1142 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

There was once a time when I asked Paejon a question. "How many techniques are there?" Specifically, when it comes to Tuoapachenmu, how many techniques actually exist? "Technically, there are seven now, but... well." In response, Paejon always seemed to indicate that it wasn't a matter of much importance. "The number of techniques that exist isn't that important to me." "Then what is important?" Was it not important how many techniques or moves there were in martial arts? It was an answer that was difficult for me to comprehend. Especially for those who pursued martial arts, this was even more perplexing. However, Paejon calmly addressed my curiosity. "Perfection. And satisfaction." "Huh?" "If reducing the number of techniques increases their perfection, then that's the right approach. If adding more makes them better, then that's also correct. And if all that brings satisfaction, I consider it the completion of martial arts." It was truly a simple truth. Add more if necessary, erase if not needed. He said that crafting martial arts was a process of honing until it's perfect. "So, you're going to add more techniques?" "I must." "When are you planning to achieve mastery at this rate?" Tuoapachenmu's mastery is the dream of a lifetime, so, following this method, when does he plan to achieve it? When asked such a question, Paejon just laughed. "Haha, my pupil." "Yes?" "What do you think mastery is?" "What else could it be but having completely mastered martial arts?" Learning and embodying all the techniques created, fully integrating them into one's body — isn't that what they call mastery? That was what I understood mastery to be, at least in martial arts circles. "Really? That's one way to look at it." Paejon's reaction suggested he thought otherwise. "Why? What do you consider mastery, Elder?" I asked, curious to know his thoughts. "Well." Paejon didn't answer. He simply said, "At least, it's different from what you think." "......" He just shook his head, as if he was certain his perspective differed from mine. "Anyway, techniques can always be changed or added. If I want to, I can do just that." He wasn't wrong. Since Paejon was the founder of Tuoapachenmu, it was crucial to craft it according to his vision. The problem was— "......Then when am I supposed to master all this?" Making and erasing, then making again. How could I be expected to master it all under such circumstances? He took me as his disciple because he couldn’t complete this mastery himself, expecting me to do so. When would I ever reach his goal at this rate? I pointed this out to him. "Haha." Paejon laughed. "If you keep at it, you'll eventually get there." "......" Darned old man. Why are all the elders around me lacking in conventional wisdom? These questions plagued my mind. "At least I'm not planning to erase anything before the sixth form, so be relieved." "......You won't erase it?" "Yeah. It's finally reached a level that I'm somewhat satisfied with... In particular." Tap, tap. Paejon lightly tapped my shoulder with his fist. "I don't need to change the sixth form. That's because it's my greatest masterpiece." "......" It was probably for the first time. I heard Paejon mention the sixth form. Greatest masterpiece. A flawless technique that needs no change. From Paejon, who was almost a perfectionist to the point of madness, these were not words I expected to hear. What was the sixth form, really? What was it that made Paejon react this way? I couldn't understand. Even before I had the chance to learn it, an accident happened. I had completely forgotten about this conversation. "...Ha." Now, in this moment, I understand. "Unbelievable." The sixth form. It was a single strike. A simple and light name, yet all I could do was look at the utterly demolished surroundings without a word. The landscape had changed. The once lush grassy area had transformed into a desolate wasteland, as if struck by a calamity. The lingering energy still retained a scent reminiscent of burning. "Judging by your reaction, you really haven't seen it before, huh." "…Seems like it." "Hmm. Why's that?" Paejon seemed puzzled by his own lack of understanding. "You should have mastered it long ago. Why exactly didn’t I teach it back then...?" It was simply because I was busy. Yet Paejon seemed to be searching for a deeper reason. "Is there some specific reason?" "...No. I was genuinely busy." "Really?" "Yes." "Well, that works out." "What does...?" "This is a good chance for you to learn it." "…Pardon?" He's suggesting I learn the sixth form now, in this situation? "Why? Is there a problem?" "There is. Why now, of all times...?" "Why even ask? If you haven't learned it, you should learn it from me, shouldn't you?" "……" The Paejon here and the Paejon from my place are different. Yet, it seemed Paejon here only thought of it as a matter of turning back time. '...Do I really have to learn martial arts from him, even here?' Learning the sixth form was fine. I was mesmerized for a moment by the power released through his fist. The pinnacle of martial arts. Elder Shin had once told me as he looked at Paejon, he might be the one most suited to the name of a martial artist. The very end of martial prowess—someone who reaches the ultimate potential a human body can achieve. That was the Paejon I knew. His teachings were something I indeed needed. "No, not now." I declined. At least, not at this moment. "Why?" "…There's something I need to do. I also have a place I need to go right now." "Going off again? Where to?" "Shanxi." "…Hm?" Shanxi. At the mention of it, Paejon tilted his head in slight confusion. "Shanxi?" "Yes. I have business to attend to there." "Hmm." Paejon pondered my words for a moment before addressing me again. "You have a plan?" "…To some extent, yes?" I had already asked my father for assistance. I had other methods as well. Most were violent and largely illegal, though. "Is that so?" Hearing my answer, Paejon laughed. "I see. Well, if that's the issue, you’d best be on your way." Did he truly understand? Based on his reaction, it seemed like he did. "Alright, proceed as planned. Off you go." "…Excuse me?" Paejon nodded as if he had an idea and then moved. After taking a few steps, he turned back to look at me. "What are you doing? You’d better hurry back. Don’t be late." "……." And with a whoosh! Paejon launched himself back in the direction he originally came from. "Hmm..." Watching his back, I followed suit by jumping after him. Was it really settled? Paejon’s acquiescence came so easily that I was taken aback. Yet, I felt perhaps it was something I could push past for now. However— 'Why does this feel so off?' The unsettling feeling in my chest wouldn't fade. As always, my forebodings were never wrong. * * * Upon returning to the main base, Paejon was nowhere to be seen, as if he had already arrived and vanished. My comrades weren’t in sight when I reached the usual spot, so I naturally made my way back to Cheongryongdae. "Oh, you’re back." "Youngest, how was your first mission? Manageable?" As I returned to Cheongryongdae, the senior members greeted me with sly grins, apparently all too eager to tease me after my extended mission. "Yes, it went well enough." "Well enough? Long assignments can be really tough. You must've struggled." "Or maybe not, considering you spent time at the Namgung clan. Maybe it wasn't too bad?" "That’s true." "……." Their words were irritating. Surely, they knew about the Baek-level demon incident at the Namgung clan. Why were they provoking me knowing all this? I couldn't understand, so I just watched them silently. "Right, don’t get conceited after just one mission. This is advice from a senior, so you’d better listen." I nodded at their follow-up, finally understanding. 'These guys.' They didn’t take well to a newbie handling big matters and seemed keen on asserting their dominance through intimidation. Realizing that, I laughed along. "Sure. I have no intention of getting ahead of myself. It wasn’t anything to brag about. Who here hasn't tackled a mission of that caliber before? Especially..." I stared at the one who’d been needling me. "None of you would have the audacity to act above their station without even experiencing it yourself." "What...?" "This punk, what did you just say…!" Sensing the intent behind my words, they growled. "Thinking you’re something just because we humor you—!" Crack. "Ugh!?" The guy's head snapped back as my fist connected with his face. He collapsed, blood dripping from his nose, and teeth clattering to the ground. "Oh... what...?" Watching the startled guy, I grabbed the back of his head and drove my knee into him. Crunch—!! "Urk!" He went unconscious, collapsing in a heap. Turning my gaze to the other who had been mocking me, I spoke. "Got something to say?" "……." "Go ahead, say it." Suddenly lightening my grip, the guy slumped down like a rag doll. "And do keep in mind you’ll be responsible for what you say." "……." Did I plan to let things slide based on the situation? Absolutely not. "You... right now..." He seemed unable to fathom that I’d actually hit a senior. "How do you plan to deal with the consequences of this?" "What consequences? You pissed me off, so I hit you." "This brat...! I’m going straight to our leader to report this." Just as he turned to run to the commander’s office, gritting his teeth— Bang—!! "Ugh!?" A tremendous fist struck him at the crown of his head, dropping him instantly. And it wasn’t my fist. It was nearly twice the size of mine. "Tsk tsk. Does a man have nothing better to do than babble nonsense?" The one who knocked the squad member out and clicked his tongue was none other than Guryun. "Ah, it’s good to see you, lad." He grinned at me, pulling something from his robes as he spoke. For the record, it was a yakgwa — a traditional Korean sweet. "If you’re alright with it, would you mind chatting with this old man for a bit? I’ve even got some yakgwa here." "……." His words carried an oddly unsettling tone.