Chapter 12 The Beggar Sect (2) - Martial Arts Masochist

Raindrops relentlessly poured down from the sky. Cheongwol sat alone in one corner of the meditation hall of the second-generation disciples, continuing her training. While she could have practiced her swordsmanship in the rain, her master, So-un, did not approve of it. The teachings of the Emei Sect stated that allowing one's garments to cling and reveal one's figure due to rain was considered vulgar. In the past, those words seemed quite outdated to her, but after Han Seojin's incident in the basement, Cheongwol began to understand them a bit more. In any case, it was because of this that Cheongwol, on rainy days, chose to refine her qi instead of wielding a sword, following her master's teachings. Thus, within the meditation hall, she quietly regulated her breathing, gathering energy into her danjeon—an exercise known as breathing cultivation. However, as always, Cheongwol rarely achieved deep concentration. ‘…’ As she continued her training, Cheongwol's eyes faintly opened. ‘…feels lonely, what with the atmosphere and all. Who’d want to get close to her…’ ‘…acting like that, it’s just for show. No one actually believes it…’ ‘…her skills are acknowledged, sure, but as a person…’ Perhaps because of her focus on energy, even the slightest whispers from a distant corner were clearly audible. It was her fellow disciples—those who were supposed to be her peers, the ones who harbored jealousy towards her. The primary reason Cheongwol couldn't dive deep into her meditation was because of them. She wasn’t the only one who sought shelter under the eaves when it rained. As more people gathered, space became limited, and naturally, they came face to face. Whenever Cheongwol practiced meditation among them, this kind of situation always arose. External stimuli during the practice of breathing cultivation could be dangerous. If someone disrupted her qi flow mid-harmonization, it could lead to a chaotic qi state, and at worst, entrap her in a mental demonic barrier. While it was doubtful that her fellow disciples would intentionally do such a thing… Cheongwol did not trust them, nor had any intention to do so. For someone like Cheongwol, who didn’t want to engage in risky games, she ensured her safety to the utmost when untrustworthy fellow disciples were around. Thus, she always stopped at a certain level of concentration. Instead of truly immersing herself, she merely regulated her breathing in a state akin to light sleep. ‘…sigh.’ Today, it was particularly severe. With her focus shattered, Cheongwol soon closed her eyes. It was pointless to attempt re-immersion. Pretending to meditate was the better choice. Their voices continuously reverberated around her. ‘On a day like today, is there any need to go through those motions?’ ‘I know, right? While everyone else is resting, what's she doing making herself so conspicuous…’ ‘Because of her actions, Master keeps comparing us to her… living like a lone wolf indeed…’ Cheongwol was already clenching her teeth. She understood very well. What they desired was not genuine critique but baseless scorn. Should she argue with them? Cheongwol could certainly triumph over them. Silencing them with logic would be as easy as pie. However... such an argument would be futile. Because, in the end, it was a losing battle. Collective life wasn’t about right or wrong. Even if her logic prevailed, she would only end up more isolated, becoming even stranger in the eyes of others. It would merely serve as fodder for them to chew on, earning their further animosity and pushing her further away. Fighting would change nothing. Cheongwol mentally recited a mantra. Just a little longer. Just endure a bit more. This, too, was part of her training. ‘Is it just an act? She’s like that every time—not normal. Is she truly practicing?’ ‘If she doesn't practice, being alone would stand out even more; that's probably why she's doing this, isn’t it?’ ‘Seems like it. In the recent sect appraisal, it was said that she has regressed. I mean, if you put in that much effort and still regress, it's just acting…’ “...Ha.” That final remark shattered Cheongwol's patience into pieces. It was the reason for her recently shortened temperament. Just what was she enduring all this for... She couldn't fathom it. The firm reason she held tightly to raise the Emei Sect's prestige was, as of late, becoming increasingly blurred. – Sssss. Cheongwol slowly rose from her place and walked directly towards the disciples gossiping in the corner. At the center, there was Baekhee. She widened her eyes in surprise. It was Baekhee who had uttered the words that broke Cheongwol's last strand of patience. – Slap!! Cheongwol's hand struck Baekhee’s cheek sharply. The air seemed to freeze around them. No one dared to utter a sound. – Slap!!! Once was not enough. Her fierce, second strike followed suit. For the first time in her ten years at the sect, Cheongwol had raised her hand against someone. Baekhee’s cheek rapidly flushed red, and a thin trickle of scarlet blood dripped from her swollen lips. “Che, Cheongwol sister... why all of a sudden…!” She pleaded in a miserable voice, but Cheongwol’s expression remained unmoved. There was no regret. “I can hear everything, Baekhee.” Cheongwol whispered. “…Always, I’ve heard it all.” No one could have known—no one, especially not someone like Baekhee—just how long and how many emotions she had suppressed. This life with her fellow disciples had lasted for ten years. And she knew better than anyone else that she was the strongest among them. She had been merely watching the bugs she could squash at any time. What had held her back were the rules of the Emei Sect, her master’s gaze, and the desire to somehow get along with her fellow disciples. Looking back now, she found herself questioning the worth of any of those. Daejae Hye-ryul stood up from afar upon witnessing the scene. “Cheongwol!” That shout acted like a signal. Only then did Cheongwol realize that all eyes were on her. A subtle but unmistakable hostility arose. …As expected. Just as she had anticipated. Once again, she had become a public enemy. Cheongwol let out a bitter smile. “…Sigh.” Merely that short breath made Hye-ryul flinch. Could she ever truly smile and live among them? It might just be pretense, as she had already crossed an irreversible river. Simply getting stronger wasn’t the solution. Eventually, she needed to be with people to foresee a future within the sect. …Did a future remain for her here? Cheongwol glanced around. Amidst so many people… ...not a single one. In that space, despite the throng of people, she realized not a single soul was on her side. Cheongwol was slowly, yet profoundly, coming to understand that loneliness could be felt even in a crowded room. She turned her head without a word and began to walk away. There was one person who suddenly crossed her mind. She had been too ashamed to seek him out before, but now, despair overshadowed her shame. **** The rain poured relentlessly the entire day. What did that mean? Business was dead. Exhausted from moving all the drying leathers down to the basement, and on days like this, people's spirits tended to slacken. Farmers might jump for joy when it rains, but for merchants, it was simply a headache. With empty streets, who were we selling to? Ah, except for taverns. On rainy days, taverns buzzed with people—those unable to work and those trapped indoors all flocked there. Going to the tavern on a rainy day was almost a cultural habit. Of course, for me, going to the tavern would only add one more loner to the crowd. But still, I considered visiting it today, for the first time in a while. Cheongwol had been taken care of, after all! I felt a bit light-hearted. Recently, the triplet second-generation disciples from the Emei Sect came down to run an errand and bought a whole bundle of Man Rope. Thanks to that, my wallet was comfortably padded. At the time, I had a bit of a cold sweat. I wondered if Cheongwol had also come down. So, I asked, “Uh… is Lady Cheongwol well?” What was the kid's name again? That third-generation disciple, looking around twelve years old or so, frowned and answered, “Ugh, Mister, don't get any ideas about Cheongwol.” “...Why would I have any interest in that crazy—I mean, Lady Cheongwol? And why am I a mister?” “If you weren't interested, why ask about Lady Cheongwol's whereabouts?” “...” Such a fast talker, that kid. Making you want to give them a good smack. “And our Lady Cheongwol is doing just fine these days~? She’s out of your league~? She’s the Millennium Flower of the Emei Sect~? She doesn’t even get close to men~?” “...Is that so?” Please let it always be that way. The kid, who had been sarcastic, quickly changed his attitude and said, “...But take care! I've noticed her expression seems a bit softer lately. She used to look really fearsome, you know?” “...Well, that's a relief.” No lie, it really was a relief. It meant she had calmed down a bit. The girl soon spun around, as if I wasn't worth any more of her time, and returned to her fellow disciples. The three girls huddled together, sneaking glances at me while whispering something. Then they giggled harshly and sauntered off, making exaggerated sounds of disgust. ...Whatever they said, I'm sure they were talking behind my back. ...Actually, I rather liked it. It was nice. Having the martial artists dislike me? Not bad at all. But truth be told, they were just messing around. Despite their words, they sometimes remembered the lonely me and would shyly leave me a wild strawberry before running away. Anyway, one should keep their distance from martial artists. Although I'm still close to the Beggar Sect uncles who took care of me when I was an orphan... Honestly, that's unavoidable, isn't it? They are the ones who saved my life. No matter how much I might want to distance myself from the martial world... Even if most of those Beggar Sect uncles get involved in wars with demonic cults. That bond, at least, can’t be shaken off. When I asked the uncles to stop being beggars and just move away from the martial world, they said they liked their lives as they were. So, I gave up trying to persuade them. Those uncles are fiery, after all; they live ordinary lives until a demonic cult appears, at which point they'll rush out barefoot. ...At least the good thing is, the Beggar Sect is less of a target for the demonic cults. Yeah, since I've thought of it. I'll grab a few Beggar Sect uncles and head to the tavern. I may end up paying for everything, but who cares. Who knows, maybe the uncles will pass on some special info to the tavern owner, and instead, I'll end up drinking with them on someone else's tab. Right about now, the uncles are probably drenched in the rain. “Oof.” I got up from the bed where I'd been laying down and prepared to head out. Whistling a merry tune, I mapped out my plans for the day. Was it because I was planning to have fun after a while? A silly grin spread across my face. Life truly seemed beautiful after escaping Cheongwol's grasp. Really. They say you only truly appreciate life after a brush with death. – Creak. I opened the door and stepped outside. The rain continued to pour. Despite this, I ventured out, determined to find the uncles. “Going to-” “—Where are you going?” My first step was met with a voice that froze me in place. Every joint from my neck down to my toes became rigid. I was nailed to the spot, staring out at the distant scenery. – Whoosh… The sound of rain filled my ears. To the leftmost edge of my vision... stood something in white martial attire. I didn’t want to confirm what it was. It felt like those times when you know a ghost is right behind you, but you shouldn't look back. The persistent rain drowned out our silence. “…” ...Maybe I should just close the door and go back inside. Suddenly, I felt a strong urge to relax. “...Boss. It's been a while, wouldn't you say you should have a look over here?” I turned my stiff head, Cheongwol—the Grim Reaper of Death and Fate. She was silently taking shelter from the rain under my eaves. Her expression didn't look particularly good. I wanted to ask that third-generation disciple... If they said Cheongwol's expression had softened, were they lying? I'd been on my way to meet the beggar uncles but ended up meeting Cheongwol instead. The gap seemed too vast to bridge. “L-Long time no see, my lady.” “…Taking a break today? I waited quite some time thinking you weren't inside.” The fact that she had been waiting for me was terrifying. That she chose a rainy day when people wouldn't be out on the streets was even more frightening. …I hope I hadn't already been targeted. “...Well, I… um…” “...Striking such a terrified expression upon seeing a lady... isn't that rather impolite?” …The bigger impoliteness is you coming to find me like this, and in any case, you aren’t a lady. You’re a crazed killer. I forced myself to regain composure and performed a polite gesture. “I apologize, but I’ve decided not to work today... I ask you to please return.” I needed to escape. “I, I will just…” “…Do you really think I came here to buy something?” ...I had never heard words so frightening in my entire life. Last time, too, I was scared to death... Swallowing hard, I had no idea how to respond. I forced myself to lift my head that had been bowed. "…" The moment Cheongwol met my eyes, her ears turned crimson, and she quickly averted her gaze. - Swoosh. Suddenly, she switched to her 'I'm just a girl' mode. This was even scarier. It felt like encountering a psychopath sipping milk at a bar. "So… um, Boss," Cheongwol stammered, trying to speak. "…Yes?" "W-Well, actually," she said, her voice quivering while tapping the ground with her foot. As she did, the sword at her waist swayed back and forth. I glanced back and forth between her and the weapon. "…Actually, Boss…" She hesitated so much that I, frustrated, spoke first. "I-I have forgotten about it, my lady." Cheongwol frowned slightly. "…What?" "If it's about what happened that day, I've really forgotten about it." Cheongwol remained silent for a while, then softly whispered, "…That's not it." "…Then, what is it?" Closing her eyes tight, Cheongwol let out a deep sigh. "…Well, the thing is…" "…" "The mental demonic affliction treatment…" Oh, that story? Was she here to claim it didn't work after all this time? Was this the end for me? In my panic, I blurted out, "I'm sor-" "-I-It seemed to help a little." "?" For a moment, I thought I misheard. I stared blankly at Cheongwol's lips. Despite her flushed face, she continued, "…After that, my swordplay improved and the head of the sect praised me... And for a while, those tormenting voices disappeared." Her head was still bowed. She was bent so far down, I could barely see her forehead anymore. Only her neck and ears were visibly flushed. Meanwhile, I questioned myself… How was that even possible? How could that work? What's the connection between a mental demonic affliction and SM? If your inclination doesn't match, SM only results in discomfort. "…" …No way. …Could it be? …Is she a masochist? Before I could come to any conclusions, Cheongwol spoke again. "…Everything about that situation was revolting…!" Ah, just as I thought. "B-But... my skills did improve." No matter what it was, it didn’t concern me. I wasn’t really curious about the details. I just wanted to distance myself. "I'm glad it helped, my lady. Then I'll be-" "—So!" she interrupted. "…" "…I-I was hoping… you could do something like that for me again." "...What?" This dizzying situation made my brain stall. What does she want more of? …SM? She wants that more? Unable to think at all, I blurted the words unbidden from my mouth. "M-Me?" She spoke very quietly, but her words were unmistakably clear. "...Who else but you, Boss? Please… help me a little more." Her voice felt like it drilled into my bones. Instinctively, I responded with brutal honesty. My fear spilled out. ".....W-Why me?"