“While wandering the martial world, I tried not to create grudges, ruthlessly punished evildoers, and did what I believed was right,” Bukgung Ryeong said, looking up at the distant sky. “Then I started uncovering the forces manipulating the martial world. Those three factions controlled sects and people at will, even conducting inhumane experiments.”
His gaze was fixed on the bright moon. “Since that day, my goal has been to expose and destroy those Three Realms. But even at this age, I’ve achieved nothing, and in the end, I was falsely accused and had to leave the martial world.” He looked back at Bu Eunseol. “But then a young man appeared, moving faster than my lifetime’s efforts to crush them.”
“…”
“I thought, if it’s him, he could achieve what I couldn’t.”
His eyes locked onto Bu Eunseol’s. “That’s why I could leave the martial world freely.”
Someone had appeared to carry on Bukgung Ryeong’s will.
It was Bu Eunseol, Majeon’s heir, who had destroyed Daeyun Forest, which produced puppets, along with Jangbaek Merchant Guild and Sword Scale Valley, openly declaring the destruction of the Three Realms.
“I understand what you mean,” Bu Eunseol said, frowning. “But is that why you’ve been moping around, wandering the martial world like a pitiful soul?”
“What are you saying?” Bukgung Ryeong snapped, baring his teeth irritably. “No, it’s that after stepping back from the martial world and reflecting quietly, I realized I might have been a small version of the Three Realms myself!”
Lowering his head briefly, he shook it with a pained expression. “I struck down evildoers and reached out to righteous heroes. But looking back, I wondered if what I did was truly right.”
At Ghost Island, Bukgung Ryeong had fallen into a heart demon due to the conflict between righteous and demonic factions, and Bu Eunseol had awakened him.
But since that day, his perspectives and beliefs had completely changed.
Reflecting on his life, he felt a profound sense of futility.
‘What have I been doing all this time?’
Were those I killed as evildoers truly evil?
What I thought was right—did it lead to something unjust?
If the righteous heroes I believed in turned out like that, I must have made a mistake somewhere.
Such troubles endlessly plagued him.
“Haa,” Bu Eunseol sighed after hearing everything.
He clicked his tongue at Bukgung Ryeong. “Are you a god?”
“What?”
“If you can’t even manage your own life, why worry about others’?”
“What do you mean?”
“Humans are inherently imperfect. That’s why they can strive and grow.”
“I know that. Humans are flawed and make mistakes,” Bukgung Ryeong said, venting his deep frustration. “But you can’t just dismiss a human life as a mistake, can you?”
Bu Eunseol nodded. Though Bukgung Ryeong seemed stubborn and arrogant, he valued life more than anyone.
That’s why Bu Eunseol held him in high regard.
“Your words remind me of someone,” Bu Eunseol said, bringing up an unexpected story. “He was a servant who worked at an inn for over a decade. Thanks to his diligence, he was about to become the head manager. But reflecting on his past, he began to feel regrets.”
“…”
“Did I not serve guests to the best of my ability? Did I cause them inconvenience? Have I been doing things poorly and only got this chance through luck?”
Bu Eunseol looked at Bukgung Ryeong. “In the end, he gave up the manager position and couldn’t even continue as a servant, because his mind was filled with past regrets.”
‘Have I lived wrongly all this time?’
‘Am I doing well now?’
‘Was that really the right choice back then?’
Such concerns are universal among humans, not just Bukgung Ryeong.
But Bukgung Ryeong had lived unwaveringly by his convictions, only for them to collapse at Ghost Island.
Though Bu Eunseol had freed him from his heart demon, he hadn’t yet restored his steadfast beliefs.
“So, what are you telling me to do?” Bukgung Ryeong muttered in distress.
Bu Eunseol snorted. “What do you mean, do? It’s your body and mind—do as you please.” Calmly, he added, “Don’t delude yourself into thinking a bit of fame matters. Not everyone in the world looks up to you.”
“What, what?”
“To me, you’re no different from some drunk old man in the village, thinking the whole world revolves around him.”
Bukgung Ryeong was stunned.
Since earning the title of Bullet King, he had always been the center of the martial world’s attention. He did things that demanded attention—upholding justice and punishing evildoers.
That was his conviction.
But at some point, receiving constant attention led him to think not of his beliefs but of how others perceived him.
As a senior of the righteous faction, he felt compelled to be a role model for many martial artists.
“Am I worrying over nothing?” Bukgung Ryeong said with a hollow expression.
Bu Eunseol replied, “Rather than worrying, you’ve been alone too long.”
“Alone?”
“Yes. Those who travel alone can only reflect on their actions themselves.”
Bukgung Ryeong, momentarily dazed, let out a hollow laugh as if enlightened. “Hahaha.”
People cannot live alone.
They listen to others’ stories, correct their wrongs, or learn from others’ mistakes.
But Bukgung Ryeong had lacked that process.
Always walking alone, he had lived mirroring only his idealized self, leading to this moment.
“You’re right. I need to mingle with people,” Bukgung Ryeong said, his face relaxing as if he’d realized everything. “Enough pretending to live aloofly.”
Then, shaking his head as if realizing something, he said, “But I don’t like the Martial Alliance. It’s full of stuffy old men and too scheming.”
“Do as you wish,” Bu Eunseol said, standing with a relieved expression.
Having freed Bukgung Ryeong from both his heart demon and troubles, he had done his part.
“Wait,” Bukgung Ryeong said, shaking his head and taking a deep breath.
He looked at the sharp scars on the cave wall and said, “My dejection wasn’t just about the righteous-demonic conflict.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a man who made even my lifelong martial prowess seem futile,” Bukgung Ryeong said, sighing deeply. “Maybe five or six years older than you. I was defeated by him, which deepened my troubles.”
Bu Eunseol couldn’t hide his shock.
Bukgung Ryeong’s true skill was such that even Bu Eunseol, at full strength, couldn’t guarantee an easy victory.
Yet a young man around his age had defeated him?
“And he wielded an incredible sword technique, as if aiming to perish together. A terrifying technique of death.”
“A technique of death?” Bu Eunseol’s eyes gleamed.
The sword technique Bukgung Ryeong described sounded similar to the Seven Blood Tear Forms.
“Tell me more.”
“Well…” After a brief hesitation, Bukgung Ryeong began to unravel the story.
***
“Everything feels so troublesome,” Bukgung Ryeong muttered, wandering the martial world, feeling everything was futile.
Nothing sparked his interest, and his past days felt like a fleeting dream.
Meanwhile, the martial world was in chaos.
Recently, mysterious puppets had appeared everywhere, harming not only martial artists but also commoners.
The Martial Alliance made a bold offer: “Ten taels per head for every puppet you eliminate!”
“Ten taels?”
For renowned masters, it was a laughable sum, but for second-rate martial artists, it was significant.
“Let’s go!”
As the rumor spread, armed martial artists roamed the martial world, hunting puppets.
“Gugok Mountain is a gold mine!”
Word spread that many puppets were at Gugok Mountain, where the Mosan Sect once resided.
Many martial artists flocked there, but the mountain’s treacherous terrain and remnants of the Mosan Sect’s bizarre formations and spells caused heavy losses among those seeking the bounty.
“Good timing for some distraction,” Bukgung Ryeong thought, heading to Gugok Mountain upon hearing the rumor.
He searched the area but found no puppets.
‘A false rumor?’
Puzzled, he climbed to Daemo Ridge, where the Mosan Sect once stood.
There, he encountered a bizarre figure.
A man with chains wrapped around his arms, his body seemingly cloaked in black flames.
Perhaps in his early thirties? His aura was grim, his eyes deep and dark, like peering into an abyss.
At a glance, it was clear he wasn’t a righteous disciple but a practitioner of demonic martial arts.
“From your demeanor, you don’t seem like a bounty hunter,” Bukgung Ryeong said.
“…”
“Are you practicing martial arts here?”
The man gave no response.
Bukgung Ryeong’s eyebrow twitched.
In the past, he would have immediately disciplined this insolent demonic youth, teaching him the vastness of the heavens. But now, his animosity toward demonic factions had largely faded, and he had gained considerable patience—changes sparked by meeting Bu Eunseol.
“Young demonic masters with some skill always seem so arrogant,” Bukgung Ryeong said, shaking his head and turning away.
Whoosh!
A faint breeze blew.
Tap, tap, tap.
At the same time, Bukgung Ryeong’s right cheek was slightly cut.
The man had swung his sword, unleashing a sharp sword wind.
“Your guts are swollen,” Bukgung Ryeong said, white killing intent rising in his eyes.
Even in his dejected state, he wasn’t generous enough to overlook such insolence.
“When you cut someone’s face, you’d better be prepared for the consequences, right?”
The man with dark eyes bared his white teeth. “Arrogant fool.”
Thud!
A pebble at Bukgung Ryeong’s feet shot toward the man’s lower abdomen.
Boom!
The man swung his greatsword like lightning, blocking the pebble, but was pushed back a step with a loud explosion.
“Only one step back?” Bukgung Ryeong sighed, realizing the man’s internal energy exceeded three jiazi (180 years).
“Do demonic practitioners eat elixirs like rice?”
“…”
The man fixed his dark eyes on Bukgung Ryeong and beckoned with his finger. “Arrogant fool.”
Thud, thud!
This time, two pebbles shot toward the man’s forehead and lower abdomen.
Why was the Bullet King called the Bullet King?
He could shoot anything with great force and used cunning techniques that were nearly impossible to block.
Boom, boom!
With explosive sounds, the man was struck by the pebbles and hurled dozens of yards away.
“With your skill, you won’t die. Learn some humility,” Bukgung Ryeong said, snorting and turning away.
But then, something extraordinary happened.
Swoosh.
Dark sword phantoms began to rise around him.
Turning, he saw the man standing, extending his greatsword.
‘Dangerous.’
Bukgung Ryeong instinctively knew.
These sword phantoms were not only immensely powerful but carried an ominous aura, as if imbued with death.
Whirl!
Dozens of spheres swirled from Bukgung Ryeong’s body. Using his unique weapon, the Spinning Golden Rings, he aimed to dispel the sword phantoms.
Rumble!
As the sword phantoms and golden rings clashed, a thunderous explosion shook the heavens and earth.
The man’s deathly sword phantoms, unleashed from a distance.
Bukgung Ryeong’s Spinning Golden Rings, infused with his Bullet Force Technique.
The clash of these immense forces dimmed the sky and shook the earth like an earthquake.
Boom! Boom!
The battle reached its climax.
As Bukgung Ryeong blocked the relentless sword phantoms, the man with the greatsword suddenly stood before him.
‘This guy!’ Bukgung Ryeong used his ultimate technique, Bullet Force, to counter the man’s strike.
Boom!
But as the golden rings clashed with the sword, Bukgung Ryeong was flung back like a snapped thread.
The deathly aura in the sword broke through his protective energy and struck his body.
“Ugh.” Bukgung Ryeong barely stood.
His spirit was not whole, causing flaws in his Bullet Force, unable to fully counter the sword phantoms.
“Fine, let’s go again,” he said, standing and scanning the surroundings.
But the man had vanished without a trace.
“…”
He couldn’t continue his words.
Even in his weakened state, to be so easily defeated by a young demonic master was humiliating.
***
“That’s how it happened,” Bukgung Ryeong finished.
Bu Eunseol instinctively knew. ‘The Seven Blood Tear Forms.’
The sword technique that defeated Bukgung Ryeong was the Life Lodges, Death Returns move of the Seven Blood Tear Forms, the unique sword art of the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, Bu Zhanyang.
‘Is this possible?’
Bukgung Ryeong wouldn’t lie.
If so, it meant Bu Zhanyang, presumed missing, was alive and had trained a young disciple.
‘Or perhaps he mastered the sword scars left behind, like I did.’
What was certain was that the one who defeated Bukgung Ryeong was far more proficient in the Seven Blood Tear Forms than Bu Eunseol.
Otherwise, even in a weakened state, Bukgung Ryeong couldn’t have been defeated in a single strike.
‘I’ll find out at Gugok Mountain.’
Gugok Mountain was once home to the Mosan Sect, which used Taoist-derived techniques. Though those techniques had long faded, traces of the Mosan Sect remained.
Yet a man using the Seven-Finger Demon Blade’s sword art was there?
“You seem interested,” Bukgung Ryeong said in a low voice, noticing Bu Eunseol’s fiery gaze. “He’s probably training his sword art there. If you’re lucky, you might find him.”
“I see,” Bu Eunseol said, making up his mind.
He would go to Gugok Mountain and find the young man wielding the Seven-Finger Demon Blade’s sword art.
“I’ve heard enough,” Bu Eunseol said, standing.
Bukgung Ryeong asked, “Heading back to Majeon?”
“What, are you really coming to Majeon?”
“What?”
Bu Eunseol said calmly, “If you really dislike the Martial Alliance, I’ll introduce you to the Heaven and Earth Severing Sect. There are plenty of old men there to keep you company.”
“Hahaha!” Bukgung Ryeong burst into laughter at Bu Eunseol’s jest.
How long had it been since he laughed so heartily?
“You’re telling me to go to the Heaven and Earth Severing Sect? You mad fool!” Bukgung Ryeong laughed for a while, then took a deep breath. “Thinking about it, it’s all because of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re Majeon’s heir, yet you treat the demonic path like dirt. No wonder I’m confused.”
“Righteous or demonic—it means nothing to me.”
“True, for you,” Bukgung Ryeong said, his eyes deepening. “But how many in the martial world are like you?”
The martial world is divided into righteous and demonic factions.
People inevitably choose one path and walk it.
Someone like Bu Eunseol, who disregards such distinctions, is rare in martial history. And Bukgung Ryeong envied and admired Bu Eunseol’s choice.
So he offered one last piece of advice. “Even if you want to go to Majeon, go later.”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard the Jongri family is planning to storm Majeon.”
Bu Eunseol’s expression was as if he’d been struck in the back of the head.
What kind of absurd story was this?
“Why would the Jongri family attack Majeon?”
“They say you deceived them.”
Bu Eunseol’s body flinched.
It was an honest reaction, as he considered Bukgung Ryeong a close friend.
“No way, it’s true?” Bukgung Ryeong said, sighing. “I know you’re not the type to toy with women. But why use Buddha Venerable’s disciple’s name?”
“I needed to ask the Needle King something, but as you can see, I couldn’t in this identity.”
“I see,” Bukgung Ryeong nodded, understanding the situation.
Jongri Sayu, the Needle King’s granddaughter, must have been smitten with Bu Eunseol’s appearance.
He knew her fiery personality well.
“And that old man’s granddaughter probably fell for your face.”
Bu Eunseol might not be the most handsome, but he had an undeniable charisma.
Not many women could resist such an aura.
“You used the granddaughter to get information from Jongri Sahyeon,” Bukgung Ryeong said.
“Something like that,” Bu Eunseol admitted.
Bukgung Ryeong continued, “Anyway, they’re preparing to go to Majeon to protest your deception. That’ll put you in a tough spot.”
Bu Eunseol recalled Jongri Sahyeon’s dark expression when he visited the Jongri estate as Seon Woojin. He had thought it was mere worry, but it was because they were preparing to confront Majeon with Jongri Sayu.
‘I must stop them at all costs.’
Though it was to conceal his identity, he had used the name of Buddha Venerable’s disciple.
If this became known in the martial world, it would be an unparalleled disgrace, and Bu Eunseol’s reputation would plummet.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Bu Eunseol said, hurriedly turning.
Bukgung Ryeong asked, “Planning to stop them?”
“Of course.”
“The Jongri family is stubborn and hot-tempered. Going there directly might pour oil on the fire.”
“Got any ideas?”
Bukgung Ryeong said gravely, “I do, but I’m not sure you can pull it off.”
“What can’t I do?”
“Fine. Since I owe you, I’ll tell you how to resolve this crisis.”
“Speak.”
After a brief pause, Bukgung Ryeong said firmly, “A thick face, spirit herbs, and extra patience.”
“What does that mean?”
Clearing his throat, Bukgung Ryeong said, “Listen closely. The Jongri family…”
