"This is interesting, truly interesting."
Bang was not an old-fashioned, stubborn man. On the contrary, in many cases, he was more open-minded than the younger generation.
"Times are advancing, and as martial artists, we must also adapt, Master."
Seeing that Bang did not reprimand him, Yamcha immediately seized the opportunity and switched to addressing Bang as "Master."
Bang fully agreed with Yamcha's statement. As times progressed, martial artists naturally needed to keep up.
"Martial artist, huh? It's been a long time since I've heard someone call themselves that."
Bang spoke with a touch of nostalgia, a fleeting trace of reminiscence flashing through his eyes. Then, in his usual calm manner, he said, "Stand beside me and witness everything that happens today. Let's see how many people can make it up here before nightfall."
After instructing Yamcha to stand by his side, Bang said no more. He neither explained anything to Yamcha nor engaged in conversation. He simply stood there in silence, gazing into the distance, watching the staircase leading up to the dojo.
Seeing that Bang had no intention of speaking, Yamcha pondered for a moment and then remained silent as well, standing like a proud pine tree, unwavering.
This was a test.
Standing itself was a form of training, one of the fundamental skills in martial arts.
Boring, monotonous, dull—but it tempered one's will.
The two of them stood at the entrance of the dojo. When people came to seek discipleship, they exchanged a few words, directed them inside to rest, and then continued waiting. This went on until sunset, when the moon was high in the sky.
Including Yamcha, Bang accepted a total of 129 people into his dojo.
Despite the overwhelming crowd at the foot of the mountain in the beginning, only a handful truly made it to the dojo before nightfall.
That endless staircase alone was enough to deter most spectators. In the end, only a select few reached the top.
Most people in the world are like this—they shout grand slogans before taking action, but when the time comes to actually do something, they disappear.
It reminded Yamcha of a saying: "Before a fight, everyone talks tough. But when it actually starts, not a single damn one dares to charge in!"
Interestingly, aside from Yamcha, only the second arrival—a young man who called himself Garou—received Bang's aura baptism. None of the others, including the third to arrive, were granted this honor.
Apart from Garou, another person caught Yamcha's attention—the second-to-last arrival.
A man with a double chin that looked like an egg, named Sourface.
In Yamcha's memory, this guy appeared during the Martial Arts Tournament arc, claiming to be Bang's second disciple and even creating his own style, "Sourface Fist." However, his actual strength was never clearly demonstrated.
Well, second-to-last is still second.
After waiting for a long time without seeing another person appear on the staircase, Bang let out a light sigh. "Looks like this is all we have."
There was a hint of regret in his voice.
The path from the foot of the mountain to the dojo was called the Path of Training. Those tens of thousands of steps were enough to make those merely curious about martial arts realize the difficulty and give up halfway. Of course, exceptions like Yamcha, who "cheated" by arriving in a helicopter, existed.
It was understandable. In an era of peace and technological advancement, even if you were a martial arts grandmaster and worshipped by thousands, how many people would be willing to abandon the conveniences of modern life to endure the hardships of martial training?
After all, martial arts training wasn't like taking a pill and instantly gaining superpowers. The most fundamental requirement for martial arts was hardship.
If you can't endure physical hardship, why practice martial arts at all? Isn't dancing a better choice?
Perhaps only when Demon-level and Dragon-level monsters roam freely will people realize the importance of strength—when they can't even protect themselves. But by then, it will be too late.
Bang's regret wasn't about not recruiting as many disciples as he had hoped. Rather, he lamented that fewer and fewer people genuinely loved martial arts. Even he had only taken in just over a hundred.
If Bang simply wanted more disciples, all he had to do was move his dojo to the foot of the mountain. He'd be flooded with students. But at least 80% of them would quit after a few days.
"What's your name?"
This was the first time Bang had actively spoken to Yamcha after calling him to stand beside him.
"Yamcha," he replied respectfully.
Bang nodded, then turned and walked into the dojo. "Alright, Yamcha. From today onward, you are my first disciple."
Hearing this, Yamcha let out a small sigh of relief. He knew he had passed Bang's test.
The title of "first disciple" was not just a simple label.
It meant being the senior disciple.
It also meant being the future successor of the dojo.
This signified that, when the time was right, Bang would impart everything he knew to Yamcha. In reality, this was how most dojos passed down their teachings. This was the legacy of martial artists.
The first test was climbing the mountain. Only the first to reach the dojo could proceed to the next trial. Bang had actually been hoping someone would take an alternate path—proving they weren't rigid in thinking and could adapt.
There were no shortcuts in training, but there were in martial arts mastery.
Someone like that would be beneficial for the dojo and for the Flowing Water Rock Smashing Fist's legacy.
Yamcha's method of arriving by helicopter was something Bang had never anticipated, leaving him unsure how to evaluate it.
The second test was standing. Don't underestimate such a simple action—what seems easiest is often the most challenging. They stood in the same position until nightfall, something most people couldn't do.
Bang had planned everything carefully. Those who climbed up step by step showed perseverance. Those who could stand firm demonstrated great willpower. If someone took the shortcut and arrived first, it would prove they were adaptable and quick-witted. If they could also endure the standing test, it meant they had great potential.
However, if someone climbed up but couldn't stand firm, it showed their limits. And if someone took a shortcut but couldn't endure standing, they were nothing more than opportunists—unfit to be the chief disciple.
If someone took the shortcut but tried to pretend they had climbed, it would reveal their dishonesty, and Bang would immediately expel them.
Yes, Bang wasn't just looking for disciples—he was searching for a worthy successor.
Yamcha's case went beyond just great potential. He had strong personal abilities and knew how to use tools effectively. For Bang, this was an unexpected delight.
Of course, the tests weren't over yet. Until the final moment, the position of chief disciple was not guaranteed. The real question was—could Yamcha hold onto this title?
(End of Chapter)