CHAPTER 34: CHAPTER 33: WEB UNRAVELS

The copy is gone, Jinmu realized with a cold certainty that settled in his stomach like swallowed ice. Not just defeated or overwhelmed—completely severed from my consciousness. That doesn’t happen unless...

Do Giseon’s laughter filled the chamber, rich and genuine and deeply satisfied. The First Blade stood among the bodies of his fallen followers, seemingly unbothered by their deaths, his attention focused entirely on Jinmu’s obvious distress.

"Oh, that’s perfect," Do Giseon said, his voice carrying the kind of joy that came from a plan reaching its intended conclusion. "The look on your face right now—priceless. You actually thought you could fool us indefinitely with that remarkable technique of yours."

He knows. Somehow, he knows about the copy. But how? The deception was perfect. The copy had all my memories, all my capabilities. There’s no way anyone should have been able to detect...

"I have to admit, I was genuinely impressed," Do Giseon continued, beginning to pace in a slow circle around the chamber. "A martial art that allows you to exist in multiple places simultaneously? Fascinating. Unprecedented, as far as I know. I’ve been trying to figure out how you managed to infiltrate the Pavilion while supposedly being elsewhere, and I never even considered the possibility that you were literally in two places at once."

He thinks it’s a martial technique, Jinmu realized with relief that was quickly overshadowed by growing concern. He doesn’t understand the true nature of the copying ability. But if he knows about the tournament copy, then...

"The tournament," Jinmu said, his voice carefully controlled despite the worry gnawing at his thoughts. "What happened to my... other self?"

Do Giseon’s smile widened, revealing teeth that gleamed in the chamber’s dim light. "Your duplicate? Oh, it’s perfectly safe. Restrained, of course, but unharmed. Along with the lovely Eun Haria, who I must say played her part beautifully. Such dedication to the deception, even when it became clear that the game was up."

Haria. They have Haria. And if they captured the copy instead of killing it, that means they want something. Leverage. Information. Or...

"You see," Do Giseon continued, his tone becoming almost conversational, "we’ve known about your little masquerade for quite some time. Not the specifics, mind you—the technique you use is genuinely beyond my understanding. But we knew that something wasn’t quite right about ’Muyeon’ in the tournament."

How? Jinmu thought desperately. The copy was perfect. It had all my memories, all my skills, all my behavioral patterns. What could have given it away?

"It was the breathing," Do Giseon said, as if reading his thoughts. "Subtle, almost undetectable unless you knew what to look for. But Eun Haria breathes in a very specific pattern when she’s concentrating—a rhythm she learned during her training at the Yeonhwa Lotus Palace. Your duplicate matched that rhythm perfectly during the tournament matches, which meant it was responding to her ki signature in real time."

The mental connection, Jinmu realized with growing horror. The copy was maintaining unconscious synchronization with Haria because we’ve been working together so closely. Something so subtle that even I didn’t notice it, but visible to someone who was specifically watching for inconsistencies.

"But that only told us something was wrong," Do Giseon continued. "It didn’t tell us what. The real breakthrough came when we realized that your ’ability to appear in multiple places’ had to be more than simple speed or illusion. The timing was too perfect, the coordination too flawless. You weren’t moving between locations—you were genuinely present in multiple locations."

They figured it out through pure deduction. No understanding of the mechanism, but a clear grasp of the result. That’s... actually impressive. And terrifying.

"Which led us to a fascinating question," Do Giseon said, his eyes gleaming with intellectual curiosity. "If you could be in two places at once, how many places could you actually be? Was there a limit? Could you create an army of yourself if necessary?"

He’s fishing for information. Trying to understand the full scope of what I’m capable of. But he’s also revealing something important—they didn’t just capture the copy. They’re using it as bait.

"The elders of the Five Great Mountain Sects were quite intrigued by this possibility," Do Giseon continued, confirming Jinmu’s worst fears. "Elder Gwak Cheonmyeong of the Hwagyeong Sword Sect, Elder Baek Muyeol of the Baekrin White Tiger Hall, Elder Noe Yeongtae of the Azure Thunder Hall, Elder Yeon Seolhwa of my own Mugang Martial Pavilion, and of course Elder So Wolhyang of the Yeonhwa Lotus Palace. All of them were very interested in understanding how such a technique might be... acquired."

All five elders. The highest-ranking martial artists below the sect leaders themselves. If they’re all working with Do Giseon, then this conspiracy isn’t just about the Mugang Martial Pavilion. It’s about the entire orthodox structure.

"Elder So Wolhyang was particularly enthusiastic," Do Giseon added with obvious pleasure. "You see, she’s been concerned for some time about the direction her sect has been taking under Palace Master Danhye Yeoryeong’s leadership. Too soft, too willing to compromise with unorthodox elements. She was quite eager to help us demonstrate the consequences of such weakness."

Betrayal within betrayal. Yeoryeong trusted her people, and one of her own elders sold her out. No wonder they were able to predict our movements so accurately.

"But I’m getting ahead of myself," Do Giseon said, returning his attention to Jinmu. "The important thing is that we now have both your duplicate and Miss Eun Haria in custody. They’re perfectly safe, as long as you’re willing to be reasonable."

Hostages. Of course. The oldest strategy in the book, but effective when the stakes are high enough. And they are high enough. If they hurt Haria...

"What do you want?" Jinmu asked, his voice carefully neutral despite the anger building in his chest.

"What I’ve always wanted," Do Giseon replied. "Progress. Evolution. The martial world has been stagnant for too long, held back by outdated traditions and weak leadership. The Five Great Mountain Sects cling to their ancient ways while the world changes around them. It’s time for new blood, new ideas, new power."

The same speech every revolutionary gives. The old ways are corrupt, the new ways are better, and conveniently he’s the one who gets to decide what the new ways should be. I’ve heard variations of this from every ambitious sociopath I’ve ever encountered.

"And you believe that gives you the right to murder innocent people?" Jinmu asked. "To poison your own master? To conspire with unorthodox sects against the very organization that made you what you are?"

Do Giseon’s expression hardened slightly. "Innocent people? Hyeon Ryu has been holding this pavilion back for decades with his obsession with neutrality. The other sect leaders are so concerned with maintaining their own power that they’ve forgotten their responsibility to the martial world as a whole. And as for innocence..." He gestured toward the bodies scattered around the chamber. "How many people have you killed today? How many lives have you ended in pursuit of your own goals?"

He’s not wrong about the killing, Jinmu thought grimly. But there’s a difference between killing in defense of innocent people and killing to seize power for yourself. Though I suppose he would argue that his goals justify his methods, just like I argue that mine do.

"The difference," Jinmu said aloud, "is that I’m not trying to rule anyone. I’m trying to stop you from destroying everything."

"Destroying?" Do Giseon laughed again. "I’m not destroying anything. I’m building something better. A unified martial world, freed from the artificial divisions between orthodox and unorthodox, led by people who understand that strength is the only currency that truly matters."

And there it is. The core of his philosophy. Might makes right, dressed up in the language of progress and unity. He genuinely believes that his vision is better than what exists now, and that belief justifies any amount of suffering he causes in pursuit of it.

"You have incredible power," Do Giseon continued, his tone becoming more persuasive. "That technique of yours—the ability to exist in multiple places simultaneously—could reshape the entire balance of the martial world. Imagine what we could accomplish working together. Imagine the changes we could make, the improvements we could implement."

He’s trying to recruit me. Offering partnership instead of demanding submission. That suggests he’s not entirely confident in his ability to force compliance, even with Haria as a hostage.

"Join us," Do Giseon said, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of welcome. "Help us build something better than this endless cycle of conflict and stagnation. Your power, our vision, working together to create a future that serves everyone instead of just the privileged few."

The offer sounds reasonable when he phrases it like that. Partnership instead of conquest. Unity instead of division. Progress instead of stagnation. If I didn’t know what his ’better future’ actually involved, I might even be tempted.

"And if I refuse?" Jinmu asked.

Do Giseon’s expression remained pleasant, but something cold flickered behind his eyes. "Then Miss Eun Haria and your duplicate will suffer the consequences of your stubbornness. Not immediately, of course. We’re not unreasonable. But their continued well-being will depend entirely on your willingness to cooperate."

Threat delivered with a smile. The classic combination of carrot and stick. Accept the partnership and everyone stays safe. Refuse, and people I care about get hurt. Simple, effective, and completely predictable.

"You’re asking me to betray everything I believe in," Jinmu said quietly. "To help you destroy the very people I’ve been trying to protect."

"I’m asking you to open your eyes," Do Giseon replied. "To see beyond the narrow loyalties that have been imposed on you by an outdated system. The Five Great Mountain Sects aren’t worth protecting. They’re obstacles to progress, barriers to the kind of unity that could bring peace to the entire martial world."

He really believes it. That’s what makes him dangerous. He’s not just a power-hungry sociopath—he’s a true believer who thinks his vision justifies any amount of suffering. Those are the most dangerous enemies of all, because they can’t be reasoned with or bought off or scared away. They have to be stopped.

"I need time to think," Jinmu said, though his mind was already made up.

"Of course," Do Giseon said graciously. "This is a significant decision. But don’t take too long. The situation at the tournament is... fluid. And accidents can happen so easily when people are under stress."

Another threat, more subtle this time. He’s giving me an ultimatum without stating it directly. Decide quickly, or people start dying. Well, two can play at that game.

"I understand," Jinmu said, his voice carrying none of the turmoil he felt inside. "Just one question before I give you my answer."

"Yes?"

"How confident are you that your plan is actually working?"

Do Giseon’s smile faltered slightly. "What do you mean?"

He doesn’t know about the rescue at the carved stone pavilion. Doesn’t know that Palace Master Yeoryeong and her people are free and safe. Doesn’t know that his precious hostages are actually under my protection. That ignorance is about to become very expensive.

"I mean," Jinmu said, his own smile beginning to form behind his mask, "you’ve been assuming that I only had two copies of myself. You’ve been assuming that capturing one of them would give you leverage over the other. You’ve been assuming that your conspiracy was secret and your allies were secure."

Time to show him exactly how many assumptions he’s made. And how wrong they all were.

"What are you talking about?" Do Giseon demanded, his confidence beginning to crack.

"I’m talking about the fact that your entire plan was built on incomplete information," Jinmu replied. "You captured one copy, but you never asked yourself why I would limit myself to just two when I could create as many as needed."

Now comes the interesting part. Do I tell him about the twenty copies I’m about to create? Do I reveal the full scope of what I’m capable of? Or do I let him discover it the hard way?

Time to show him what real power looks like.

The moment of decision crystallized like ice forming on still water. Jinmu looked at Do Giseon—this man who had poisoned his own master, conspired with unorthodox sects, and threatened innocent people—and felt something settle into place deep in his consciousness. Not anger, though anger was there. Not hatred, though hatred would have been justified. Just clarity. Pure, simple clarity about what needed to be done.

Twenty copies this time, he decided, feeling the familiar pulse of the Heavenly Copy-Paste Technique responding to his will. Each one at Peak Master level instead of the reduced strength I’ve been accepting. I’m a Grandmaster now. The power distribution should be more efficient.

"You know what your problem is, Do Giseon?" Jinmu said, his voice carrying a conversational tone that somehow made the words more threatening than any shout could have been. "You think small. You see one technique, one capability, and you assume that’s all there is. You never ask yourself what else might be possible."

Do Giseon’s hand moved toward his sword, some instinct warning him that the dynamic of their conversation was shifting in ways he didn’t understand. "What are you—"

"HEAVENLY COPY-PASTE TECHNIQUE," Jinmu said, cutting off the First Blade’s question. "PASTE."

The process was different this time. Easier, more controlled, as if his breakthrough to Grandmaster level had fundamentally improved his understanding of how the copying ability worked. Instead of the straining effort that creating twenty copies had required before, the technique flowed like water finding its natural course.

My consciousness isn’t being divided, he realized as twenty points of light began to coalesce around the chamber. It’s being amplified. Each copy is a complete entity, not a fragment of the original. That’s the difference between Master-level copying and Grandmaster-level copying.

The light took shape with breathtaking speed, condensing into twenty perfect duplicates of Jinmu himself. But these weren’t the reduced-strength copies he had created before. Each one radiated the presence of a Peak Master, their combined ki signature filling the Supreme Chamber with pressure that made the ancient stone walls creak audibly.

Do Giseon staggered backward, his face pale with shock and growing fear. "That’s impossible. No martial technique can—"

"No martial technique that you understand," one of the copies corrected, its voice carrying the same authority as the original. "But then, your understanding has proven to be quite limited."

The look on his face is almost worth everything we’ve been through, Jinmu thought with grim satisfaction. He spent so much time thinking he was the smartest person in the room, manipulating everyone else like pieces on a board. Now he’s discovering what it feels like to be outplayed.

"Twenty Peak Master level duplicates," another copy said, beginning to move in a slow circle around Do Giseon. "Each one capable of independent action. Each one possessing the full range of techniques we’ve acquired. Each one dedicated to a single purpose."

"Which is?" Do Giseon asked, though his voice suggested he already knew the answer.

"Fixing the mess you’ve made," the original Jinmu replied. "Starting with rescuing the people you’re holding hostage."

But first, I need to test something. The copies created before my breakthrough behaved differently when they were destroyed. If these new copies are different...

He focused on one of the twenty duplicates and gave it a mental command to dissolve itself. The copy nodded understanding and allowed its form to disperse—not violently, not with the cracking sound of wooden swords breaking, but like shadow melting into deeper shadow.

Perfect. They vanish completely when dismissed or destroyed. No bodies to explain, no evidence to leave behind. The tactical applications are enormous.

"Ten of you will secure the tournament arena," Jinmu instructed the copies. "Rescue my captured duplicate and Eun Haria. Neutralize the five elders who are working with Do Giseon. Ensure the safety of all legitimate tournament participants and spectators."

The designated copies nodded and began moving toward the chamber’s exit, their forms already beginning to blur as stealth techniques took effect.

"The other ten will take control of the Mugang Martial Pavilion," Jinmu continued. "Arrest or eliminate any personnel still loyal to Do Giseon’s conspiracy. Secure all critical facilities. Ensure that the surviving loyal members of the Twelve Blades receive appropriate medical treatment."

Complete tactical dominance. That’s what twenty Peak Master level operatives can achieve when they’re perfectly coordinated and completely committed to their objectives. Do Giseon spent months building his conspiracy, and I’m about to dismantle it in a matter of hours.

"You can’t be serious," Do Giseon said, his voice cracking slightly as he watched the copies disperse with military precision. "This is madness. No one person should have this kind of power."

"You’re absolutely right," Jinmu agreed. "No one person should have this kind of power. Which is why I’m using it to prevent you from accumulating the kind of power you’ve been seeking."

The irony is perfect. He’s complaining about my power while standing in a chamber full of the bodies of people he killed or ordered killed in pursuit of his own power. But then, hypocrites rarely recognize their own hypocrisy.

Do Giseon drew his sword, the blade reflecting the chamber’s dim light as he settled into a combat stance. "You think you’ve won. You think your parlor tricks and your impossible techniques make you invincible. But you’re still just one person. And I am Do Giseon, First Blade of the Mugang Martial Pavilion."

He’s going to fight. Of course he is. Megalomaniacs always fight when cornered, even when the odds are impossible. They can’t accept that they’ve lost until someone forces that acceptance on them.

"Were," Jinmu corrected gently. "You were the First Blade. Past tense. Your authority ended the moment you poisoned Pavilion Master Hyeon Ryu. Everything you’ve done since then has been treason."

"Treason?" Do Giseon laughed, but there was hysteria in the sound now. "Treason against what? A corrupt system that rewards weakness and punishes strength? A hierarchy that keeps the worthy in subordinate positions while elevating the undeserving? I was trying to save the martial world from its own stupidity!"

And there’s the justification that every tyrant uses. ’I was trying to save you from yourselves.’ Always phrased as noble sacrifice, never as the selfish power grab it actually is.

"You were trying to put yourself in charge," Jinmu said flatly. "Everything else is just rationalization."

Do Giseon’s ki flared, filling the chamber with the pressure of a Peak Master-level martial artist at the peak of his abilities. His sword technique, when it came, was everything Jinmu had expected from the First Blade of a Great Mountain Sect—precise, powerful, deadly.

But it wasn’t enough.

The gap between Peak Master and Grandmaster isn’t just about power, Jinmu realized as he deflected Do Giseon’s attack with casual ease. It’s about understanding. He’s fighting with techniques, but I’m fighting with concepts. He’s trying to cut my body, but I’m attacking the idea that his attacks have meaning.

DISSOLUTION OF THE MORTAL COIL. The technique bypassed Do Giseon’s guard entirely, striking at vulnerabilities in his defense that existed on conceptual rather than physical levels. The First Blade staggered, blood flowing from wounds that appeared without any visible cause.

"Impossible," Do Giseon gasped, looking down at injuries that his eyes told him shouldn’t exist. "I saw your strike. I blocked it. How did you—"

"You blocked the attack you could perceive," Jinmu explained patiently. "But you can’t block attacks that exist outside your understanding of reality."

This is what Grandmaster-level combat means. Not just superior technique or greater power, but the ability to impose your understanding of how the world works onto the battlefield itself. I’m not just fighting Do Giseon—I’m rewriting the rules that govern our conflict.

Do Giseon attacked again, desperation driving him to pour everything he had into a series of devastating strikes that should have overwhelmed any defense. But Jinmu was no longer where the attacks expected him to be. TRANSCENDENT VOID STEP carried him through spaces that existed between the physical dimensions Do Giseon’s techniques could access.

He’s skilled. Probably the most skilled Peak Master-level fighter I’ve ever faced. Under different circumstances, this might have been an interesting challenge. But circumstances are what they are, and I have other priorities.

PHANTOM EMPEROR’S JUDGMENT. The technique struck at both body and spirit simultaneously, disrupting not just Do Giseon’s physical form but his ability to maintain conscious control over his martial techniques. The First Blade collapsed to his knees, his sword clattering across the chamber floor as his hands lost the strength to hold it.

"This... this isn’t over," Do Giseon wheezed, blood staining his lips as he struggled to remain conscious. "The plan... the alliance... it’s bigger than just me. You can’t stop all of it."

He’s probably right about that. Conspiracies this large don’t die just because you remove one chess piece.