Episode 57. Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder
The man, humiliated twice already, ground his teeth and chased after Won Seung.
If there was one thing Won Seung was confident in, it was his movement technique—but the man seemed even faster.
'Damn it... I really can't afford to slack off on my martial arts training!'
Won Seung made a vow as he ran.
Ever since leaving the mountain, he’d neglected his martial arts training. He’d kept up with the Clear Mind Art, his internal energy method, morning and night, but used his scholar disguise as an excuse to slack off on swordsmanship and hand-to-hand techniques.
Now, in this very moment, he bitterly regretted neglecting his training.
'If I can just make it to the main road...'
Surely, no one would dare kill someone in broad daylight on a busy street.
But Won Seung never made it to the main road. He was forced to stop.
Suddenly, the man leapt over a side wall and landed with a thud, blocking his path.
He’d chased Won Seung by cutting straight through someone else’s house.
Without hesitation, the man closed the distance in a flash and threw a punch at Won Seung’s face.
Even before the fist arrived, a fierce gust from the strike hit first.
Won Seung tried to retreat, but his way back was blocked by a wall.
"Gah!"
He hurriedly raised his left hand to block, but the punch was a feint.
The man’s left hand shot out like lightning, grabbing the hand holding the Monghon Powder.
Clearly, he wanted to neutralize the poison first, wary of what Won Seung was holding.
Won Seung popped the lid off the vial with his thumb and let it drop.
In the Flying Dagger Technique, if your wrist is grabbed, you drop your weapon and kick it to attack.
Won Seung improvised—he kicked the falling vial with his toe. As the man flinched, Won Seung twisted his captured hand and grabbed the man’s wrist instead.
The vial spun through the air, scattering Monghon Powder as it flew upward.
The man held his breath and tried to retreat, but Won Seung didn’t let go.
The man’s left hand stiffened like a blade, and suddenly his internal energy surged, trying to force its way into Won Seung’s palm.
With no other choice, Won Seung released him.
In that brief struggle for wrist control, the man’s eyes were glued to the vial scattering Monghon Powder.
He was definitely wary of poison.
Won Seung didn’t miss the opening—he whipped out a wasp stinger needle hidden behind his ear and threw it.
"Hup!"
Sensing something flying at him, the man instinctively leaned back, but the distance was too close and the needle was too fast.
He twisted his neck, but the needle still struck the side of his neck.
Thunk!
The Monghon Powder vial dropped between them, and at the same time, Won Seung darted back and drew the small knife his master had given him.
The man also retreated three steps, yanking the needle from his neck with his right hand.
The tip of the needle was yellowish—obviously coated with poison.
The man’s face twisted in anger. The fact that Won Seung could throw a needle like that meant he’d either trained in hidden weapons or was a master in his own right.
Won Seung was far more skilled than he’d expected. Still, he wasn’t the type to fall for cheap tricks.
He’d let his guard down because Won Seung looked like a bookish scholar, and now he’d been bloodied and poisoned for his trouble.
Grinding his teeth, the man gathered his internal energy and focused it on the spot where the needle had struck.
"Are you from the Tang Clan of Sichuan?"
Won Seung pointed his small knife and replied, "Don’t insult me by bringing up that pathetic clan in front of me!"
Won Seung’s mocking tone made the man’s anger boil over.
"You little bastard, I’m going to kill you!"
He hadn’t wanted to kill a kid, hoping to end things quietly, but now that things had gone sideways and he’d been outsmarted, his rage was uncontrollable.
Though Won Seung had managed to stab him with the needle, he knew he wasn’t out of danger yet and felt a growing sense of urgency.
No master would die from mere wasp venom.
'All I have left is the Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder.'
As Won Seung subtly shifted his foot outward, the man’s body tensed in response.
He really was a master—his eyes never left Won Seung’s, but he was acutely aware of every tiny movement from head to toe.
Won Seung started to open the cap of the small knife’s hidden compartment, then paused as a thought struck him.
'Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder is meant to be mixed into tea or food. It’s not much use for subduing him right now.'
Better save it as a last resort.
The man was getting desperate. Whatever the poison was, he needed to subdue Won Seung and get the antidote before it spread.
"Hmph!"
With a cold snort, he stepped forward.
Won Seung pointed at the man’s foot and said, "You don’t even bother to check what kind of poison was on that needle? You’re underestimating me. You just took your fourth step."
The man looked puzzled at Won Seung’s sudden words.
"If you take three more steps, you’ll die. You’ve been poisoned with the Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder."
"Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder!"
The man’s face changed instantly.
He rubbed the spot on his neck where the needle had struck. It was swelling and turning red.
The Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder was a legendary poison that had made the Poison Monster a figure of terror in Murim. Rumor had it that after seven steps, you’d die—but no one really knew what kind of poison it was.
Since the Poison Monster had disappeared, hardly anyone even knew the name. That’s why, when a young man like Won Seung mentioned it, it sounded all the more convincing.
'Could he be the Poison Monster’s disciple?'
Despair, confusion, and anxiety flickered in the man’s eyes.
Was he really going to die so pointlessly? That was the look he gave.
Won Seung sneered. "If you know about the Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder, you’re no ordinary nobody."
The man gathered his internal energy, but looked at Won Seung with disbelief.
"The Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder isn’t meant for use with needles, is it?"
'As expected, he’s no amateur.'
Every poison has its own method of use, and you have to follow it for it to be effective.
Some poisons, like Scattering Air Powder, are spread by wind, while others, like Monghon Powder or Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder, are mixed into food or drink.
"Heh. That’s why I spent years researching how to make it work on a needle. Sure, it’s not as potent, but I guarantee you’ll be dead in seven steps."
Won Seung lied shamelessly.
"Luckily, the needle didn’t go in too deep. But you don’t have time to stand around. If you don’t expel the poison right now, you’ll die."
With that, Won Seung turned and bolted.
"Follow me if you dare!"
The man was torn—he couldn’t be sure if it was true or not.
The Seven-Step Soul Severing Powder was a poison used by the Poison Monster at the height of his infamy, but even the man didn’t know exactly what it did. That made him hesitate.
He glared after the fleeing Won Seung, then sat down and began circulating his internal energy.
Only much later did he realize he’d been tricked.
"You bastard! I swear I’ll kill you!"
*
'I almost died back there.'
Back at the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, Won Seung reflected on his arrogance. He’d learned firsthand just how vast the world was and how many masters were out there.
Who would’ve thought a thug waiting in an alley would turn out to be a Peak Master?
In front of Won Seung was a pile of poisons he’d brought from the poison lab. If that guy chased him here, even a Peak Master would be melted to the bone.
Once his excitement faded, he realized just how much he’d neglected his martial arts training.
'Poison alone isn’t enough.'
Until now, Won Seung had considered himself above first-rate.
It wasn’t as if Instructor Jang or the other instructors had always been harsh. Sometimes, to encourage him, they’d say, "After ten years of training, you’ll become a first-rate expert!"
-Once you’re a first-rate expert, you’ll have nothing to fear!
-When you reach that level, you’ll rule Murim!
So he’d worked hard. Plus, with forty years’ worth of internal energy, he’d naturally thought of himself as a first-rate expert.
But what does that even mean? Being better than most, sure—but at the very least, you shouldn’t be at risk of dying in the street.
Yet he couldn’t stand up to that middle-aged man.
If he’d faced him head-on... he’d probably be lying dead in that alley with his neck broken.
'Ugh... Something’s wrong here.'
After ten years of rolling around in the mountains, he’d nearly died the moment he returned to the world. He wouldn’t have been able to rest in peace.
Trying to kill a stranger without even giving a reason...
Whether in the mountains or the world, things were just as dangerous.
At the same time, he grew curious about where his own skills actually stood in Murim.
'Master always said having deep internal energy was just like having a lot of firewood—if you meet a real master, it’s still dangerous... He was right.'
Thinking of the Poison Master, Won Seung grew solemn, then suddenly shouted,
"Jong Won-bo, you bastard. I’m not letting you off!"
Honestly, when he used the wasp stinger on Jong Won-bo, Won Seung hadn’t meant to kill him.
He’d known exactly where Jong Won-bo had applied the secret ointment, and he’d watched closely where the wasp stung. If it had really been a fatal spot, he would’ve cut open his throat and inserted a reed himself.
'I even went that far to spare him... and he sends an assassin after me?'
It must’ve cost a fortune to hire a master like that. That made Won Seung even angrier.
Of course, if Jong Won-bo heard this, he’d be speechless at the accusation, but Won Seung, fuming, vowed not to let him off.
But first...
He decided to figure out where he actually stood in Murim.
He called for Jong Bi.
"Teacher Song, where would you say our martial arts rank compared to the Murim average?"
"I’d say we’re first-rate," Jong Bi replied proudly. Clearly, he’d been brainwashed too.
Won Seung sighed and pressed further. "What exactly does ‘first-rate’ mean?"
Jong Bi hesitated, tilting his head. "Us?"
Hmm. Not helpful at all. And this guy’s been running around Murim for over two years...
Maybe it was a side effect of the Blood Drying Powder antidote? Jong Bi seemed to be getting dumber by the day.
Should I have left out the yam from the medicine? Medicine is tricky—interactions can lead to unexpected results.
No, that can’t be it. If the yam made Jong Bi stupid, the other kids in the mountains would be the same.
Jong Bi was probably just always a bit slow.
Thinking that, Won Seung asked, "Have you ever killed a first-rate expert?"
"Once?"
He didn’t sound very confident.
"A Peak Master?"
"Not yet..."
Faced with a string of tough questions, Jong Bi grew serious. "Peak Masters are really rare. That Descendant of the Yong Clan is a real monster. Honestly, even reaching first-rate at our age is almost unheard of. It’s the reward for ten years of hard training."
Fine. I know that much.
Won Seung sighed and handed over a document from the table.
"Take this to Gu Ja-ang and get the Heavenly Observation Pavilion leader’s signature."
"What is it?"
"A Three-way Martial Arts Duel Agreement."
"Oh! So there’s really going to be a duel?"
Jong Bi’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of watching masters fight.
"I’ll be right back!"
"And tell Teacher Oh to come in on your way out."
A little later, Ohgu came in.
"Teacher Oh, where would you say your skills rank compared to the Murim average?"
Ohgu thought for a moment, eyes wide, then replied, "I’m not sure about the Murim average, but in Xiangyang, I’d say I was among the top. No one in Xiangyang would dare look down on me."
"And what makes you say that?"
"I made a name for myself at the Heavenly Observation Pavilion. That’s why Gu Ja-ang kept me as his right-hand man."
"Hmm. So you’d call yourself first-rate?"
"I’d like to think so, but..."
Ohgu trailed off.