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Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Obtaining a Stroke of Fortune - 1
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Inside the cavern, the tunnels were roughly divided into four.
Seon-u first examined the initial tunnel.
The first tunnel appeared to be a storage space for food, as it contained about five jars brimming with nutrient pills.
Seon-u pulled out one nutrient pill and tasted it.
No matter how perfectly these pills supplemented nutrition during closed-door training as a complete meal replacement, after twenty years, he had to consider the possibility they might have spoiled.
Crunch.
The nutrient pill had an exceptionally satisfying chew to it.
Munch, munch.
After a couple of chews, it broke down into a smooth, fine texture.
Of course, the taste was utterly foul, but there was no sourness typical of spoiled food.
Confirming the nutrient pills were fine, Seon-u began counting how many remained.
In High School Senior Goes to the Murim!, the nutrient pills were described as complete foods possessing enough calories and nutrition to sustain one's muscles and body weight for an entire day with just one pill.
Assuming one pill lasted a day, he started roughly calculating how many days' worth he had.
'About two hundred per jar, and there are five jars... that should easily last around three years.'
Fortunately, the nutrient pills were abundant beyond measure.
Of course, that assumed none had spoiled.
Lee Jae-won had spent roughly two months in this hideout.
Throwing plausibility out the window as a munchkin-style novel, he'd stepped into the Flower Realm from the Absolute Peak in just those two months.
Thanks to that, the depletion of the nutrient pills had been minimal.
For the first time, Seon-u felt a twinge of gratitude toward the author.
If he'd been stuck here for years on end, he'd have starved to death.
With his worries about food alleviated, Seon-u breathed a sigh of relief.
Anyway, he just needed to hold out for a couple more months until Lee Jae-won finished his training excursion and came looking for him. The nutrient pills would tide him over until then.
Living off nothing but nutrient pills for months would be torture for someone with modern tastes like Seon-u, but it beat dying.
Having fully inspected the nutrient pills, Seon-u left the first tunnel and headed to the second.
The entrance to the second tunnel was uniquely sealed with an iron door.
It was a stark contrast to the wide-open first tunnel.
Creeeak.
Screech.
He shoved the door open, and it swung inward with a groan from the rusted hinges.
Before him lay swords, blades, spears, bows, halberds, whips, wheels, gauntlets—even suits of armor—neatly organized by type.
Weapons sorted by category were further arranged by size.
It seemed the iron door had been to protect this armory for iron weapons.
Seon-u gaped in awe at the grand spectacle of countless weapons arrayed by type.
It felt like someone had prepared everything imaginable, just in case.
'What a wasteful spendthrift...'
The sheer volume made it impossible to guess how much money had been poured into this.
Composing himself, Seon-u, ever the swordsman, first approached the stack of swords and inspected their condition.
Shing.
Unlike the weathered scabbards marked by time, the blades within radiated tremendous sharpness.
This level of edge would produce a clear ringing worthy of a famed sword from outside.
"Jackpot!"
Seon-u set the sword down, already planning to take a few to sell later.
After a cursory check of the second tunnel, he moved on to the third.
Like the armory tunnel, the third was sealed with a door, but oddly, it was made of wood rather than iron.
Unable to hide his curiosity, Seon-u opened it.
A cool temperature and faint herbal fragrance wafted out immediately.
'No way—elixir herbs!?'
Hoping against hope, Seon-u quickly scanned the interior.
Inside the wooden door stood rows of box-like containers lined up neatly.
He grabbed one and swiftly opened it.
Click.
Within was a single cured rehmannia root, emanating a rich earthy scent.
Seeing it, Seon-u couldn't contain his excitement.
He'd hoped, and sure enough...
The third tunnel was an elixir storage room.
Seon-u examined the rehmannia closely.
In wuxia novels, this was one of the most iconic elixir herbs.
Its age was judged by size, and this one was clearly at least a century old.
He quickly closed the box and eyed the others with gleaming anticipation.
Plenty remained.
Grinning ear to ear, Seon-u popped open another.
Click.
Unfortunately, it was empty.
'...Well, yeah. The protagonist must've eaten some, so not all would be full.'
His expectations tempered slightly, but with so many boxes, hope lingered.
Surely he hadn't devoured them all in just a couple months.
Click.
Click.
Click.
But box after box turned up empty—no trace of elixirs.
"What the hell?! Did he eat them all?!"
Click.
Click.
Click.
Having emptied every box, Seon-u despaired.
Aside from that first century-old rehmannia, there was nothing noteworthy.
"You crazy bastard! Eating all this by yourself?! And logically, you'd have to refill them after!"
Seon-u couldn't hold back his justified rant at the protagonist. He had to vent or burst.
Suddenly, the protagonist's absurd martial arts progress made sense.
He'd been doping on pills.
"Drug-addled punk. Hope you get erectile dysfunction and go bald."
After cursing the junkie, Seon-u pocketed the century-old rehmannia and prepared to leave the third tunnel.
But then, in the bottom corner of that very box, he spotted a tiny one tucked away.
Curious, he pulled it out and opened it.
Inside was a small jade vial.
"What's this?"
Seon-u uncorked it.
Pop.
A refreshing sound accompanied a cool, invigorating aroma that filled his nostrils.
"Az... Azure Spirit Oil?!?!"
Incredibly, the liquid was Azure Spirit Oil.
Though Jang Sam had been a musclehead, as the Heavenly Martial Alliance Lord's prized disciple, he'd consumed countless elixirs in his youth.
Even if it was long ago, he'd once received a single drop of Azure Spirit Oil, allowing him to identify it now.
"Holy shit!!!!!!"
Seon-u's joy brought curses spilling out naturally.
Azure Spirit Oil, said to grant explosive inner energy from a single drop—and here was a whole vial full.
No one was out to kill him, it seemed.
A speck of gratitude toward the author welled up, like an ant's toenail.
Lee Jae-won's carelessness had unwittingly brought him this fortune.
"Author, thanks. If I meet you, I'll kill you painlessly."
His promised reward: a swift death.
Seon-u resealed the jade vial and carefully placed it back in its box.
He set both boxes side by side in their original spot and exited the tunnel.
He itched to consume it right then to boost his inner energy, but exploring the tunnels came first.
He had time, after all.
Seon-u headed straight for the fourth tunnel.
Its door was an iron slab thick with rust.
Creeeak, groan.
More warped than the others, it refused to budge easily.
"Nngh."
Straining in vain, Seon-u circulated his inner energy.
Hummm.
Power surged through his limbs.
Creeeeeeeeeeak.
At last, the door yielded, revealing the fourth tunnel's secret.
As it swung open, the musty scent of ancient paper filled the air, like an old bookstore.
Inside, countless manuals lined the shelves densely.
The fourth tunnel was a secret arts repository.
Seon-u pulled out a few at random and skimmed the titles.
He was stunned.
Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Swordsmanship, Shaolin's One Hundred Step Divine Fist, Geomchang's Four-Day Sword Method, Beggar Clan's Striking Dog Rod Technique, Namgung's True Heaven Ten Thunders Sword, Muyong's Galaxy Swordsmanship—countless orthodox faction secret arts.
Seon-u's jaw dropped.
He'd guessed there might be decent techniques, but this crossed every line.
What were secret arts, if not techniques passed down only to descendants in utmost secrecy?
Yet here they were, donated to the Murim Alliance? Plausibility be damned—this was beyond the pale.
Especially since martial arts techniques could be countered if their forms or traits leaked.
A true warrior would die before letting their sect or family's arts fall into enemy hands.
At least, that's how Seon-u knew the jianghu to be.
But the author of High School Senior Goes to the Murim! showed zero respect for wuxia lore.
"Crazy bastard."
Seon-u spat a curse.
Yet viewing the manuals from Jang Sam's perspective reignited gratitude toward the author.
As a peak-level master, merely studying these faction secrets could lead to tremendous breakthroughs.
Even if not of his lineage, the insights within were universally applicable.
Each sect or clan interpreted and annotated insights differently—some abstract as grasping at clouds, others grounded in practicality.
Successive generations refined them further, making them simpler and more efficient.
Thus, arts evolved with history, strengthening sects and clans.
Obtaining these clan secrets was Seon-u's greatest stroke of fortune—no exaggeration.
He could steal centuries of their accumulated history effortlessly.
The author of High School Senior Goes to the Murim! had abysmal writing skill and plausibility as a novelist—repulsive, even.
Yet plunged into the story, that trash plausibility had saved his life and granted elixirs and manuals to grow stronger.
The reader's disgust clashed with the warrior's gratitude, amplifying the dissonance.
"What if I end up kissing the guy when we meet?"
The thought made Seon-u uneasy.
Fused with Jang Sam, his advantages were martial knowledge and twenty years' foresight; the downside, these emotional conflicts.
Two souls as one naturally blended feelings, but he refused to forgive the author he'd once hated like poison.
"Gotta slit his throat before the hatred dilutes."
Vowing inwardly, Seon-u resumed browsing the shelves.
The collection wasn't limited to orthodox arts.
From seduction techniques to killer arts, demonic arts, evil sorcery, Buddhist arts, even outsider techniques—everything was there.
A fitting pinnacle of convenience for an author who'd fed plausibility to the dogs.
No more scoffing.
He decided to enjoy this garbage setup.
He itched to nitpick, but let it slide.
Having possessed this novel, he was no longer a reader—he was a warrior.
Access to such manuals was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for any martial artist.
His mind cleared as priorities aligned.
To survive.
To return home.
"I'll exploit even this trash setup."
Seon-u began sifting for useful techniques.
He planned to study most orthodox arts, but approached demonic or seduction arts cautiously—the risks of mere reading were high.
He yearned for quick-attainment, devastating demonic arts, but practicing them would irrevocably turn the Heavenly Martial Alliance against him.
Dull Demon Tyrant Divine Art, Ghostkill Qi Method, Traceless Killing Technique, Heaven-Death Qi Art—terrifying names abounded, but he discarded them without regret.
Then, in a dusty corner, a tattered manual caught his eye.
Seon-u picked it up.
"Whew~"
Blowing off thick dust, he read the title.
Yin-Yang Harmony Divine Art
The title screamed seduction technique at first glance.
Intrigued, Seon-u opened it and read.
I am Lee Ho-seon.
The world calls me the Yin-Yang Demon and trembles in fear.
Born neither fully man nor woman, I endured scorn and ridicule...
"What!? Yin-Yang Demon?!?!"
Seon-u's eyes widened like saucers at the author's moniker.