Martial Arts Ain't Anything Special-Chapter 7: Seven Corpses

“Take off your shoes before coming in, you sons of bitches!”

The man at the forefront blinked at Seojun’s shout.

“Did this brat just say that to ME?”

“I think he did, boss!”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

The man scowled fiercely and slung a large pudao over his shoulder. It looked similar to the ones the two criminal friends had before.

“I’m Jang Chundeuk from the Black Tiger Sect, you little shits.”

I’m Jang Chunbong from between your mother’s legs—probably shouldn’t say that, huh?

Seojun, reading the room, frowned deeply.

“So what are you gonna do about our wall, asshole?”

“Those pudaos over there look like they belong to our men. Explain how you came in hold of them and I might let you live.”

“Hey, what about the damn wall you broke?!”

Jang Chundeuk clicked his tongue. He flicked his hand, and several burly men pushed their way into the house.

“Beat them till they’re an inch from death. They’ll talk on their own. Tear ‘em apart, boys.”

As the thugs rolled up their sleeves and approached, Seojun exchanged glances with Chunbong.

What should we do?

Obviously we should run!

You wanna take them on? Okay!

Of course, they couldn’t actually communicate through eye contact.

Seojun kicked up the sword he’d put down, caught it, and unsheathed it while spinning around, grazing past one of the men.

Thud— Roll—

As a head separated from its body and fell, the house went quiet. The occasional gurgling of blood spilling out provided a background noise.

“...Screw it. Just kill them!”

Jang Chundeuk, his face red with anger, raised his pudao and stomped forward. Seojun stood in front of Chundong, blocking her. She sighed.

“Haah... Yeah, I guess this is the way to go.”

“Right?”

“We probably wouldn’t have gotten out unscathed if these bastards dragged us away anyways.”

Chunbong gripped one of the pudaos leaning against the wall, backed up slightly, pressed against the wall, and whispered quietly.

“Fight for a bit and run when you see an opening. I can get away on my own.”

“Chunbong.”

“What?”

“Geum Chunbong, you silly little sister.”

Seojun raised his sword in a high stance. With the sword tip pointed towards the sky above his head, his eyes fixed on the approaching Jang Chundeuk.

“For one born with a dick, one mustn’t do something as cowardly as running away alone.”

Whoosh—!

He could see Jang Chundeok swinging his pudao in the same manner as before, the trajectory of the blade clearly visible, like it was being drawn in the air.

That was all he needed to see. He brought down the sky caught on his sword tip down to the earth.

The straight line drawn by his sword overlapped with Jang Chundeuk’s pudao.

Clang—!

“Ugh...!”

Sparks flew as Jang Chundeuk was pushed back. Soon, cracks appeared on the pudao, and the iron blade shattered into pieces.

“W-What...”

The surprised Jang Chundeuk hesitated. Momentum was key in a fight. Though he didn’t have much experience, he’d at least heard that much.

Seojun immediately stepped forward with his left foot and pivoted at the waist. His legs rooted firmly to the ground, channeling power upward through his core. His relaxed arm gripped the connected sword, and the smoothly advancing sword tip sliced through bone and flesh.

Slash—!

A person was cleaved in two, blood and entrails spilling onto the floor. Seojun’s lips curled into a smile.

“Oops, that’s too bad.”

Because of Jang Chundeuk’s quick retreat, one of his underlings died in his place.

Already two corpses. Rage eclipsed their confusion, and the men all charged at once.

Clang—! Clank—!

Metal clashed against metal. All Seojun knew was the Three Principles Sword Technique. Not knowing anything else, he desperately blocked and dodged.

Every time sword met blade, it felt like his arm would fall off. He couldn’t dodge all the blades coming from every direction, so his injuries kept increasing.

The smell of sweat and heat circulated in the small room, along with the scent of blood. Metal blades gleamed, each seeking to claim the other’s life.

“Ugh...!”

A blade sliced across his side. The pain of his flesh burning made him curl up.

If he stopped here, his head would fall off. Giving himself over to the surging adrenaline, he swung his sword like a madman.

Vertical slash, horizontal slash, thrust. Simplifying it further: slashing and thrusting.

Those two were the essence of swordsmanship from which countless techniques ultimately derived.

As he threw his body around with his hazy mind, swinging his sword, he gradually realized something with each strike.

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Slash—!

The sword cut across the opponent’s chest.

Crunch, crack—

The sensation of the sword tip scraping ribs, tearing through what might be tendons or blood vessels. His heart trembled at the exquisite duet.

“Mmm—”

Intoxicated by the strange yet addictive sensation, he shoved his sword into the screaming man’s mouth.

“Haah...”

His young body was rapidly complaining of fatigue. His arms trembled, and the wounds he couldn’t block stung like they were on fire.

Nevertheless, Seojun’s eyes moved ceaselessly.

A blade from above, a foot from the front, another blade from the right. He moved diagonally to the left while watching the blade from above.

And now. Just like when Chunbong deflected a blade with her palm, he pushed away the falling blade with his sword.

Slice—!

“Aagh...!”

The deflected blade cut his own comrade’s leg. That moment of shock created an opening. Seojun stomped forward with his foot and thrust the tip of his sword straight in.

Squelch—!

Droplets of blood glistened on the sword tip that pierced through the neck.

“Gurgle...”

He pulled his sword from the neck of the man foaming blood at the mouth, and quickly rolled on the ground to avoid the falling blades.

“You damned rat...!”

As Jang Chundeuk snatched a blade from one of his men and charged, Seojun took in the scene. Was I always this good at fighting? The fleeting question gave way to untimely joy, and he laughed loudly.

“Hahaha!”

Blood flowed. There was a pond on the floor streaming down from his body.

As steel met flesh and drove deep, the air grew thick and hot with blood spraying all around.

“Got...!”

He spared a glance at the sound. One of the men had circled around and approached Chunbong.

Thump—

Chunbong fought back with a palm strike, but her body was still weak. The man endured the blow and grabbed her.

Right in front of Seojun, Jang Chundeuk was bringing down his pudao.

“Got ‘em, boss!”

Ignoring the shout, Seojun slammed the flat of his blade against the pudao. In the same fluid motion, he spun around, fingers poised to flick, thumb pressed against his middle finger.

Pew—

The shot qi bullet pierced the man between his eyes, and as he started spewing blood, Chunbong crawled out from his arms.

“Hey...! Watch out...!”

The men suddenly surrounding him all thrust their blades at once. He made a quick judgment and swung his sword to widen the gap between two incoming blades, then threw his body through the gap between.

Clank—

The blades thrusting forth from the men collided in a tangle of steel. A stinging pain flared where a blade had grazed him, but exhilaration arose from the agony. In the same movement, he spun, sweeping his sword in a wide arc.

Slash—

Their waists were shallowly cut. He could see Jang Chundeuk, who had somehow retreated to the back.

Instinctively, he stuck close to the man beside him and drove his sword into the man’s stomach.

“Guh...!”

He moved his sword while it was still embedded, moving the impaled man with it as a shield.

Even with his view blocked, he remembered Jang Chundeuk’s position and used the Finger Bullet Technique.

Pew—

He couldn’t confirm with his own eyes whether it was successful or not.

“B-Boss...!”

But that panicked voice was enough. He pulled out his sword, certain of Jang Chundeuk’s death.

Splat—!

The man with his stomach torn open collapsed, his guts spilling out. He grabbed the falling man’s hair, then sliced his neck, raising the severed head high.

“Hahaha!”

He tossed the severed head towards the other men. Their expressions crumbled. As he walked forward with his sword, they took a step back.

“Waaah!”

When he shouted to scare them, they fled in a panic. Finding their behavior funny, he held his stomach and cackled.

“...Hey!”

His head was burning hot. The desire to cut more—to cut anything, consumed him. Should he chase after them and kill them all? It seemed like a good idea.

Smack!

Just as his feet were about to move, his vision shook.

“Snap out of it, you bastard!”

Chunbong’s face was right there, looking extremely pissed. What was her problem now?

“What the fuck, are you the Heaven-Slaying Star or something? Stop that shit, it’s fucking terrifying!”

“Why? It’s fun.”

At those words, Chunbong smacked her forehead.

“Oh my god. You’re really gonna get in big trouble if you keep this up.”

But Chunbong’s complexion didn’t look good. Her face was pale white, exactly the same color as before.

“Blood possesses a bewitching power. Fall under its spell, and you risk becoming a demonic practitioner. That’s why you have to always be careful.”

“Seems like you’re the one who needs to be careful first.”

“What are you tal- Bleurgh!”

Blood poured out of her mouth like a waterfall. Was he already getting used to this after seeing it the first time? Without panicking, he patted her back.

“Just do your qi circulation, dude.”

“You... Ugh...! Be care...ful.”

“I got it, so hurry up.”

After urging her a few times, she sat cross-legged and began circulating her qi.

She seems to end up like this every time she uses martial arts. Is there something wrong with her body? Seojun sighed as he looked worriedly at the top of her head.

“Ah geez, tsk.”

They say the best way to honor your parents is to stay healthy, yet here he was, his heart already aching because his little sister was worrying him sick.

“Oh wow...”

Was it because the tension had eased? His body started to ache as if it was falling apart.

Seojun sat down on the floor and counted the scattered corpses.

“One, two, three... seven. Damn, I killed quite a lot.”

The floor was in a horrible state. Blood, guts, corpses, and severed heads were rolling around.

Come to think of it, he had just won what was practically a 17 vs 1 fight. That day when his gut got sliced open by those criminal buddies suddenly felt like a distant memory.

I said it as a joke before, but do I actually have some talent?

He poked a head that was rolling with his scabbard, sending it farther away.

“Hmm.”

Nine people killed already since falling into this martial arts world. In my original world this would be headline news.

Am I strange for feeling nothing after killing so many people?

That’s probably true.

It is strange. But I’m not sure if I was like this in my original world, if I had gone crazy since coming here, or if there’s some other reason.

“Ah, whatever~”

Seojun flopped down on the floor. He would just wait till Chunbong got up before sleeping.

What should we do when she wakes up? Should we move? Were those all of the Black Tiger Sect guys? No, wait. Was it Black Tiger Sect or Black Tiger Clan?

As Seojun’s consciousness chased these chain of worries, he gradually sank into a deep sleep.