The Message of My Death (1)
I returned home.
Officially, I was back from training in the mountains, but Gwangdu knew I had gone to capture Gwak Dosu.
“Master, you’re going to be the death of me.”
His eyes were indeed hollow. It seemed he hadn’t slept well, worrying about me.
“Don’t worry about me, you fool.”
“How can I not worry? I’d rather be sick than anxious. So, what happened? Did you really… catch him?”
I nodded firmly.
“I never leave debts unpaid.”
“Did you kill him?”
“Of course.”
Gwangdu covered his mouth, trembling. Save the shock and horror for when you hear that Gongjong, the head of the Gokbu branch, has gone missing.
“By the way, have you been diligently practicing your martial arts? Show me.”
“I was too busy worrying about you…”
With a hesitant expression, Gwangdu sat down and began his breathing exercises. I infused a bit of my energy to check if he was doing it correctly. Despite his complaints, he was following my instructions perfectly.
“Good. You’re doing well.”
“Really?”
Gwangdu beamed with joy. If I praised him any more, he might actually cry.
“Why are you so happy?”
“It’s the first time you’ve praised me since I started learning martial arts.”
“Don’t read too much into it.”
“No! This is an unforgettable moment for me.”
I suddenly thought of Baekpyo, my former bodyguard. He was a sentimental man, too, delighted by the first snowfall. It seems those closest to me have a sentimental side.
“Alright, I’ll teach you some techniques now.”
“Oh!”
Gwangdu was moved again. I had him bring the cheap sword he had bought. I thought I should get him a decent one soon.
I taught him three of the seven techniques of the Namhae Seven Styles first. Not for any particular reason, but because practicing just one would be boring, and more than four might confuse him.
“Once you’re familiar with these three, I’ll teach you the rest.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“Don’t sleep, just train. I’ll test you unexpectedly.”
“What if I die from overwork?”
“Lazy people never die from overwork.”
“What if I fall into a Qi deviation?”
“Only smart people fall into that.”
Gwangdu pouted, but I could sense his joy. He would probably train late into the night, sacrificing sleep.
Worried he might actually die from overwork? Not at all. Gwangdu is a smart kid. I realized that when he gathered information before. He has an instinct for sensing and avoiding danger. He’ll manage his training intensity well.
After teaching him the three techniques, I turned to leave when Gwangdu spoke up.
“Master, you’ve changed somehow.”
His perceptiveness was impressive. He noticed a change even my parents hadn’t.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure… but you seem calmer.”
He scrutinized my face, then suddenly exclaimed in shock.
“Gasp! Did you meet a woman while you were away? You did, didn’t you? You slept with her, right?”
I hadn’t even seen a woman.
I shrugged my shoulders, leaving him to wonder, and walked out. Behind me, Gwangdu shouted.
“Don’t betray Miss Song!”
You fool, betrayal requires trust in the first place.
“Focus on your training! Don’t betray yourself!”
The next day, the news I had been waiting for finally arrived.
Gwangdu came running, shouting.
“Master! Something terrible has happened! The leader of the Murim Alliance has passed away!”
Hearing about my own death from someone else was a strange feeling.
It had been a month and a half since I died. The delay in announcing it must mean they were struggling to choose a successor.
There must have been endless meetings, with the heads of various organizations engaged in intense political maneuvering. Their positions could be at risk depending on who became the new leader.
At least I was at peace knowing the martial world was calm. There were no internal or external forces immediately vying for control of the Murim Alliance.
“Really?”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“What kind of reaction were you expecting? Tears?”
“You should at least be surprised.”
“I am surprised.”
You have no idea how shocked I was. I never imagined I would die like that.
“The entire martial world is in chaos. Everyone with a mouth is talking about the leader. People are gathering in inns, causing a commotion. We should go see.”
Gwangdu tugged at my arm.
I pretended to be reluctant but was actually curious. I wanted to know what people were saying about my death.
The deceased leave behind various legacies. Some are glorified, some are vilified, and some are forgotten.
What about me?
Indeed, the nearby inns and marketplaces were abuzz with talk of me.
“How did he die? Was it an assassination?”
“No, they say he just died in his sleep.”
“Blessed, truly blessed.”
“Who will be the next leader?”
“That’s the question.”
“It’s worrisome. All sorts of people will be scrambling for the position.”
“Is there even a suitable candidate?”
“Not really. Cheonhajin held the position for too long.”
“True. Over thirty years.”
The comment about “holding the position for too long” stung a bit.
I thought I had dedicated my life to the martial world, only to be reduced to such a remark?
And not a single word of mourning for my death.
It felt like my life, lived for the martial world, was being entirely negated.
I wanted to smack them on the back of the head and say:
-You fools, I lived my life sleeplessly worrying about you!
Then again, I thought, isn’t the leader’s position one that naturally attracts criticism? People need to vent their frustrations somehow.
‘Go ahead, criticize all you want. If it helps you release your anger, so be it.’
The real villains wouldn’t be here badmouthing me. They’d be lurking in the shadows, like Yang Gicheol or Gongjong, consumed by their own ambitions.
At that moment, Gwangdu, sitting across from me, spoke up.
“What kind of person was the leader?”
Among everyone in this inn, you know best. Because I’m sitting right in front of you.
“Who knows.”
“It must be a great regret, dying as the leader.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it? Dying in the happiest position in the world. Ah! If it were me, I’d be too resentful to die!”
Happy?
Was I truly happy?
Everyone feared and revered me. I had loyal subordinates willing to die at my command, but there was an invisible wall between us. Even with Galsaryang, the chief military officer, I never shared deep conversations.
No one spoke to me sincerely.
Nor did I to them.
Baekpyo, my former bodyguard, was the most comfortable to be around, but even he couldn’t completely shake off the distance imposed by our roles. At least, that’s how he must have felt.
The loneliness of being above all.
I couldn’t say if I was happy, but I was certainly lonely.
“By the way, how is the next leader chosen?”
Gwangdu asked, and I shook my head.
“I don’t know.”
I couldn’t tell him, but I knew exactly how it worked.
If the leader had designated a successor, that person would take over.
Considering my age of seventy, my subordinates must have suggested appointing a successor, but they were all too cautious. I was still vigorous, and the issue of succession was a sensitive topic.
No one expected me to die. I was healthy, and my martial arts had reached their peak.
Without a designated successor, the heads of the top ten organizations within the Murim Alliance would gather to nominate candidates, and they would vote to choose the leader.
That’s how I was chosen. If the previous leader hadn’t been poisoned by the Black Path Thirteen Alliance, I might have lived freely in the martial world forever.
In any case, I later heard that all the heads of the ten organizations unanimously agreed to make me the leader. My skills were that renowned in the martial world.
Ultimately, the rules are just that—rules. Galsaryang’s influence would play a significant role. My direct subordinates, the most powerful among the ten organizations, would support him.
The problem is that there isn’t a strong candidate for the leader position.
The delay in announcing my death for a month and a half might be due to that reason.
Still, I was at ease because I trusted Galsaryang. He would lead the Murim Alliance well in my absence and choose an excellent successor.
“Master, let’s have a drink. A great elder of the martial world has passed. We should drink in his honor.”
Yes, you’re the only one.
“Alright, order the most expensive drink.”
“Do you have money?”
“Consider it a celebration of becoming a martial artist. You buy the first round.”
“With you saying that, how can I refuse… You’re so sly. Fine! I’ll buy the first round.”
Gwangdu called out to the innkeeper.
“Bring us some drinks! Something cheap and tasty!”
I laughed at Gwangdu.
Thank you.
For pouring a drink in honor of my death.
I slowly turned my head to look out the window, towards the distant Murim Alliance.
Galgunsa, make sure to choose a good leader.