Martial Arts Ain't That Big of a Deal - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Martial World

[Translation By Divinity]

An unfamiliar alleyway.

“Ugh…”

‘Did I drink yesterday? No… What is this?’

I blinked my eyes blankly. The sky was needlessly blue.

“…What’s this smell?”

The pungent odor made me sit up. As I looked around to find the source of the smell, I soon realized.

“Ah, shit.”

‘This smell is coming from me? Did I drink so much yesterday that I can’t even remember?’

Suddenly feeling anxious, I started to recall my memories.

Name, Lee Seojun. Age, twenty-four.

‘What day was yesterday?’ I thought hard and realized.

‘Since when did I start memorizing dates?’

I gave up early and got up. My body felt unexpectedly light. It was definitely not the condition of someone who drank yesterday.

“What the…”

‘Now that I look, my clothes are strange. Did I have these fluttering clothes at home? They’re so dirty that no one would wear them even if they were given for free.’

Slowly, I began to realize that something was wrong. It was more like finally accepting a fact that I had been gradually realizing.

“Really…?”

Seojun walked blankly towards the corner of the alley in front of him. ‘First, I need to grasp the situation. Whether I fell into a novel or another world, I need to know what’s going on.’

As I turned the corner, I heard strange voices.

“Ah, that bitch is feisty.”

“Stay still before I put a hole in your belly!”

“Kyaaaak…!”

I turned my stiff neck. ‘Damn it, a crime scene unfolded right before my eyes.’

The even more unfortunate fact was that I made eye contact with the criminals.

“What? Get lost, kid.”

“Ah, yes.”

I quickly bowed my head and stepped back. The criminals seemed to have mercifully decided to let an innocent civilian go instead of extorting money from them.

Seojun, walking away from the corner with quick steps, clutched his pounding chest.

‘What the fuck? They’re carrying around swords that big?’

The sword was bigger than a person’s forearm.

Moreover, the clothes the criminals were wearing were clearly not from the modern era but from a much earlier generation.

‘They were the kind of clothes that thugs in martial arts novels would wear.’

If he hadn’t been kidnapped and woken up on a historical drama set, the current situation was clear.

He had fallen somewhere, whether into a novel or another world. And from the looks of it, the setting was martial arts. He tried to recall the novels he had read, just in case, but he had read over a hundred martial arts novels, so he couldn’t pinpoint it.

‘No, wait. Was this just a crazy dream?’ As he was racking his brain, a scream pierced his ears.

– Kyaaaak-! Help me! Please!

Seojun, who was walking away from the corner, stopped. The piercing scream grabbed his feet and wouldn’t let go.

“Fucking hell.”

How could he possibly fight guys with swords? It was madness. Throw away his life to save someone he didn’t even know?

Yes, it was madness. This was madness, but…

“Haah… Fuck!”

He straightened his shoulders and shouted. His body had somehow moved, and he was standing at the corner, so naturally, he made eye contact with the criminals again.

‘Yeah, this is what the hero Himmel would do. What a fucked up dream.’

“This kid. Comes back on his own even after we let him go.”

“Maybe he’s got a screw loose?”

The two men chuckled. Meanwhile, the woman, her clothes half torn off, crawled towards Seojun and grabbed his pant leg as if clutching at straws.

“Y-Young warrior…! Please, save me… Agh!”

Pak-!

The woman, hit in the face by Seojun’s knee, fainted. The men looked at Seojun, dumbfounded.

“Seriously, what the hell are you doing?”

“Listen, guys, you can’t trust women. You save them, and they’ll put a knife in your back.”

‘To be precise, getting stabbed in the back while fighting is a real problem. There’s no guarantee this woman isn’t in cahoots with these guys, right?’

He felt a bit sorry, but apologizing after saving her would be a win-win situation.

“Huh, this guy’s just a complete lunatic, isn’t he?”

The man holding the forearm-sized sword strode towards him. Seojun, struggling to control his rapid breathing, took a stance.

Naturally, he didn’t know any martial arts; it was merely a boxing stance he’d seen somewhere.

“I’ve seen all sorts of weirdos.”

The man swung his sword. He could see it. The descending blade was about to cleave his body in two.

The whole scene seemed to unfold in slow motion, so he moved his body, feeling strangely amazed at himself.

Slash!

“Huh…?”

But his body didn’t move as fast as he thought. His stomach was ripped open, and his intestines spilled out.

“Uh, uhh…”

‘Should I be grateful that my body, which should have been cut in two, was still attached?’

His face slammed into the approaching ground, and the burning pain caused his body to convulse.

“Kkeueueu…”

‘It fucking hurts.’ That simple thought filled his head.

‘It must be a dream. It has to be a dream.’

His consciousness, wandering aimlessly, faded away.

☆

“…What a fucked up dream.”

An unfamiliar ceiling. Was it all a dream after all? Of course, suddenly falling into the Murim world was absurd.

He chuckled and tried to sit up.

“Kkeueueuk…!!”

It really fucking hurts. The pain of his stomach tearing open made him roll on the floor like crazy.

“Haah… What a fool.”

“Ugh… W-What?”

“Stop being stubborn and lie down. If your wound opens up, you’ll really die this time.”

As I lifted my flickering gaze through the pain, I saw a small figure. A kid, who looked about twelve or thirteen years old, was looking down at me.

“Haah… Haah… I thought I was going to die…”

I roughly wiped the drool off on my face and scanned the kid with my eyes.

“…Kid, who are you?”

“What? You’re not even grateful.”

The kid poked me lightly with his toe.

“Ugh…!”

Seojun writhed in pain. Even though he didn’t directly touch the wound, the pain made his head feel blank.

“This…!”

“What, what!”

“Agh…”

I struggled to sit up. Through the hole in the ceiling, I saw the pitch-black night sky.

‘The sky?’

Only then did I look around and realize it was a dilapidated house. Lying in a building that looked like it would collapse with a single touch sent shivers down my spine.

“…Where are we?”

“My house.”

“Where’s your house?”

“Near where you collapsed.”

The kid clicked his tongue.

“Think logically. How far could I have carried you? Even getting here was a pain in the ass because you were so heavy.”

“…Now that you mention it, that makes sense. But you must be pretty strong, huh? It wouldn’t be easy for a kid to drag a grown man.”

“What? Pfft!”

The kid giggled and then burst into laughter.

“A grown man? Does your dick even have hair yet? You don’t look that much older than me.”

“What? Seriously… Are you already suffering from premature aging?”

Seojun absentmindedly examined his body. Of course, he didn’t check if his privates had hair; he just glanced down at his hand to see what the kid was talking about.

“What the…”

It’s small. And short.

It wasn’t entirely a child’s hand, but there was definitely a size difference compared to the hands he had seen since becoming an adult.

“This is ridiculous. What am I, Conan?”

His body might have become younger, but his brain remained the same! This was a real mess.

“Fuck, I don’t get it.”

‘Life. Well, it’ll work out somehow.’

☆

It didn’t work out somehow.

About ten days later, Seojun stretched his stiff body. The wound hadn’t completely healed, but it had recovered enough to be considered almost healed. It was an abnormally fast recovery.

“Maybe I heal faster because I’m younger.”

Chunbong replied to his mumbling.

“You’re saying that again? Aren’t you tired of it?”

“No, I’m serious. I really got younger.”

“That’s some dedicated bullshit.”

“Shut up, Chunbong.”

“….”

“How can someone’s name be Chunbong*”’ He looked at the kid, who was technically his lifesaver, and the kid blushed.

[TL/N: The name ‘춘봉’ (Chunbong) in Korean literally means ‘Spring Peak’. While it’s an acceptable name, it might sound somewhat old-fashioned or rustic to modern Korean ears. Similar to how an English speaker might react to an old-fashioned name like ‘Ebenezer’ or ‘Gertrude.’ The kid’s blushing reaction suggests he might be a bit self-conscious about his name.]

“…I should have just left you there.”

Chunbong sighed and grumbled.

“Anyway, stop messing around and lie down quietly. That wasn’t a wound that would heal in ten days.”

“It’s almost healed.”

“Yeah, it’s strange.”

Leaving Chunbong, who was staring intently at his body, behind, Seojun fell into thought.

‘I’m the one who finds it strange.’

After talking with Chunbong for ten days, he was certain. This wasn’t a dream. It was a stark reality, and it was the Murim world.

‘But it’s still weird.’

It happened three days ago. He was bored and poking Chunbong’s side with his toe when Chunbong shouted.

“Stop it! It’s almost twelve o’clock! Let me sleep!”

‘This wasn’t some Mount Hua Sect fireball nonsense. Twelve o’clock? Is he crazy? Any sensible person writing a martial arts novel wouldn’t use the expression “twelve o’clock” instead of “the hour of the Rat (子時).’

‘I don’t remember reading such a martial arts novel…’

Then was he not in a novel? Did he just fall into some strange, fake Murim world?

“Hey, Lee Seojun.”

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? If you’re awake, it’s time to earn your keep.”

Chunbong beckoned with his finger from the half-collapsed doorway.

“Follow me. I’ll teach you, uh… how to survive in the back alleys.”

“But are you really a boy?”

“…You little…”

Chunbong quickly stepped back and covered himself. ‘It was a misunderstanding. That kind of misunderstanding was really troublesome.’

“I’m not going to grab your ass!”

“Suspicious.”

“Whatever, let’s go. Let’s see how well you can beg.”

☆

“Speaking of which, wasn’t there anything else where I collapsed?”

Seojun asked while blowing on the steaming dumplings.

“Nothing.”

“Really? That’s unsettling.”

He wondered what happened to that woman. He offered a small prayer for her and took another bite of the dumpling.

“Seriously, don’t you have any meat dumplings?”

“…You’re already stuffed.”

“These taste like shit.”

They were called dumplings, but there was nothing inside. Just lumps of flour.

“Ha! If you’re going to complain, you steal them next time. I’ll take the blame.”

“Should I?”

“What do you mean ‘should I’? Just shut up and eat!”

He got hit. The kid had a strong hand for his age. ‘Was this the hand strength of a Murim native?’

“Ah, I wish some martial arts would just fall from the sky. I really need to beat up those guys if I see them again.”

As he grumbled and shoved the remaining dumplings into his mouth, Chunbong stared at his face.

“Wha, whut.”

“Want me to teach you martial arts?”

“Keheuk…!”

Cough, cough! He spat out the dumpling stuck in his throat. He looked at Chunbong, who was staring at it with a regretful look, grabbed his cheeks, and asked,

“Really!?”

“It’s nothing special. Just the Three Forms Sword Technique.”

It didn’t matter how a back alley kid knew martial arts. What mattered now was timing.

“Thank you, Master!”

“Cut the crap.”