Urban Vagabond: Reload

“How am I supposed to thank you...?”

I stared at the Five Elements Divine Art that had landed in my hands, still unable to believe it.

I’d never even imagined I could obtain it this easily.

I’d been thinking through how I’d persuade the Martial Alliance Leader face-to-face—how I’d even use my future knowledge and information to strike a deal.

So a great senior of the orthodox martial world really is different.

I couldn’t help but admire the sheer breadth of the Martial Alliance Leader, who had handed over the Five Elements Divine Art—and not just any copy, but the true original—without attaching a single condition.

“You don’t look all that happy. I even wrapped a qi barrier around the room in advance in case you felt like screaming.”

“I’m extremely happy. It’s what I need most right now. But...”

“But?”

Any martial artist, of course, would crave a divine art and peerless legacy.

But there was one thing I’d learned the hard way in my previous life.

“I don’t think the level of a martial art necessarily translates directly into a martial artist’s strength.”

While other vagabonds swarmed like moths into flame, chasing stronger martial arts and miracle elixirs, I kept grinding and tempering what I already had.

In the end, the one who survived and proved his strength was me.

“...I’ll only gain the strength worthy of this divine art if I put in the effort that matches it.”

At my calm answer—steady enough that it didn’t sound like empty bravado—Yeo Pilgeuk’s lips curled slightly.

“A good attitude. Learning a divine art and peerless legacy doesn’t make anyone a master. But for someone like you—someone with both talent and effort—I can give you wings.”

As he spoke, Yeo Pilgeuk sat down on the floor in a cross-legged posture.

“Sit. I’ll need to examine your constitution myself before I can give you any advice.”

“...Pardon?”

I looked at him, baffled.

More than the part about checking my constitution, what stunned me was that Yeo Pilgeuk—who I’d assumed would leave immediately—was settling in with such ease.

“Martial Alliance Leader. Didn’t you say you didn’t have time a moment ago?”

“I said I had more to give than time to spare. Did you think I’d just hand you a manual and leave?”

“Truly... the mercy of the orthodox faction...”

Still impressed, I sat across from him and held out my wrist.

Among martial artists, you didn’t casually let anyone take your pulse-point—even a fellow disciple.

But my counterpart was the Martial Alliance Leader.

If he wanted to, he could take my life with ease. There’s no reason to resist pointlessly.

A moment later, the Martial Alliance Leader, who had been carefully feeling my pulse-point, formed a meaningful smile.

“You little punk. I had my suspicions, but... you were hiding your constitution.”

“...I’m sorry. If people found out I had a special constitution, it would get noisy. It would interfere with my training, and I was worried it could bring harm to my family, so I underwent a procedure to falsify the readings.”

I spoke as honestly as I could.

He was the Martial Alliance Leader. He wasn’t someone you could fool with a sloppy lie.

Sure enough, Yeo Pilgeuk nodded as if he’d already guessed.

“It wasn’t a good thing to do, but I know how much children like you get harassed by the media and sects... so I won’t punish you. Still, you’ll have to correct it properly later.”

“Would it be acceptable if I correct it after I become a pinnacle expert?”

“What did you just say? Hahahaha!”

At the sight of my confidence—certainty that I would become a pinnacle expert—Yeo Pilgeuk burst into laughter.

As the Martial Alliance Leader, and as one martial artist to another, Yeo Pilgeuk felt gratitude toward me.

The Martial Alliance received a great deal of help from this kid. And personally, for me as well...

If it hadn’t been for me, the Martial Alliance would’ve been unable even to respond to the assassins’ intrusion, forced to watch events unfold after the fact.

And he would’ve gone down in history as an incompetent leader—disgraced into resignation.

So this much—falsifying my constitution—was something he could easily overlook.

“What you mean is that once you’re a pinnacle expert, you’ll be confident you won’t be pushed around by anyone. Fine. Do it that way.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, take a look at the manual.”

As I didn’t immediately flip the pages, instead studying even the title slowly and carefully, Yeo Pilgeuk murmured a small note of admiration, then asked,

“I could’ve had a copy made and handed that to you. Why do you think I brought you the true original instead?”

“I think it means I should grasp the creator’s intent—and even their smallest habits.”

Yeo Pilgeuk clicked his tongue at the immediate correct answer.

“So this is what he meant when he said you’re a disciple with no fun in teaching. Now I understand.”

A dot placed unconsciously on the original, the wear of someone’s hands, even the faint smudges left between lines—any of it could become a crucial hint toward insight for later students.

Handing over the original was both intention and consideration: don’t miss even one thing.

So the Sword Demon wasn’t boasting for no reason.

Talking with me directly, Yeo Pilgeuk could feel it.

The bold hand I’d shown during the license exam, and the excellent frame and bones.

And today—my superior constitution and outstanding comprehension, which he’d confirmed himself.

He said you’d surpass even him before long...

Choi Geon wasn’t just being ridiculous because he doted on his disciple.

Even to Yeo Pilgeuk’s eyes, I was a late-bloom talent with a well-rounded set of qualities a martial artist needed.

But once you stepped into the wider world, martial artists with conditions just as good as mine were everywhere.

“I heard your goal is to enter the World’s Strongest Tournament and defeat Richard Han. Was that sincere?”

A mischievous smile—one that also looked faintly bitter—rose at the edge of his mouth.

I slowly lifted my gaze from the Five Elements Divine Art, met his eyes head-on, and answered.

“Yes. My dream is to win the World’s Strongest Tournament.”

I answered with the face of a cold, composed martial artist—one who understood his own ability far too well for his age.

And yet the words didn’t feel arrogant.

Because even knowing how difficult the goal was, my eyes held the resolve to never give up—to achieve it to the end.

“...A fine dream.”

Staring into that steady gaze, Yeo Pilgeuk felt as if he’d returned to the days when his own blood ran hot.

Hot enough that he found himself bringing up an old story he didn’t need to tell.

“In the past, this old man also participated in the World’s Strongest Tournament.”

The Martial Alliance Leader Yeo Pilgeuk was still an extraordinary martial artist even now, but back when he had participated, his name had always been among the first mentioned whenever people spoke of the strongest in Korea.

Now he looks like a kindly old man, but in the past, international organizations classified him as a high-risk martial artist and made him wear a Black Arm Ring.

In his forties, with a body and internal energy at their peak—and experience gathered while roaming the world—Yeo Pilgeuk entered the tournament, declaring he would pacify the world.

And I knew the result.

It was the best placement ever achieved by a Korean martial artist—before Richard Han.

“Of course. I remember you reached the quarterfinals of the World’s Strongest Tournament.”

“Heh heh. And then I was eliminated when I met a martial artist called the Sword King of Europe.”

With a faint smile, Yeo Pilgeuk nodded.

The wall of the World’s Strongest Tournament had been far higher than he’d imagined.

So high that the injuries he sustained in that final match forced him to devote himself to recovery and rehabilitation for years.

After that, he focused on training the next generation at home and rose all the way to the position of Martial Alliance Leader—but looking back, he couldn’t say he had no regrets.

If I’d recovered from my injuries and challenged the world stage one more time...

No matter the result, he would’ve poured out everything he had as a martial artist, leaving behind not a single lingering attachment.

Hoping I wouldn’t end up with regrets like his, Yeo Pilgeuk sincerely rooted for me.

“I’m looking forward to the day you and Richard Han face each other in the final.”

“Now that you’ve given me the Five Elements Divine Art, I think that day will come much sooner.”

“Hahahaha! If you can, fight him before this old man steps down as leader!”

He laughed until tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, then quickly turned serious.

“In the past hundred years, no Five Elements affinity has officially appeared. So no one can claim to truly know this martial art.”

There were annotations—interpretations and research left by martial-art scholars regarding the Five Elements Divine Art’s manual, but Yeo Pilgeuk hadn’t brought them.

Because there might be mistakes, and because he wanted me to wrestle with it myself—to make it wholly mine.

“Still, there’s one point everyone agrees on. For someone who wants to learn the Five Elements Divine Art, you need all of the energies of the Five Elements. I’ll give you one last gift.”

“What you’ve given me already is more than enough—”

Sssssss.

A faint golden light began to rise like heat haze from the body of the Martial Alliance Leader, still seated cross-legged, and my words died in my throat.

“Turn around and sit with your back to me. I’ll breathe into you pure metal energy—one of the Five Elements.”

Gold-Primordial Flowing Meteor Fist.

That was the name of Yeo Pilgeuk’s life-name ultimate technique.

The internal energy he had accumulated over decades was filled with refined, pure metal energy. He intended to share a portion of it with me.

I never thought I’d repay the debt I owe that friend, the Sword Demon, like this.

Giving me the Five Elements Divine Art had been repayment as the Martial Alliance Leader for what happened this time.

Sharing internal energy was his attempt to pay back—even a little—the personal debt he owed Choi Geon from long ago.

“...You’re saying you’ll give me your internal energy?”

“When you get old, your internal energy just overflows pointlessly. And who said I’m giving you all of it? I’ll just give you a little so you can get a taste.”

He spoke as if it were nothing, but I knew full well that handing even a fraction of the internal energy you’d built over a lifetime to another person was never easy.

After a brief hesitation, I performed a respectful fist-and-palm salute, then turned around.

“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I won’t refuse it.”

“Good. No useless haggling.”

With a small chuckle, Yeo Pilgeuk extended both hands and placed his palms against my back.

Then he guided a portion of his internal energy into my lower abdomen.

It was close to one-tenth of what he had amassed over decades.

With just that one-tenth, I instantly gained enough internal energy to be ranked among the upper tier of late-bloom talents.

This should be enough. Now—

But the moment the metal energy settled in my lower abdomen, something happened that even Yeo Pilgeuk hadn’t anticipated.

KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA!

The Yin-Extreme qi that had sunk deep within my lower abdomen reacted as it touched the newly introduced metal energy.

Metal gives birth to water.

Following the Five Elements’ generating cycle, metal energy nourished water energy. The Yin-Extreme qi that had been hardened inside me softened into flowing water, and the energy inside my body began to expand.

The metal energy reinforced and set the path the water energy traveled, becoming even more solid, while water surged strongly through the channels—and the power of water grew larger and larger.

“...!”

As two different energies swelled inside me, I felt a fullness so immense I couldn’t put it into words. My body trembled violently with overwhelming sensation.

“Heh heh...”

Yeo Pilgeuk, his face looking slightly more drawn now, pulled his hands away from my back and stared blankly at the astonishing scene.

My hair lifted into the air, and golden energy and blue energy alternated as they wound around my body.

“Incredible... truly incredible...”

But for now, they were still like water and oil—each asserting its own color, unable to blend perfectly.

[Martial Alliance Leader! What happened? Intense qi is suddenly leaking out beyond the qi barrier—!]

At that moment, the Sword Demon’s flustered voice—transmitted qi—pierced into Yeo Pilgeuk’s ears.

Yeo Pilgeuk sent a transmitted reply to the Sword Demon outside the door.

[You can confirm it yourself later. You—at your age—took in a disciple that makes no sense at all.]

[Can’t you tell me in more detail?]

[No. My stomach hurts.]

After confirming that the two colors of energy were slowly sinking back into my body, Yeo Pilgeuk rose to his feet.

My eyes were still closed.

It would take a while to rein in the energies still rampaging inside me.

“Then I’ll see you at the next exam.”

With a gentle smile, Yeo Pilgeuk looked at me with an expression full of anticipation—

and vanished, just as suddenly as he had arrived.

Next time, how much would I have changed?

For a while, it felt like he’d enjoy nothing more than simply imagining it.