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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Disciple Yi Pung - [2]
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In most places, building owners were seen as life's winners, but not in this neighborhood. Here, villas or commercial buildings went for peanuts. Who in their right mind would open a shop and do business in a dump full of paupers and thugs?
Heo Pung-gae's commercial residence was practically worthless too. It was three stories tall, but he only had three studio rooms to rent out. No one had ever leased the first-floor commercial space.
So Heo Pung-gae used the building himself. He made one room on the second floor his living quarters and ran an acupuncture clinic out of the first-floor shop.
The clinic was famous in the martial world, known as a place you didn't mess with lightly. Thanks to that, business had always been peaceful while he ran it.
Who would dare touch Invincible BB Bullet's turf, after all?
"Which bastards did this?"
Heo Pung-gae narrowed his eyes. His gaze was fixed on the shattered glass windows of the clinic, refusing to budge.
"Local thugs? Or some punks with backing?"
The inside was no better than the windows. Tables and chairs were smashed to splinters, scattered everywhere. It looked like they'd come with the deliberate intent to wreck the place.
Rage boiled up, but it wasn't exactly a shock. Invincible BB Bullet had made enemies everywhere. A little payback while he was locked up was par for the course.
"No idea, boss. A few weeks back? Some guys broke in at night. If you'd told us you were getting out early, I'd have had the boys clean it up ages ago... Should I call a cleaning crew for tomorrow?"
Heo Pung-gae nodded at Yi Pung's words.
"Yeah, do that."
"Sorry you had to see this mess right after coming back after so long. Anyway, congratulations on getting out—even if it's late. You got cash for now? Want some release gift money?"
"Nah. I'm heading in."
Yi Pung bowed politely and turned away.
Left alone, Heo Pung-gae took another look at the clinic's wreckage and sighed.
It had only been two days since his release. Most people would be easing back into the world, taking it easy, but he couldn't afford that.
He hated wasting time, so restarting clinic business ASAP was the play. That meant cleaning now.
Once Yi Pung was fully gone, Heo Pung-gae got to work.
He swept up the glass shards and wood chips from the floor with a broom, picked up trash, and dragged the broken furniture outside. It was daunting alone, but he pressed on silently.
As he kept at it, someone approached.
The guy silently grabbed tongs and started helping without a word. Heo Pung-gae recognized the face.
One of Yi Pung's underlings. The young punk who'd swung a baseball bat like he was splitting skulls?
"No need. You can go."
The young man gave an awkward smile at Heo Pung-gae's words.
"We're gonna be working together from now on, right? Gotta help each other out and get along."
Heo Pung-gae almost snapped at him to scram, but held back. Cleaning solo would take forever.
Still, accepting one-sided favors felt off, so he said,
"Not like there's anything I can do for you in return."
"Why not? There's plenty."
"Like what?"
"Boss said I should learn martial arts from you. Just thirty minutes a day..."
"You want me to check your skills?"
"That a no?"
It didn't sound like idle talk. The guy genuinely seemed interested in martial arts.
"Come to think of it, you were the best of the three back there."
The young man's face lit up at Heo Pung-gae's words.
"You think so?"
"Yeah."
Grinning proudly, the young man said,
"Believe it or not, I ate some spirit herbs as a kid."
Heo Pung-gae raised an eyebrow. Spirit herbs were pricey. No average family could afford them.
"Rich folks, huh? So why work in a place like this?"
"We were loaded back then, not anymore. If Mom hadn't stood surety for Aunt, I'd still be chowing down on spirit herbs..."
He explained that he'd learned martial arts alongside the herbs from a local sect—proper training.
Nothing unusual there. While regular kids went to taekwondo dojos, rich ones learned martial arts.
It cost a fortune in pricey herbs to master properly, but it was worth it. Real training guaranteed better health, sharper mind, and longer life.
Martial arts weren't the rich's playground for nothing. One of Korea's top masters was a CEO, right?
"Name?"
"Yi Do-hyeok."
Heo Pung-gae eyed Yi Do-hyeok, then nodded.
"Fine, I'll take a look sometime. That settle it?"
"Nah, one more thing... You said you're Invincible BB Bullet's disciple?"
"Yeah."
"Tell me about him?"
"Why?"
"Huge fan."
Heo Pung-gae's eyebrow twitched.
"Fan of Invincible BB Bullet?"
"Why else would I work for the boss? Heard he was business partners with the great hero, so I sought him out on purpose."
Yi Do-hyeok explained proudly, and Heo Pung-gae's expression turned odd.
Plenty had claimed to be his followers over the years. But he hadn't expected to run into one while hiding his identity.
"He hates people blabbing about him."
"Oh, really? Guess that's that, then."
Surprisingly, Yi Do-hyeok seemed like a true fan. He dropped the begging at one word from his idol.
They cleaned well into the night before finishing. Finally, bedtime.
They headed up to the second floor.
As Heo Pung-gae opened his door, Yi Do-hyeok grinned beside him.
"Neighbors, huh?"
After a "good work" nod, Heo Pung-gae entered his place.
It was his old room. Not the nicest, but tucked in the corner with extra soundproofing—the quietest. No fancy furniture, not even a TV or fridge. The spartan setup screamed his lifestyle.
Heo Pung-gae sat cross-legged in the center.
Bedtime had come and gone, but sleep could wait. He'd skipped evening training for cleaning. Late, but now was the time.
He had to. He needed to become an immortal ASAP.
Even after achieving Return to Youth—a martial artist's dream—his lifespan was short.
He'd gained some from it, maybe ten years.
But not much more. That's what he knew.
History had rejuvenated masters, but none lived over two centuries. If youth returned, why not lifespan?
Because it wasn't true youth. Looks yes, but soul aged, telomeres unrestored.
Records showed most lasted about 130 years—human limit. He'd die at 120.
Become immortal within ten years, or die of old age. The death he'd feared since youth.
To avoid it, no rest. He tackled his overdue training diligently.
Breathing Exercise, prayer, and visualization...
That done, last task.
He opened the worn ledger.
Merit-Demerit Ledger: Daily good deeds and sins scored.
Merits add points, demerits subtract. He tallied today's.
Violence without injury: -1 demerit. Prayer for world's fortune: +1 merit. Cleaning himself: +1 merit. Barely even.
Keep merits high to ascend. Daoist ethics demand piled merits for immortality.
But merits alone won't do it—the path is treacherous. Few cultivators succeed.
A long day, but one step from death's door.
Heo Pung-gae sighed deeply and turned in.
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Heo Pung-gae had run the clinic for twenty-six years. Practicing Acupoint Strike taught him meridians; familiarity bred acupuncture skill.
As a martial artist, main income was murim work, not treatments. But laundering shady cash needed a legit front. Acupuncture fees were flexible—perfect for fudging books.
More crucially, treating people counted as merits in the ledger.
No reason not to stack steady merits and cash.
Best things first. At dawn, he hung the "Open" sign.
Yi Pung gawked at the spotless clinic.
"Glass isn't even fixed yet—why the rush..."
"Nothing else to do. Got something better lined up?"
"No. Takes time to line up work for you. Hang tight, no whining."
Inevitable. Couldn't flaunt Invincible BB Bullet's name anymore. Needed to prove himself publicly for real murim gigs.
Showing strength? Easy for Invincible BB Bullet.
Yi Pung off to his tasks, Heo Pung-gae waited for patients.
None came right away. Fresh reopen, no foot traffic—expected.
Idle time? Training, prison-style. Taijiquan, breath work...
First patient arrived four hours later.
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