Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

"You're a funny guy. How dare you, right to my face."

Tugwi's[Twin Demon] lips curled upward.

Jung Yeonshin kept walking, undeterred. He did not stop advancing.

He had heard of Tugwi before. They said he was a master of joint locks.

His nickname wasn't about fighting as if possessed. It was Tugwi, meaning he stole like a ghost.

"Do you know what my nickname means?"

Tugwi asked with a smile.

'A man who loves to talk.' 

Jung Yeonshin thought.

The distance between them shrank without a single reply, but Tugwi's chatter did not cease.

"They call me Tugwi because I take anything I want. I even took your senior brother's dazed eyes."

"Senior brother?"

The man burst into laughter at Jung Yeonshin's question.

"Not senior brother, I suppose. Desolate Fortress is a sect without roots, isn't it? You can't even call your master a master. Ma Jin, the one who likely taught you, is probably wandering some desolate wilderness by now."

"What's your purpose? Didn't you already take the Plum Blossom Pill?"

Jung Yeonshin paused briefly and asked. By now, the distance between them was within reach.

Maybe five steps apart. The calluses imprinted on Tugwi's hands, which clenched and unclenched, were clearly visible.

One leap would be enough to tear the man apart and still leave strength to spare.

"The one you don't dare call senior brother. The head of Azure-Eye Demonic Swordsman."

From the empty sleeve of Tugwi's left arm, a wave of energy flowed out. It was an act beyond Jung Yeonshin's comprehension.

"You're risking the return of the Absolute Sword Sect and the leader?"

"You don't understand what a warrior's hand signifies. Enough. I humored you because they said you showed promise, but you're no different from the ignorant ones."

This time, Tugwi stepped forward.

As if declaring he would not yield Chung Myung's head to anyone.

The aura emanating from him was unusual. He might be able to trade a few moves with a blue-ranked master.

Whoong!

Jung Yeonshin channeled his energy into the Jung Clan's Internal Art he had already begun.

From his head, the chant of the Radiance Sword Style unraveled. At the same time, energy sprouted in his palm like a blooming sun.

There was no need to wait. Jung Yeonshin immediately raised the Desolate Sword and struck upward. A faint streak of light followed the blade.

Swish—!

The strike missed. It was the first time since the sword technique's creation.

Tugwi's movement truly lived up to his nickname—ghostly. His body turned and surged forward simultaneously with tremendous speed.

The hand that followed bent like a snake, accompanied by an eerie flow of energy.

It seemed ready to coil around Jung Yeonshin's sword hand.

'Joint locks. Quite refined.'

Jung Yeonshin took note of Tugwi's technique.

The history of joint locks was long. It was said to have originated from a general of a fallen kingdom.

What started as a display of martial prowess in military camps spread to officers, imperial guards, and eventually the martial world.

Its core lay in subduing an opponent's arm, rendering them defenseless.

Even as energy manipulation evolved, its essence remained unchanged.

Thud!

Jung Yeonshin twisted his body, leaned in, and pushed.

A technique often seen in back alleys—A body blow, using the body to strike.

A short gust of wind swirled around his body.

The spiral force in his movements shattered any chance of being caught from behind.

The technique of spiral strikes from Limit Releasing Technique, blended with Chung Myung's teachings, made Tugwi's eyes narrow.

"Is that the stepping technique of the Ming tribe? No, it's a new martial art with a similar form but entirely different roots."

"You talk too much."

"I looked into you."

Tugwi continued without hesitation.

"Blood Flame Cult is a terrifying force. They deal with promising threats accordingly. They send assassins and dig into your past. They unearthed everything. That you're from the Jung Family Manor in Xinye County, Hanam, which was wiped out. That the Hao Clan spilled the information after their own ordeal."

"..."

"Jung Family's child. They say you buried your kin in the back mountain. What do you think has become of that place now? You've made Blood Flame Cult a grave enemy."

"What?"

"You took the head of their Blood Master? Did you think they'd leave your hometown untouched? They dug up the mountain. Then burned it all down."

Jung Yeonshin tightened his grip on the sword. He remembered the servant who called him to breakfast every morning.

He also recalled his father, who had only acknowledged him as a son at the end of his life. The relatives who had shunned him now surfaced with bittersweet memories.

"You. You have black hair, so you're not a cultist. Are you one of their demons?"

"You think all warriors of the Blood Flame Cult practice Blood Techniques? You really are new to the martial world."

"Yeah."

It didn't matter what techniques a man doomed to die had practiced. Jung Yeonshin muttered.

He summoned his energy once more. Vital energy filled his meridians and circulated through his body.

With Limit Releasing Technique, layered energy resonated violently.

Warriors on the verge of life and death transcend ordinary senses.

It's said they sense their opponent's thoughts more intimately than lovers.

Tugwi's twisted grin deepened.

"A brat like you, kill me? I'll bury you along with the Azure-Eye Demonic Swordsman's remaining eye."

The moment Tugwi mentioned Chung Myung's eyes, Jung Yeonshin's thoughts drifted to another realm.

'When do martial artists, warriors, truly despair?'

Perhaps when their master, senior, or themselves die—that's the first instance.

The second might be when their bodies are no longer capable of practicing martial arts.

Then, what about the third? What could deal a blow comparable to the first two for those obsessed with martial arts?

Simply severing limbs wasn't enough. Vengeance. The desire to survive was the only stronger emotion.

"Hup!"

Tugwi exhaled a short breath. At the same time, his phantom-like footwork unfolded once more.

His hand, which claimed to steal anything in the world, unraveled the subtle mastery of joint locks.

Jung Yeonshin stepped forward, moving his sword-wielding right hand.

Like a lightning flash disappearing, the Desolate Sword returned to its sheath.

He faced his opponent entirely barehanded.

Jung Yeonshin extended his right hand.

It looked identical to Tugwi's joint locks.

Tugwi smirked, interpreting it as arrogance, and his face disappeared from view.

Jung Yeonshin's hand cast a strange shadow, leaving an afterimage.

It was a small movement. With a single gesture, he deflected Tugwi's joint locks.

"······!"

The trajectory was clearly within the realm of advanced martial arts, the technique itself operating on a higher dimension.

Striking Late, Yet First. The slower hand of Jung Yeonshin reversed the flow and seized the enemy's wrist first.

At the same time, the brute strength of Jung Clan Movement Arts surged forth. It had been a long time since it last showed its force.

The sheer pressure of his grip completely locked down the opponent's movements, leaving no need for pressure-point strikes.

"You, how can you······!"

Cold sweat broke out on Tugwi's face.

He couldn't even think about kicking. It was hard to believe he had ever looked confident.

"This seems to work better. Your technique wasn't that refined."

Jung Yeonshin spoke indifferently.

Tugwi's expression verged on panic, perhaps even terror.

In an instant, his unique martial art had been snatched away and blossomed in the enemy's hands.

"Should I teach you the chant?"

When Jung Yeonshin asked in a low voice, Tugwi flinched. This time, Jung Yeonshin smiled.

As if he would reveal it. Tugwi seemed to realize this too, his face shifting from desperation to despair.

Jung Yeonshin stole and shattered the man's life.

'This is it.'

He had discovered his own method of dragging unorthodox martial artists into the abyss.

Martial arts in Jianghu were often called Jeok-gong (Accumulated Effort), reflecting the idea that they embodied years of dedication and life itself.

It was enough to invalidate that effort.

All he had to do was unfold the opponent's martial art in a superior form—right before their eyes.

The wrist held in Jung Yeonshin's right hand crumbled.

Srrng.

Amid Tugwi's screams, Jung Yeonshin drew the Desolate Sword in a reverse grip from his waist.

* * *

Jung Yeonshin entered the inn carrying Tugwi's head.

There had been experts of the Blood Flame Cult who attacked alongside Tugwi. But they were already dealt with.

Ma Jin had returned and, along with masters of the Mount Hua Sect, defeated the Blood Flame Cult forces.

Even the Radiant Demon Squad, apart from Jung Yeonshin, had joined the battle. Ma Jin said he had watched Jung Yeonshin's fight while leaning against the window.

"You······."

The scar across Ma Jin's face twitched repeatedly.

He opened his mouth a few times as if to speak, then sighed.

Jung Yeonshin paid no attention to his uncle's complex expression.

"There's a substantial achievement here. Make sure it's properly recorded."

He handed over Tugwi's head while holding a wooden box taken from the man's possession in his other hand.

Inside the small box was a pill emanating a mystical energy he had never felt before.

Plum Blossom Pill. It was, without question, the highest level of merit.

Ma Jin opened his mouth, still looking dazed.

"······You'll reach the blue rank soon. You can request a promotion test in the near future. It'll be the shortest time ever, and of course, you'll be the youngest."

"The promotion test······ I've heard of it. I'll need more details later. But it seems there's something more urgent now."

"Right. The Mount Hua Sect suffered an attack."

Following Ma Jin, Jung Yeonshin entered another room. The inn was nearly half-destroyed.

Yet the innkeeper's expression was rather bright. He said he had been promised compensation in the name of Desolate Fortress and the Mount Hua Sect.

"Hmm."

Jung Yeonshin murmured. The boy lying on the bed, as if dead, was familiar.

Yoo Hyun, the head disciple of the Mount Hua Sect.

He was the bold friend who had vowed to visit Desolate Fortress after sparring with Jung Yeonshin.

"He poured out all his energy, saying he had to protect his senior brother."

Cheon Joo, standing by the bedside, glanced at Jung Yeonshin and spoke.

The sharp impression of the man, known as the Sword Master of Mount Hua, appeared softened.

Jung Yeonshin understood why. The dantian was not like an ordinary container.

It was an organ that naturally held a small amount of energy. Completely depleting it caused damage.

Some even referred to this minimal energy as Innate True Energy.

Jung Yeonshin recalled hearing that, although its nature was similar to core energy, it could be drawn and replenished.

Carefully, Jung Yeonshin spoke.

"If it's energy depletion, can't it just be replenished? I thought it was a common issue."

"You're right. The other disciples with similar symptoms are already up and about."

"Then Yoo Hyun's core energy······."

"Hyun's case is different. As the sect leader's disciple, he practiced Violet Dawn Sacred Arts. Not all Mount Hua martial arts are the same. His internal cultivation follows a completely different system."

Cheon Joo explained heavily. Even after seeing the Plum Blossom Pill in Jung Yeonshin's hand, his attitude didn't change.

They needed a master to dissolve the pill's energy and transfer it to Yoo Hyun.

"Returning this is a great favor. The Plum Blossom Pill's energy could replace the Violet Dawn Sacred Arts. But the process of refining and channeling the pill's energy must be extremely delicate. Hyun doesn't even have half an hour left······"

Cheon Joo's words were cut off. Ma Jin, standing beside him, moved his lips silently, as if using voice transmission.

Cheon Joo's eyes widened as he looked at Jung Yeonshin.

"Did you get permission to let me handle this?"

Jung Yeonshin asked, and Ma Jin nodded.

"Yes. Swallow it now. This, too, will be credited to your achievements."

There was no need to ask further. He already understood.

Back when he defeated the martial artist of Heavenly Squad, Jung Yeonshin had rapidly absorbed Desolate Fortress's reserve elixirs.

Before Ma Jin could place his hand on his Baihui Acupoint, it was over.

Lord of the Desolate Fortress was said to be the Sword Master of Mount Hua's rival. Perhaps they shared a bond of trust.

Cheon Joo, who approved immediately, also seemed exceptionally bold.

"Then."

He laid Yoo Hyun face down, carefully positioning his hands, and then sat cross-legged beside him.

With Cheon Joo's silent consent, Jung Yeonshin took out the white pill and swallowed it.

Its fragrant aroma lingered as the Plum Blossom Pill dissolved within him.

'Are there pills that melt instantly like this?'

The thought vanished quickly. From his Stone Gate Acupoint in the lower dantian, he began moving his energy.

As the Plum Blossom Pill dissolved in the circuit of Major Circulation, its energy rose rapidly.

The moment he strengthened his power, he realized.

Plum Blossom Pill was specialized for specific energy techniques.

He recalled hearing that both martial arts and elixir-making techniques grew through history.

It would take a year for someone without Mount Hua cultivation to absorb Plum Blossom Pill's energy completely.

Extracting and refining the energy were two different processes, and the gap widened with higher-grade elixirs.

'Without a year of secluded training······ this energy might as well be borrowed power.'

That's likely why the Blood Flame Cult and Tugwi hadn't used it immediately.

'Better to refine my martial arts instead. But I can still transfer this energy to Yoo Hyun.'

It was a golden opportunity.

It was time to fully open his slightly unsealed center core energy.

Baek Miryeo's words resurfaced—he needed to harbor immense energy within.

The Plum Blossom Pill more than exceeded that requirement.