04

I knew all the crimes my master had committed over the years. He was a villain of the highest order, deserving of being reported to the authorities for labor law violations and child abuse. I knew what he had done in the past and could guess what he would do in the future. Why did I become his disciple? I deeply regret it now. It was on a day when I, Bi Ryu-yeon became 12 years old…

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Having lived with my master for about six months, I spent every day chopping wood and doing laundry. During that time, I suffered tremendously, trapped in a prison called "hellish muscle pain," but after six months of diligently practicing the two secret techniques, the Lightning Spirit Cultivation Method and the Soul Threading Skill, I finally managed to escape this prison. That was six months after I began practicing the secret techniques. 

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One day, having barely escaped the agony of hellish muscle pain, my master nonchalantly dropped a horrific statement, "You're just now ready to learn the basics." Naturally, I wanted to ask, "Then what have I been doing all this time?" but I held back my anger and politely inquired, "What have I been doing up until now, Master?"

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His response was, "What? Those were simply mundane household chores. Why even ask something so obvious? You are quite amusing." His face bore an expression of disdain for my supposedly unnecessary question. I felt indescribable futility and despair. As I was listlessly lost in thought, my master introduced me to the next lesson: the basic skill of the Flying Lightning School, knife-throwing. What power could a poor and weak young boy like me, the tragic protagonist, possibly have? I had no choice but to learn whatever the cruel master taught.

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The first step in knife-throwing was, of course, hitting a stationary target. Here, the Soul Threading Skill proved to be immensely effective, focusing all my concentration on the flying knife, leading to perfect accuracy. It took me an additional three months and ten days to consistently hit pine cones hanging from pine trees five jang (approximately 15 meters) away. However, merely achieving perfect accuracy wasn't enough. Most skilled martial artists could easily dodge or deflect incoming flying knives or hidden weapons. Supreme experts could catch them barehanded or even block them with their body's protective energy. Therefore, accuracy alone was insufficient.

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What was truly essential was the speed, akin to invisible light. Despite gaining considerable strength in my hands from six months of chopping wood and doing laundry, plus three months of training, it was still far from sufficient, especially considering I was only a ten-year-old child with limited physical strength. Moreover, the accuracy significantly decreased beyond a distance of five jang (approximately 15 meters). At a distance of ten jang (about 30 meters), the hit rate dropped to less than 30%. Out of ten throws, less than three would hit the target.

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Once my hit rate exceeded 50% at a distance of ten jang, my training advanced to the next stage: hitting moving targets. The second stage involved hitting pine cones tied to pine tree branches with a string, five jang away, swinging left and right. Honestly, this was excruciatingly difficult.

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"Swinging and swirling…"

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I kept missing every throw, uttering frustrated curses. It took four months to hit the swinging pine cones consistently, achieving perfect accuracy. However, hitting pine cones and moving five jang away wasn't the end. The distance to the targets increased progressively, and the size of the moving objects decreased. It was maddening.

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The objects I threw also changed. It wasn't just throwing flying knives anymore. I trained by throwing bird feathers to hit targets. Throwing feathers involved not only using qi but also reading the air currents. Feathers, being very light, faced significant air resistance and didn't travel fast when thrown, obviously lacking in power.

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The key was to channel true qi into the feathers. It was far from easy. Understanding the flow of air was crucial. Without sufficient internal energy or the skill to manage it properly, it was impossible to master feather throwing. I had to be able to throw feathers and hit targets even in strong winds to complete this basic training.

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Alongside knife-throwing, I also learned a movement technique called the Dance of the Phoenix. This involved methods of moving the body, including light body techniques and stepping methods. Many confuse body techniques with stepping methods, but they are distinctly different.

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Body techniques, specifically the light body technique, essentially involve running fast and covering long distances without needing to rest. However, stepping methods differ from body techniques. They are used during confrontations with opponents or while employing martial arts, facilitating quick and agile movements to approach an opponent's blind spot or to dodge attacks. Many mistakenly believe that stepping methods are merely about the movement of the feet, but since the body follows where the feet go, it actually involves the movement of the entire body.

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These were the reasons my master emphasized the need to diligently practice the Dance of the Phoenix. However, every time my master taught me something new, instead of feeling grateful, I found myself worrying about what lay ahead. 'What is he planning to make me do this time?' I thought. It seemed as if my malicious master was slowly molding me into a form that best suited his exploitative needs. Unfortunately, my apprehension turned out to be accurate.

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My unease took on a form, gradually shaping into a fierce beast with sharp fangs and claws, ready to pounce on me. My fears had become a reality.

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As I reached a certain level in the Dance of the Phoenix and knife-throwing, my master suggested an outdoor lesson. Outdoor lesson? That made me nervous. My ever-so-gracious master had never done anything that was in my best interest.

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The location for this outdoor class was the mountain directly behind the hut where my master and I lived. The hut itself was located in a fairly remote and deep part of the mountains, but this particular mountain was even higher and more rugged. My master took me there and thus began our outdoor class. Infuriatingly, the true nature of this class was foraging and hunting.

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What was the primary purpose of this sudden outdoor lesson? It was, quite simply, to save on food expenses, particularly on side dishes. Since we couldn't grow rice, saving on rice was impossible, so naturally, the goal was to cut down on the cost of side dishes. The pretense of enhancing my light body skills and improving my knife-throwing abilities through this outdoor class was nothing but a facade.

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Meat was expensive but desired, so my master, under the guise of training, had me hunt for it. "Nothing beats meat for a drink snack!" he would say, licking his lips in anticipation of his scheme, which I was fully aware of. Moreover, foraging for vegetables and herbs was also part of his plan, supposedly to enhance my light body skills and aid my training, but I knew it was as ridiculous as a dog barking at the water after being splashed for peeing.

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My master explained to me the types of edible herbs and valuable medicinal herbs, showing me each one in person. And as an added 'lesson,' he taught me how to season vegetables with salt.

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Hunting was a strenuous effort to obtain meat. When I first started hunting, I was advised to start with smaller animals. Going after big game like wild boars from the start would likely end in death. So, as a beginner, I was trained to target smaller prey like rabbits or birds. As my skills gradually improved, my master instructed me to hunt bigger and more ferocious animals.

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He emphasized using only throwing knives for hunting. Traps, snares, or bows were strictly prohibited, as they didn't aid in training. I found it quite absurd. Additionally, I was told to hunt and forage only from dawn till morning. The reason for this was unclear to me…

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My questions about this routine were soon answered, and not in a good way.

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***

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What is the Steel Evolution Smithy?

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It had been over a year and a half since I started living with my master. That day, like any other, involved cooking, laundry, chopping wood, and, of course, training. I had become accustomed to all these tasks in our mountain hut. I could now do laundry without turning the clothes into rags, wielding a 50 geun (approx. 30 kg) iron washstick, and I could chop wood with a 100 geun (approx. 60 kg) iron axe as if it were a mere stick.

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That day, my master took me down to the village at the foot of the mountain. I hadn't had a chance to visit the village due to the endless domestic chores and excruciating muscle aches. The village was quite prosperous, and my master entered its largest blacksmith shop. He then went into a room with the owner, where they seemed to be discussing something seriously. After some time, my master's loud voice could be heard from inside, indicating that things weren't going as planned.

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"Why can't it be done?" my master's voice sounded increasingly agitated.

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"He's just a kid who hasn't even lost his baby fuzz yet. That's obvious."

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"Nonsense, the boy is already 15 years old. He's practically an adult now. Plus, his strength is several times that of an ordinary adult. You know this yourself, don't you?"

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'What? I'm only 12 years old… Did Master get my age wrong? That can't be.'

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I overheard my master arguing and inflating my age by three years. Why was he so angry about something?

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"Regardless, two silver pieces is too low! I demand three silver pieces with a special bonus. Considering the boy's capabilities, it's only fair."

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"Isn't that a bit too expensive? How about two silver pieces with a special bonus?"

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"No, it won't do. This kid is no ordinary child! He handles a 50-kun iron rod as if it's a toy. He can easily do the work of three or four grown men."

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'That must be about the laundry stick!'

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The seemingly endless bargaining continued inside the room. For me, still a child, the conversation was difficult to comprehend. My master's booming voice echoed again. Loud voices often belonged to unreasonable people.

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"Are you blind?"

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"Of course not. Why do you ask if you know the answer?"

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"Then why act like a blind man? Anyone would think your eyes are just for decoration. Can't you see this vibrant and vigorous young body?"

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A long silence followed inside the room, indicating the owner was in deep contemplation. Finally,

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"Alright, I admit defeat. I accept your terms. Three silver pieces with a special bonus it is."

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"Good, I'll hand the boy over to you then. Take good care of him."

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The conversation inside sounded like something from a human trafficking ring.

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'Is he planning to sell me to the blacksmith?' 

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'Is the blacksmith some kind of pervert who enjoys young boys?'

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In that instant, a peculiar flash crossed my mind, followed by a chilling unease. However, upon rational consideration, I thought it was a situation that could very well arise given my master's character.

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'No way, it can't be, it's impossible. The price is too low. There's no way a pretty boy like me would be sold for such a small amount of money. Maybe for one night, but…?'

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As these thoughts swirled in my head, I felt as if icy chunks were dancing up my spine. My back tingled with cold. I felt a chill. An unknown fear began to take over me. An eerie coldness crept up, and I unknowingly wrapped my arms around my shoulders. While I was lost in these thoughts, the door opened, and Master and owner came out. Then Master said to me,

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"Ryu Yeon, from today, you will work in this forge. Work hard."

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I doubted my ears at that moment. Half of my prediction that my master would sell me off had come true. Although I wasn't sold to a perverted old man－the old man looked enough to be misunderstood as such－instead, I was sold to work in the worst labor conditions. A forge is a representative of the 'Three Job' profession, which people avoid. 'Three Job' refers to the three hardships of a job: dirty, tough, and dangerous. Even adults avoid such jobs. I couldn't possibly work in such a place. My thoughts quickly turned into actions.

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"Master, how could you do this to me! I will never ever work in such a place… Ugh!"

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Suddenly, Master covered my mouth with his hand, as large as a smelly pot lid, and then said to the owner,

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"Ah, just a moment, I will have a talk with this lad. Shall we go, my disciple?"

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Then, Master dragged me to the shady back of the building.

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"No, my boy! What do you mean you can't do it? This is all a trial that your master has devised after pondering day and night for three days, to challenge you. How can you learn martial arts and become a peerless master if you can't even overcome such trials? This is all part of your training. Everything here is meant to aid your martial arts practice. Stop complaining and work hard. It will all contribute to your growth."

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I was utterly speechless. The fact that I hadn't succumbed to madness and died was a stroke of sheer luck, a blessing from heaven, and divine care. A trial, he says? Master seemed to be under the huge misconception that using the word 'trial' excuses everything. And how does this help with martial arts training? I had no idea.

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"How exactly does this help with martial arts training? I can't even guess. It's absurd to try to guess something that doesn't exist."

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I asked sharply, using words as my weapon, but Master wasn't the least bit flustered and happily answered my question.

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"Of course, working hard with the hammer will strengthen your arms, and your grip strength will also increase. Plus, your palms will become tougher. And in the process of dealing with fire and iron, you'll learn patience. Isn't that enough?"

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It was a typical moment of Master's 'everything is training' sophistry, but this time, I was prepared with a strong counterargument.

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"But such rough and rugged work like hammering will make the hands coarse and dull the sense of touch, won't it? Didn't you, master, say that our sect's secret technique, 'Flying Lightning Knife', requires delicate hand sensitivity? Won't this kind of work actually hinder our practice? Surely you're not going to contradict what you've previously said so callously?"

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I smiled triumphantly and looked at Master, as if to say, 'let's hear what you have to say now.' But then, suddenly, Master started laughing loudly.

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"Hahaha! Well done for thinking of that. But rest assured. Who do you think I am? Am I not the head of the Biroe-Moon*, possessing the greatest martial arts in the world? How could I not have prepared for such a thing? I have already devised a countermeasure. You just focus on your practice with peace of mind."

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Master's words pierced my heart like a spear of anxiety. In that moment, I felt it – another immense unease approaching me. If Master was preparing something, it was obvious. He was never the kind to do anything good. The way he seemed to effortlessly conjure up nothing but endlessly malicious schemes made it appear as though he was born with such a talent.

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"Um… a, a countermeasure? What is that?"

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My voice trembled with anxiety, stiff as if I had been struck by a paralysis. I felt a shiver run through my body, as if I were possessed.

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"You'll find out when you come home later. Now, go on and work hard."

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With those words, Master executed the 'Dance of the Pheonix – Emergency Flight' technique and dashed away like lightning. He was too fast for me to catch. This fight was my complete defeat. There's nothing a loser can say. All I could do was work here… A master selling his disciple as a laborer? Isn't that an absurd and unacceptable situation? And that too for a mere three silver coins. I had no choice but to curse my fate for having to endure such an ordeal.