Murim Troubleshooter Dan Mujin

Chapter 63: Kin Recognition

In the Murim, martial artists who reached a certain level of mastery often left behind their insights in secret manuals.

It was done in hopes that their disciples and descendants would follow in their footsteps and attain enlightenment.

But each person possessed different insight, so even when reading the same manual, the achievements they gained varied drastically.

Even if one understood it intellectually, without natural martial talent, it was difficult to truly embody its principles.

Such a pinnacle state could only be reached by those who possessed both insight and innate martial talent—an area reserved for the gifted.

Thus, no matter how much effort an ordinary person poured into their training, most could only reach the level of a First Rate Martial Artist. Their limits were defined by their inborn talent.

Whoooosh—!

But the woman swinging the massive blade before me clearly exuded an extraordinary aura.

A heavy chunk of iron rushed in with the momentum to split a mountain. The blade ripped through the air with a sonic crack like a tiger’s roar.

It seemed that blades would shatter the moment they clashed. If something that massive came flying at one’s face, it would be overwhelming to even think about how to counter it.

Perhaps aware of that, she frequently used techniques that obscured vision with the broad surface of her weapon, charging in with overwhelming force.

It was a demonstration of her remarkable insight.

Moreover, rather than being weighed down by the massive blade, she used its weight to deliver agile and dynamic movements—Jo Hah-rang.

Whooong!

Her movement, stripped of excess, burst with elasticity. The windmill-like swing of her massive blade and the overwhelming strength behind it signaled uncommon martial talent.

On top of that, her ability to fully channel her qi into the huge blade with such freedom of energy flow…

And yet, watching her fight raised an unavoidable question.

With all that overflowing talent, why hadn’t she reached the pinnacle?

As I closely observed her swordsmanship, I noticed something odd.

‘Why isn’t there any killing intent in her strikes?’

What is martial arts? Many embellish it with talk of cultivating the Tao or observing oneself, but at its core, it is a technique to harm and kill.

Even when controlling oneself, if one imagines an enemy in their mind and swings a real weapon, some trace of killing intent would naturally seep in.

But in her overwhelming, tyrannical blade techniques that tore the air apart, there was not even the faintest sense of killing intent—as if it had been completely ‘bleached’ away.

‘No, upon closer inspection, there’s something there.’

A lump of crimson emotion. But it remained trapped inside her body, unable to escape—as if being compulsively suppressed.

She clearly had no hesitation in cutting down evildoers. She seemed to truly believe that it was a righteous act, a way to accumulate good karma.

Or maybe, she refused to acknowledge the instinctive urge to hate and harm others.

Yet that, too, was one of the Five Desires and Seven Emotions inherent to all humans.

The body and mind must be upright to move forward, but if she intentionally blurred something within her heart, how could she ever break through and awaken to the pinnacle?

‘If I just fix that part, things might work out. Right, Salsung?’

‘Kill (殺)!’

It seems to agree.

I probably just need to help her realize it. I stood up, my stiff body creaking.

Whooong!

Lost in her own world, she didn’t even notice me approach. The massive blade grazed right past my nose.

The fierce gust of wind from the swing turned my hair into a tangled mess, like in my beggar days.

“What the—when did you get here? You startled me.”

“……Not as much as you startled me.”

She said she would beat Cheonsa Seong and protect the world. Was she trying to achieve that dream already?

I placed a hand over my startled chest and calmed myself.

“So, what brings you here?”

Under the full moon, Jo Hah-rang wiped the sweat from her white nape with a cloth and asked.

“It’s nothing big. You helped me before, right? I’m here to repay that.”

She had been someone who believed the righteous should be stronger than the wicked and generously shared the enlightenment she gained.

Thinking of the good karma I might stack in the future, I was the type to repay my debts.

“Geez, why are you making a big deal out of that? Comrades help each other out.”

Jo Hah-rang scratched her cheek awkwardly.

Since when had wanderers been such a tightly bonded group?

I’d been playing the wanderer role for a while, but she was the first one who ever showed me what ‘comradeship’ felt like.

“So, Mujin, how exactly are you planning to repay me?”

In response, I rested my Dog-Beating Staff, brimming with qi, across my shoulder.

“Let’s have a spar.”

Those emotions inherent to humans—rage and malicious intent.

I didn’t know why she was suppressing them, but as Cheonsa Seong, I’d draw them out with my staff.

Just a bit of provocation should be enough to break the dam. I could instinctively tell what I needed to do.

“Sounds good. I was getting bored training alone anyway.”

With a grin, Jo Hah-rang spun lightly and faced me.

The massive blade cast a shadow in front of me.

Clang! Clack!

A chorus of crashing weapons rang out as they collided.

Under the dim moonlight, a man and a woman exchanged vicious techniques, breathing heavily.

“Hey, Jo Hah-rang. What does martial arts mean to you?”

Panting heavily from the ongoing bout, Dan Mujin swallowed his breath and asked.

“A tool for doing good.”

The answer came instantly—she must have been repeating it to herself like a mantra.

“And how do you do good with it?”

“By beating up the bad guys!”

With that reply, her massive blade slashed downward, aiming to split my crown.

Clack!

My Dog-Beating Staff, imbued with qi, slid up along the wide blade and skewed its trajectory. The strike narrowly missed my shoulder.

Yet once again, no red arc followed the strike. Dan Mujin furrowed his brow.

“Then why do you refuse to acknowledge the existence of killing intent, even while beating people?”

Cutting people down without harboring killing intent? Mechanically, emotionlessly slashing only the wicked?

It couldn’t have been more unnatural. And such unnaturalness would only obstruct the unity of mind and body.

“Well… because it’s an unnecessary emotion?”

That couldn’t be right.

Just like eating, defecating, and sleeping, it was an utterly natural human behavior.

Try skipping defecation just because it’s filthy or unpleasant—you’d die with your body filled with waste.

One of the natural human emotions should never be treated as nonexistent.

“Boiling rage, and even the desire to harm others—those are natural. Accept them.”

It’s because shadows exist that sunlight stands out. It’s because of wicked thoughts that righteous acts shine brighter.

“What’s so natural about that!”

Jo Hah-rang gritted her teeth as she answered.

As if to shake off the confusion swirling in her mind, she swung her massive blade even harder.

The memory of some righteous past still fresh in her eyes.

Beneath the burning hall, her mother and father had vomited blood as they screamed at her to run away.

The sound of blades stabbing into flesh repeatedly. It was a horrifying time when she could clearly sense human malice and killing intent.

Fortunately, she was rescued by someone who arrived following the sparkle of stars, allowing her to survive—but at the cost of being left alone in the world.

And so, in the rain, Jo Hah-rang declared her vow of vengeance, saying she would endure all the world’s evils.

"……I'm not like those people!"

Whether it was fortunate or not, she had the strength and talent to act, and she had a master who guided her.

So she became a wanderer who cut down the wicked. A martial artist who pursued vengeance, accumulated righteous karma, and earned money.

And now, she held close to her chest as if it were a golden rule:

‘Do not be consumed by evil when facing evil.’

It was advice her master had given her upon sensing that her heart was adrift—words meant to anchor her.

Since then, those words had become a guiding signpost for her.

"Hey, accepting it doesn't make you evil. It just means you're someone who acknowledges your own emotions."

Jo Hah-rang shook her head as if to reject the idea. To her, those emotions were the root of all evil and impurities of the heart.

She believed they brought only harm and should be completely severed like a blade’s cut.

Clang! Clack!

But why was it?

Every time she exchanged moves with Dan Mujin and crossed weapons, something within her felt touched.

Something unpleasant yet familiar—something that evoked a strong sense of kinship.

"You told me before, right? Qi is meant to flow, so instead of bottling it up stupidly, you should let it flow."

Dan Mujin had advised her that human emotions were the same. One shouldn’t block the flow by force.

Just as he had surpassed the level of a Second Rate Martial Artist, he believed she too could surpass First Rate Martial Artist by doing the same.

"But still……."

"And you also said this: A person is not defined by fleeting emotions, but by the path they’ve walked and the actions they’ve accumulated."

"……."

That, too, was something she had said when acknowledging Dan Mujin’s character.

Stopping her movement, Jo Hah-rang looked at him. Her lips moved restlessly, her mind clearly in turmoil.

"So accept it. Let it flow."

Clang.

With a sound that was neither too fast nor too slow, the Dog-Beating Staff struck her massive blade.

At that moment, Jo Hah-rang began to feel an inexplicable resonance through her fingertips. The tip of her blade trembled uncontrollably.

‘……!’

And at the same time, her emotions poured out like a dam bursting.

The killing intent that had surged whenever she saw evildoers, the sense of justice that had disguised her thirst for vengeance—they all surged through her.

“Don’t break. Just bend. Humans aren’t meant to be perfect.”

Even the heart cultivation method she had learned from her master had a similar chant.

‘柔而不折 容己不全.’

The more flexible you are, the less you break. The more you accept your imperfections, the stronger you become.

“……So that’s what it was.”

A reunion with long-suppressed emotions. And a sudden moment of enlightenment.

Dan Mujin’s words struck deep within her heart.

Jo Hah-rang slowly closed her eyes. She released all the internal energy she had stored in her dantian and meridians.

Ssshhh—!

Invisible waves of energy burst outward in all directions. Emotions, as if unsealed, surged madly.

The internal energy that had always been trapped inside her blade now began to flow outward in sync with her emotions.

‘Where the wind goes, where the waves flow.’

Let it flow without control.

Jo Hah-rang envisioned the enemy she wanted to cut in her mind and danced with her blade.

Leaving it to instinct, she swung the massive sword around.

Slice—!

Trees split, and rocks and ground shattered.

A massive boulder split with a loud crack as it was cleaved in two.

Amid her heavy breathing, she opened her eyes and saw about three inches of white sword qi rising from the blade.

A fierce energy, enough to cut through anything.

It was the very manifestation of sword qi she had long desired.

“Congratulations, Peak Master Level.”

A star-lit night sky. A decently handsome young man smiled and congratulated her.

Seeing him, Jo Hah-rang finally realized she had reached the peak.

“I, I……”

“You what?”

The emotions that had finally awakened wouldn’t settle. She had become utterly honest with her instincts.

And stirred by the thoughts that popped up just by looking at his face, she couldn’t stay still.

“I want to keep swinging.”

So she chose to overwork her body. Until she was too exhausted to think of anything.

Thud! Crackle!

A dazzling sword qi show by a Peak Master Level martial artist that ripped through the forest.

It was a ruckus big enough to jolt everyone, who had fallen into deep sleep trusting the night watch, into shock.

“Hey! Calm down, you crazy woman!”

Her wild slashing didn’t stop until Dan Mujin’s desperate yell rang out.

The next morning.

Standing in front of a forest turned to ruin, Ma Jungcheon spoke beside me.

"……Mister, did a meteor fall last night?"

This was a scene created by a single human.

With the added sword qi on her heavy great blade, the trees were uprooted completely without even leaving roots.

The cracked and split earth and shattered rocks looked like the aftermath of a natural disaster.

"Heh, guess I should call her Great Blade now, not Small Scalpel Blade. I didn’t see it myself, but that tiger-like momentum was palpable."

Upon being told that Jo Hah-rang had reached Peak Master Level overnight, Ma Jungcheon let out a hollow chuckle and mumbled.

"But I heard Jo Hah-rang stayed at the First Rate Martial Artist level for quite a while. Was there some kind of trigger?"

"Nothing special. We were sparring and I gave her a few words of advice, and she figured it out on her own."

"……!"

I scratched the side of my head and answered like that.

With this, I’d reached First Rate Martial Artist, and she’d reached Peak Master Level, so our chances of placing high in the Martial Arts Tournament had just increased.

If she even ended up winning, maybe I should ask for a share? Talk about splitting the rewards.

"Mister."

But while I was daydreaming, Ma Jungcheon approached me with a serious face.

"What is it?"

"I’ve also been stuck at the First Rate Martial Artist level for a while…… Do you think you could offer me some advice?"

"Nope."

His face instantly drooped with disappointment.

The change was so quick it made me chuckle a little.

"You’ve got a master, don’t you? Ask him to teach you."

"……That master of mine is currently on the run."

Ah, right.

Nothing I can really say to that.

He was trying to bring him back, but was that kind of person who never listened to others anyway.

Even when I told him to stop drinking, that old man just lived with a wine barrel glued to his side.

"Still, lately it feels like I’ve found a hopeful replacement, so that’s a relief."

"……."

Those eyes again. That intense, burdensome look of expectation.

"Ah, yeah."

It felt like I’d be dragged off and trapped somewhere, so I quickly fled the scene.