Chapter 147 Personal Organization

Chapter 147: Personal Organization

Thin, long goatee, a mouth that looked like it was perpetually pursed, a high, narrow nose, thick eyebrows, and sharp eyes.

A man who seemed like the very embodiment of the word ‘scholar’.

He was none other than Yoo So-pyeong’s father and Kuryongseong’s CSO (Chief Strategy Officer), Mun Sang.

True to his status as a top executive of a major corporation, he maintained composure no matter what. But now, even he couldn’t hide his agitation and spoke up.

Directly at me.

“I can’t believe this! An executive of the Outer Division, no less, causing an explosion in an unauthorized zone! Are you completely insane?”

“……I’m sorry.”

Did he really think a single nail would cause such a huge commotion…?

But hasty excuses only fuel anger.

I did my best to fix my gaze on the tip of my big toe.

That way, from the front, it looks like I’m reflecting on my actions.

“A Level B emergency order has been issued for the entire Nine Dragons City! Do you even know how many people were mobilized? And how many signal flares were fired!”

“…….”

After enduring that scolding for about an hour.

“Huuu…….”

Having apparently vented everything he wanted to say, Mun Sang began to regulate his breathing.

Based on my experience being famously known as a fire-attribute filial son in a past life, this was a sign the nagging was ending.

Sure enough, after catching his breath, he asked why this incident had occurred.

“Explain what happened.”

This was the moment to make excuses.

He had to handle this well.

One wrong move could lead to the catastrophe of a pay cut.

“Ah, well, you see…”

I adopted the most humble posture possible and began explaining the sequence of events that led to this incident, slowly and in excruciating detail.

A moment later.

“…So, it happened while testing a Grade A weapon, is that it?”

“Yes, sir! I’m not at fault—it’s all this thing’s fault!”

“Understood.”

Mun-sang nodded. I rubbed my palms together as quickly as possible and bowed my head.

” Hehe, thank you for understanding.“

”Who said I understood? I just said I got it.“

When I looked at him with a questioning gaze at his unexpected remark, Mun Sang replied indifferently.

”Three months of confinement. That’s already being very lenient, considering it’s you, Sopyeong.“

Confinement meant no monthly stipend and restricted access outside—a serious punishment.

” What?!”

He couldn’t hide his flustered emotions.

How much had he pleaded, and yet it was confinement!

How diligently had he looked after Yoo So-pyeong all this time!

‘Betrayal, pure betrayal!’

Just as he was about to confront him, driven by the surging sense of betrayal.

‘Wait, confinement isn’t so bad, is it?’

He began to view the situation from a new perspective.

Of course, losing three months’ salary—twenty-seven taels—sucked.

Being stuck inside the city walls was unbearably stifling too.

But I needed time.

Time just for myself, to recover from the exhaustion of the Han-Zhong campaign.

Well, it was also about time I had my martial arts skills checked by my personal instructor, Master Bukgung.

‘I was planning to take a leave of absence anyway.’

Strictly speaking, I was indeed at fault.

“Ahem, I thank you for your generous leniency.”

I accepted his decision quietly.

“…I thought you’d resist?”

“Because I was wrong.”

“Have you finally grown up? That’s different from what So-pyeong told me.”

“…?”

Just as I was about to voice my confusion, Mun Sang leaned forward and asked.

“By the way, you said the thread from the top-grade needle case combined with the nail you had?”

“Ah, yes. They merged on their own and became one.”

Hearing my answer, he chuckled softly and muttered.

“So, that was the Thunderbolt Arrow after all.”

“Thunder… Thunder Arrow?”

“It’s the legacy of a warrior who fought for supremacy five hundred years ago.”

“Y-You mean this is that kind of treasure?”

I hurriedly looked down at the sewing kit set in my hand.

“Wasn’t that thread the only one without a name?”

“Correct. Everything else had a name, but this one didn’t.”

“I understand it was left unnamed because it was only half a set. But somehow, you happened to possess the other half.”

Could such a coincidence even exist?

Just as I was overwhelmed by this absurd feeling, Mun-sang clapped his hands and said.

“Congratulations. You have become the owner of a divine weapon without equal in the world.”

“……”

“But don’t get too excited. Treasures, after all, tend to endanger their owners if they lack the strength to match them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Still, since almost no one knows its form and characteristics, changing its name should be no big problem.”

“Ah, if that’s the case, a name just came to mind.”

“Hoo… Already? Well, what name do you intend to call it?”

He spoke with an expression that clearly showed his great anticipation.

“Jeonju-si. I intend to call it Jeonju-si.”

I gave the new name of the Thunder Arrow the name of a very traditional city.

After all, I was craving bibimbap.

* * *

‘Jeonju-si (戰主矢), Lord of the Battlefield… It’s an incredibly grandiose name, but it suits it well.’

On the way home, leaving some solid misunderstanding behind with Mun-sang.

I walked, staring at Jeonju-si—more precisely, at the palm holding Jeonju-si.

‘Finally!’

Was the curse of the unlucky hand lifted?

It was.

With a single try, I had pulled an SSS-grade item worthy of competing for the best in the world.

Brrrr.

My whole body trembled with excitement, and tears streamed from my eyes.

How much suffering had I endured all this time because of my terrible luck?

‘And only now am I getting compensated for it….’

Piiii.

As if responding to my joy, the Jeonju City orb flew from my hand and began spinning around me.

Watching it move wherever my gaze fell, wherever my thoughts led, I suddenly felt a pang of regret.

‘Even if I infuse a lot of ki, it doesn’t increase the speed, does it.’

The speed of the Jeonju Sword was governed by the speed of the ki’s flow, not the amount of ki.

If the speed had increased too, I would have gained a powerful weapon that no one could stop.

Overtaking the Red Dragon Sect to become the world’s greatest assassin… well, that’s a bit much.

Still, pumping in more ki increased its destructive power accordingly, so it wasn’t exactly devastatingly disappointing.

When I pushed ki into Jeonju City up to its limit, it unleashed a destructive force comparable to a full-power Exploding Sword.

‘Anyway, what exactly is the principle behind this?’

I pondered, staring at the thread tied to my pinky finger, connected to Jeonju City.

Pump in ki to move it at will.

A followed by D, then immediately Z—wasn’t that the mechanism?

There was no way some brainwave analyzer was attached to this.

But there was one aspect I could speculate on.

‘The conceptualization of ki.’

Ki has a tendency to disperse once it leaves the body.

But when reaching the pinnacle, one can infuse their own intent into the ki. Using this, the ki that would otherwise disperse is condensed—that is precisely what forms the strong ki.

Then what about Jeonju-shi?

Piiii.

It manifests my will 100%. Perfectly.

Like internal energy coursing through the body.

Which means.

The threads of the Jeonju City act as acupoints, and the nails act as blades.

“No wonder they call it a divine weapon worthy of competing for the title of the world’s best.”

The more I looked at it, the more I marveled at this artifact—no, this treasure.

Having obtained such a treasure, I must guard it even more carefully.

I adjusted the Jeonju-si and secured it in my bosom, ready to unleash it at any moment.

With that contented feeling, the place I sought out was… precisely.

Home.

Having been ordered to rest, I couldn’t very well be wandering around on the first day, could I?

At the very least, I should wait until tomorrow to go out and roam.

* * *

The next day.

Rising late as a form of house arrest commemoration, I brushed off the cleaning office’s scolding—that if I had nothing to do, I should assist the physician—and headed straight for North Palace Baek’s residence.

Now that we’d formally established a master-disciple bond, shouldn’t I start milking him properly from this moment on, to make up for all the years I’d suffered without a true teacher?

Especially since that teacher happened to be none other than the Ten Great Masters of the World, the Tuwang.

“……”

But the moment I exchanged my first words with him, I sensed my thinking was wrong.

“Don’t you know the Zhenwang Style better than I do?”

Was Bukgung Baek slacking off from the very first lesson?

“No, but since we’re both from the same martial lineage, there must be some common ground…”

“Black Dragon Water is a martial art derived from the Zhenwang style. A river’s tributary may be as deep as the main stream, but it can never be as wide.”

“What the hell kind of nonsense is that… Hmph!”

Crack. Whack!

Crash.

I barely parried the Black Dragon Water that flew at me in an instant, but I couldn’t fully disperse its force and was sent flying over ten meters.

He raised his head with effort to look at Beogung Baek, who smiled faintly and said.

“Now I’ll explain the reason.”

“Why walk over here? Couldn’t you just explain it from there?”

“I know nothing of teaching through words alone.”

Suppressing his unease, he asked.

“…Then what?”

“Practical application.”

“No.”

This guy always does this.

A moment later.

“You’ve improved greatly.”

“…You flatter me.”

“Do you understand now?”

“Yes, I think I understand a little.”

Understand my ass. I didn’t understand a thing, but I just nodded.

“No need for modesty. Considering your age, this is an outstanding achievement. Perhaps.”

Standing before me, beaten like a dog, North Palace Baek raised his cup and offered praise.

“It makes me think I might be looking at the future number one under heaven.”

What? Is he giving me a buff and a heal?

“……”

North Palace Baek lowered his voice.

“越動越強, 越戰越強 (The more you move, the stronger you become; the more you fight, the stronger you grow). Build strength through movement and increase power through battle. That’s the advice I can give you right now.”

It was the kind of tone a master uses when teaching martial arts to a disciple in a wuxia movie.

“Ah, yes. I see…”

I couldn’t hide my disappointment at advice that offered no immediate help.

If pressed, it felt like asking the top student in the school, “How can I study better?” and getting the answer, “Study your textbooks intensely.”

“You look dissatisfied.”

I was very dissatisfied, but I quickly changed my expression and replied.

“Ah, no. Oh! My cup is empty. This disciple will pour you another.”

“Do so.”

After several rounds of toasts, he suddenly began clearing his throat repeatedly.

He seemed to have something to say but was holding back out of pride.

I spoke respectfully, as a disciple should.

“Why bother with pride now? Just say what you need to say.”

“……”

He glared at me with a cold stare and opened his mouth.

“I was thinking… shouldn’t you, as a member of the North Palace family, show some dignity?”

“Dignity…? What do you mean?”

“How frustrating. This is the North Palace, once known as the Western Blade, which shook the world. Shouldn’t you naturally show some dignity?”

No, the North Palace family was disbanded ages ago… .

Still, it was the words of my revered master, so I listened respectfully and asked.

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“First, it would be best to cultivate the appearance of a strong man.”

“My martial arts are already sufficient…”

He shook his head, cutting me off.

“The ‘strong man’ I speak of here refers not to your own strength, but to the strength of your group.”

“…But, Master, you always travel alone, don’t you?”

“My body may be alone, but comrades who share my purpose are scattered throughout the world. It’s common knowledge among those in the know.”

No way… He’s a hundred percent a loner…

I found it utterly unbelievable, but I couldn’t openly disagree.

Especially since this master was the Fire Demon King risen from hell – I had to be extra cautious.

“I-I see.”

“You don’t seem convinced.”

“No! How could a disciple ever doubt his master’s words?!”

“Then that settles it.”

He spoke with a faint, mocking smile.

“Forming a personal organization wouldn’t be a bad idea. Or perhaps establishing a small sect would be good.”

“Would the castle grant permission?”

Martial artists receiving salaries from Guryongseong were legally barred from forming private organizations without the castle lord’s permission.

When he questioned this large-scale proposal that would involve the castle lord, Baekgung Baek said as if it were nothing.

“You can do it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m here.”

“Ah…”

Indeed, in the martial world, having connections and power is what matters most.

“In that sense, today I’ll teach you about discerning character. When selecting subordinates… martial arts prowess… and character are essential… But how you handle things depends entirely on…”

Listening to Baekgong Baek’s drawn-out speech, I began to regret coming here.

‘I came to learn martial arts…’