Since there was a first day, a second day arrived.
When the Four Villains said they’d be leaving for Baek Eung-ji early in the morning, Cheonak ca out to the front of the residence and silently looked at the three of them.
As Cheonak stared without saying a word, the Lecher spoke up.
“Senior, we’ll be off, then.”
Cheonak gave a nod and looked at the Sword Demon.
“Sword Demon.”
Eldest Brother nodded.
“You may speak.”
“I’ve always rembered the title of the man who said he left the cult of his own volition. I would’ve done the sa in his place. Take care.”
The Sword Demon smiled faintly at Cheonak.
“We’ll be going.”
I simply glanced at the Four Villains one by one as my farewell.
As soon as the three of them left the Steel Forge, Cheonak sat down on the low platform in the training yard and flexed his fist open and closed.
“Master, co here and have a seat.”
I sat on the ground across from Cheonak. We hadn’t even had breakfast yet, but Cheonak was flexing his fist like he was showing off its size before opening his palm.
“There’s a specific body part where outer and inner strength are most harmoniously expressed.”
I remained silent, just listening.
Cheonak showed his large hand and asked ,
“Where is it?”
Since he was showing his hand, it couldn’t be the hand itself.
“The palm?”
It felt like too obvious an answer to be correct.
Cheonak said,
“The palm isn’t wrong, but not at your level. The mont when internal and external strength blend most perfectly...”
He gave ti to think. A strange feeling ca over , and I couldn’t answer right away, but no matter how I turned it over in my head, there was only one answer.
“The middle finger?”
Cheonak looked at .
“Why the middle finger? Explain.”
Would I get smacked for saying sothing dumb? Even I thought it was a weird answer, so I hesitated a little.
Cheonak said,
“Even if it’s wrong, it’s fine.”
I cleared my throat and answered.
“...Well, because isn’t the middle finger the strongest when you flick soone’s forehead?”
“Hmm.”
He gave a tiger’s glare like he wanted to start a staring contest, but I didn’t flinch.
Talking about flicking foreheads with one of the strongest martial artists in the land...
I really have no sense of self-preservation, I thought—until Cheonak spoke again.
“That’s correct.”
“W-what?”
“I said, that’s the correct answer.”
“How could flicking be the right answer?”
Cheonak gestured to his fingers as he explained.
“Your answer already contains everything. I told you yesterday—there’s a point where inner and outer strength explode together.”
“You did.”
“For soone who hasn’t trained deeply, the only body part that can still produce explosive power is the middle finger. Think about it. Who flicks with their pinky? Or their ring finger? Index and thumb are the sa. The middle finger has a slight edge in destructive force.”
“Huh?”
“If you could strike the enemy only once with a single finger, which would it ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) be? It differs per person. Soone might have lost their middle finger in a fight, so they’d use another. But if you channel inner energy into the middle finger and strike as you described—with a flick—that’s the one-hit ‘Flicking Finger Art’ (Tanjigong) taught in various sects. Look at these five fingers. The difference in length isn’t that great, but when delivering a single-point attack, the middle finger is strongest. Whether by coincidence or not, the middle finger is the most complete.”
“......”
“I don’t know what kind of harmony of length and thickness makes it that way, but it’s the most suitable spot to combine inner and outer strength—an ideal body part. Usually, the thumb holds the middle finger in place, then releases it in a sudden burst, channeling all the power and qi into a single explosion. Are you following?”
“I am. I’ve done it plenty of tis.”
“Then imagine expanding that feeling to your entire body...”
“Hm.”
“The rest of your body isn’t yet ready to combine inner and outer strength.”
“So only my middle finger is at that level?”
“Sothing like that. You haven’t trained the rest, so you can’t apply it in battle. Most people are only using that explosive potential with the middle finger. Now imagine combining your palm’s force with the precision of a flicking strike—can it match the middle finger? It’s not about sheer impact. It’s about coordination.”
I paused to organize Cheonak’s words.
If I had to destroy a large boulder using only inner and outer strength through my finger, how would I do it? Piercing it directly would carry a high risk of injury. Of course, smashing it with a fist or palm would be possible.
But what Cheonak was trying to convey was:
A perfected fusion of inner and outer strength in a single blow.
A focused, explosive strike aid at a single point.
Beyond re internal energy or raw force—it's about transcending both through unity.
Like channeling Tanjigong through the middle finger...
You had to aim for that sa level of completion using other parts of the body as well.
At that mont, Habok ca out from the residence and stood quietly with both hands together in front.
When Cheonak looked at him, Habok finally spoke.
“Breakfast is ready.”
Cheonak replied,
“Bring two fist-sized rocks.”
“Yes, sir.”
Habok rushed off sowhere and soon returned, placing two large stones in front of Cheonak.
Cheonak grabbed one with his left hand, hooked his right thumb over his middle finger.
Tanjigong.
As the thumb restrained the middle finger, the nail turned white. When Cheonak finally released it, the compressed power exploded.
Pak!
The stone shattered.
Cheonak looked at .
“At close range, punches and palms can be predicted from the movent of the arm and shoulder. But the middle finger’s movent is hard to follow with the eyes. That ans its speed and trajectory are ideal. Shatter it.”
I grabbed a stone of equal size with my left hand and channeled the qi of Mokgye into my middle finger. Then I paused and tested the power I could apply with the index, ring, and pinky fingers. The middle finger clearly felt more stable and powerful.
I infused it with inner energy and struck using Tanjigong.
Puk!
The rock split apart, but the fragnts were much chunkier than Cheonak’s. His had shattered into fine bits. Mine cracked into three or four pieces.
Only then did Cheonak turn to Habok.
“What’s for breakfast?”
“Chicken, sir. Also, Pavilion Lord—I’ll be heading out for so market errands.”
“Go on.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cheonak stood and nudged with his foot.
“Co on. Let’s go eat chicken.”
“Senior, is it really possible to expand the feeling of a middle finger strike to the whole body? It sounds too difficult.”
“That’s why we train. If it were easy, why would we be lifting iron weights like maniacs?”
“True.”
“Once you understand the concept, the purpose of outer strength training becos clear.”
Even on the way to eat chicken, Cheonak kept explaining.
“It’s not just about increasing strength. The middle finger is already a perfect bowstring. The idea is to turn other parts of the body into the sa. You train the elasticity, the right thickness, the trajectory, the impact force, and the feeling when internal energy is infused. All of it is focused into one point—an explosion. All the assorted martial arts you’ve already learned are like arrows drawn on that bowstring of outer strength, piercing their targets. That’s the kind of training we’re doing.”
“Wow... hah.”
I scratched my nose unconsciously.
It was a simple yet profound martial theory.
At the sa ti, I realized I could understand it precisely because I had already learned many martial techniques, built up inner energy, and trained outer strength.
Outer strength functioning as a bowstring?
Who else could truly learn this martial art? Most high-level masters wouldn’t even understand what Cheonak was saying. They’d nod vaguely and get beaten to death for it. That’s how intricate this theory is.
Even though Cheonak was walking beside , I kept mulling things over and ended up muttering to myself.
“This is amazing.”
I used to think I valued outer strength, but Cheonak’s understanding and approach were on a whole other level. It felt like eting a true expert in what I’d always thought was important.
Once inside—
That Baek Ga bastard, face covered in bruises, was scarfing down chicken like mad.
“Holy crap.”
Looking at the table, it was one chicken per person. I stared at the whole boiled chicken in front of and was stunned.
How does a baby chick beco a steel turtle?
Aren’t I going through that process now?
Giseongja once trained fighting roosters as a hobby—maybe that’s how he broke through to the Golden Tortoise level.
Spending the second day at the Steel Forge devouring chicken filled with complicated emotions. Especially with the guy who secretly gave Geumgu Soyo Gong in my past life sitting next to , munching away.
Why is my life always so dramatic?
The White-Robed Scholar, gnawing on a chicken leg, said,
“Habok said he’s heading to the market.”
“I heard.”
The White-Robed Scholar stirred his chicken broth with chopsticks and said,
“No jujubes today.”
As soon as I spotted a jujube in my broth, I pushed it down with my chopsticks to hide it.
“......”
He asked Cheonak,
“Will he be back by lunch?”
“His light footwork’s improved. He’ll be back.”
The White-Robed Scholar chuckled.
“Even Sword Demon’s such a stickler. Leaving without breakfast. He may have co from the Demonic Cult, but he acts more like a Righteous Sect master.”
Cheonak silently ate his chicken.
I picked up my bowl with both hands and dumped the broth, ginseng, chicken, and jujubes into my mouth to chew all at once.
Cheonak said,
“Just because you teach outer strength doesn’t an anyone can follow it. Look at this one.”
‘This one’ was obviously the White-Robed Scholar.
“Too lazy by nature to endure the training.”
The Scholar corrected him,
“It’s not that I can’t endure it—I’m just heading in a different direction. Your thod could literally kill soone during training.”
This must be what it feels like to get a chicken bone stuck in your throat.
Anyway, the three of us cleaned our bowls. Then I realized—we’d just finished breakfast. And I had a bad feeling the second day hadn’t even truly started yet.
The one who dies during training—won’t be .
With chicken still sloshing in my belly, the White-Robed Scholar stood and looked down at with a strange expression.
“Have fun. You won’t find this kind of martial art anywhere else. It’s a fated opportunity. Be grateful. Seriously, Master, you’re one lucky guy.”
Just then, Cheonak stood.
“Let’s go.”
I let out a groan full of suppressed rage.
“Already?”
“Ti to digest. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Oh, good. A walk’s fine.”
As I headed out, I kept glancing back at the Scholar, who was grinning like an idiot.
I went on a walk with the tiger imdiately after eating. There hadn’t been any path before, but Cheonak must’ve walked it countless tis. Winding trails stretched all over. After descending and climbing a few ridges, I heard the sound of a waterfall.
“There’s a waterfall?”
Cheonak walked toward a rather large one and said,
“What’s outer strength?”
“A bowstring.”
“Then what’s the arrow?”
“That would be us. The body itself.”
“Can you see the path I’m talking about?”
In front of the waterfall, Cheonak suddenly took off his shirt and looked at . I definitely felt sothing and nodded.
“I think I can see it. It’s another realm. A martial path most don’t even notice, but also its essence. The Sword Demon said it feels like the first martial art.”
“The first martial art...”
Cheonak then entered the water, crossed the dragon’s pool, and stepped into the plunging torrent like lightning.
Watching this—there really was no other word.
He’s out of his mind.
‘Why is he going in there? What the hell for?’
Cheonak stood under the crashing waterfall, letting it strike his crown, and looked at .
“Master.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you learn anything from , at the very least, you must master this. I am the arrow that flies against the current.”
“......”
I stared at Cheonak, eyes wide.
Then, under the waterfall, he crouched slightly—and shot upward toward the falling stream.
Chrrrrrrrrrrrrshhh!
Cheonak burst through the downpour with his whole body, rising like he was flying. The straight line of the waterfall shattered like mad. It looked like a berserk tiger possessed by madness, or a dragon ascending to the heavens.
Even after piercing the waterfall in one motion, Cheonak soared higher and finally landed to the right of the falls, looking back at .
“Co up.”
At that command, my legs gave out and I plopped down on my butt.
“......”
“If you don’t want to be beaten to death, you’d better try. Failing is fine. Think of it as a way to asure the total of your inner and outer strength.”
I looked up at Cheonak.
“At least give a thod.”
“I told you, didn’t I? Inner and outer explosion. Bowstring. Arrow. Explosion.”
Sohow, that aningless sequence of words now carried aning for . Ridiculous.
“I understand.”
I stripped off my shirt, leaped over the dragon pool, and entered the waterfall. The pounding water slamd into from above. It was so absurd, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Crouching low, I planted one fist on the ground and gathered my inner and outer strength into my lower body.
Then I unleashed it toward the waterfall like an explosion.
I am the explosion.
I am the bowstring and the arrow.
I tore through the crashing torrent and soared upward.
Strangely, it didn’t feel bad at all...
...but I didn’t even co close.
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