The World's Greatest is Dead

Bang Sungyeon, eighteen years old.

When he regained the memories of his past life, he repeated something to himself.

At ten years old, when he resolved to live this life properly.

From then on, he set a few rules.

Never, under any circumstances, tell anyone that I have memories of a past life.

If I blab carelessly, who knows what might happen. I swore to myself I would never reveal it.

Don’t stick my neck out.

Just because I have past-life memories doesn’t mean I should run my mouth or do stupid shit.

The family’s already a goddamn mess, which means I have plenty of enemies whether I know it or not.

Especially back home in Liaodong, things are even more dangerous. I couldn’t risk using this to show off and making enemies.

Even if I did something later, for now I’d endure.

That was the purpose I set for my life.

And then.

The last, the grand third rule.

The thing I had to value most for the sake of my life’s purpose.

“It’s my past life.”

I must not live like Kim Mincheol, the man I was in South Korea.

Maybe the problem was that my grandmother had been a shaman.

In my past life, Kim Mincheol lived seeing things that shouldn’t be seen.

Because of that, he got tangled up with those that must not be seen, lived a dog’s life, and died like a dog.

So this time, I resolved not to live that way.

But damned if there wasn’t a problem right at the moment I regained those memories.

The powers of my past life came along with them.

Yeah, that’s right.

I could see ghosts.

And in this life, now that my past memories had returned, it was the same.

I didn’t know if it was because I’d recalled the past, or if it was simply a curse stuck to me. But that was reality.

I could see ghosts.

That alone cranked the difficulty of life up sky-high.

If it were just seeing them, it wouldn’t matter. But the instant the ghosts realized I could see them, that was when trouble started.

“There’s no shortage of crazy bastards among them.”

Ghosts are nothing but souls stuck behind, full of resentment or unfinished regrets.

If they think there’s someone who can unravel their wishes, they’ll cling to you no matter what.

“You don’t know how much fucking hell I went through because of that.”

And here, in the Central Plains, where blades and blood are part of daily life?

The sheer number of ghosts defies reason.

Thinking back to what I went through in my past life, I swore I’d get through this one in one piece.

Pretend I don’t see what I see.

Pretend I don’t hear what I hear.

“I’ll live a smooth, ordinary life no matter what.”

So I swore, and lived for years hiding my eyes.

And damned if I didn’t end up facing a crisis anyway.

****

The figure was nearly eight feet tall.

If it hadn’t spoken, I might have mistaken it for a bear.

I squinted to look closer.

Of course it wasn’t a bear — clearly a person.

The man was an old man with white hair, clad in a tattered black martial uniform.

“What the hell’s with his body...?”

And for an old man, his physique was ridiculously muscular.

At a glance, you could tell he wasn’t ordinary.

Right away, my eyes flicked to his lower half.

A habit of mine.

A habit I must never forget.

Ghosts are usually half-transparent.

Maybe it’s just because they’re souls — but if you see it, you know it’s a ghost, and the first thing you do is pretend you didn’t notice.

Sometimes, though, there are ones that look clear. In that case, you just check their legs.

Ghosts’ feet never touch the ground.

Or else, they’re missing feet entirely and drift along.

And they cast no shadows.

That’s why I built the habit: whenever I see a stranger, I check their legs first.

Thanks to that, I’d gotten by pretty much intact.

Sure, there were some close calls, but since I never got caught, they’re just memories now.

“Hmm...”

The old man’s legs were firmly planted on the ground.

I confirmed it and let out a sigh of relief inside.

“Ah... ahh, look at that, swinging your arm like that... ahh. That’s not how you use martial arts at all...!”

“......”

The old man stared into the training hall, lamenting over and over.

So if he’s not a ghost, then what the hell is he?

Suspicious.

Suspicious as hell.

...Could it be?

My eyes flashed as the thought struck me.

“Is he one of the Martial Alliance executives?”

I didn’t know if he was with the Anhui Branch or another branch.

But anyone strolling around the Martial Alliance grounds at this hour like it’s nothing — he had to be someone important.

My father had told me:

“High-level experts are often eccentric as hell. Be careful.”

Especially, he said, watch out for old men and children.

So should I just stay out of it and get the hell away?

I decided that — but my feet were already walking that way.

“Excuse me. Elder.”

If he was an executive, maybe I could at least leave an impression. That greedy thought pushed me forward.

So I called out to him.

But—

“Good grief... swinging your waist like that, of course all the recoil will go to your back. You need to lighten it up, make it looser, you brat.”

The old man ignored me like I was air.

“Elder...? Excuse me?”

“And what’s with the way he’s gripping his sword. His wrist’ll be ruined later if he keeps that up. Ay, tsk, tsk...”

“Elder. Can’t you hear me?”

“These days, the youngsters don’t have their fundamentals set, no wonder they’re so disappointing...”

“Hey, old man.”

“...Hm?”

“......”

That he heard.

The words slipped out in irritation, and the old man immediately turned to look at me.

Our eyes met.

And his eyes were oddly blue.

“No, I mean—”

“...?”

The instant our gazes met, he turned his eyes away and began glancing around.

As if checking to see if anyone else was nearby.

“...Elder?”

I called to him again at that strange behavior.

Only then did he seem to register that I was calling him, and he looked back at me.

“What is this...? What’s going on?”

“Pardon?”

“Young man. You can see me?”

“What? You’re right in front of me, of course I can—”

I stopped mid-sentence.

“Wait a second...”

A creeping wrongness froze me in place.

This was bad.

Instinct honed over a lifetime told me so.

“Oh-ho?”

Seeing my reaction, emotion flickered across the old man’s face.

And seeing that, goosebumps exploded over my skin.

I dropped my eyes.

Checked his legs again. I’d already confirmed it, but yes — he had legs.

They were clearly there... yet something was wrong.

“Where are you looking?”

“......”

I didn’t answer. I turned on my heel at once.

Fucked.

Fucked big time.

I must have made a mistake.

“Hey. Young man?”

I ignored the voice and kept walking.

“There.”

This time the sound came from ahead.

Startled, I looked up — it was Yeon So Cheon, drenched in sweat.

He’d come out of the training hall at the sound.

“Uh... well...”

Before I could come up with an excuse, he looked at me and asked:

“...What are you doing out here alone?”

Cold sweat broke out down my back at his words.

“Alone.”

He just told me I was alone.

Which meant my suspicion was right.

And in that moment of realization—

[Well, well...]

From right behind me, a chilling presence surged as a massive face pushed forward.

[So.]

[You really can see me.]

I was fucked.

“What the hell...?”

Seriously, what was this?

I glanced back down at the old man’s feet again.

Same as before. Solid.

His feet existed, touching the ground.

Then what was this?

“What the fuck is he.”

That feeling. That distinct wrongness.

The same sensation that always hit me when I faced a ghost was spreading through my whole body.

I rolled my eyes and slowly looked straight ahead.

Yeon So Cheon was standing there, staring at me with a strange look.

“...Do you have some business with me?”

He eyed me warily, asking.

“He’s looking at me.”

Both his eyes were fixed solely on me.

And right next to me was this massive, eight-foot muscular old man — yet he only saw me?

That made no sense.

“It’s a ghost.”

Even with feet, even with a solid body, this old man was a ghost.

I was certain.

I didn’t know how.

I’d seen plenty of clear ghosts before, but never one this clear down to his toes.

I had to get a grip.

Yeon So Cheon, staring at me all stiff, furrowed his brow.

“...Say something at least...”

“If you’re done with night watch, you should get some sleep.”

“...What?”

At my words, Yeon So Cheon’s expression shifted. I pressed on.

“It’s already been seven nights.”

I couldn’t give him room to question me.

I had to hide the fact I was rattled.

“You know that? It’s been seven nights straight you’ve used this training hall after the first watch.” 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

“What are you suddenly—”

“A person should know how to yield a little. How ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) long are you going to keep this up? Go inside and sleep already!”

I started forcing the issue, and Yeon So Cheon finally answered.

“...I haven’t heard that the training hall belongs to anyone.”

He was right. The training hall didn’t have an owner.

If you insisted, you could say it belonged to the Martial Alliance.

“Owner or not. Recruits under one year aren’t supposed to use it.”

“...What?”

His eyes widened at my words.

They were already big, so now they really stood out.

“I... I’ve never been told that.”

“Of course not. Everyone’s too busy watching your mood to tell you.”

“......”

The rule that you couldn’t use the training hall until after a year — it was bullshit.

But it was a bullshit everyone else followed.

“...And on top of that, you’re a rookie, yet you’ve been taking the first watch shifts. Meanwhile I’ve been stuck with second or last watch for a whole year...”

“That’s... I only followed orders...”

“Orders my ass. Everyone’s just tripping over themselves watching you. You’re so used to the special treatment it feels normal to you, doesn’t—!”

Ah, shit.

I clamped my mouth shut mid-sentence.

I’d gotten worked up and gone too far.

This was the kind of thing I should’ve kept to myself.

I’d only meant to exchange a few words and walk away, but I’d gone overboard.

I sneaked a glance at him, but sure enough, Yeon So Cheon’s face had hardened.

“I’m fucked.”

This was someone who might have the Namgung Clan backing him.

A second-rate martial artist who could toy with trash like me. And I’d mouthed off way too much.

Was I about to get stabbed for it?

Cold sweat trickled down my back at the thought.

“...Special treatment...”

Thankfully, Yeon So Cheon didn’t draw his blade — he just muttered quietly.

I was just some punk who picked a fight out of nowhere at night. But instead of making a fuss, he simply started moving his legs.

“...Anyway. I only came here as your senior to say that much. Just... keep it in mind.”

I had no idea what I was even saying.

The words tumbled out as I hurried off.

I could feel eyes on me.

Were they Yeon So Cheon’s? Or that old man’s?

I ignored it.

Would playing dumb work anymore?

****

[Young man.]

Of course not.

Damn it, it never works.

[Young man.]

I still ignored him.

I went back to the dormitory where the branch agents stayed.

Yoo Hyungin was already asleep inside.

I slipped under my blanket like nothing was wrong.

[Now you pretend you can’t hear me?]

“......”

I didn’t hear that.

I couldn’t hear that.

[Ho ho. This brat...]

In the dead of night, the old man’s voice echoed, chilling.

My pounding heart felt too heavy to bear.

Was it fear that the life I’d built would collapse?

I couldn’t let myself get tangled.

The old man’s blue eyes glowed down on me from above in the dark.

I didn’t look up.

I shut my eyes tight, afraid they’d stray.

[So late already... and now you’d ignore me?]

“......”

[I never imagined someone could see me. Open your eyes. Just a moment of talk.]

Bullshit. Classic ghost tactics.

Begging you to listen to their grudges. Just once, please, help me.

You pity them once, it becomes twice. Twice becomes ten times.

I’d been burned countless times before.

That’s why I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again.

“But what the hell is this old bastard.”

I never imagined I’d see a ghost with legs.

Not just in this life — in all my lives, this was the first time.

And thanks to it, things had gone completely sideways.

“If that old man blabs to other ghosts...”

I’d spend this life surrounded by them just like before.

They always swore they wouldn’t tell — but they always did.

The dead were damned gossips.

So I ignored him.

I couldn’t get roped in again in this life.

[Young man. Young man.]

I forced myself to sleep.

Falling asleep wasn’t hard.

I’d trained myself to pass out even in noisy chaos.

[Ho ho ho...]

The old man’s laughter rumbled.

[So that’s how you’ll play it?]

There was mischief in that thick voice.

And hearing it, I couldn’t stop the dread trembling through me.

Nine years into this life.

And I was facing the second greatest crisis of my time in the Central Plains.

...Seriously, what the hell do I do?

****

By the time night gave way toward dawn—

The youth sat on his bedding, looking troubled.

This was the lodging provided by the Martial Alliance. A room just for him.

A large chamber, far too big for an ordinary agent.

A luxurious quilt, all the accommodations prepared for him.

Looking at it all, the youth recalled—

“You’re so used to the special treatment it feels normal to you, doesn’t—”

That nameless boy.

All he knew was that the Martial Alliance agent was his age.

But his words came back, and Yeon So Cheon frowned.

“Special treatment.”

The phrase struck deep in his chest.

He kept repeating it in his mind, until finally he opened his lips.

“Pungyeon.”

At the quiet word, a man appeared behind him.

A man in a black martial uniform, pale-faced.

“Yes, young master.”

Yeon So Cheon’s bodyguard, Pungyeon.

An expert assigned by his clan.

“...Was that true?”

“What do you mean, young master?”

“That rule... that Alliance agents cannot use the training hall until their second year.”

At his words, Pungyeon answered evenly.

“It is true.”

“!”

Yeon So Cheon’s eyes widened.

He moved to say more, but Pungyeon spoke first.

“But it is nothing more than the kind of irrationality that exists in any organization. It is not an official rule. You need not trouble yourself—”

“But still. That means everyone else abides by it.”

“There is no reason for you to abide by such things.”

That was the sort of law meant only for common people.

Someone like you has no need of it.

Pungyeon closed his mouth.

He knew his master hated hearing such things.

“...Is it that agent you met earlier that troubles you?”

“......”

Tsk! Pungyeon clicked his tongue silently.

“Young master. That is not someone worth your concern.”

A nameless Martial Alliance agent.

At best, a third-rate martial artist.

The fact he loitered around the training hall where his master practiced for seven nights had caught his attention at first.

But upon checking, he wasn’t worth any thought.

Who was he again?

A bloodline from some unheard-of family in Liaodong.

Liaodong — where the mighty Murong Clan, one of the Five Great Clans, held sway.

For a moment, Pungyeon had wondered if he was related to them.

But he wasn’t.

If he’d been Murong blood, he wouldn’t have come all the way to Anhui.

The Namgung Clan and the Murong Clan were bitter enemies, after all.

“They say he’s the one who used that training hall until now. He probably just doesn’t like that you’ve been using it. If it bothers you, I can take care of him—”

“Pungyeon.”

Yeon So Cheon’s cold eyes cut him off.

“...Forgive me.”

At once, Pungyeon lowered his head.

“Though the conversation was sudden, what he said was not wrong.”

Irrationality, bad habits — still, it was something everyone followed.

And to feel special treatment as natural — maybe that boy had a point.

“...I’ll speak to the commander about it later.”

“Young master... but—”

“I came here with a purpose. But what must be observed, must be observed.”

He wanted to live a life without shame.

That was why he had left home — and if not, it would all be meaningless.

“Do as I say.”

“...Yes, young master.”

Pungyeon yielded without further argument.

Yeon So Cheon turned his eyes away and asked something else.

“What of the thing we were seeking?”

At that, Pungyeon spoke as if he had been waiting.

“We found a trace.”

Yeon So Cheon reacted at once.

“In the mountains north of Anhui. It seems his sword is there.”

“......”

Yeon So Cheon nodded.

And for the first time, heat stirred in his quiet eyes.

“...At last!”

This was why Yeon So Cheon had come to Anhui.

The greatest under heaven, the greatest of all time.

The former Martial Alliance Leader — the Sword Saint, Yoo Cheongil.

They had finally uncovered a clue to his legacy.