Chapter 04 ….
Time flowed on, and Jeok Wigang turned eight years old.
The Samjae Fist he had practiced daily had reached its peak.
He had also mastered the art of controlling his strength perfectly.
Now, he could adjust his power with far greater precision than before.
However, in those three years, he had learned something troubling —
Jeok Wigang had no danjeon, the energy core that was the most vital part of any martial artist.
A person without a danjeon could never succeed the Jinmuh Gate.
The only consolation was that his younger sibling had been born —
someone who could carry on the clan’s lineage.
He had thought his parents’ attention would now turn entirely to his younger sibling,
but he had been wrong.
His parents still gave him the same love as always.
Even when they discovered he had no danjeon,
they comforted him with the warmest voices.
Jeok Wigang told his father,
that the next head of the clan should be his younger brother.
Though his father initially refused,
Jeok Wigang insisted that choosing an heir early
was the best way to prevent future strife.
In the end, because of Jeok Wigang’s persistence,
his younger brother, Jeok Woon, was officially named as the next successor.
Once the decision was set, Jeok Wigang felt relieved.
Being the heir was never what mattered to him.
What mattered most was the peace of his family.
But something felt strange.
He was now eight —
and yet nothing had happened.
Before his regression, he was taken in by the villagers at this exact age.
“What’s going on?
Did the timeline change when I returned?”
He couldn’t let his guard down, though.
Disaster could strike at any moment.
It was frustrating.
He needed information.
About the sect’s situation,
and whether or not they had enemies.
If he knew in advance, he could prepare.
But where could he get such information?
He turned to his personal guard, Taecheon.
“Hey, Taecheon. Where do people usually go to get information?”
“What kind of information do you mean, Young Master?”
“Just… things people are curious about. If I wanted to know something like that, where would I go?”
“If you’re curious about something, tell me, and I’ll find out for you.”
Jeok Wigang shook his head.
“No. This is something I need to find out myself.”
Taecheon nodded. He knew his young master’s temperament well —
once Jeok Wigang decided to do something himself, he always did it.
“There are people who sell information, Young Master.
If you pay them, they’ll tell you almost anything.
If you wish, I can take you to one.”
“Really? Then let’s go.”
“Please promise me one thing.”
“What is it?”
“They are not good people.
Something dangerous could happen.
So you must stay by my side at all times.”
“Got it.”
Taecheon led him to a shabby, dimly lit inn that was bigger than it looked.
They passed several tables and climbed to the third floor,
where a hunched old man was waiting.
“Heh heh. Judging by your clothes, you come from a wealthy family.
What brings you to such a humble place?”
Jeok Wigang went straight to the point.
“I want information on Jinmuh Gate.”
Taecheon’s eyes widened in surprise.
The old man grinned knowingly.
“Information on Jinmuh Gate, eh?
Wouldn’t it be faster to ask your bodyguard there?”
“Taecheon knows about the inside.
What I want to know is what’s happening outside the sect.”
“Outside, you say?”
“I want to know which sects or forces aren’t on good terms with Jinmuh Gate.”
“Hm. There are a few like that…”
“Tell me everything.”
The old man glanced at Taecheon, who gave a silent nod.
“Alright. The information fee is two taels of silver.”
Jeok Wigang took out two silver taels from his pouch and placed them on the table.
The old man pocketed them and stood up.
“Wait here. I’ll need a moment to prepare.
Hey, bring our guests some tea.”
He ordered his underling to serve tea and slipped out the back door.
Taecheon turned to Jeok Wigang.
“Why do you want information about the sect’s external enemies?”
“Because it’s my home. I have to protect it.”
“We will protect it, Young Master. You need not worry.”
Jeok Wigang looked up at him.
“Thanks. But I’ll protect it too —
my precious people.”
Then he added, smiling faintly,
“You’re one of those precious people, Taecheon. I’ll protect you, too.”
Taecheon smiled warmly.
“Your words alone are enough to honor me, Young Master.”
“I mean it.”
Taecheon just laughed softly.
He understood the boy’s heart — and would let him follow it.
It was, after all, part of growing up.
After a short wait, the old man returned and laid a sheet of paper on the table.
“Here, the information you asked for.”
Jeok Wigang immediately opened it and began to read.
Fortunately, there weren’t many names on it.
“Jinmuh Gate has done many righteous deeds,
so it has few enemies.
At most, there are a few sects that view it with envy,
but none are true adversaries.”
Then Jeok Wigang’s eyes caught one particular name —
“Guipoong Gate (龜風門)?”
“Ah! That one’s an exception.
A demonic sect that covets Jinmuh Gate’s territory.”
Jeok Wigang’s gaze turned icy cold.
Could it be them?
Were they the ones who took his parents from him in the previous life?
“Where is Guipoong Gate located?”
“That information costs extra, but since it’s your first visit,
I’ll tell you for free.
They’re situated at the base of Phoenix Ridge (Bonghwangnyeong).”
Jeok Wigang neatly folded the paper and tucked it into his robe, then stood to leave.
“Thank you for your patronage, Young Master.
If you ever need more information, come again anytime.”
He gave a nod and left with Taecheon following close behind.
As soon as they were gone, the old man’s face twisted into a sly grin.
He whispered into the empty air.
“Miryung.”
A man in black appeared silently from the shadows.
“I have a task for you.”
The man’s eyes sharpened.
“Follow the boy who just left.
If anything unusual happens, report to me immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once the masked man vanished,
the old man sipped the cold tea Jeok Wigang had left behind and chuckled.
“Well, well. It’s been a while since I felt this way.
Interesting. There’s something unusual about that kid —
not quite like a child.”
He smirked, like a child who had found a fascinating new toy.
“My instincts have never been wrong. Let’s see if they’re right this time.”
On their way back to Jinmuh Gate, Taecheon spoke in a surprised tone.
“I didn’t expect our sect to have any enemies.”
“They’re not enemies, exactly —
just people who see us as a thorn in their side.
The kind who’d pounce the moment they get the chance.”
“I was shocked to see Shingeok Gate on the list.
The sect master is on good terms with ours, and we often cooperate.”
“It’s not hatred. They probably just see us as a weaker sect —
one they could swallow if they felt like it.”
“It’s infuriating to think Jinmuh Gate is looked down upon like that.”
Jeok Wigang smiled faintly at Taecheon’s clenched fists.
He really was a loyal, upright man.
“I’ll protect the sect,” Jeok Wigang said.
“And I’ll make sure no one ever looks down on us again.”
“I’ll help you, Young Master.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s admirable, truly.
At such a young age, you already care so much for the clan.
I heard you even gave up your right as successor.”
“My brother will do better than me.
Besides, I don’t have a danjeon. I can’t cultivate internal energy.”
“There are masters who rule the world using external arts alone.”
“Yeah. That’s the path I’m taking.”
“You’ve chosen well. If you wish, I’ll help you with your training anytime.”
“Alright. I’ll ask if I need help.”
Taecheon smiled at his response — then suddenly realized something.
Jeok Wigang was only eight,
yet there was a maturity in him that didn’t fit his age.
He had forgotten he was speaking to a child at all.
How regrettable… if only he had a danjeon.
Then he remembered Jeok Wigang’s earlier words —
“I’ll protect you.”
He couldn’t help but smile again.
Even at such a young age, the boy already carried the heart of someone who wanted to protect others.
Taecheon looked at Jeok Wigang’s small back walking ahead and made a silent vow.
I’ll protect him for the rest of my life.
Without realizing it, Jeok Wigang had gained a loyal subordinate.
That night, after everyone had gone to bed,
Jeok Wigang slipped outside.
He was heading to Guipoong Gate.
He wanted to see with his own eyes what kind of sect they were.
And if they truly were the ones who destroyed Jinmuh Gate in his past life —
Then tonight, he would erase Guipoong Gate from the world.
Anyone who threatened his family’s happiness
— he would never let them live.
As he stepped out into the night,
a strange scent reached him.
A fragrance he had never smelled before.
He turned his head toward it.
Even in pitch darkness, Jeok Wigang could see as clearly as in daylight.
He could even make out details miles away.
And there, hidden in the shadows, he saw a masked man.
‘So, they’ve already started moving?’
He thought the man was a spy from Guipoong Gate —
watching Jinmuh Gate and reporting information.
If he caught that man, he might learn something.
Jeok Wigang’s body vanished in an instant.
The masked man who had been assigned to follow Jeok Wigang
looked around frantically when his target suddenly disappeared.
Then —
“Who are you?”
Jeok Wigang was standing right in front of him.
Startled, the man stumbled back, losing balance and falling from the tree —
but managed to twist his body mid-air and land on his feet.
He poured all his energy into his legs and sprinted away at full speed.
He was confident in his light-footed movement arts —
there was no way an eight-year-old boy could keep up.
‘When did he even get in front of me?’
It made no sense.
It felt… supernatural.
‘Maybe I’m seeing things from lack of sleep.’
He was getting old; his body wasn’t what it used to be.
‘Once this mission’s over, I’ll have to brew some tonic or something.’
Thinking that, he kept running until he reached the depths of the forest.
He stopped, sighing in relief.
“Ha… I must’ve overreacted. Running all this way from a kid…”
He shook his head in self-reproach and turned back toward Jinmuh Gate.
But the moment he did,
his eyes widened in horror.
“This… this can’t be…”
Jeok Wigang was standing right there.
Impossible.
He had run at full speed — and yet the boy had caught up.
Without even a drop of sweat on his face.
Jeok Wigang clasped his hands behind his back and walked toward him.
“Are you from Guipoong Gate?”
His tone was lazy, almost mocking —
not something you’d expect from an eight-year-old.
More like the sneer of a street thug.
“You’d better answer carefully.”
