh!!"
His teeth crunching into his gums rang out.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Squish. Squish. Squish.
I don't know how many blows it took, but when blood started oozing from his pulverized skull scraping against my knuckles, I finally snapped out of it.
The corpse in front of me was so mangled even its facial features were unrecognizable.
"Haa..."
Even regressing to the past couldn't erase my killer instinct, it seemed.
I'd never learned arts that amplified bloodlust, nor fallen into qi deviation from it, so changing bodies wouldn't dilute it either.
I turned to look at Taeu.
The kid who'd gazed at me with shining eyes was now trembling, staring at me with the same terrified look she'd given the Fallen Ghosts Pavilion thugs.
Still keeping her distance outside the fray, her face full of fear as she beheld the martial world.
"Taeu."
"Uh, uh..."
She could barely speak.
It was too much for a kid who couldn't be more than sixteen, showing her such a gruesome scene.
But anyone living in Xining would face this eventually.
Once the Demonic Cult invaded and turned all of Qinghai into a wasteland, she'd see mangled human corpses over breakfast.
"See that guy?"
I pointed at one of the Fallen Ghosts Pavilion thugs, unconscious on the ground with a sword in his shoulder.
"Yeah? Of course I..."
"Kill him."
"What?"
Taeu looked utterly flustered.
"I-I can't. I can't do that..."
"If you don't, I'll kill him anyway. Stay back if you don't want to."
Today's events were already seared deep into her heart.
"These scum kidnapped helpless women. We can't let them live."
Better to get used to it now than spend a lifetime cowering in fear of death.
If she froze when facing a Demonic Cultist drawing a sword, she wouldn't survive in Xining.
Taeu bit her lip hard, clenching her fists until blood trickled from her gripped hands.
This was her crossroads.
Step into the brutal martial world, or spend her life on the sidelines seeking safety.
A martial artist's true talent wasn't wielding techniques well or growing internal energy fast—it was how well they could kill.
"You choose."
At those words, light returned to her eyes.
Just like when she'd vowed to see the world with her own eyes.
And finally, she gripped the sword embedded in the Fallen Ghosts Pavilion thug's shoulder and swung it down.
With the arc of that blade came a spray of irremovable blood across the ground.