"Hmm?"
Ungeom, who had just gotten up, frowned as he saw the bright light streaming through the window.
'These kids.'
Hwasan's rules were quite strict.
In the past, when the master-disciple relationship was still intact, disciples had to wake up earlier than their master, greet them, and prepare breakfast.
Times had changed, and such master-disciple relationships were no longer maintained, but the disciples in Baekmaegwan were still supposed to take turns waking Ungeom, the overseer of Baekmaegwan, and greet him in the morning.
But today, no one had come to greet him.
"Tsk. These brats."
He had been lenient with them for a while, and now they had grown lazy.
Ungeom frowned as he got up from his seat.
The fact that no one had come to greet him didn't mean that only those who were supposed to greet him were still asleep. If someone had been awake, they would have woken the others. This meant that all the kids in Baekmaegwan were still asleep.
'Come to think of it...'
He remembered that a new kid had joined Baekmaegwan yesterday.
"These brats are at it again..."
Ungeom's brow furrowed slightly.
He already knew that the kids had some strange initiation rituals. As a master, he should have put a stop to it, but group living required a certain level of camaraderie among the kids.
Jo Geol, that troublemaker, might go overboard, but with Yun Jong around, he could rein things in before they got out of hand.
However, the fact that no one had come to greet him this morning suggested that yesterday's welcoming ceremony might have been a bit too intense.
Ungeom quickly changed his clothes, donning his Taoist robe and strapping his sword to his waist. He hurriedly opened the door and stepped outside.
'I'll have to give them a good scolding.'
With determined steps, Ungeom headed toward Baekmaegwan.
As soon as Baekmaegwan came into view, he planned to shout and wake the sleeping kids. But just as he turned the corner...
"Wh... What?!"
Ungeom, who had been about to yell, "Wake up!" suddenly stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening to the size of lanterns.
'What... what is this?'
He rubbed his eyes, but the bizarre scene before him didn't change.
'Is this hell?'
For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating, but he quickly snapped out of it.
This was Hwasan! So whatever was happening before his eyes was also happening in Hwasan.
But he couldn't understand why such a scene was unfolding.
Was he seeing things?
Ungeom rubbed his eyes again and blinked, but the scene remained the same.
"Uh..."
Not knowing how to react, Ungeom let out an awkward groan. At the same time, he heard desperate groans coming from the kids.
"Ugh... Ugh!"
"Ah... I'm dying. Ah..."
"Mom... please take me home."
Ungeom stared blankly at the kids groaning on the ground.
"..."
Are these really the kids I know?
Kids can be like that sometimes. Their ignorance can sometimes cause trouble, and their mischief can be disappointing.
But the pure innocence of children often warms the hearts of those who see them.
However, there was no trace of that liveliness in the kids before him now.
'Why do they look like rags?'
Where had the fresh-faced kids he knew gone? All that remained were these kids, looking like beggars.
Ungeom looked around in shock.
"Ugh..."
"I'm dying... I'm really dying."
Ungeom blinked as he examined the kids sprawled on the ground.
'Are these really my disciples?'
They looked... a bit... no, a lot worse than before, but the blackened figures were unmistakably his disciples, the third-generation disciples of Baekmaegwan.
'What on earth happened?'
What could have turned the fresh-faced kids from yesterday into beggars overnight?
Scattered around the kids, who looked like rags, were wooden swords and sacks.
What were those?
Ungeom knew what he had to do. If there was a limit to his imagination, there was no need to strain his brain. After all, there were over a hundred mouths here that could answer his questions.
"Wh... what on earth happened here?"
As soon as he spoke, heads turned rapidly. The kids who had been groaning on the ground all looked at Ungeom.
Life returned to the eyes of the half-dead kids!
"Senior Instructor!"
"Senior Instructor!"
"Heavenly Lord!"
The last one sounded a bit off, but it was clear that the kids were welcoming him enthusiastically. They looked like they were about to burst into tears.
This was a rare sight for Ungeom, whose job was to keep the kids in line. No, it wasn't just rare—he had never seen the kids welcome him so passionately before.
"Sniff... Senior Instructor!"
"Why did you come so late? Why!"
"I missed you, Senior Instructor!"
What could he say?
The kids, who were usually so cautious around him, were now welcoming him so fervently that he felt a strange sense of pride. An inexplicable wave of emotion washed over him.
But Ungeom quickly shook his head.
'No, no.'
This wasn't the time to be moved.
Look at the state of the kids. They were covered in dirt and sweat, looking like they had just survived a war. Seeing their trembling limbs made Ungeom's stomach churn.
"What on earth happened here?"
The kids, who had looked like they were about to cling to Ungeom and burst into tears, suddenly hesitated when he asked the question. They glanced nervously behind them.
'Are they looking for cues?'
Ungeom's gaze followed theirs. There, sitting with his mouth wide open, was Jo Geol.
"Jo Geol?"
"...No. Behind him."
"Behind him?"
Ungeom's gaze shifted further back.
"That... that kid?"
Ungeom's eyes, which couldn't possibly widen any further, somehow managed to grow even larger.
'The new kid?'
His name was Chung Myung, right? But what was he doing now?
Ungeom tilted his head in confusion. Chung Myung was doing something strange. He had a wooden sword slung over his shoulder, with several large sacks hanging from it.
"What are those sacks?"
"They're filled with dirt."
"...Why dirt?"
He had asked, but he already had an idea.
Look.
Among the beggar-like kids, the skinniest one was bending and straightening his body while carrying sacks of dirt larger than his head, hanging from the wooden sword.
"Huuuuuuh."
Just watching made Ungeom's body tense up and sweat.
Chung Myung, who looked like he was about to collapse at any moment, managed to maintain his balance and straighten his body despite his trembling.
Drip. Drip.
Sweat dripped down his chin. His entire body was drenched, almost steaming.
'Is he going to die like that?'
Chung Myung's face was red, veins bulging, and his expression twisted like a demon from hell. Just watching him made Ungeom's body tense up involuntarily.
There was no better representation of the word "exhaustion" than what Chung Myung was showing right now. After straightening his body, Chung Myung groaned and bent down again.
'You're going to die like that, you fool!'
It wasn't that Ungeom was a lenient person. In fact, he was someone who advocated for strict training. Iron becomes stronger the more it's forged, and people become stronger the more they train. If his disciples were undergoing tough training, he would applaud them rather than stop them.
But even to Ungeom, the training Chung Myung was enduring now was beyond excessive.
'Wait, so is this why the kids look like beggars...?'
Did they do this training together?
"Se... Senior Instructor! Please save us."
"We're going to die like this."
Now that he looked closely, the kids' bodies were drenched in sweat. They looked like they had just put on clothes that were still wet from being washed. The thought that all that dampness was sweat made Ungeom shudder.
'So they weren't sleeping?'
Did they start training at dawn and end up like this?
"...Since when have you been doing this?"
"Since Mao hour (5 a.m.)."
So they had been doing this for over two hours?
"...Why?"
It was a natural question, but no one answered. They just desperately made faces that said,
'If we tell you, we'll die.'
'Could it be...?'
No, that couldn't be. That wouldn't make sense.
These kids were Hwasan's third-generation disciples. Even if Hwasan wasn't what it used to be, these were still kids who trained in martial arts. Many of the third-generation disciples had been training for over five years. They were far stronger than those who hadn't trained in martial arts.
But were they saying that these kids couldn't handle one small kid and ended up like this?
'Wait a minute.'
Jo Geol, who was known for his skill among the third-generation disciples, was now lying on the ground, barely breathing.
'What about Yun Jong?'
Ungeom's eyes quickly searched for Yun Jong, the head disciple.
"Huh..."
What was supposed to be Yun Jong was now sprawled on the ground.
'Why is he like that?'
At least Jo Geol still looked somewhat human, but Yun Jong was now barely recognizable as a person. With his face buried in the dirt and his butt slightly raised, Yun Jong's pitiful state made Ungeom's eyes well up with tears.
"Well..."
Ungeom opened his mouth but then closed it again.
'No, training is good, but...'
Now he understood what had happened. Looking at Chung Myung made it clear. The kids must have been doing strength training since dawn.
Although Hwasan was known for its speed and elegance in swordsmanship, basic strength training was also part of the regimen. After all, the foundation of all martial arts started with the body.
'But what kind of training could turn perfectly fine kids into this state in just two hours?'
Ungeom wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Glancing around, he saw the kids looking at him with hopeful eyes. They were filled with hope and trust that Ungeom would resolve this situation.
'Don't look at me like that in that state.'
It was seriously burdensome.
"Ahem."
Ungeom cleared his throat to calm himself and turned his gaze to Chung Myung. First, he needed to understand what was going on. Deciding how to react would come later.
"Bring that kid here."
It was the moment when Ungeom, the overseer of Baekmaegwan, firmly imprinted the name "Chung Myung" in his mind.
And he had no idea that this name would become the most important one in his life.