The eastern slums stank of rot, dog piss, and broken hopes — the kind of place even the wind avoided.
In the backroom of a gambling den, behind silk curtains hiding bloodstains, So Taektwirled a bone die between his fingers. His smile was narrow. Calculating. It never reached his eyes.
To call him a "merchant" was generous. He was more like a carrion bird that had learned to wear silk and count coins.
"You," he said, staring at Jin Seol's ragged form, "look like shit someone stepped in during a rainstorm."
Jin Seol said nothing. His hands were tucked inside his robe, one gripping the hidden crossbow prototype.
So Taek chuckled. "Don't glare. You're not the first desperate dog to come wagging his tail, hoping to sell me a 'world-changing' weapon. The last one sold me a knife that broke on its first stab. So… what makes you different?"
Jin Seol stepped forward and set the device on the table.
So Taek's eyes flicked toward it. Intrigued. Distrustful. Still amused.
"Looks like something a one-eyed carpenter made drunk."
Jin Seol loaded a bolt. Click.
He turned slightly and fired.
The bolt screeched through the smoky air and slammed into the wooden beam behind So Taek — deep. The beam cracked, and splinters burst like pine needles in the wind.
The guards reached for their blades. So Taek raised a hand. They stopped.
⸻
A long pause.
Then So Taek leaned back, folding his arms behind his head.
"Now that… that's interesting."
His grin returned, this time showing a gold-capped tooth.
"Where'd you steal it?"
Jin Seol stared him down. "It's mine."
"Of course it is," So Taek said easily, inspecting the grooves and tension wire. "You want to sell the design. Or maybe… you want protection."
Jin Seol placed a scroll on the table. "Ten silver ingots. No negotiations. You buy it now — or the next rat gets it."
So Taek leaned in closer, his smile disappearing for just a second.
"You think you're the only bastard hungry enough to blackmail a man like me?"
"No," Jin Seol said. "But I'm the only one who knows what he's selling."
Another pause. Tense.
Then So Taek laughed. Loud and open, like a man who hadn't laughed for real in years.
"I like you. You're bold. Suicidal. Stupid… but bold. That's the kind of man who changes things."
He flicked his fingers. A pouch clinked on the table. Jin Seol snatched it, checking the weight.
"You'll hear from me again," So Taek said, eyes narrowing. "And when you do… you'd better be worth the silver I just threw into a fire."
⸻
By dusk, Jin Seol was slipping through the alleys, sack of coin hidden beneath old linen.
He bartered in hushed tones, using beggar dialect and false names. He bought rare herbs in secret:
• White Flame Root for inner cleansing.
• Iron Vine for bone reinforcement.
• Powdered Black Date for rapid blood recovery.
With those ingredients, he would begin crafting the pills that would let him train like no man ever had.
⸻
He hid the supplies beneath a collapsed section of the mountain wall near the old cemetery. No one went there except the dead.
That night, under the shadow of the moon bridge, he sat alone with the ingredients laid out before him.
"The body doesn't need to be born strong. You just need to be willing to destroy it first… and rebuild it better."
The Forgotten Truth About Training the Body
Most martial artists never questioned the path they walked.
They were taught that the road to strength began with qi. Manuals opened with breathing methods, sects boasted of their circulation techniques, and teachers spoke of inner strength as if it were the only gate worth knocking on. And so, generation after generation, young hopefuls sat cross-legged, forcing qi into their fragile bodies, blind to the cracks forming beneath the surface.
It was tradition. It was dogma. It was wrong.
Jin Seol had believed the same once. In his past life, he had cultivated feverishly, grinding his body into dust in pursuit of qi he was never ready to bear. Every failure, every crippling pain, every night coughing blood—he thought it was because he lacked talent. That others were blessed, while he was cursed.
And then, one day—too late—he overheard the truth.
It had not come from a master's lips, nor a scroll in a sect's library. It was nothing more than an idle conversation between two wandering warriors in a marketplace. Jin had been a nobody then, weak and forgotten, but he remembered the words as though they had been branded into his flesh:
"Qi is fire, but the body is the vessel. A cracked vessel cannot hold fire."
The men had laughed afterward, dismissing it as a half-forgotten teaching from some obscure lineage. Even they did not fully understand it. But for Jin, it was like lightning in the dark.
He realized—every prodigy he had envied, every "genius" he had cursed, they all shared one thing in common: their bodies were tempered before they began to cultivate. Some had sects that drilled them mercilessly, others had masters who forced harsh training upon them, and some—rare few—were simply born with naturally sturdy vessels. But Jin? He had skipped straight into qi. His vessel had been shattered before it ever had a chance to hold fire.
By the time he learned this truth, it was already too late. His meridians were scarred, his body ruined, his foundation cracked beyond repair. No matter how much he clawed upward, he was always beneath those who had built themselves properly.
That regret had followed him to his grave.
But now—reborn—Jin clenched his fists as he pushed his body through yet another round of torment. Bones groaned, muscles screamed, his breath came ragged, but this time he welcomed the pain. Every wound was proof that he was reforging the vessel, that he was laying the foundation he never had.
The world still believed qi was everything. They still blindly crippled themselves in their hunger for shortcuts. Let them.
He alone knew the forgotten truth.
He alone had learned it at the price of a ruined life.
And in this life, he would build his vessel until it was unbreakable.
Only then would he let fire fill it.
⸻
Tomorrow, the breaking would begin.
But not just his body.
The world.
⸻
End of Chapter 3
Next Chapter – Chapter 4: Ash, Bone, and Blood