Chapter 804: I Don’t Like This Trend (8)

What did a lower abdomen mean to a martial artist?

Every martial artist in the world would say it.

That they would rather die as a martial artist than live as a miserable commoner who had lost their lower abdomen.

“Y-You vicious—just kill me!”

“Oh, yeah? Then that’s easier for me. All right, then—people who want to die, to the right. People who want to live, to the left. Decide. I’ll count to ten. One! Two—”

That was the moment.

“Stop!”

A voice packed with resolve cut Qing’s counting short.

When Qing looked, it seemed like he held a fairly high position—at the very least, the clothes were expensive silk.

Qing didn’t know, and honestly didn’t care about his identity at all, but he was the Jangyun Sect’s chief steward.

Watching the middle-aged man’s grim expression, Qing nodded and nodded.

“Of course. As a martial artist, you can’t just give up without even fighting. Is that what this is? In that case—”

“No, no, that’s not it. You have to tell us what you mean by ‘left.’ Is it left from the great hero’s perspective, or left from our direction?”

Every martial artist in the world would say they’d rather die than lose their lower abdomen, but it was easy to flap your mouth when you weren’t actually about to die.

At the crossroads, the number who truly chose death was always, always vanishingly small.

It was simple logic.

Back in Qing’s hometown, if you asked someone in public whether they’d give up their dream for a billion in cash, ninety-nine out of a hundred would answer that they wouldn’t give up their dream for a mere billion.

Because you weren’t actually going to give them a billion, and if they answered honestly, they’d just become “the person who sold their dream for money.”

But if you held out the billion and asked for real, who would refuse?

“Ah. Um. People who want to live go to the left from where I’m standing—so that would be your right, yeah?”

“Ah. I see. Ahem. You do need to make these things clear...”

The chief steward headed to the right first.

Sect members who’d been reading the room poured after him in a swarm.

Cho Samil panicked.

What the hell was this atmosphere?

If the whole sect had just rushed her together, he could’ve escaped in the chaos of a melee.

But this—this was ridiculous, and the mood had floated right out of the situation.

Even if he tried to put on a heroic face and tell them to fight now, who would dare draw a sword and challenge her?

“What about the boss over there? Neutral country? Or do you want to half-die? I’ll split you in half.”

“Uh, n-no matter what, the lower abdomen is a bit much, and also... the crime of insolence for lying being bigger than our wrongdoing, that’s also kind of...”

“Ah, of course. Yeah. You’ll probably understand soon.”

He didn’t know what she meant, but either way, wasn’t she saying she was going to smash his lower abdomen and cripple his legs no matter what?

Cho Samil dropped to his knees.

“Ah, great hero, this lowly one committed a great sin. If you forgive me just once, from now on I’ll reform, and for the rest of my life I’ll live helping those in need—”

“Oh, who are you going to swear on this time? You already sold out your parents. If you sell your parents, who’s the more reliable guarantor than that?”

“Just once—ah.”

Cho Samil understood.

Why the crime of insolence was bigger, and why every teacher in the Central Plains hammered honesty into your skull.

“W-Where is this kind of law! What did we even do wrong!”

And Cho Samil, instead, bellowed in rage, face twisted.

“Oh? Now you’re going to plead wrongful accusation?”

“This is Jangyun Sect territory! The sect protects the territory and collects protection fees—what’s wrong with that that you’re persecuting us like this! Then you righteous sect bastards, you too—you’re the same! You hypocrites! Why are you only calling us guilty—what right do you have!”

“No, you didn’t protect anything. You did nothing. What protection fees?”

“Then are we supposed to just starve to death! There’s no law that says you just sit still and starve to death! We had no choice—we were just trying to eat and live!”

How much grain could a tiny sect even stockpile?

With the area sealed, unable to go anywhere, how many mouths did the sect have to feed right now?

Stealing patients’ grain—relief grain, at that—was shabby and petty, and honestly, it was the kind of humiliating thing you couldn’t tell anyone about.

But were they supposed to starve?

To survive, people even ate their own children—and even the state couldn’t bring itself to punish horrors like that.

“Are we supposed to suck our fingers because the sick are pitiful? What were we supposed to do! And it’s not like we took everything! We left them food to eat!”

Cho Samil roared, thick with grievance.

But Qing’s voice was nothing but cold.

“Then you should’ve helped the Lord Physician. You should’ve cared for those patients with him. The old man even watched out for you and said not to kill you, so I’m holding back and only destroying your lower abdomen and cutting the tendons in your legs to spare your lives. If you’d gone to the old man, would he have told you to starve? Would he have turned you away?”

“Th-That...”

“You parasites—sucking dry the relief grain the old man barely scraped together by selling his face. The old man, who has no ties to you at all, is throwing even his own dignity into the mud to feed the sick, and you so-called ‘owners’ of this territory—your responsibility—no, what kind of—what is this—”

After saying it out loud, Qing’s insides boiled, too.

“Damn. Thinking about it makes me mad. Bastards like this—living just to waste food—maybe I should just kill them all and let the old man yell at me—”

It was a chilling mutter.

Cho Samil subtly shifted to the right—toward the right side of the front yard, where the crowd density had already grown thick.

“What is it, why’s everyone on the left? I said I’m smashing your lower abdomen. I said you won’t be able to use a leg. I’m ending your martial artist life like this. Hey. Why live like that? Let’s die with style.”

“No!”

Qing clicked her tongue and slid Moonlit Night back into its sheath.

Now that she thought about it, maybe she should’ve killed the boss at least once. She should’ve just cut him down while pretending to be mad, no questions asked.

Wait. Was it too late?

Because she was disappointed, maybe one guy—no, maybe two?

“No pride as martial artists? Rather than live as cripples, die as martial artists! Come on! Fight me! I’ll give you three moves—no, five moves!”

“......”

Instead, the Jangyun Sect fighters lowered their eyes quietly.

Even if she swung sword energy around and said stuff like that—

If Jangyun Sect belonged to the righteous sects, they might’ve taken the bait.

But these were unorthodox sect types.

And by the unorthodox way of thinking, they understood Qing’s intent immediately.

She was trying to single out one guy and make an example of him.

“No one coming out? Fine, I’m being generous. Ten moves—no, twenty moves. Still not coming out?”

“......”

“Ts. Why isn’t this working...”

Qing muttered softly.

In a situation where everyone was watching and keeping their mouths shut, that naturally good voice—so clear and pretty it carried like a curse—pierced straight into their ears even at a low volume.

See? She’s trying to wreck one guy.

The moment Jangyun Sect fighters were just starting to exhale—

“Tsk, fine. Then come out one by one. If you try anything cute, it won’t be your lower abdomen that gets smashed—your belly skin might burst instead. You get it, right?”

*****

Smashing lower abdomens was fun in its own way.

The sensation of an invisible lump collapsing wasn’t something you could compare to ripping flesh and bursting organs.

But the expression they showed as their lower abdomen crumbled and scattered—that had a special flavor.

The time the unorthodox bastards had offered up.

Their lives.

Even if their lives were worthless, all the effort they’d piled up until now evaporating in a single instant.

And the hollow emptiness of someone realizing that every hope and possibility of a future they’d fantasized about—if only in delusion—was gone.

Yeah. If you just slaughtered them, it was only a brief amusement that passed by.

But this expression—this was like an electric current running down her spine.

Clean and thrilling.

If it were up to her, she wanted to smash their lower abdomen rough.

If she made their innate true energy leak out in streams and crippled their blood vessels with internal injury, they’d groan and waste away and eventually die, but—hm.

Consider yourselves lucky.

If even these bastards ended up bedridden, the Lord Physician would surely struggle to save them.

Could she really burden the old man, already busy enough, with the trouble of caring for these unnecessary animals?

And anyway, how long would they live even if she left them?

Unorthodox bastards made enemies everywhere. They had grudges crawling all over them like bugs.

A cripple who’d lost his lower abdomen would soon pay the price for his evil deeds.

Even if not, it was the same.

Guys who only knew how to threaten and steal with force—could they change the attitude they’d worn on their bodies even after ending up like this?

Unlike Qing’s hometown, the Central Plains had a well-developed culture where weak guys who acted up got stabbed.

A culture where if you acted like shit, you got stabbed. Nice.

If it had been like that over there, it would’ve been a much more beautiful, humane society.

Anyway, Qing was a little disappointed, but still satisfied enough.

No—she had been satisfied.

“Old man, it’s all resolved.”

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Come on. Those low-level—no, even calling them low-level is generous. Those martial-artist-adjacent nobodies, hurt me? Please.”

Qing looked oddly refreshed.

The Lord Physician let out a long sigh and pushed himself upright.

“Huh. Where are you going?”

“With your temper, do you think those guys are unharmed? No matter how harsh they are, I can’t just let them die.”

“Huh. You don’t need to go. No one died, and I cut the back of their knees clean. After half a day of pain, they’ll be able to walk around, I guess.”

The Lord Physician paused, then asked.

“Heavenly maiden, don’t tell me—you were an incredible master?”

“Of course. I’m an incredible master.”

“People usually say that about themselves?”

“It’s true, what do you want me to do? Wherever I go, like... second or third strongest in the city? I can play with trash unorthodox sect types like that solo. Ah—these guys were roughly ‘masters,’ too. If we’re being strict, not masters—between intermediate and master, like... mid-master? upper-mid-master?”

The Lord Physician didn’t care about martial world matters.

He’d simply assumed Qing had an incredible backer, and since she was bold and kind, she must be from a famous family or sect—she just had a bit of a sucker streak, but she had enough skill to wander around safely.

But second or third in any city?

That meant even if she wasn’t in the top ten of the world, she could stretch it to her toes.

She wasn’t the type to lie, and she had no reason to lie, so if it was true—

“Then why is a master like that doing carpentry, and what are you lacking that you squeeze pus from patients and boil decoctions?”

“I did carpentry because it was chaos and it felt weird to just play around, and I didn’t really have anything else to do, and it was pretty fun. And squeezing pus and boiling decoctions—you told me to.”

“Mm.”

Would a master like that usually do it just because someone told them to?

Would they help rebuild a swept-away city just because they had nothing to do?

“I figured you had a huge backer, so you’d just scare them a bit, clean up a few corpses, and maybe take care of a couple critical patients.”

When the Lord Physician told her not to kill, it had meant try to restrain yourself if possible—not don’t use lethal force even if you’re forced into danger.

“Oh, you should’ve told me earlier...”

Qing felt wronged.

You had to be clear about that kind of thing—her first slaughter in a while, a chance she’d been able to enjoy after so long!

Wait—was she being wronged right now?

“Anyway, well done. We were short on hands. If we leave those guys, they can still walk around and work, right?”

“You’re going to use them? Hm. Even if we’re short on hands, those guys aren’t the kind of bastards who’ll care for patients.”

“Hey. Tsk, tsk. You think I’d leave patients to people who don’t know medicine? There’s a lot of work that needs muscle. Unclog the latrines. Help patients who can’t move. Clean.”

They’d only lost their lower abdomen and become cripples.

Most small-sect martial arts were external arts—low-grade stuff that relied on raw muscle—so Jangyun Sect fighters were still, even now, reborn as “cripples with strength.”

So he planned to use them carefully, wring them dry.

“Then if there’s any guy who won’t listen, just tell me. If I wreck a couple as an example, it feels like they’ll listen real well. Want me to wreck them?”

“Let’s see how it goes.”

But the Lord Physician’s unavoidable animal-recycling plan started grinding even before Qing could threaten them into doing it properly.

Because most of the Jangyun Sect fighters suddenly began groaning as they collapsed—showing symptoms of the strange plague.