Chapter 22: Killing Karma
A secluded corner of the marketplace where the sewage of Beijing gathered and flowed.
A rough-looking man of the Black Path guarding the alley entrance looked at me in surprise and asked,
“What the hell? Who are you?”
“You bastard.”
A kick that doubled as a self-introduction, with no need for questions or answers.
The guy, kicked squarely in the chest, soared like a soccer ball and rolled away.
“What the hell is this guy? How’d you get in here?”
This time it was the gatekeeper guarding a shabby house who asked with a menacing tone.
“Like this, you bastard.”
Thwack!
Another questionless, explanation-free strike with the Hundred-Knot Divine Fist, sending the gatekeeper flying like a kite with its string cut.
Crash!
As the hefty body flew through, the flimsy wooden door of the house shattered with a loud bang.
The crack of splintering wood and the smashing of furniture.
“That must’ve hurt a bit.”
“My leg hurts more from kicking him.”
I felt no sympathy for the pain of child kidnappers.
I briefly responded to Ilhong and stared silently at the shattered entrance.
“Shit! What the hell!”
“Which bastard dares!”
Just like kicking a hornet’s nest, the Guanghae Faction thugs came pouring out.
Huge, savage punks swarmed to fill the doorway in an instant.
And when they noticed two tiny kids standing there, not even up to their chests, they looked dumbfounded.
“What the hell are these fucking little brats?”
“Hey, was this you guys’ doing?”
One of the Black Path men pointed at the tattered door and asked.
“…Boss. Isn’t this a bit too much?”
Ilhong tapped my arm worriedly, clearly not expecting this many Black Path men.
“Whoever you are, you both have pretty faces—should fetch a good price.”
“You dare act cocky in front of the Guanghae Faction?”
“We’ll show you hell, you little bastards.”
Couldn’t believe grown men were saying that to kids.
The Black Path men began closing in like a tightening net.
An overwhelming difference in numbers. But no matter how many they were, the space was limited. At most, eight could attack at once.
And Master Hwang Geolgae, who lovingly beat his disciple, once said:
“You’ll get surrounded a lot because of your shitty personality, so you’d better learn how to fend off attacks from all eight directions.”
In other words, he taught me the technique to deal with gang-ups.
“Boss, why are you suddenly quiet… don’t tell me we’re going to lose?”
Ilhong asked, voice filled with anxiety.
“We’ll win.”
I clenched my fist and declared briefly.
The Black Path men of the Guanghae Faction burst out laughing.
“This bastard says he’ll win?”
“What a fucking lunatic brat.”
“Maybe you’ll get your senses back after smelling incense?”
A vivid murderous aura poured out with the intent to destroy the arrogant brat in front of them.
If I were a normal kid, I’d be shriveling up in fear. But as the Heaven-Slaying Star, I felt like a fish returned to water.
The crimson aura that flared up around me gave away their killing techniques before they were unleashed.
And as a bloody mess seemed imminent, a red energy began to creep over my skin.
“Alright, I’ll break every limb you’ve got… Urgh!”
First strike, first victory.
Action faster than words. The guy at the front, still flapping his mouth, got struck in the chest and sent flying.
“You son of a bitch!”
“Kill him!”
The frenzied Black Path thugs charged in, chaotic and jumbled.
I rooted both feet to the ground and assumed the stance of the Hundred-Knot Divine Fist.
Endless days of being pummeled by a master at the peak of martial arts, my body bruised all over.
It was time to see the fruits of that training.
“Come, you bastards.”
Once, Hwang Geolgae had told me a story.
In Kaifeng, the base of the Beggars’ Union, there’s a unique sound that rings out every year on Boknal.
An event where anything that bites or kills people gets beaten with the Dog-Beating Staff.
And apparently, the sound of it is really satisfying.
Crack—!
“Quaaack!”
A punch filled with internal energy burst across the enemy’s cheek.
In the front yard of the house, the sounds were like dogs being beaten to death, echoing repeatedly.
Thud!
“Aaagh!”
My Dantian surged, sending energy coursing through my entire meridian system and into my limbs.
I could feel an overwhelming strength capable of breaking stone with my bare hands. My thoughts accelerated. The enemies’ killing intent crept in from all directions like a spiderweb.
My eyes and mind searched for openings, and my body dove into them, fists raining down on my enemies.
“This bastard knows martial arts—! Urgh!”
A fist flew like a flash of lightning. With power drawn from the waist, a single blow sent a skinny Black Path thug’s teeth flying as he collapsed.
It was like a choreographed scene from a kung fu film. Reckless amateurs, charging blindly with nothing but numbers and no sense of danger.
Fists and feet flew at me from every direction. I heard bones shattering, noses breaking, arms snapping, and screams ringing out.
“Aaagh!”
“Fuck! You damn rat-sized brat!”
It felt surreal. After taking hits from Hwang Geolgae’s thunderous punches, fighting these street thugs made the world feel like it was moving in slow motion.
Smack! Smack!
I deflected or redirected incoming strikes and countered with my own. I advanced, without retreat, against the tidal wave of enemies, striking, breaking, and smashing everything in my path.
Though even when I read their techniques, there were moments I couldn’t keep up and took a few hits.
“B-Boss!”
I just tanked the pain and counterattacked. That’s the manly way to fight, one only the Heaven-Slaying Star could pull off—someone who could survive even with a sword stuck in his gut.
“Eight Slashing Fists!”
Two fists, infused with internal energy, shot out like meteors and landed simultaneously in an enemy’s chest. The guy was lifted off the ground and slammed into the group behind him, knocking them over like bowling pins.
Crack!
The Spinning Ring Kick, sixth move, crushed the nasal bone and knocked the consciousness out with a single blow.
Punches flew at me from all directions like a hail of bullets, but neither their speed nor their pain came close to matching Hwang Geolgae’s.
Even as I blocked their clumsy strikes and stiff movements, I nearly chuckled at how laughably amateur they were.
I read all their attacks. That allowed me to keep injuries to a minimum while constantly taking them down.
After pulverizing more than ten of them—shattering bones and tearing flesh—the enemy began to waver, shocked to be losing to a kid.
“Shit! What the hell is that brat’s movement?!”
“Did someone from a famous sect send him?”
“Could it be because of the kidnapping incident?”
They had committed so many crimes that they began confusing themselves with wild assumptions.
Well, to raise a martial artist of this caliber at my age, only the Righteous Sects with access to Spiritual Elixirs and Secret Manuals could pull it off.
And it was common for such places to send new elites to crush Unorthodox Factions as a debut feat in the murim world.
“Look at that ghostlike footwork! You think you learn that on the street?!”
“Damn it! That’s why I said not to take just any request!”
One kid had flattened over a dozen gang members.
Faced with this absurd outcome, they started mistaking me for a promising young master raised by a prestigious clan.
Technically, I was born into one. Even if I was abandoned after being betrayed with nothing to show for it.
“Shit! I gotta survive!”
“...Hey! Where are you going?!”
Their misunderstandings snowballed, and signs of collapse began spreading through the demoralized crowd.
Some Black Path thugs who’d been watching quietly decided to flee, thinking things had gone too far.
“Are you crazy?! If they find out you ran, the big boss will kill you, bastards!”
“And if word gets out we lost to a brat, we’ll never work as Black Path thugs again!”
Panicked, some tried to call the runners back.
“Damn it! Whether it’s a broken jaw or not, it’s the same—we’re finished either way!”
One thug, who had his jaw shattered earlier by the Spinning Ring Kick, pointed at himself as he bolted.
His argument must’ve been convincing, because an awkward silence spread among the few remaining thugs.
They looked at each other in silence for a moment.
“Ah, fuck this!”
“Screw it, I’m out too!”
One runner turned into two, then three, and soon everyone was bailing together like it was a free-for-all retreat.
They had no real loyalty to begin with, so their collapse came in the blink of an eye.
Just like that, the entrance to the house emptied like the tide pulling out.
“Huff... huff...”
I finally let out the breath I’d been holding back to look cool.
The endless stream of enemies and attacks from all directions—if not for Hwang Geolgae’s lessons, I’d have had a much harder time.
I deflected what I could, tanked what I couldn’t, and counterattacked to finish them off decisively.
I threw dozens of punches and kicks like a storm, channeling every ounce of strength in my body. I crushed ribs, caved in noses, and shattered limbs.
Of course, unleashing that kind of superhuman strength as a kid came with a price.
Over 80% of my internal energy was gone. My once-reliable four years of cultivation were now dried up like a drought-stricken reservoir.
“Phew, guess I need to build more Good Karma.”
There’s a way to extend lifespan and increase internal energy at once.
By accumulating Good Karma, I could enhance the power of the Starfall Heart Cultivation Method and suppress the Evil Star, slowly siphoning off its power.
“...Boss, are you okay? Looked like you took a few hits. You’ve got a few injuries too.”
Ilhong, who’d tried to help and ended up getting hit himself, asked while rubbing his bruises.
“This is just a scratch.”
“Uh, your finger’s bent in the wrong direction...”
I snapped the finger back into place with a ‘crack’—it had twisted while deflecting a flying club.
Ilhong looked horrified at my manly recovery move.
“They’ve got marshmallow punches. Why doesn’t this hurt much?”
I meant it. A club had slammed into my shoulder, but it hurt less than Hwang Geolgae’s punches.
That old beggar could break your skull with just a flick. What kind of profound principle was hidden in his fists?
“...How can I get strong like you, Boss?”
Ilhong, who had just witnessed the legend of one kid sweeping an Unorthodox Faction, asked me.
“Eat lots of meat dumplings.”
I replied while dusting the dirt off my plain clothes.
Proper nutrition during growth spurts was essential. He was born with a delicate face—might as well grow up strong.
That’s what I was thinking as I confidently stepped through the wrecked entrance of the house.
Wham!
A club suddenly smacked me square in the face.
A blow so lacking in killing intent it must’ve been accidental.
“Why... why didn’t you die, you thick-headed bastard?!”
Looked like one of them had stayed hidden instead of running off earlier.
Hey, I don’t appreciate being called thick-headed. I immediately launched a palm strike and twisted his jaw to the right.
The Black Path thug collapsed, spitting out his teeth.
“...Boss, didn’t that hurt?”
“It hurt like hell.”
A thread-thin vein throbbed across my forehead. I wasn’t numb—I was just used to getting hit. Of course it hurt when someone swung a club at full force.
“So you’re human after all.”
“What, you thought I was a monster?”
Such beings only existed in stories back on Earth.
But this was a world of martial arts and spiritual beasts, so maybe monsters were real somewhere too.
I rubbed the sore spot and lifted the rag covering the entrance to step inside.
And then I saw what was inside the house.
“What the hell is this...”
Children were either tightly bound like criminals or huddled together with shackled feet like slaves.
Seemed they were trafficking humans regularly.
Unlike the warehouse where they’d kept beggars, this place even had well-dressed kids—probably to extort ransom money.
“The chivalry of the murim has truly hit rock bottom.”
What is martial arts? It’s about strength and chivalry.
But in this world, while strength was everywhere, chivalry was painfully rare.
Bastards in human form. If only I had the Dog-Beating Staff in my hands.
“Um, excuse me, who are you?”
“Please, help us!”
A bundle of Good Karma—no, the poor children—cried out for help. Their cheeks sunken, they looked like they’d suffered since being captured.
“Hold on. I’ll untie you.”
Lately, I felt like I’d been doing good deeds without getting paid.
Maybe that’s why I was stacking up so much Good Karma. I truly believed it would return to me as internal energy and lifespan.
“Ah, thank you so much!”
“I will definitely repay this grace. May I ask your name, young master?”
As I snapped off the bindings on their wrists and ankles, the children bowed deeply in gratitude.
I shrugged my shoulders and introduced myself.
“I’m Dan Mujin, a troubleshooter who can solve any problem. Spread the word, will you?”
People need to know I exist if I’m going to do business or take jobs. So I decided to focus on getting my name out there.
After promising to make my name known far and wide, the children began leaving the shabby house one by one.
With that many rescued, the publicity would definitely pay off.
Just as I was about to leave the building with a satisfied smile, imagining my name spreading across all of Beijing, I heard heavy footsteps approaching from outside.
A large man who looked like a bandit was striding toward the house.
“Huh?”
First he looked puzzled by the Black Path thugs strewn across the alley, then again at the ones unconscious near the entrance.
Finally, he spotted me standing proudly in the doorway as if I had caused all this, and let out a scoff.
“Came back to collect the kids’ belongings and the place is trashed? Hey, brat, you did this?”
The man had wrapped a leopard-patterned long robe around his waist like a mountain bandit.
He wore a large sword appropriate for his size, and his heavily built body and intimidating aura were anything but ordinary.
Ilhong, having recognized the man, nudged my arm and whispered his identity.
“Boss, that’s him! The Heaven-Violating Yin Fiend!”
Seemed like the head of this Guanghae Faction had arrived.
“You’ve got a pretty face, I’ll give you that… but after what you’ve done to this place, I can’t let you live and lose face.”
The man, called the Heaven-Violating Yin Fiend, reached for the sword hanging from his robe.
Shhhk.
The sound of a long, sharp blade being unsheathed into the world.
Before that blade, even my endurance wouldn’t mean much. Unless I wrapped myself in Enhanced Qi, one slash and I’d be bleeding out.
“Heh, I’ll at least cut off your face and sell it. There’s demand for that sort of thing.”
The Heaven-Violating Yin Fiend licked his lips, seeing a fortune in sight.
The moment he gripped his sword, an ominous energy filled the room. The bloodlust radiating from him was incomparable to the small fry I fought earlier.
A vivid red killing aura quickly filled the entire house. It was so intense that the Heaven-Slaying Star inside me stirred violently awake.
But then I saw something strange again. Not just the smoke-like bloodlust, but a black, ominous mass embedded deep within his body.
The exact opposite of the energy born from Good Karma within my Dantian.
I vaguely recalled Hwang Geolgae mentioning something like this before.
He said if someone continued to kill out of malice, such Killing Karma (殺業) would accumulate inside them.
And he had warned me—if he ever saw something like that inside me, he would cut off my head immediately.
“Ilhong, what exactly did that guy used to do?”
Even trembling from the pressure of the Killing Karma, Ilhong still managed to dig up information.
“Uh, the Heaven-Violating Yin Fiend... for money, he wouldn’t hesitate to kidnap or murder... he even has a history of multiple brutal killings, so... um... he’s kind of...”
“A piece of shit?”
“Yes, that’s the word.”
Ilhong nodded as if I’d nailed it.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
The Heaven-Violating Yin Fiend’s face froze cold as he spat curses, enraged that two brats were roasting him like a comedy skit.
“Alright then, I’ll make you beg for death, you little brats.”
A deeper, denser bloodlust erupted.
He advanced with sword in hand, each step creaking the wooden floorboards under his massive weight.
“...Boss, you’ve fought sword-wielding martial artists before, right?”
Ilhong asked nervously, feeling the sheer pressure of the moment.
“Guess I will today.”
“...”
There’s a first time for everything.
Retreat wasn’t an option—he blocked the only exit, and Ilhong didn’t know any Movement Arts, so escaping wasn’t feasible.
That left only one choice: fight. This was the kind of body born for such destiny, wasn’t it?
I gathered my internal energy and took the stance of the Hundred-Knot Divine Fist.
He was a piece of trash loaded with Killing Karma, so crushing him would probably earn me a mountain of Good Karma.
“Come at me, you son of a bitch.”
If I was going to step into the murim, sword fights were a given.
I curled a finger, inviting him forward.