The World's Greatest is Dead

Chirp— chirp chirp.

Birdsong in my ear. Sunlight forcing my mind awake.

I ignored the feeling that was more foul than fresh and pried up my heavy lids.

“...Ah...”

A familiar ceiling.

The sight alone let me barely breathe out in relief.

At least it wasn’t white.

“Wow...”

How long has it been since I’ve seen a proper ceiling? It felt like years.

Because of that, I couldn’t help the sigh of awe as I pushed myself up.

That moment—

Zzzrk—!

“Ghh!?”

A spike of agony lanced through my head. I clutched my forehead in a panic.

“Grrr...”

Pain right at the edge of a scream. It was so sharp I nearly blacked out.

“Hoo... Hah...”

As I rode the rough breath in and out and finally began to settle—

[Hmm. A very refreshing morning.]

I turned toward the voice beside me.

[Did you sleep well?]

“...”

Does this look like sleeping well to you?

That’s what I wanted to say.

“Does this look like sleeping well to you?”

So I said it. I couldn’t hold it in.

[Judging by your face, you must have had a bad dream... tsk, tsk... You should have been careful.]

“...Are you insane?”

I was too stunned for words.

I didn’t think he could be that shameless.

“You dumped me in that hell and what? I should’ve been careful? Old man, you’ve really lost it?”

[Dumped you in hell—! Listen to him. There’s a proper word for that: training.]

“Training, my ass.”

Grkk—! My teeth ground hard.

“What did you do to me.”

You call that training? Don’t make me laugh.

That can’t be called training.

How is any of that training.

“Do you know how many times I died?”

It was hard even to count. Honestly, I did count, and even to me the number was absurd.

[No kidding. I never imagined you’d endure all of it.]

“...What?”

[Frankly, I was going to cut it off and explain once you gave up in the middle...]

Yoo Cheongil wore an awkward look.

[I didn’t expect you, brat, to finish it all in a single day.]

“...Hah.”

Unbelievable. Cut it off in the middle?

“Then why didn’t you.”

Do you know what I put myself through to last in there, and you watched all of it without stopping it?

I was about to snap, heat climbing—

[You didn’t give up.]

His words closed my mouth for a beat.

[I meant to stop if you quit, but you flat-out refused to. So I wanted to ask you.]

His blue gaze fixed on me.

Truly full of questions.

[Why didn’t you give up.]

Why, amid those countless repetitions, did you never quit?

I frowned and answered.

“I didn’t know I could. Didn’t know giving up was an option.”

If I’d known, I would’ve done it early. I was thinking what kind of question is that when—

[No.]

Yoo Cheongil cut in, firm.

[Giving up isn’t about can or can’t. It’s whether the heart dies or not.]

His voice, unlike usual, felt a shade more decorous and calm.

[Yet you refused to give up to the end. Even while being cut down thousands of times, how did you not let go?]

“...”

I thought a moment on why.

Looked back, it wasn’t much.

“Because it was doable.”

[......!]

His eyes widened at the answer.

“It was a space where you revive even if you die. Then if I endure, I win.”

I said it without a tremor. He huffed a laugh.

[Sounds like something you’ve done before.]

“Not particularly.”

I have.

Until I was sick of it.

Not a memory I care to summon.

At that, he stared a moment longer and then—

[That’s enough.]

“...Huh?”

He nodded out of the blue.

[As expected. You’re the one.]

“...What... ”

What nonsense. I swallowed it. There was too much I needed to ask.

“Then you answer me now.”

I drew my brows tight and asked him:

“What was that?”

What was that time for.

And what was that thing I fought.

[Ah.]

He answered like he’d nearly forgotten.

[What you were fighting was my younger self.]

“...Sorry?”

I blinked, blank.

“...What?”

Your younger ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ self?

The youth who killed me thousands of times was Yoo Cheongil’s younger self?

[About fifteen? Around then.]

“...”

A heavier shock hit.

Fifteen?

With that face and height—?

What was his face again. He did look about my age. Sure, give or take a few years.

But—

That height...

He was definitely bigger than me. A body that would clear the average adult without trying...

How could that be. The thought jolted me—

No— come on. If it was this old man’s younger self, that tracks.

It made sense quickly.

Even now, look at his body.

A head taller than me, muscles like they’ll burst.

He looks eight feet tall; even if that was fifteen then, it wouldn’t be strange.

“Then why...”

I asked about the gap in the wrist and the difference in Moon Wave.

[...Well... he hadn’t... fully grown yet.]

He sounded, for some reason, embarrassed.

Ah... so that meant—

Because he was young and not yet skillful.

But I died thousands of times to that young Yoo?

To a fifteen-year-old?

...Rotten.

My mood soured considerably.

On top of that—

“You’re from the Blue Moon Sect, huh. I guessed as much when I saw your Moon Eyes—so that’s what you are.”

“Filthy bastards.”

When I mentioned the Blue Moon Sect in the middle, his reaction was off.

It was near disgust.

What is that.

If that was Yoo’s younger self, why would he hate the Blue Moon Sect?

The question flickered—

“...How did it even turn into that situation?”

Even if that really was his younger self—

I couldn’t see why I had to fight some childhood version of him.

“For what...”

[There are several reasons.]

He cut me off.

[First, the biggest: my way doesn’t suit you.]

“...Meaning?”

[I can’t help you much on the abstract side. You don’t have deep talent there.]

“...”

I couldn’t refute it.

Saying to my face you’re a dullard—accurate.

I was a dullard.

So I grew slowly.

Only now am I better because he possessed me now and then and I lucked into a few fortunes.

[But I can’t forever teach you by possession... and just then, a usable method came to hand, so I tried it.]

“That was... a spirit-dream?”

[Right.]

Having your younger self butcher me like a madman?

[As I said, I judged this better than explanations at first. I meant to explain once you tired and gave up...]

“And then I just saw it through to the end?”

[...That’s right.]

He truly looked sincere. He hadn’t expected me to cycle through thousands of times in a single night.

[I underestimated you. I apologize.]

I paused at the apology. I hadn’t expected the old man to offer one.

“...Fine. Let’s say so.”

I let it pass.

But—

“So that... so-called training—what meaning does it have?”

I died thousands of times and barely won once.

What meaning did that have. I couldn’t see it.

“A spirit-dream is, in the end, just a dream.”

Whatever you go through inside, it’s still just a dream at the end.

“No matter what you do there for a hundred nights, you can’t gain anything.”

Truly a dream like spring mist.

Setting aside that he can weaponize a spirit-dream—

Why did I have to do something so pointless.

To me, that mattered.

[Are you sure?]

He looked at my frustration with an odd gaze.

[Did you truly gain nothing there?]

“Of course. What use is what happens in a dream...”

[Invoke the Blue Moon Heart Art.]

“...Now?”

[Yes.]

The abruptness threw me for a second, but I obeyed before I knew it, raising my energy.

Vvvvv—

As the art turned in my dantian, it spread through my body.

Why try this now— huh?

I sucked a breath.

Something was off.

Same amount as usual, circulating no differently. And yet—

Why is this so easy?

What once demanded extreme focus—touching it with minute precision—

Now felt, somehow, far easier.

“What... is this...”

[Handling energy is ultimately a matter of image.]

I stared, startled.

[And a process wrested in live combat to survive—can you say that has no use to a martial artist? I say no.]

“...”

[You can tell even now.]

Vmmm—

The Blue Moon Heart Art spun a few circuits through my body.

I used to have to pour my whole being into a single circuit.

Now, it was natural.

[Whatever you do now will feel markedly different. Something has stained the root energy.]

“...”

The difference was real. Nothing shows like something that formerly wouldn’t now works.

Only—

“...If that’s all that came of it...”

Is that really fine. The cost-to-gain feels off. The thought skimmed by when—

[Who said so?]

He made a face like, what on earth are you talking about.

[That that’s all? Who uttered such nonsense?]

“...Huh?”

So it wasn’t just better control?

I checked myself more closely.

No. Nothing else is higher.

The energy was the same. Not a hair increased. Aside from handling it better, what else could there be?

The question rose of itself—

[Get up. This, too, we’ll confirm with your body.]

“How are we confirming...?”

[Simply.]

He smiled.

[You’ll realize it firsthand.]

“...Huh?”

Realize it firsthand?

I didn’t get it, but it didn’t take long to see what he meant.

It was truly simple.

****

A handsome youth.

Cheon Eujin came looking for me at first light and asked again:

“A duel?”

“Yes. If you don’t mind...”

“Oh! I’d be delighted. If Young Master would instruct me... as much as you like...!”

He was thrilled. I wondered why he was that happy, then thought I knew a bit of the reason.

Because I kept turning him down.

He’d asked me several times to instruct him with a duel.

I’d never accepted.

How could I.

If I accepted on a whim, I’d be found out on the spot—how could I accept?

Cheon Eujin thought I was something tremendous; a duel was the one thing I could never do...

“...Please go easy...”

Can I really do this?

I glanced at Yoo Cheongil with my unease, but the old man—as always—only smiled at me.

Telling me to go duel Cheon Eujin out of nowhere—what kind of nonsense was this.

And me, doing as I’m told—what does that make me.

Even after what I just went through in that spirit-dream, here I was doing this.

Am I bewitched?

Unless I’m possessed by a ghost, how else—

...No, as if.

I shook my head. Bewitched, my foot.

If I were, it wouldn’t be by that terrifying old fiend.

Not by some beauty either—by that demon? Unacceptable.

I just want to check it.

That line about having gained something from the last hell.

I want to verify if it’s true. That must be the reason. It has to be.

“Shall we use live blades for the duel?”

Cheon Eujin asked bright as a child.

“No. Wooden swords, please.”

Am I crazy. I don’t want to get hurt; I chose wood.

“I see...”

He deflated.

Why the long face...?

Isn’t wood good because no one gets hurt?

Honestly, martial artists—

Impossible to understand.

“...Then.”

I gripped the wooden sword he brought.

Watching his continued excitement, I said,

“Please.”

“Please!”

The duel began.

****

My anxiety lasted only a moment.

A short time passed.

“...Hff... hff.”

I steadied my ragged breath and looked ahead.

Cheon Eujin stood with a wry smile.

...No way...

My wooden sword was pressed to his neck.

Which means—

Why did I win...?

I had actually beaten Cheon Eujin.