Dungeon & Commander

Chapter 18 - Mission: Down Five



Dungeon & Commander – 18

 

Choi Min-soo unleashed the Destruction Hand.

His hand, now semi-transparent, was powerful enough to tear through anything.

Choi Moo-hyun’s only defense was the Golden Wall.

Though the Golden Wall was pushed back three meters, it managed to block the Destruction Hand.

“Moonlight Golden Heart Technique. You learned it too, Father.”

“Did Go Chul-min tell you that? That guy’s been running his mouth.”

“The master didn’t say anything. I found out while studying the raid video.”

Choi Moo-hyun omitted mentioning Kim Joon.

His father, who didn’t recognize the value of a carrier, would likely judge Kim Joon with prejudice if he heard about him.

“Haha, studying? You? Cheol-min is better than me. He’s changed you like this.”

Despite his words, Choi Min-soo continued to press his son with the Heavenly Destruction Art. Techniques like the Blood-Breaking Palm and the Heavenly Extreme Fist, part of the Heavenly Destruction Art, were unleashed in succession.

“I saw you use the Golden Fist there.”

Choi Moo-hyun, constantly being pushed back, blocked solely with the Golden Wall.

“I always thought there would come a time to talk about this. The Heavenly Destruction Art is an incomplete martial art. Even if you keep practicing, there are limits. In contrast, the Moonlight Golden Heart Technique is a complete martial art. It’s simple, but once you master it, it can exert much more power. It will also help if you learn other techniques later.”

“…Father.”

Choi Moo-hyun’s eyes grew moist.

“Now, take your stance. I want to see your Golden Fist.”

His father crossed his arms.

Taking a deep breath, Choi Moo-hyun placed his hands at his waist, spread his legs, and lowered his center of gravity. His inner energy naturally flowed through his legs to his feet and then surged back up from the Yongcheon point.

It was the basic stance of the Golden Fist, the Hyunjung Stance!

“Not bad.”

At that sparse praise, Choi Moo-hyun clenched his fists, causing his inner energy to waver and nearly making his knees buckle.

“I haven’t been training for long. So, it’s not up to your standards.”

He spoke in a sullen voice.

“The shell is excellent. But it lacks substance. That’s the problem.”

“Substance?”

“You won’t understand until you see it for yourself.”

Choi Min-soo took the same stance as his son.

Creak.

The sound of the solid wooden floor twisting.

Moments later, there was a ‘thud’ as the floorboard beneath him broke. It couldn’t withstand Choi Min-soo’s weight.

Choi Moo-hyun’s mouth hung open. It was clearly the Hyunjung Stance! How could it be so powerful?

When Choi Min-soo released the stance, the floorboards twisted again.

“It’s the Jirye Stance.”

“…It’s not the Hyunjung Stance?”

“Hyunjung Stance is the shell; Jirye Stance is the substance.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s not something just anyone can learn. If Hyunjung Stance is the day, Jirye Stance is the night. Everyone can see clearly during the day, but at night, you can only recognize each other in places where there’s light.”

His father approached and whispered in his ear. It was the method of utilizing inner energy for the Jirye Stance.

The key was the serpent coiled around the earth! The inner energy flowing down through the legs spiraled like a coiled snake. One leg sent the inner energy down, while the other leg drew up the inner energy combined with the earth’s energy.

Choi Moo-hyun was speechless at the profound principle.

“Now, it’s your turn.”

His father stepped back, hands behind his back.

Who would have thought that the difficulty of the stance could change so drastically depending on the flow of inner energy?

Sweat poured down. Rotating his inner energy was far more challenging than he had imagined. He couldn’t give up. Choi Moo-hyun wanted to achieve something, anything, in front of his father.

His legs trembled.

The floorboards creaked. It wasn’t the sound he wanted. It should have been the groan that comes from being pressed by a heavy force.

His father approached and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. A torrent of inner energy flowed down to his legs. His father’s inner energy, guiding his struggling son’s inner energy along the path of the Jirye Stance, was intense.

‘Ah! The shaking stopped. It’s not hard at all.’

At that moment, Choi Moo-hyun could feel the energy rising from his left sole.

When his father removed his hand, that blissful experience ended.

His son felt a pang of regret.

“Now, shall we play for real?”

His father doubled the intensity of his inner energy. Up until now, he had been playing around.

His son could feel the power in his skin.

“F-Father?”

“Here I come.”

A groan escaped.

Those outside the training room, listening to the situation inside, looked at each other and felt pity for Choi Moo-hyun.

Two hours later, Choi Moo-hyun crawled out of the training room, almost on all fours.

“He’s so weak.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Choi Moo-hyun mentally canceled the admiration he had felt for his father moments ago. His father… would never change. He decided not to have any expectations.

Still, he felt lighter.

He wasn’t a son abandoned by his father due to lack of talent.

Barely making it out of Heavenly Soul, Choi Moo-hyun called Kim Joon. The phone rang without an answer.

“Is he still training?”

Choi Moo-hyun hailed a taxi.

When he arrived at the Uramata guild house, he smelled the savory aroma of fried food. Chicken and beer were laid out, with Yeom Sang-taek and Kim Joon sitting in front of it.

“Choi Moo-hyun!”

Kim Joon waved.

Choi Moo-hyun shook his head and walked over.

====

***

====

The sky gradually brightened.

The shadows cast by buildings slowly shrank, and the roads began to fill with cars. Kim Joon, who had woken up early again, was running.

Buses spewing exhaust, taxis skilled at cutting in, trucks loaded with cargo, and cars driven by people heading to work filled the roads, with a few motorcycles weaving through the traffic.

Kim Joon mostly ran in the narrow space between the road and the sidewalk.

Nearly three years of running.

When he thought, his body screamed in protest.

Running with a clear mind was best. This was the secret Kim Joon had learned with his body and mind over the years.

Focusing silently on taking one step at a time was the only way to continue the arduous daily run.

He was still just a carrier, but these days, he was happy.

He could at least beat Yoo Min-jung in running, who persistently challenged him.

Yeom Sang-taek had become just as close to Choi Moo-hyun.

Choi Moo-hyun was visiting his father three times a week to learn the Golden Fist.

He was satisfied just not being ignored and maintaining his presence among the three raiders.

At that moment, a motorcycle roared up from behind.

“Hey, you idiot! Go run on a school track!”

Kim Joon instinctively dodged the fist swung by the helmeted man, but he stepped on a loose stone and stumbled.

Due to his running speed, he tumbled sideways, hit a ginkgo tree, and rolled onto the sidewalk. Fortunately, there were no passersby.

“Serves you right, you bastard! Hahaha!”

The motorcyclist’s laughter faded into the distance.

Kim Joon glared at the retreating motorcycle, his eyes filled with determination. He tried to get up quickly, but his twisted ankle sent a sharp pain through him, contorting his face.

“Damn it.”

His insides churned with anger.

He limped along but soon sat on an old chair in front of a closed pharmacy. How long would it take to calm his anger? Getting mad alone wouldn’t help.

The road was a lawless place.

People turned into primal warriors the moment they put their hands on the steering wheel.

This kind of thing happened more often than one might think.

Getting angry every time would only harm oneself.

Fifteen minutes had already passed. It meant he had to revise his training plan for the day. His temper flared up again.

The phone rang.

Kim Joon’s lips curled into a smile as he pulled out his phone.

“What brings you to call me this early?”

―Wow, you answered today. You usually ignore calls when you’re running.

“I’m taking a break. I’ll hang up soon.”

Implying to get to the point quickly.

―Finally! I finally succeeded! Last night, my father still looked displeased, but he nodded in approval.

The voice was filled with excitement.

“Wow, that’s amazing. You’ve truly mastered the Golden Fist.”

―Haha, it’s all thanks to you. I’ll treat you to something nice later. See you at the guild house.

Choi Moo-hyun hung up first.

Kim Joon stared at his phone blankly. He almost dropped it from his weakened grip.

He had struggled to get this far, but it felt like his friend was leaping ahead. It was like a sports car zooming past a bicycle that had just started to pedal faster.

He barely managed to shove his phone back into his backpack and stood up.

“…I should get going.”

He walked slowly on the sidewalk before stepping onto the road, gradually increasing his speed, though it couldn’t yet be called running.

Kim Joon stopped at a traffic light.

Next to him were people who had left home early for work, waiting for the light to change.

“Did you hear? The dungeon is reopening.”

“Thank goodness. We’ll get to see Lee Hwan again.”

“I prefer Yoo Wan-seop.”

“Yoo Wan-seop is done for. According to the Daily Raiders, he’s holed up at home and doesn’t come out.”

“I don’t care. As long as Lee Hwan is there.”

The conversation naturally reached his ears.

For several days now, news had been reporting the Dungeon Association’s decision to reopen major dungeons nationwide on August 22nd.

Quick-footed reporters rushed to famous guilds to compete for coverage, resulting in various stories being shared with the public.

Even a reporter came to the Uramata guild house. Of course, none of the stories that an excited Go Chul-min spat out made it into the newspaper.

Kim Joon barely managed to calm his rising anxiety.

‘I’m… a carrier. At Uramata, I’m somewhat recognized, but a carrier is still a carrier. In the dungeon, my role is just to clean up and collect cores. That’s the carrier’s duty.’

Kim Joon turned from the sidewalk onto the road.

He focused on the soles of his running shoes hitting the asphalt. He had to concentrate on that to keep running.

Gradually, the dungeon-related news faded from his mind.

Instead, rhythmic breathing, legs pushing off the ground as if flying forward, and arms cutting through the air filled his thoughts.

The pain melted away.

An immense joy washed over his body. The powerful effect of endorphins!

Runner’s high!

The overwhelming pleasure felt only by those who run!

Recently, when the runner’s high hit, he felt a strange sensation.

Even though he was running along the edge of the road, looking ahead, he could fully perceive his sides and even behind him.

His senses became not only vivid but also detailed.

It felt as if his body was running on its own.

He heard a familiar engine sound.

Kim Joon maintained his speed and moved onto the sidewalk, passing between the trees.

At that moment, the motorcyclist who had swung a fist at him lost balance.

The motorcycle veered wildly and crashed into a utility pole, its wheel axle snapping from the impact. The man stumbled and then smashed his head into the glass front of a convenience store.

The large glass pane cracked.

The store owner, a muscular man who could have been a fitness trainer, came out.

“Hey, you bastard!”

The helmeted man shouted.

It was the same guy who had hit Kim Joon earlier. He must have seen Kim Joon while heading somewhere else and decided to approach him.

“What’s going on here?”

The owner frowned, and the man fell silent.

Kim Joon couldn’t hold back his laughter and continued running. Even the traffic lights seemed to be on his side now, making up for the 15 minutes he had wasted resting.

Kim Joon surrendered himself to this peculiar, prolonged runner’s high. The road was no longer a lawless place.

His body ran on its own. The wind rushing past his ears grew louder as his speed increased.

More people began to notice him. People on buses pointed at him, and some took pictures with their phones.

The blissful experience was shattered by a scream.

Kim Joon slowed down as he exited the road and saw a short elderly woman.

She looked to be over 70 and was pointing at a man running away in the distance. The man was holding an old bag.

“Thief! Thief!”

Kim Joon was already running.

He thought he would catch up quickly, but the distance didn’t close. When the thief noticed Kim Joon chasing him, the gap widened. Despite running leisurely, the thief was surprisingly fast.

‘He’s faster than Yoo Min-jung.’

Kim Joon turned a corner into an alley and threw his sandbag to the side. He was ready to run in earnest. Freed from the sandbag, Kim Joon let out a shout.

“Let’s run.”

His speed was incomparable.

The thief, startled, ran into a dead-end alley.

Kim Joon blocked the entrance. He was out of breath.

“Who are you?”

The man, who looked to be in his early twenties, glared at Kim Joon. He was also breathing heavily.

“Give it back.”

Kim Joon pointed at the bag.

“Do you really think I’m a pickpocket? Well, I guess it might look that way. But I’m not. Absolutely not.”

“The bag.”

Kim Joon insisted.

“You don’t understand, do you? It’s all true.”

The pickpocket grinned slyly.

Kim Joon pointed at the bag with his finger.

“You’ll get hurt if you keep this up.”

The man cracked his knuckles.

“Will I?”

Kim Joon smiled and stepped forward.

Without warning, the man’s fist shot out, and Kim Joon barely dodged it, startled. His composure vanished.

The speed of that punch was almost like a pitching machine throwing at 150 kilometers per hour. Was this guy a professional boxer?

“Well, well.”

The punches came in earnest.

Kim Joon’s face hardened as he struggled to dodge them. If he couldn’t even catch a pickpocket, he couldn’t dream of being more than a carrier.

Whoosh.

The man’s foot aimed for Kim Joon’s side.

Kim Joon swung his elbow like he was hitting a baseball. If it connected properly, the man’s ankle might break.

Fortunately, the pickpocket cursed and backed off.

“You’re a raider, aren’t you?”

Kim Joon was too out of breath to respond. Instead, he analyzed the man’s style in his head.

The punches were similar to boxing jabs and straights. The kicks… resembled Taekwondo.

“How do you know the old lady? Ah, you’re her new disciple, right?”

“Disciple?”

“You’ll get used to it soon. I have to steal the core that the old lady always carries by the end of this week. If I fail, I’ll be kicked out. Ah, it’s not here either! Damn it! If it’s not in the bag, where is it?”

The man complained as he rummaged through the bag, unable to find what he wanted.

Kim Joon was bewildered.

Seeing his expression, the man grinned.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

The pickpocket threw the bag at Kim Joon and then kicked the wall, vaulting over the fence.

Holding the bag, Kim Joon almost collapsed from the release of tension. Slowly exiting the alley, he realized how vast the world was.

He needed to get faster.

He needed to get stronger.

His sense of satisfaction shattered.

Kim Joon handed the bag to the elderly woman.

Her eyes sparkled as she stared at the bag.

“You managed to get the bag from that rascal grandson of mine.”

“…Grandson?”

Kim Joon had thought the pickpocket was just a strange man, but he never imagined he was this old lady’s grandson. It seemed both of them had some mental issues.

The old lady’s hands roamed over his stomach, chest, arms, and thighs.

“…Grandma?”

“Thank you, young man. You’ve got a great body. This old lady is smitten.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Where did I put my business card? It’s somewhere around here. Ah, here it is.”

She pulled out a crumpled business card from inside the bag and handed it to Kim Joon.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.