Urban Vagabond: Reload

Oh Jungmin snapped back to consciousness.

“...!”

The last thing he remembered was Kim Muhyuk’s eyes flashing like a ghost as he closed the distance in a single step, his sword whipping in toward Jungmin’s wrist.

He’d clenched his grip and swung with everything he had so his sword wouldn’t be taken. That was his final memory.

“My sword...”

“You wake up and the first thing you do is look for your sword? Your wrist almost went flying, you know?”

At the voice from beside him, Oh Jungmin turned his head. Kim Muhyuk was looking down at him with a “you’ve got to be kidding me” expression.

“...How long was I out?”

“You woke up pretty quick. Maybe three minutes?”

“My sword...”

Murmuring that it must’ve been taken, his face fell. Muhyuk jerked his chin at his right arm.

“You’re holding it right now.”

“What?”

Oh Jungmin’s right hand still had his sword clamped tight.

His sleeve was still torn and wrapped around the grip, exactly like before—only now, for safety, the sword was sheathed and resting quietly.

“Gh...”

When he tried to push his upper body up, the pain hit late.

Bandages were wrapped thickly around his forearm, where a long cut had been made; blood had seeped through faintly, staining them red.

“I put on some gold-grade wound salve and sealed a few pressure points for first aid. It’s not that deep a cut. Give it a few hours and you’ll be fine.”

“...Thanks.”

With Muhyuk’s help, Oh Jungmin got himself upright and checked his condition.

The wound on his forearm was only a shallow slice of the skin. It stung, but it didn’t seem like it would leave any serious aftereffects.

And on the cloth binding his hand and sword, there were no traces of it being cut or sliced through.

“Why didn’t you take it?”

At his baffled question, Muhyuk shrugged.

“You tied it up so tight I couldn’t get it loose. And then the time limit ran out.”

“......”

Oh Jungmin figured that was a lie.

If it was about taking a sword from an unconscious man, someone like Kim Muhyuk wouldn’t have needed even a single second.

There were at least five seconds left. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve taken it whenever he liked.

He wondered whether Muhyuk’s reason for not doing so was respect for him, or pity.

But he didn’t ask. He had no right to.

“Right now they’re treating the wounded. That examiner called Black-White—thought they were the hard-ass type, but apparently they at least give you a break.”

“Yeah?”

He looked around. Just like Muhyuk said, the injured applicants were resting, spreading wound salve or wrapping bandages.

Then Muhyuk sat down next to him and asked,

“By the way, if you lost to me, were you planning to give up on the license exam entirely?”

“...What are you talking about? If you lose, it’s over anyway.”

At that answer, Muhyuk muttered, “Thought so,” and went on in a leisurely tone.

“Black-White said weapon disarming was the ‘first event’ in the basic evaluation test, remember? Doesn’t that mean there’s another one?”

“Huh?”

“And earlier, they also said if you beat them, you could skip the basic evaluation ‘entirely’ and pass.”

“No way...”

Which meant weapon disarming might not be all there was to the basic evaluation.

For a moment, Oh Jungmin stared blankly, then turned his head to look at Black-White.

Black-White, who happened to be looking their way, nodded.

[That’s correct. Losing in weapon disarming does not mean you’re completely eliminated from the license exam. There will be a small penalty, but you still have another chance.]

You didn’t fail the exam just because your weapon got taken?

The applicants who had been listening all snapped into furious expressions.

“Why are you only telling us that now!?”

At someone’s protest, Black-White covered their mouth with a hand and chuckled.

[Because that way, you’ll fight more desperately, won’t you?]

“Grr...!”

[If you’re dissatisfied, come at me. Win, and I’ll pass you immediately.]

Thanks to the earlier example, the people who’d been protesting shut their mouths tight. A lot of them seemed relieved simply to hear that they weren’t completely out.

Oh Jungmin turned back to Muhyuk, his face full of apology.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“What do you mean, ‘for what’...”

Whatever situation he’d been in, Oh Jungmin wasn’t the type to let go of his sword easily.

But the moment he realized that even with his best effort he couldn’t beat Kim Muhyuk, if he had known the current rules...

“You were the one who should’ve taken the win. I can’t let my stubbornness end up hurting you too.”

“It’s fine. Like Black-White said, the exam isn’t over yet.”

Muhyuk really did mean it.

Unlike most of the other applicants, he’d noticed the hole in Black-White’s words from the start, but he’d deliberately chosen not to explain it to Oh Jungmin.

That was the only way he’d get to cross swords with Oh Jungmin at full power.

Thanks to him, I was more than satisfied.

So he had no regrets about the outcome.

He hadn’t felt any need to take the sword of someone who’d already passed out, either.

Apparently, though, Oh Jungmin felt differently. Raising his uninjured hand, he called out to Black-White,

“Examiner! May I ask what the result of our match was?”

[Well, neither of you succeeded in taking the other’s weapon, so both of you are recorded as having lost.]

“Applicant Kim Muhyuk was clearly stronger than I was. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve cut my arm a few times over and taken my sword. Can you really say it’s fair for that to be called a loss?”

[I, too, very much enjoyed watching your duel. But rules are rules. With no particular reason to make an exception, they stand as they are.]

“But...!”

Black-White lifted their index finger and pressed it to their mask.

[Shh. Any more unreasonable arguments will be met with strong measures.]

Biting his lip hard, Oh Jungmin lowered his head, lost in thought.

Glancing at him, Black-White turned to the martial artists watching them.

[It looks like the wounded have been treated for the most part, so I’ll give you some additional explanation about the basic abilities test.]

Enjoying the hostile stares trained on them, Black-White held up three fingers.

[This year’s basic abilities evaluation will be conducted through matches between martial artists. Five bouts, best three out of five. If you win three of your five matches, you will earn a third-rate martial-artist license and qualify to challenge for a second-rate license.]

Then they folded down their ring finger, leaving only index and middle fingers.

[In other words, if you’ve already won in weapon disarming, you only need to win two more matches to be recognized as third-rate martial artists. However...]

They curled all remaining fingers into a fist and shook it in the air as they finished.

[Conversely, those of you who just had your weapons taken will be going home if you lose two more times. Simple and easy to understand, right?]

They were definitely smiling, but because the voice was still flat and mechanical, it sounded even more grotesque.

Muhyuk clicked his tongue under his breath.

“Whoever came up with this really has a nasty streak...”

[You there, applicant! If you’re dissatisfied, come at me. Defeat me and I’ll even tell you the hidden rules.]

“......”

Muhyuk stared at Black-White for a moment, then shook his head.

Who knows what other exams they’ve got lined up after this. No point wasting myself here.

Watching him with interest, Black-White smacked their lips.

[All right, then. We’ll divide into winners and losers. Winners will follow me along the red arrows. Losers will follow the blue arrows.]

As soon as they finished speaking, two arrows appeared in the air, pointing in different directions.

Martial artists who had taken their opponents’ weapons headed toward the red arrow. Those who’d lost their weapons split off toward the blue arrow with frustrated faces.

“Wait a second!”

Suddenly, Oh Jungmin untied the knot binding his hand and sword and pushed the sword into Muhyuk’s hand.

“Senior?”

[What are you doing?]

Not only Muhyuk but Black-White also tilted their head at him.

“Examiner. Just now, you said there was no special reason to make an exception, right? That means if there is a reason, you can make one, doesn’t it?”

[...That’s not incorrect.]

“Then please record me as having lost twice. In exchange, give Kim Muhyuk one win and let him join the winners’ group.”

“What are you doing?”

Muhyuk told him there was no need, but Oh Jungmin forcibly closed his fingers around the hilt.

“This is how it should be. So quit complaining and take it.”

The firmness in his gaze didn’t allow refusal. Muhyuk stared into those eyes, sighed, and nodded.

“Come get it back from me yourself later.”

“Of course.”

After a brief moment of thought, Black-White nodded as well.

[Hmm... Considering applicant Kim Muhyuk’s ability and the content of your duel, it seems like something the higher-ups could accept. I’ll recognize it at the examiner’s discretion.]

[Martial artist Oh Jungmin is now recorded with two losses. One more loss and you will be completely eliminated from the license exam.]

[Applicant Kim Muhyuk is now recorded with one win. Win two more times and you will earn a third-rate martial-artist license and qualify to challenge for a second-rate license.]

No one voiced any objection to Black-White’s decision.

They had all watched the duel between Kim Muhyuk and Oh Jungmin with their own eyes.

A few simply shook their heads like they thought Oh Jungmin’s choice was foolish.

“What’s he going to do in that condition, wounded and all...”

“He’ll regret it if he gets eliminated after that.”

But the man in question just smiled, looking like he felt at ease.

“Make sure you take good care of my sword until the next time we meet, all right?”

“......”

Until now, Muhyuk had thought of Oh Jungmin as nothing but a nice guy, but he was seeing him anew as a martial artist.

A martial artist with a fierce will to win, a stubborn swordsman.

The First Direct Disciple of Songwol Gate, Oh Jungmin, was someone he found himself liking quite a bit.

So he held out his fist lightly, the way he usually did with Shin Kangheon.

“If I’m really desperate, I can use it as a backup weapon, right?”

“Well, I can’t exactly complain about that.”

Smirking, Oh Jungmin lifted his left hand and bumped his fist against Muhyuk’s.

[All right, losers, please follow the blue arrows now!]

And with that, Oh Jungmin left, following the blue arrow.

Looking around at the winners now holding two weapons each, Black-White spoke.

[Winners, you’ll be coming with me from here. The next test will begin shortly, so stay on your toes!]

Most people either swallowed hard or let out a big sigh. Muhyuk alone hung two swords at his waist, one on each side, and muttered,

“Two more wins... Since we’re at it, I’d rather fight strong people.”

Walking ahead, Black-White heard his mutter and chuckled.

*****

Boom!

“Alliance Leader! What in the world do you think you’re doing!?”

Yeo Pilgeuk, Martial Alliance Leader, had been watching the monitors with keen interest when the shout from behind made him frown.

The people barging in had practically smashed the perfectly fine door off its hinges. For a moment, anger flared in him, but he forced a smile onto his face and stood, turning around.

“What brings the Sect Masters here?”

A few Sect Masters from the Eight Great Sects—who were usually so stuck to their seats—had gathered, glaring at him with narrowed, hawk-like eyes.

“You really need to ask? You changed the license exam format without even notifying us. What sort of tyranny is this!?”

This year, the Martial Alliance had abruptly changed the license exam process it had maintained for over ten years, without informing the Eight Great Sects.

From the Eight Great Sects’ perspective, the contents of the exam they’d been preparing for had been switched overnight. They could very well feel like they’d been stabbed in the back.

But the Martial Alliance Leader replied with perfect composure.

“That’s strange. All matters concerning the license exam are the sole authority of the Martial Alliance. Why, exactly, must we notify the Eight Great Sects in advance?”

“Why, obviously—!”

“Sun and Moon Gate Master. Choose your next words carefully. No matter how mighty the Eight Great Sects may be, overstepping your bounds will not be tolerated.”

The Sun and Moon Gate Master, the one with the hottest temper and the first to jump down his throat, froze at the chill that slid into Yeo Pilgeuk’s eyes.

What’s gotten into this old man all of a sudden?

For years, the Martial Alliance Leader had quietly kept his head down, cowed by the Eight Great Sects.

They’d been planning to let him keep the Alliance Leader seat for a few more years as long as he stayed meek like that...

But now he was suddenly flaunting his authority like he’d lost his mind. The Sect Masters couldn’t help but think he must have something backing him.

“Heh heh. Alliance Leader. We’re not here to pick a fight. We simply came to hear the whole story.”

The Sect Master of Supreme Pole Sword Gate cut in at just the right moment, smiling smoothly as he asked,

“Would you mind telling us why you changed the exam contents so suddenly?”

“It’s simple. There are too many martial artists who only look impressive on the surface.”

Yeo Pilgeuk turned back and pointed at the dozens of monitors spread out before him.

On them, all manner of martial artists taking the test were displayed.

“Take a good look. Those who hesitate to swing their swords at their opponents. Those who toss away their weapons and step back the moment they sense they’re losing. Those who sneak in cowardly ambushes from behind... Do you really think a machine can sort that lot out?”

The Sect Masters of the Eight Great Sects held their tongues.

Not because they had nothing to say, but because they’d realized there was something different in the Martial Alliance Leader’s eyes.

“Feeding internal strength into a machine, swinging your sword at a chunk of metal that just stands there and tallying the score... It is convenient if what you want is to process large numbers. But you cannot pick out true martial artists like that.”

Yeo Pilgeuk thought back to the duel he had just watched between Kim Muhyuk and Oh Jungmin.

Two swordsmen offering each other proper courtesy and colliding with all their might. The process and the result, and the respect and consideration they showed each other.

In Yeo Pilgeuk’s mind, a man who had devoted his entire life to the martial path, that was what a martial artist was.

Even if this ends up being my last act as Alliance Leader, so be it.

He knew the seat was not one he’d be able to hold onto for long anyway.

So before he stepped down, he’d decided to change at least one thing, and had prepared this new license exam behind the Eight Great Sects’ backs.

He’d mobilized what few close aides he had left and all his old connections to make it happen.

“Just because someone has learned martial arts and piled up a bit of internal strength doesn’t make them a martial artist. Everyone apart from the peak experts undergoing separate examinations will have to prove they deserve that title from the very beginning.”

It was also a warning to the Eight Great Sects and the sects under them, who leaked exam contents in secret and only taught their disciples how to get good scores.

Faced with the Alliance Leader’s firm stance, the Sect Masters of the Eight Great Sects could only look troubled; none of them managed a rebuttal.

“Well, I do understand what you’re saying... to a point.”

The Sect Master of Golden Glory Gate, robed in flashy gold, stroked his beard with a displeased look.

“But the end result won’t be much different. The Eight Great Sects trained their disciples to be prepared for any situation. If anything, it’ll be the mid-sized sects and unaffiliated martial artists who are thrown into disarray. They’ll tumble out in droves because the exam format changed without warning. That, I find unfortunate, is all...”

“Gyaaaaah!”

At that moment, a scream ripped out from one of the monitors.

Yeo Pilgeuk and the Sect Masters all instinctively turned their heads. On the screen, a young man in the same gold-colored martial robe as the Golden Glory Gate Master was shrieking.

“W-what is that...”

A big, burly youth with hair dyed bright yellow was in the middle of breaking the Golden Glory disciple’s arm and stripping off his gauntlet.

“Golden Glory Gate Master. Why did you stop talking?”

At Yeo Pilgeuk’s question, the Golden Glory Gate Master couldn’t get a single word out.