"Will they be okay without me?" I whispered to myself.
It had already been three days since I shut myself in this room. My disciples, my brothers-in-arms, the people who looked up to me—they were all out there waiting, probably hoping I'd break through soon. I told them not to disturb me. I told them this was something I had to do alone.
But what if I never came back?
I shook my head. No, I couldn't afford doubt. Not now.
I sat in the middle of the quiet chamber, legs crossed, body still. The only light came from a few dim lanterns on the wall, casting long shadows across the floor. The smell of old books, incense, and my own blood filled the room. Blood that had been spilled in countless battles.
I've been through so much. Fought for years. Trained until my bones felt like they'd break. I became the Grandmaster of the Murim Alliance because of it. Some say I'm the strongest alive. That I'm already beyond the normal limits of power.
But still… I couldn't break through.
I closed my eyes and focused on the energy inside me—my qi. It swirled quietly, waiting for my command. I had passed the Ultimate Realm long ago. The energy of the world itself bent to my will. But the next step—the Life and Death Realm—was still out of reach.
Why?
I had trained every day of my life. My body was strong. My foundation was solid. I had no weaknesses… or so I thought.
I began to check everything again. One by one, I went through all my techniques in my mind.
The Celestial Dragon Breathing Method. It made my qi pure and strong.
The Heavenly Thunder Palm. A single strike could destroy a mountain.
The Phantom Mirage Steps. It let me move like a ghost, fast and untouchable.
The Void Severing Sword Technique. My sword could cut through space itself.
Each one flowed through me perfectly. But something was still missing. Something important.
I frowned.
Then my eyes drifted to a small pile of books in the corner. They were old, dusty, and wrapped in black cloth. I hadn't touched them in years.
They were forbidden texts. Dark arts.
One of them stood out. Its cover was black and cracked, with strange red markings. It was the Demonic Scriptures, written by the Demon Lord of the Abyss before he was killed.
I had taken it long ago, after we defeated the Demonic Cult. I told myself it was for research—to understand the enemy.
But I had read it. In secret.
And what I found inside… made sense in a strange way.
In the Orthodox path, we're taught to keep things separate. Good and evil. Light and darkness. Yin and yang.
But what if… that was wrong?
What if they weren't meant to be kept apart?
What if true power came from bringing them together?
The thought hit me hard. Like lightning in a storm.
Maybe that was it. Maybe the key to ascension wasn't choosing one side. Maybe it was balance.
I took a deep breath and sat straight again.
I gathered my righteous qi—the bright, clean energy I had trained with for decades. It filled me with warmth and strength.
Then I did something I swore I'd never do.
I reached for the dark energy. The forbidden one. The demonic qi.
It crawled into my body like ice. Cold. Sharp. Angry.
The two energies clashed inside me—like fire and water. My body shook. My breath stopped. It was chaos.
But then…
They started to mix.
Not fighting. Not rejecting each other. Just… becoming one.
I felt it.
The truth.
Creation and destruction. Light and darkness. All energy was the same. It was just… energy.
And in that moment, I understood everything.
This was the answer!
I laughed. I couldn't help it.
But the power was too much. My body wasn't ready. My veins tore open. Blood poured out. Pain hit me harder than any blade ever had.
I was dying.
My heart slowed. My breath faded.
But I smiled.
Because even though I failed, I finally saw the truth.
Or so I thought.
Everything went black.
A cacophony of unfamiliar voices rang in my ears, a mixture of muffled shouts and the clinking of metal. A putrid stench assaulted my nostrils—something rotten, something filthy, something entirely human.
I gasped, my entire body aching as if I had been beaten within an inch of my life.
I opened my eyes.
And what I saw was not my chamber, not the Murim Alliance, not even the familiar air of my world.
Instead, I found myself lying in an alleyway, surrounded by dirt and refuse, with a body that felt frail, malnourished, and… foreign.
My breath hitched. My hands trembled as I brought them before my face, my once strong and calloused fingers now thin, weak, and covered in grime.
Then, like a dam bursting, an avalanche of memories flooded my mind.
I was no longer Baek Jo-Pil, the revered head of the Murim Alliance.
I was Theodore.
An orphan.
A beggar.
A boy struggling to survive in the slums of a world I did not recognize.
For a long, terrible moment, I simply lay there, the weight of this incomprehensible reality crashing down upon me.
And then, with an exhale that tasted of both despair and reluctant acceptance, I muttered the only words that came to mind:
"…What the hell just happened?"
-------
Cold.
It touched my skin and stayed. It was not a small cold. It went deep into my bones. It was like something alive, wrapping around me and not letting go.
The wind blew hard through the small alley. It felt angry. The walls were wet and dirty. They did not help me. They looked like sharp, broken teeth. A street light above me was weak. It made the shadows move.
I shook.
Breathing was hard. Each breath hurt, like pulling chains through my throat.
My fingers moved a little.
Weak.
I tried to move them more. It was slow and painful. My hands were thin. My skin was tight. My bones showed.
I made a fist. It hurt.
I almost laughed.
How did I become like this?
Before, I was strong. My name made people afraid. I was Baek Jo-Pil, the strongest in the Murim Alliance. People followed me. I fought the heavens.
Now…
Now I was a beggar. Cold. Hungry. Weak.
It felt like a bad joke.
My old memories came back. Baek Jo-Pil still lived in my mind. But my body was not his. My body was now someone else's.
This was not Baek Jo-Pil's body.
This body was Theodore's.
And now, I was him.
A loud sound pulled me back.
Shouting.
I looked up.
I saw a few boys in the alley. They were scared. Three bad men stood in front of them. One of the men held a small boy by the shirt. The boy kicked, trying to break free.
I knew the boys.
Kevin and Edmund.
They were kind to Theodore. When others hit him or gave him bad names, these two boys gave him bread. They gave him water.
They were kind.
I took a breath.
They will not be hurt.
The big man pulled Kevin higher. "You kids think you can run and not pay?"
His breath smelled like alcohol.
Kevin tried to fight, but he was too small. His face turned red.
Next to him, Edmund shook with fear. "Let him go!"
The man laughed. "Or what?"
He pulled his hand back to punch.
I moved.
Fast.
I picked up a small stick on the ground.
It was light. But in my hand, it became a weapon.
I hit the big man on the leg. Hard.
He fell down, screaming.
Before he could move, I turned and hit the second man in the ribs.
He cried out and stepped back, holding his side.
The last man looked at me. I saw fear in his eyes.
I hit his stomach. He fell, coughing.
Silence.
The bad men were scared now.
They ran away.
I breathed out.
Then, pain hit me.
Sharp and strong.
My chest hurt. I could not see well.
The stick fell from my hand.
I coughed.
Blood came out of my mouth.
I almost fell.
Then a hand held me.
"Theodore!"
It was Kevin.
He looked very scared. Edmund was scared too.
Strange.
Before, people feared me. They hated me. They wanted to kill me.
But these boys… they cared.
I moved away. I did not want them to worry.
I closed my eyes.
I used to meditate a lot. This time was different.
My mind felt broken. Who am I?
Baek Jo-Pil?
Theodore?
No.
I am both. And I am new.
Baek Jo-Pil is dead.
The weak Theodore is gone too.
I am me.
I opened my eyes.
Nothing in the alley changed.
But everything felt different.
I made a fist. I had made a choice.
I turned to the boys.
"Theodore?" Kevin asked.
I nodded.
"Let's go."
I didn't know what this world would give me.
But I knew one thing—
I would win.