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“Do not pretend that you are some meek, pathetic little girl when I can see that vicious mind working behind your eyes.” - The Blood Demon says, caressing her thoroughly beaten body with hands that were drenched in the blood of countless innocents mere moments ago.
Weak? Shy? She was anything but.
Number 27 was a diamond in a giant mine filled with coal. Such a precious gem of a girl, a prodigy far beyond her times.
“It’s such a shame.” - He murmured, fingers roaming carelessly, - “Such a shame.”
Many years ago, there were four masters who strove to be the greatest warriors on Earth.
However, the Blood Cult wanted to dominate the world of martial arts…
…so they set a trap to capture the four masters.
“Please, I beg you.” - An old, bearded man in sage-green robes trembled, hands clasped tightly on the hilt of his sword.
“F-father..” - His brave son stuttered, eyes desperately telling him no, telling him to leave the boy to die so that he himself could live; not once wavering at the blade that was pressed against his neck.
The man that held said blade smirked.
CLANG!
The father dropped his sword.
“Not my son…” - He begged, - “Please, spare my son…”
“N-NO! FATHER!”
The man grinned, victorious.
And that’s how the four masters ended up imprisoned in the Blood Cult’s dungeon.
An old bearded man, in sage green robes with well-calloused hands, has his wrists and ankles chained spread eagled on an X-shaped crucifix. Three others were beside him— a seething, muscular giant; a lean, nimble man and a woman who’s as lethal as she is beautiful— all with their ankles and wrists chained apart similarly.
She must’ve done something right in her past life, being able to see the four contenders for the title of Strongest Under the Heavens helpless and defeated like this.
“I want you to study their martial art techniques.” - Her master ordered.
“Yes, sir.” - Obediently, she nodded, before letting her eyes meet the death glares sent her way. She smirked a little, - “May I do it my way?”
Her master grinned, satisfied, - “Of course, I’ll give you ten years. Is that enough?”
“Plenty, sir.” - Her expression never changed, even as the muscular giant rattled his bindings in rage.
“I’m sure you’ll do a good job.” - Her master made his way to the gates of the prison, - “You are the Blood Cult’s top martial arts instructor, after all.”
Bowing, she murmured, - “I won’t disappoint you.”
THUD.
The metal gates closed.
She waits.
When her master didn’t reappear, she grins.
“You heard him. I’m your disciple now.” - A newfound gleam entered her eyes, so bright and full of life compared to the glassy, fish-like emptiness in them mere moments before. She turns towards the four, - “You’re going to tell me everything there is to know your martial art styles.”
“Like hell we will.” - The lean man grits his teeth, spitting at her feet as she passes, - “Fuck off.”
“I’ll kill you for this.” - She meets the eye of the white-haired woman a few strides in front of her, and finds a pair of icy steel irises glaring back.
“...”
She sighs, disappointed, but not surprised. “Then I guess you’re not interested in leaving this place, huh?”
“CUT THE CRAP!” - The giant shouts, furious, - “YOU THINK WE’RE JUST GOING TO LET YOU GET AWAY WITH THIS?!”
She tilts her head, meeting each of their angry gazes with a pissed-off look of her own, - “Do you really think my master would let me live once I’ve figured out the secrets behind your techniques?”
Judging by their shell-shocked silence, they really did.
“Of course not.” - She wants to laugh, she really does, but she wants to cry so much more, - “The reason why I was given this assignment is because I can’t use qi. Regardless, my master wouldn’t spare anyone…”
Her glare was filled with hate, with anger so pure there wasn’t anything else it could’ve been mistaken as.
“...who learned the secrets of supreme masters like you four.”
She proposed a deal with them.
“So I’ll give you a choice. What do you say?”
After some consideration, they agreed to work with her.
After that—
—ten years passed.
Cough.
“I should’ve known.” - She spat out a river of blood, panting heavily while applying pressure to the wound on her stomach, - “...That you planned to kill us all from the very start.”
“Ha…”
Blood drips like rainfall— down her hands, against the cave walls, everywhere.
“Let’s be honest.” - Her master steps forward.
She smiles, innocent and lovely, - “About what?”
“You never trusted me.” - The reply was light, airy, almost, - “Isn’t that the reason why, right now behind you— there is trash that should’ve been dead a long time ago?”
She flinches, startled.
Like her master said, those idiots of hers were right behind her.
The Bandit King, Maeng Ho-ak, with his seething glare and muscular torso full of scars, pounded his giant fists together in warning.
The Frozen Moon Goddess, Eun Yerin, with her deadly grace and piercing stare, gently placed a hand on her bloody shoulder.
The Berserker, Hyonwon Hu, with his humongous dao and enraged swings, blocked the next blow that came for her.
The Sword Saint, Moyong Hon, with his flowy white beard and crows feet eyes, retaliated with a swift blow from his blade.
“I know what kind of shape they’re in. I tortured them myself.” - Her master rolled his eyes, uncaring of the blood that’s being spilled or the four pissed off Masters in front of him, - “Even if they’ve recovered their martial art skills, it’s only temporary.”
He turned to her, voice as haughty and confident as ever, - “Stop being so arrogant and just accept your death. I’ll make good use of the martial art tomes that you left for me.”
“...”
She giggles.
‘He’s so stuck up…’
“Sure, go ahead and use it.” - She beams, mumbling to herself, - “That’ll teach you for being a prick.”
“What?”
‘You’re just digging yourself into a deeper hole, boss.’ - She snickers, - ‘Anyone who tries to copy exactly what’s written in the tome will die an agonizing death.’
“Oh, never mind,” - Wiping a tear from her eye, she exhaled softly, - “And there seems to be a misunderstanding. I didn’t learn four techniques.”
Lethal crimson aura flared around her, encapsulating the four Masters protectively at her command.
“I learned five.”
Her black hair bled into red as glowing streams of terrifying scarlet energy pulsed around them dangerously. Obsidian eyes turned vermillion, a wicked gleam to them as she witnessed her master’s desperate denials of her victory.
“T-that energy…! H-how did you—?”
The Heaven-Defying Divine Arts. Or you could call it by its nickname, the Divine Qi Blast.
“Only the Cult leader knows that technique…!”
She tilts her head, bored, - “I’m done talking to you.”
Sending a wave of divine qi towards her master’s soldiers, she dashed forward.
‘I haven’t fully mastered this technique yet,’ - Dodging the lightning bomb thrown their way, she brutally kicked the suicidal soul that tried to kill her, - ‘But as long as that motherfucking bastard doesn’t return, nobody can stop me!’
Twisting her body, she jumped, slamming her foot down onto the backs of the brainwashed assassins. Airborne, her fingers signaled their rebellion, - “Let’s go!”
Her four Masters smiled.
The blood cultists on the other hand, looked panicked. Her previous master shouts, rushing forward with the desperation of a dying man, - “KILL THEM!”
SLAM!
“Argh!”
“I’m not sparing any of you bastards.” - Master Ho-ak furiously grits, charging forward.
Panicked yells ensued around them, as she and her Masters cut through the Blood Cult’s ranks like a butcher’s knife through silken tofu.
“DON’T LET THEM GET AWAY!”
She rolled her eyes, and swiftly beheaded the twerp that dared to hope too much.
“As of today…” - Angry thunder shook the ground as Master Hu readied his blade, - “...THE BLOOD CULT IS OFFICIALLY FINISHED!”
‘Well damn.’ - She whistled, ducking from the poisoned dagger thrown her way as she admired the pile of bodies her Master created with a single blow, - ‘He really is pissed.’
“AGH!”
“AH!”
Screams of black-robed soldiers continue to vibrate throughout the cave, echoing the agonizing harmony of the War against the Blood Cult itself.
“Die!”
Before the daring soul that was a hooded, faceless, brainwashed henchman could act upon his declaration, he was unceremoniously frozen into a shiny ice sculpture with a flick of Master Yerin’s hands.
“How dare you.” - Frozen Moon Goddess whispered, deadly yin energy flowing like whips of pure elemental power at the tips of her fingers, - “You’re going to pay for humiliating me.”
Master Hu nodded with respect, turning back to face the wave of assassins swarming their way, - “We’ve still got a long way to go.”
“HYAH!”
She’s personally never heard Master Hon let out a battle cry quite so loud, especially not at his age. Quietly, she stifled her giggle, watching as her eldest Master cleared out the first wave all on his old, brittle-boned own.
“GET OUT OF MY WAY OR I’LL KILL YOU ALL!!” - As one, all five moved forward, with Master Ho-ak leading the second charge on their side.
Screams and pleas for mercy continued to reverberate throughout the prison cave, and steadily, they made their way out. She saw her former master frantically looking around, eyes tracking the slaughtered crowd for crimson hair and vermillion eyes.
“W-where did that bitch go…?”
“I heard you were looking for me?” - Before he could even grunt, she punched him with all the repressed rage she felt over the last twenty years, repeatedly acquainting his mug to the stony floor. It felt good getting even.
Suddenly, there was a prevalent shift in the air. She could feel the dot of immeasurably powerful qi making its way towards them, and soon enough, a shadowed figure with scarlet hair and demonically red eyes became visible.
“Damn it…” - Wiping the blood off her face, she signaled her Masters to use their last resort escape plan, - “There’s the Blood Demon himself.”
Outside this dark prison that all five of them were trapped in for a decade, was a forest brimming with life, completely oblivious to the carnage and gut-churning crimes committed within its peaceful boundaries. Its very floor and earthly foundations are trembling now, rumbling unnaturally to the explosive power of the Blood Demon’s Divine Qi Blast.
‘That day…’
BOOM!
A humongous explosion erupted from an innocent cave, bringing down with it an entire mountain range that had stood for thousands of years.
‘…was our last.’
“We all died.”
It was an unsung hero’s tale, a legend that went unrecorded and unknown to the rest of Murim.
If the Blood Cult had it their way, no one would know of this failure of a resistance.
That is, if not for her.
“Master! Wake up!”
“...”
“Are you napping again?!”
“...”
She slowly turned her head around. A small hand had grabbed her arm and was shaking it. Said small hand belonged to a brown-haired boy around ten years of age. Said boy was currently staring up at her with offensively huge and innocent puppy-dog eyes.
‘Hah..’ - Suryong stubbornly pretends to be dead, uncaring of the ‘unladylike’ image she’s showing, - ‘So troublesome…’
It backfired spectacularly, since the boy started sniffling and sounded like he was about to burst into tears, - “Master, hey, Master!”
Grumbling, she grudgingly rose from her slumber, - “What’s up?”
“Master!” - At least these village kids were educated properly, Suryong is sure she’d be dragged out of the divan and pulled towards the yard had she been a man, - “Everyone’s waiting for you out in the training grounds!”
“Today’s self-study day. There’s a ball over there. Go play soccer or monkey in the middle or something.”
“Again?!”
Yawning, - “Yes, again.”
“Yesterday was also a self-study day! And the day before!” - Would you look at that, the little shit is even pouting now, - “How are we going to learn martial arts if all we do is play every day?”
“What’s the point of you lot learning martial arts at all?” - Genuinely, answer her, she wants to know who gave this boy such grand delusions.
That seemed to be the end of the poor kid’s straw, - “If you keep doing this, then I’m gonna tell the Grandmaster!”
Oh, she takes back anything good she ever said about this brat’s manners, he clearly never heard of the phrase ‘Snitches get stitches’. For a good, delicious second, Suryong wanted to beat the little runt into a pulp.
‘Calm down, you cracked whackhead,’ - She mentally reminds herself, - ‘You’re not there anymore. The kid’s not gonna die if you don’t produce results.’
Suryong sighs, cursing herself for being weak to teary-eyed brats and their pudgy, pouting baby faces, - “Okay, okay, I get it. Let's go.”
“Hurry up!”
The boy grabbed her hand and hurried her along to the training plaza where the other kids were waiting. There, the little brats stared at her with bright, sparkling eyes; each and every single one of them dressed up in the uniform robes that the school had provided them with.
“Master! Please teach us martial arts!”
Suryong sighs again, - “Alright, listen up you little shits, we’ll start with lower body training…”
Looking at the sniveling brats, she scratched her head, and stared at the signboard hung near the door.
[Hundred* Martial Arts Academy]
*The hanja for hundred (百) sounds the same as Suryong’s last name Baek (白, white).
The idea was that they teach a hundred different martial arts, hence the name. She couldn’t care less about it, honestly, she’s already had her fill of teaching for a lifetime.
‘Come to think of it, it’s already been a month since I woke up in this body, huh?’
About a month ago, Number 27, the greatest martial arts instructor of the Blood Cult, died and woke up in the body of a young female martial arts instructor of a small academy in the sticks, an existence even more miniscule than the chance of stumbling upon a first-class warrior out in the wild.
Baek Suryong, that was the name of her current body.
The times may have advanced in the Central Plains and the Capitals of Murim, but the standards of tradition set by dead sexist bastards still exist. Girls and women are nearly always encouraged to find their matches and settle, not fight and battle.
Thankfully, her body’s Dad wasn’t one of those conservative assholes that insist on upholding backwards traditions. If anything, he was protective as hell and frequently encouraged his daughter to use any means necessary to fend off stalkers and harassers. Number 27 remembered being extremely impressed with the devious collection of paralytic poisons, knockout drugs and self-defense manuals (mostly focused on expelling an undeserving moron of his manhood) stashed in Suryong’s room.
The girl was born with an extremely rare meridian disease that nearly killed her a few times. Suryong’s mother was also quite frail, dying as soon as her daughter weaned off breast milk. Her Dad, Baek Muheun, was determined to save his only child, consulting all the best doctors and giving Suryong all kinds of herbal medicines.
Evidently, nothing worked.
“Tuck your arm in a bit more, Jang-Yi, and hold it there.” - Suryong instructed, firmly fixing the boy’s arm position before turning to the rest of the brats, - “Mihua, widen your stance. Yang-liu, straighten your back. Sion, relax your shoulders, kid, we’re not in the military…”
Eventually, Baek Muhuen moved to the countryside and started a martial arts school, hoping that the clean water and fresh air would be beneficial to his daughter’s health.
‘But it was all in vain.’ - Suryong muses, willing her arm to not tremble as she demonstrates a basic kata for the children, - ‘She would be dead in a few years anyway.’
Baek Suryong was a brilliantly bright girl, and an even more ambitious dreamer. From her study room packed with advanced books with just about every subject under the sun, it’s safe to say that whatever she was curious about, she learned everything about it.
Nothing fascinated this body’s owner more than martial arts— half of past-Suryong’s personal library was filled with manuals ranging from martial technique textbooks used in the Five Great Academies to ancient recipes for repulsively bitter medicinal qi pills that were practically falling apart. The girl apparently gained so much knowledge on martial arts and Murim through the sheer volume of shit she read that not even the brattiest little pipsqueaks protested when Dad assigned her to teach the Women’s Self-Defence class and the Children’s Martial Arts class.
It was a fool’s guess as to why Baek Suryong wanted to enter jianghu.
Besides working as an instructor, past-Suryong also trained everyday, but with her illness, her body acted as if she didn’t bother to leave bed in the first place. The woman had buried herself in countless books and texts, desperately searching for a cure to her own meridian disease.
Finally, a few months ago, Baek Suryong got her grubby hands on a certain qi cultivation technique.
‘I still can't believe that girl was stupid enough to attempt learning a demonic martial technique with a body like this.’ - Suryong mused, happily telling her class of baby imps to start running laps around the courtyard.
Demonic Arts.
Although not all demonic martial arts are detrimental to the practitioner, they all have significant side effects. Unfortunately for her, the one Baek Suryong found was a shit-tier martial technique that was extremely harmful to the user’s body.
Thus, in the end, while trying to circulate her qi by force, Baek Suryong coughed up her entire gut’s worth of blood and collapsed.
…Well, in fact, she died.
When she resolved to learn the demonic art, that woman was already prepared to die for her dream.
[I'd rather die trying than give up on my lifelong dream.]
Those were the words written on a bloodstained will next to where Baek Suryong died. After that, she woke up in this woman’s body, pretending to lose all her memories and living out her life for the past month.
Oh, and apparently, the Blood Cult collapsed decades ago.
—
“Daughter, please try to give me an excuse…”
“Why? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Earlier, Mr. Jang, the owner of the cloth shop, came to visit. His second son, a disciple at our academy, went home exhausted from doing squats.”
“So? What's the problem?” - She shamelessly raised her voice, saying, - “When learning martial arts, one must be prepared to endure a lot of physical and mental pain. I trained those kids hard so that their parents wouldn't feel like their money was being wasted. As thanks for my efforts, Mr. Jang should be sending me silks instead.”
“Why, you little!”
WACK!
“Do you not have a conscience?! What moron would treat ten year olds like they would actual martial arts disciples?!”
“Me!”
THUMP!
“Don’t sound so proud you little shi—”
“Aren’t you ashamed of beating up your only child, Dad? Your only daughter at that?”
BAM!
“I would be if you aren’t such a fucking menance to society!”
One of the things Suryong got into a habit of doing was inspecting her body daily. Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, she took off her undershirt to inspect her torso.
This body belonged to a spoiled brat that hadn’t experienced any suffering besides her incurable illness, sheltered as she was by her loving father.
Suryong was on the taller side for a woman, taking after her Dad, but her height would be rather average if she had been a man. While past-Suryong was thinner than now-Suryong would’ve liked (which she promptly supplemented by eating full, regular meals), her body’s build was very forgiving in its androgyny.
‘If not for the blocked meridians disease, this body is extremely suited to martial arts. However, in addition to the problems caused by the disease, my blood is filled with contaminated qi from the demonic technique that killed this woman.’ - Twisting her body, Suryong took a look at her back, noting gleefully that she had developed a healthy waist handle, - ‘But there’s another thing…’
Alas, there was one big flaw— Baek Suryong possessed a face that could bring down dynasties. It doesn’t matter if you thought you were straight or prefer another sex; this brat’s mug transcends sexuality.
Okay, that might be a stretch; but the thing is, Suryong was undeniably attractive. Her face wasn’t strictly beautiful or handsome; there were features that could be considered both. Strong jawline, long lashes, thin but plump lips, doe-like eyes— no wonder her Dad was insistent on her keeping poison needles on her person at all times.
There is nothing wrong with being this pretty, but for someone who doesn’t want to be noticed, it will bring in more trouble than what it’s worth. On the other hand, from a stealth standpoint, being androgynous and attractive was extremely valuable.
‘Haizza, enough of that.’ - Waving that thought away, Suryong reached for the clean rolls of cloth she set aside earlier, wrapping it around her chest for stability, - ‘…I wonder if this is a simple coincidence, or if it was a quirk of fate. It just had to be the Heavenly Yin Severed Meridians.’
She knew very well the name of the disease that Baek Suryong suffered from.
The Heavenly Yin Severed Meridians.
It was a name that most physicians in the world had never heard of.
Even if they knew of it, they considered it an untreatable disease that would kill the patient before the age of thirty. Suryong looked at the reflection of the young woman in the mirror and clicked her tongue.
‘You knew that you did not have much longer to live. Is that why you decided to take a gamble?’
Unfortunately, Baek Suryong lost the gamble and died.
Fortunately, she knew how to treat this disease.
The Heaven Defying Divine Art (also known as the Divine Qi Blast) was the key. It was a top-level martial art that was only taught to the Cult Leaders of the Blood Demon Cult, and among the five top-level martial arts she learned, she considered it to be the best one.
So why, exactly, is the Divine Qi Blast so important to this body’s recovery? Here are three lines for your convenience, taken from the rotten manual that Number 27 had learned said technique from:
- The Heavenly Yin Severed Meridians is a body cursed by the heavens.
- The Heaven Defying Divine Art is a martial art that defies the heavens.
- When the two meet, the Blood Meridians will transform into the Divine Meridians, giving one the strength to destroy the heavens.
Simply put, a body with this specific disease is the best to learn the Heaven Defying Divine Arts. The reason? The first Blood Demon, the guy that made this fancily-named martial technique, had this exact illness.
Placing a hand on her heart, Suryong said her first and last prayer to the woman that had sacrificed her own soul for a chance at living, - “Thank you for this opportunity. I’ll use this body well.”
Before she could even start thinking of ways to get a shitton of money to start her recovery journey, a scream echoed at the gates.
“Master Baek! Please help!”
Curse her luck. Suryong could feel herself getting dragged into a troublesome situation.
She fucking called it.
Suryong was indeed dragged into a troublesome situation.
The cloth merchant brought his eldest son, Jang-Il, in for emergency first aid; while his second son Jang-Yi tearfully trailed behind.
For some reason, Jang-Yi had chosen Suryong’s shoulder as the final destination for his upset brat fluids— sobbing hysterically about how his hyung-nim had gotten beaten up by that bastard Yang Sam from the Jin Academy down the road.
“That thug picked a fight with my hyung-nim! Hyung-nim didn't want to fight back, but then that bastard insulted Master Suryong, me, and even my parents…” - Jang-Yi yelled, uncaring of the irreparable damage he’s doing to her poor ears. Someone should really give Suryong an award for not throwing this little imp out the door; he’s already ruined her favorite ru with his snot.
Glancing at poor Jang-Il’s wounds, Suryong patted Jang-Yi’s back and asked her brat of a student, - “Did Yang Sam do this to Jang-Il by himself?”``
“Y-yes…”
“Hmm..” - From his deep frown, it seems like Dad had reached the same conclusion as she did.
Yang Sam used a lethal technique on Jang-Il. A little more force and the child would have become crippled for life.
“It’s just a kids’ fight. As long as my son is okay, I’m content,” - Mr. Jang said, not wanting to blow things up.
Really, what a simple-minded country bumpkin. His own son was beaten to a pulp, and he's worrying about whether or not a couple of murim warriors will get into a fight.
In short, Dad told Mr. Jang that he’ll talk to the Director of the Jin Academy about this incident.
“Don’t worry, it’ll just be a warning. Now go home and rest, my daughter and I will take care of Jang-Il until we can move him to the village doctor’s home tomorrow.”
Funnily enough, Jang-Yi was the only one who had the right idea. The sniveling brat mumbled something about taking revenge for his brother, but his father had grabbed him by the ear and dragged him off.
Suryong doesn’t think everything will end with ‘just a warning’, but hey, what could she do? Dad believes that he could solve the issue peacefully, but she had a feeling that things would not work out the way he imagined.
It’s morning now, and does anyone want to take a wild guess as to where she is?
Yes! That’s right! Suryong is standing in the courtyard of Jin Academy, watching as her Dad is being verbally herded into a corner by the fraud that claims to be from the powerful Namgung Clan.
One glance at the way the giant walked told Suryong everything she needed to know about him: his martial arts skills, his physical constitution, his bad fighting habits, and how much qi he had. After all, Number 27 was an instructor in the Blood Demon Cult, and not only has she taught a countless number of disciples, she’s also observed a lot of masters.
Her experience told her that this giant was at most a second-class warrior. However, the thing with this guy that got to her is…
“Last night, a student at our academy was badly injured in a fight with one of your students.” - Dad sternly stated.
“It’s just a kids’ fight. Why so serious?” - The giant replied, the one that boasted his name as Namgung Wook. He then stuck a finger in his ear and began digging out his earwax.
‘The fucking audacity, really…’
“…The wounds that Jang-Il sustained were too severe for it to be a mere kids’ fight.”
“He’s a guy. When guys fight, it’s only natural to get hurt. Real men don't squeal like petty little girls and make a fuss about something so minor, do they?” - Namgung Wook mocked.
‘Did this motherfucker just call Dad a fussy little girl? In front of me?’
Suryong's father, the saint, calmly rebutted, - “I don't know if you're teaching children martial arts in order to turn them into ‘real men’, but I teach them martial arts so that they will grow up healthily, and learn to protect themselves from bandits. Most importantly, I never teach my students how to kill people.”
At some point between Dad telling Yang Sam that he nearly killed Jang-Il, Yang Sam squealing about how that was a legitimate duel between two boys and Namgung Wook blowing air into everyone’s ears about how ‘The disciple only lost because his teacher was shit’— a crowd had gathered.
‘It was a trap.’ - Suryong muses, - ‘Dad’s honor will be ruined no matter what he did. If he backs down, he’ll be seen as a coward; and if he beats a living daylights out of this bastard, Dad will be seen as a small-minded man that gets upset about a fight between children.’
Namgung Wook must have ordered Yang Sam to attack Jang-Il in order to force Dad into taking action, and when Dad showed up in the Jin Academy, he planned to provoke and embarrass Dad in front of everyone in the village.
‘I’ll bet my grandmother’s grave that this fraud's last name is not Namgung.’ - Suryong rolled her eyes.
Once things get to this point, it won't matter whether Dad wins the fight or not. His public image will be in shambles.
As if sensing his opportunity, a man with a goatee, who had been standing next to Namgung Wook, suddenly shouted to the audience, - “Hmm? It seems that everyone here is still unaware of the facts. I'll have you all know that this man here is Grandmaster Namgung Wook, a distant relative of Namgung Jaehak, the Azure Sky Sword King and Star Instructor at the Heavenly Martial Academy. You're all looking at a true descendant of the esteemed Namgung Clan!”
‘Ah, so he’s the actual mastermind.’ - She laughed quietly, - ‘Here I was, feeling a teeny bit guilty for assuming that the fakeass bandit couldn’t have dreamed up a scheme like this.’
Anywho, they have Dad cornered. Nothing Baek Muheun says will be able to save him.
But, but, but! It’s a different story if Suryong steps in.
“If the director is a descendant of the Namgung Family, does that mean that the martial arts you teach at the Jin Academy are also those of the Namgung Clan?”
Namgung Wook and Goatee turned to her, twin expressions on their faces asking ‘where the fuck did a brat like you come from?’.
Suryong pretended to shrink back and timidly asked, - “I've never seen the martial arts of the Five Great Clans before… Is the Jin Academy really teaching the Namgung Clan's martial arts?”
It was a struggle to put on her best country bumpkin expression without laughing, but she managed.
Grinning nervously, she shrugged, - “I mean, that's exactly what you're telling us, right? I understand if you're not teaching the core martial arts of the Namgung Clan, but at least, you must be teaching the basic moves…?”
The crowd immediately chimed in, chattering their agreements and giving a shit load of undeserving compliments to the Jin Academy.
Goatee had enough sense to understand that the conversation is being steered into an undesirable direction for them, but the Namgung fraud and the Jin Academy students started puffing out their chests in pride.
‘Not for long.’
She starts rambling before Goatee could open his mouth.
“Wow! So that's how Yang Sam improved so much in just a few months! The Namgung Clan's martial arts must be super strong!” - Suryong upped the ante, bringing as much doe-eyed innocence into her act of admiration as possible, and blabbed so loud she might as well be yelling an Imperial Decree to the next town over - “I’d never thought I’d be able to witness the martial arts from the greatest of the Five Great Clans with my own eyes! It’s amazing!”
Dad looked like he was about to interrupt her (frankly spectacular) performance, so Suryong prematurely shut him up with a wink.
The fraud laughed, pleased beyond measure, - “Your daughter has great eyes, Master Baek! Oi girl, if that stuffy little Academy your Daddy runs ever bores you, you’re more than welcome to come here and learn the right moves from the real men!”
‘If I wasn’t already planning on humiliating you for trying to drag Dad’s reputation through the mud, I’ll ruin your life for spouting such bullshit in front of me.’ - She inwardly seethed, but beamed excitedly on the outside like everyone assumed she would, - ‘Though, who’s to say I can’t do both?’
“Really?! You will?! Can I learn the killing techniques in the Namgung Clan's martial arts, too? Jang-Il was hurt by a killing intent so strong, I thought that he was attacked with demonic arts!”
“…What?”
Namgung Wook and Goatee stiffened, and the smiles on the faces of the Jin Academy brats vanished.
“Hey, little girl, you better watch that pretty mouth of yours.” - Namgung Wook’s face twisted into an expression befitting that of a demon, - “Don’t try to stir up gossip just because your father got pissy about his student’s loss. Did you even hear what you just said?”
“I’ll say it again, if it really took that long for your thick head to absorb my words. I said, ‘I thought that he was attacked with demonic arts.’” - Suryong mockingly teased, and announced loudly to everyone present, - “Am I wrong? It’s a well known fact that practitioners of the demonic martial arts techniques improve rapidly, but suffer agonizing side effects, physical and mental, as karma for attempting to go against the Heavens.”
She continued, not even letting the fakeass stutter a panicked denial, - “Your students had learned martial arts from you for about half a year already. Isn’t that plenty of time for the tell-tale signs to kick in? Unexplained, increased aggression; irregular pain strokes that steadily get worse; bloodshot eyes; easily bruised skin; doing irrational and unreasonable actions that they would’ve never done before— Does it sound familiar?”
The relatives, neighbors and friends of a few Jin Academy disciples murmured amongst each other, some even outright palling.
As for the little nuisances, their faces were an interesting mixture of puke-green and puce. The newer ones were visibly asking themselves whether or not they really had those symptoms, and promptly turned white when they collectively realised that yes, they really were learning demonic arts.
“S-S-Shut up!”
‘Really, learn to at least control your ugly mug, you pretender. Your panic is as obvious to everyone as the sky is blue.’
The hushed whispers and speculating voices were getting louder, and really, Suryong should be given a fucking medal for being able to hold back her evil grin until now.
“Ah, silly little me, I apologize for my slip of tongue. You two couldn't possibly have taught demonic arts while borrowing the name of the Namgung Clan, right? That would simply be absurd!”
She was laying it thick, but it got the point across.
Inherently, there isn’t a difference between a ‘Demonic’ martial technique and an ‘Orthodox’ martial technique. At their core, they were just movements certain people tend to use in combat, with varying degrees of success.
But the general masses don't know that, now do they?
There is only one power in the world that could cause even the Emperor to fall into ruins— and it’s this thing called public image.
After all, what is a king to a horde of angry humans willing to do anything to ensure this very specific asshole who happens to wear a fancy hat gets beaten to death? A king is a man, a man who can only do so much if even his army rebelled against him.
Namgung Wook and Goatee aren’t kings, not by a long shot, but that doesn’t mean that the miraculous power of peer pressure and public opinion won’t work just as well.
“Anywho, is it okay if I brag about the Namgung Clan's amazing martial arts to everyone I meet? I'll even write a letter to the Murim Alliance recommending your academy.”
Both Goatee and Namgung Wook’s faces immediately drained of color.
Suryong giggled.
She knows she will savor their expressions for years to come.
‘Impersonation of a member of a prestigious family is a fairly common crime, but if the impersonator is teaching Demonic Arts in their name?’ - Suryong mused, - ‘Prison will be the least of their worries.’
“Hmm? Master Namgung Wook? Why do you look so constipated?” - Her impish grin was evilly wide, - “Do you need to use your secondary opening?”
“Y-you bitch!” - The fraud grinds his teeth in frustration, but really, the only thing that does is reveal how embarrassed and flustered he is, - “Why would you try and drag the Murim Alliance into a petty squabble between two village boys?”
“I think you misunderstood what I said, Mr. Nam-gung.” - Suryong deliberately pronounce each syllable sarcastically, blinking innocently at the pissed face of the fraudulent bandit, - “I just wanted to brag about how there was a master warrior of the great Namgung Clan here at our humble village, nothing wrong with that, right? The bit about demonic arts was a light hearted prank— I mean, can’t you take such an obvious joke?”
Despite the admission, everyone and their mother knew Suryong was dead serious with her accusations. This was the woman whose obsession and knowledge of martial arts was as well known as her frail health, the woman who begged her father to create a free self defence class for the village women and taught them herself.
If there was anyone in this village in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere who would know demonic arts at a glance and would righteously stand up against it, it was Baek Suryong.
Namgung Wook knew it, Goatee knew it, the crowd knew it, and her Dad obviously knew it.
“You were going way too far with that joke!”
“Sigh… I doubt the Murim Alliance would kill you guys over a joke, though?”
“YOU…!”
[Suryong, are you sure they’re teaching demonic arts?]
“Here, let me explain,” - She continued nonchalantly, nodding towards her Dad’s direction in response to his telepathic message, - “Seeing as the Namgung Clan is a part of the Murim Alliance, they'll probably contact the Namgung Clan once I send them my recommendation. I'm certain the Namgung Clan will be delighted to hear that the Amazing Master Namgung Wook has opened a martial arts academy in our village, and will send us a heap of congratulatory flowers. In addition, it would be great if they sent someone to verify Yang Sam's incredible martial arts talent… Wouldn’t that be amazing for our village’s renown?”
‘Sarcasm. Sarcasm. Anddddd sarcasm.’
Not a single bit of what she just said was genuine.
And everyone knew it.
The imposter was red in the face, bellowing, - “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!”
Which, obviously, didn’t do him any favors with the audience.
“Hey, what was the meaning of all that?”
“It seems that Master Namgung is actually a swindler.”
“Teaching demonic arts, who would’ve thought?”
“I’m pulling my child out of the Jin Academy as soon as I get home.”
“Hey, someone send a missive to the Murim Alliance, these two need to be locked up for scamming us and endangering our children.”
“Agreed…”
Anyone with ears could hear tension crackling within. The situation was getting tenser by the minute, and those itching to spectate a good fight knew it’ll be any moment now.
As for Namgung Wook and Goatee, they looked like they were a breath away from brutally torturing her, and then sending her to King Yeomra by snapping her neck.
Suryong merely smiled back, bright blue eyes daring them to make a move.
Finally, Goatee spoke, - “Young lady, can you take responsibility for your accusations?”
“When have I ever done that, Elder?”
“You claimed that we were teaching demonic arts while impersonating members of the Namgung Clan. Have you ever thought about what would happen to you if you were discovered falsely accusing innocent people without any evidence?” - He was smart, trying to play off her projected image— one of an innocent, ignorant village girl, - “Young lady, do you truly understand the dangers of spreading fake news in the jianghu? The Namgung Clan will never forgive you for damaging their reputation.”
Goatee was right about that, of course. If those rumors got out, and Suryong turned out to be wrong— she’d be in deep shit for slandering such a prestigious and honorable family.
Had she been even the tiniest bit uncertain of her deduction, Goatee would immediately leverage it and poke at that crack.
Goatee turned to face Dad and clasped his hands together in a fist salute, saying, - “Director Baek, it would seem that all of us have gotten a little too emotional today. Instead of continuing this pointless argument, why don't we resolve this dispute another day?”
But Suryong’s arguments and reasoning was as solid as a stone wall, so his only option was to invoke that doubt himself.
‘Had I been anyone else, he would’ve won. We don’t have any evidence besides the circumstantial outbursts of the village children under their tutoring and the two-sided backing of the people in this crowd, and he knows it. No judge would accept it, no legal counsel would even take the case if it would come to that point.’
Violent and aggressive orthodox techniques and more subtle and passive unorthodox techniques were nearly indistinguishable from each other. However, Suryong has been trudging the deepest waters of the Unorthodox for longer than Goatee’s been alive.
She’s already clocked that Goatee, Namgung Wook and their disciples were using Demonic Arts after laying eyes on them for less than twenty seconds. Really, if they wanted to stay hidden for a bit longer, they could’ve at least tried to fix their twitching muscles and other subconscious ticks.
‘It’s your unlucky day, you bastard. You met me.’
“Pfft! Did you honestly think a threat like that would be enough to scare me away?”
“Young lady, you…”
“Do you evil sect bastards know how to spout anything besides nonsense?”
‘Technically I’m also an evil sect bastard, but no one needs to know that.’
Casually, Suryong strode forward, catching Dad’s eye and glanced at Namgung Wook subtly. Baek Muheun’s returning nod was miniscule.
“So, where are you guys really from? You started up a martial arts academy in a remote location and pretended to be instructors because you wanted to secretly expand your faction, am I right?” - Of course she’s right, it was one of the most common ways unorthodox sects use to recruit disciples. Number 27 was heavily involved with the expansion of the Blood Cult through this method during her first few years on the field.
“Hah…” - Goatee sighed exasperatedly, like he realized he was just caught by a child. But something in the air immediately changed, and Goatee started laughing maniacally.
His hunched back straightened, and muscles started bulging out from his thin body. In an instant, he had transformed from a skinny scholar into a muscular giant.
‘So he was using a body morphing art.’ - Suryong thought, completely ignoring the chaos that erupted around her as she yawned, - ‘Though, that won’t make much of a difference.’
It’s nearly noon, and she hasn’t had anything to eat since dawn. All she wanted to do was gobble down her lunch and knock herself out on the divan in the backyard.
The now powerfully-built Goatee stared down at Suryong like he was about to swallow her alive. His physical appearance was completely different from before, except for his very characteristic goatee.
“I thought that you were making a wild guess, but it seems that I was wrong about you. How did you know who we were?”
“That’s a trade secret, you marble-head for brains.”
Judging by his aura, Goatee should be a weaker first class warrior. In rural areas such as this village, first classes— weak or no— were rarer than wild ginseng.
Yet, standing before him was an even rare existence— a female martial arts instructor, and a damn good one at that.
As if he couldn't be bothered hiding his identity any longer, Goatee directed a wave of killing intent at her. He stomped his foot, making a crater on the poor ground, and a burst of threatening aura surrounded the courtyard.
To the side, Dad was busy having a one-sided duel with Namgung Wook, and the crowd was begging the Jin Academy kids (the little shits blocked the gate) to let them out.
“Haizaa…” - Suryong sighs, - “You owe me an entire morning of my life for dealing with you.”
“You fucking bitch.” - Goatee’s eye twitched, - “I’ll enjoy ripping away your confidence and killing you.”
On the surface, Goatee already won. After all, he was a first class expert, and Suryong was a brat with qi weaker than even a third-class warrior. Even if they fought a hundred times, he would win every single time.
However, there was one fact he couldn't possibly know.
‘I told you, you fatherfucker. Your luck is rotten. Your opponent is me.’
Number 27 survived the Blood Demon Cult without qi.
Usually, those that shared her fate would be sent to brothels, worked as slave girls, or if the Heavens were minutely merciful, became concubines for one of the Eight Families of the Blood Cult— but she escaped. Number 27 taught martial arts to the worst of sort of scum for over twenty years, without any qi.
Were all the bastards who learned from her hardworking students that obeyed their teachers?
Some, but not most.
Did any of them ignore the words of a seemingly powerless instructor?
Yes. Her initiation ritual was beating the absolute shit out of every last one of those arrogant recruits.
Were there any obedient children who became rebellious as they grew up and gained strength?
Of course there were.
And she installed the fear of God into each and every one of them.
Until her mission with the Four Masters, Number 27 was infamous as the Blood Cult’s best and most feared instructor.
“Dad, stop playing with that dunce head of a pretender!” - Flippantly dodging Goatee’s (predictable) eagle-claw attack, Suryong yelled for all to hear, - “I want tteokbokki for lunch!”
“Focus on your own duel, you hellion of a daughter!”
“OH, FUCK YOU TOO!”
Namgung Wook (self-proclaimed) and Goatee were visibly offended at being ignored by the Baek father-daughter duo, and the gossiping villagers had their eyes opened wide and their jaws to the ground.
“You—!”
Before either could act, they struck.
Dad made swift work of the fraudster with a few slashes of his sword, and Suryong immediately kneed Goatee in the balls, hard.
Goatee screamed.
She then proceeded to break his nose with her heel, poked both of his eyes with her fingers, sealed the qi openings on his arms, and locked his Shoulder Well Acupoint— rendering Goatee with a broken nose, two bloody eyeballs, flailing upper limbs and a completely paralyzed body.
For good measure, Suryong jammed a few of her potent paralytic poison needles into Goatee’s neck, and then mercilessly introduced his face to her knee.
THUD!
It’d be a pity if she only hit him once, so…
THUMP! THUNK!
Suryong hit him two more times, but for some reason, she still didn’t feel satisfied…
BASH! BAM! WHAM!
With the spirit of a finishing move, Suryong kneed him in the face over and over again.
SLAM!!! CRACK!!!
Finally, she slammed him to the ground, and as a treat, ‘accidentally’ stepped on his dick a few times. By the end of this one-sided beating, Goatee has as much unmarred skin as a strangled plum.
“Are you okay?” - Dad walked over, not a single hair out of place.
Suryong grins, - “Better than ever.”
She turned around and saw the unconscious body of the imposter lying motionlessly on the ground.
‘Fucking called it! Dad’s a first class warrior— one leagues better than this jerkwad!’
“Since they confessed in front of all these witnesses, all we have to do is lock them up and hand them over to the Murim Alliance. I'm sure the Alliance people will gladly handle the rest of the cleanup.” - Just to be fair to Goatee, Suryong proceeded to viciously kick the unconscious bandit fraud in between his legs.
Baek Muheun sweat drops at his child’s savageness, shaking his head affectionately, - “We have a lot to talk about once we get home, daughter, particularly about those illegal books you’ve surely read…”
Suryong’s disrespectful retort was cut off by the loud cheers of the crowd, all trying their best to deafen her poor ears.
“WOAHHHHHH!”
“You defeated those evil sect bastards!”
“Three cheers for Grandmaster Baek Muheun! Hip, hip, hooray!”
“Hooray for Grandmaster Baek Muheun! Victory to the Baek Academy!”
“Suryong, dear! Would you be interested in meeting my son? He’s a good lad, with a steady income…”
“YOU WERE SO COOL SURYONG-UNNIE! PLEASE TEACH ME YOUR MOVES!”
The people whose lives the pair saved surrounded them, cheering happily while tears and snots of joy ran down their faces. In particular, the cloth shop owner Mr. Jang and his second son Jang-Yi’s expressions had the biggest impact on Suryong.
“Master Baek! You're the best!” - The little imp that was whining to his parents about doing squats just yesterday was clinging to her leg like a limpet to a rock.
‘Oh boy, this brat's going to pester me about teaching him martial arts again tomorrow.’
“Ah! About the other guys…”
Jang-Yi smugly replied, - “All of them ran away.”
As the result of the battle became increasingly obvious, the Jin Academy disciples, including Yang Sam and Goatee's lackeys, had all fled from the scene.
“Finally, it’s over…” - Suryong yawned, fatigue finally hitting her like a carriage strapped to a drugged horse, - “Hey, Dad, I’m gonna conk out for a nap, so take care of the rest for me, m’kay?”
“You little shi—”
Obnoxious snores filled the courtyard, and one thoroughly passed out Baek Suryong made herself comfortable on the dirt ground.
“Have children, they said. Your daughter will take good care of you in your old age, they said.” - Muheun sighs fondly, to the amusement of the surrounding villagers, - “The only thing being taken care of is this menace’s laziness…”
“So…tired…”
“No more…squats…”
“Waah…I want my mommy…”
In the Baek Academy training grounds, under the scorching sun, Suryong laid down on her side with eyes half-open, watching a bunch of snot-nosed brats sweat buckets while doing squats. She vaguely remembered telling them to keep their eyes ahead of them, but nonetheless, Suryong could feel several burning gazes directed her way.
“Noonim, my legs hurt…”
“I want to rest…”
“…Wait, is Master sleeping!?”
“Do you think we'll be able to sneak out?”
‘Little imps. Crying because of a few squats. They’re even thinking of skipping! Too bad~ I heard you~’
“Master is not sleeping,” - Suryong smirked, opening an amused blue eye to stare directly at them.
GASP.
The sniveling brats immediately tensed their muscles and lowered their postures. After confirming that they were doing the squats properly, she rolled over and faced the opposite side.
‘Hmm? Something’s pricking my back. Ahh, must be the stinging gazes of the little shits behind me. Whatever…’ - Suryong dozed, - ‘The afternoon wind is cool and the sun is warm. It's a great day for a nap…’
After the beat down she and Dad rained upon the Jin Academy directors, the attitude towards her from the village children did a complete one eighty. Before, they were whining non stop about doing simple exercises, some even blaming her unmarried status to her ‘evil’ personality.
Now, the brats cling to her like sticky rice, diligently taking her every word to heart like a monk would to scripture.
“According to Master, lower body strength is the basis of all martial arts!” - Jang-Yi, being the social leader of this particular group, had taken the responsibility to maintain class discipline and personally appointed himself as her teaching assistant, - “That's why, it's important to train our lower bodies properly!”
“But…squats are so boring…and tiring…” - Sion whined.
Jang-Yi shouted, - “Dumbass! If you give up just because you're tired, you'll never become strong! Even if it's painful and tiring, we have to endure it no matter what!”
Suryong suppressed a smile. Jang-Yi was right about that.
‘To become a master, one has to at least be able to do squats for four hours without taking a break. Back in the Blood Demon Cult, I'd even do squats while walking from one place to another. Couldn't afford to waste any time, you know?’
“Is Suryong-unnie really that strong?” - Mihua, one of the few female students she has in this class, wondered, - “Her health isn’t the best, and she seems pretty weak to me…”
“She’s super strong! Master Suryong sent the evil sect villain flying in mid-air!” - Jang-Yi bragged, waving his hands around to demonstrate the ‘battle’ he witnessed, - “Master is actually an incredible warrior. She just swung her fist, and the wind went WHOOSH! She stomped her foot, and the ground went BOOM!”
The more the boy talked, the more outlandish the story became.
Suryong blocking Goatee’s qi became ‘an intense flurry of inconceivable blows exchanged between our Master and the villain’. Her jabbing her poison needles into Goatee’s neck became ‘Master landed a critical blow onto the villain, and the ground itself parted for her next attack!’. Suryong really didn’t want to recall how Jang-Yi described her one-sided slaughter of Goatee’s dangling sausage bits, and hoped against hope that he wouldn’t repeat what he said to his poor father.
“Master can smash a rock with her bare fists!”
‘Dear brat, if I tried that, my entire hand would be a bloody paste, not the rock.’
“She can even fly in the sky!”
‘ …I haven't got any qi, so I can't use any movement techniques.’
“Our Master…is probably what people call a ‘hidden master’!”
“Really? Really?”
“Wow!”
The little rascals, however, were eating it up.
“Yes! That's why, as long as we keep working hard, I'm sure Master will definitely teach us his god-level martial arts!” - Jang-Yi enthusiastically advertised.
‘Damn. You got that one right. I’m amazed.’
Suryong does indeed know martial techniques that could be considered otherworldly— five of them, in fact. However, she has no intention of passing it down to these kids.
“If you happen to find someone worthy, please teach it to them. If not, forget it.”
“Also, Master Suryong…!”
Suryong intervened before Jang-Yi could turn her into a thousand-year-old immortal swordmaster that has hidden herself in his secluded village in hopes of a peaceful life.
“Why are you so noisy during training?”
The sniveling brats immediately shut their traps and adjusted their postures. Perhaps the story Jang-Yi had just told them had some effect, because they seemed terrified of her.
“Haizzzah…” - Suryong sighed, shaking her head, - “Take a half hour break. You lot are clearly too distracted for any sort of serious training.”
“YEAHHHHHH!”
Suryong rolled her eyes, smirking, - “Before you start cheering, you should understand that the training after the break will be…”
“I'm sorry, but that will be all for training today.”
Suryong turned around to face the person who had just interrupted her. It was Dad, wearing a complicated expression on his face.
“Did something happen?” - She asked, tilting her head to the side.
Dad sighed, muttering, - “Yeah. A person from the Murim Alliance is here.”
A month isn’t long, but a lot of things could happen in a month.
Suryong had already stirred up so much shit during the Jin Academy incident that it was a wonder the Murim Alliance hadn’t knocked on their door.
Well, they did actually.
It was why Suryong is currently dragging the unconscious bodies of her Dad and newly-found Uncle to their guest room.
‘Ugh, the fucking stench is unbarable.’ - With how these wanky old men turned into teenage hooligans around each other, she wouldn’t even be surprised if their flesh started fermenting with the amount of alcohol they consumed, - ‘Who would’ve thought Dad actually had friends?’
Sue her, the only times Suryong has seen her Dad interacting casually with another adult was to haggle meat prices with the butcher down the street.
“Prince Charming! It really has been too long!” - Go Jooyeol grinned widely, clapping Dad hard in the back before turning to her, - “It’s great to see you in good health, Yakbing! Thirty years, and you look as young as always! I never thought I’d see you two again because of a couple of criminals!”
“...Yes, it really has been.” - Dad hid his red face in between his hands, ashamed of having his playboy days so brazenly informed to his precious daughter by his best friend, - “And that’s my daughter you’re talking to, so watch your mouth.”
“Well damn! You two sure made a lovely flower! She’s going to be more of a heartthrob than you ever were with that face!” - The Flying Eagle laughed loudly, uncaring of the fact that his subordinates were anxiously standing outside, waiting for their superior, - “Where’s Yakbing then?”
“Yakbing died twenty five years ago, hyung.”
“Ah… my apologies..”
“Greetings, Uncle. I’m Baek Suryong, daughter of Baek Muheun and Mae Yakbing.” - Suryong bowed politely, pointedly bulldozing over the sudden turn in mood and trying her best to conceal her laughter-shaking shoulders, - “And please don’t call me that. It makes me feel like a sleazy old man being complimented for fishing a minor.”
“BWHAHAHA! Oi, Prince Charming, this is karma for all the broken hearts you left behind at the Academy!” - As expected, Uncle Jooyeol immediately jumped at the change in topic, - “Dear niece, has your old man ever told you about his good old days of being chased around by angry women with broomsticks at every street corner of Nanchang?”
“Jooyeol-hyungnim, please shut your mouth.”
“Tell me more, Uncle!”
“SURYONG!”
She sighs, exasperated.
It was the first time in a long while Baek Muheun had laughed so freely. She’ll let it slide, just this once.
That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t get him back for it though.
It took everything in Suryong not to burst out laughing when she saw the priceless expression on Dad’s face as she served Uncle Jooyeol honey water. Being chased by a broomstick was worth it.