Chapter 37: To be honest, you have to understand this

Qing, as always, was clueless as shit. But this time, it was even worse than usual.

Waterway? Nope, no clue.

Yangtze River? Nope.

Dongting Lake? Nope.

Region?...something-something?[^ Qing doesn't remember the word 'Buchaldowisa '. Regional Inspector. (I wouldn't either ha) ] Damn, these government titles are a mouthful.

The Demonic Cannibal? I don't remember anyone weaker than me.

She was just lured in by the promise of a free dinner, and now shes everyone's hero?

"Well, I guess that Demonic Cannibal dude was kinda strong, so maybe it's not so bad that I offed him."

All in all, it was a win-win. The Yangtze Waterway was rolling in cash, and they sure knew how to treat their benefactors. They even threw a special shindig just for Qing. 

Meanwhile, Chief Bok Haeun didn't even have time to mourn his son. He had to deal with the government breathing down his neck. Thankfully, that idiot Regional Inspector Bu got taken out, giving him the perfect excuse to cut ties. After all, a convenient slip-up from higher-ups is essential for leveraging connections.

He just needed to pin everything on that psycho, Eon Yeon-yeong, and find himself a new backer. So, Bok Haeun channeled his grief in a different direction: a burning hatred for the Traditionalist faction.

Traditionalists. The name itself was absurd. "Since we’ve always been bandits, we should continue being bandits?" What a load of horseshit.

He'd tolerated them because they were old pals and descendants of the previous Waterway generation. He'd believed they could change once they got a taste of the good life and a respectable job. But his faith was shattered. 

Now, the Chief's resolve was hardened. "I was far too soft in my pursuit of progress." he realized. "It has to start with saying goodbye to the old geezers!" Coincidentally, this was the same idea that had shaped human history in some distant future or alternate past.

This was the power of a group that had shared the same culture for a long time.  

It was called national spirit!

With unwavering determination and a burning sense of purpose, he was ready to break with tradition. The Traditional Faction bastards were rounded up and executed. Qing, the Waterway's savior, volunteered for the job.

With a cheerful, easygoing smile, she lopped off heads one after another. 

That's when people started to give her the stink eye. Qing noticed and thought, "These guys are seriously messed up." They were a bunch of backstabbers. They promised to take her somewhere safe but locked her in a room with a lunatic. When she exposed Eon Yeon-yeong's true identity, they tried to sell her out. And now they were practically kicking her out the door, after all that "eternal benefactor" crap. 

At least she liked the Dragon King Medallion they gave her as a parting gift. The Dragon King Medallion was a symbol of Waterway Stronghold’s highest respect.

And for river bandits, there was only one way to show maximum respect.

A lifetime exemption from toll fees.

Any ship carrying the Dragon King Medallion was free to pass—no exceptions.

It might not seem like a big deal for Qing herself, but it was.  

Every ship on the Yangtze dreamed of having that tablet.  

The owner wouldn't just get a free ride; they'd be treated like a VIP.  

It was basically a free pass to do whatever you wanted on the Yangtze.

Qing, as always, didn't overthink it. Overthinking wasn't her style. That's why she was second to none when it came to getting things done. She hitched a ride on a boat and headed down the river.

All this time, Qing had been wrestling with a thought. Back then, when she'd used the sixth move of the Budda Palm, the Wheel of Wish-Granting Bodhisattva... Something had felt different. Like, something was kinda...off. 

She couldn't put her finger on it. It was like having a craving but not knowing what you wanted to eat, but way more intense. She'd used the Budda Palm plenty of times before, but this time, it felt completely different. Her internal energy, which had always flowed like a machine, suddenly moved like it was proclaiming the end of the human world. Like it had its own will. Like it was… something else.

Ah, fuck it.

Still—

Still, she had a strong feeling that if she just thought about it a little harder, she'd figure it out. Qing was going crazy, but this was actually a sign of an impending breakthrough. 

The way she used techniques was like copying and pasting. She'd unconsciously pull out moves that had been forcibly imprinted on her mind and body. But that wasn't unusual. Even martial artists from prestigious families learned that way. They'd drill a technique thousands of times until it was ingrained, then refine it through sparring and real combat. That's how they built their own unique styles. 

The only difference with Qing was that she crammed ten years' worth of training into one go. And now, as she stood on the verge of that hazy 'knowing,' of truly internalizing martial arts, it began. 

Qing’s way of speaking, according to Ximen Surin,

Was "wilder than a rampaging stallion."

Qing had never seen a wild stallion, so the comparison didn't really land.

Of course, the Grand Matriarch Ximen Surin, Sect leader of the Women's Paradise in the Mountains had pretty high standards.

But even she eventually came to accept it. The lonely old woman had a soft spot for her shameless, clingy disciple. 

But the biggest reason was the old woman's wisdom. She realized that Qing wasn't incapable of speaking like a lady; she simply chose not to.

Qing wasn't consciously aware of it, but in this world, with a new body, a new name, even a new reality, her strange way of speaking was a subconscious defense mechanism, protecting her remaining sense of self. 

This made certain times especially difficult for Qing. Like now, during her monthly period.

She couldn't bear the thought of being stuck on the boat, so she disembarked as soon as they docked. She rushed to a fabric store, where the owner gave her a pitying look. A look of shared experience that Qing didn't want to share. She bought a whole bunch of cotton cloth. 

"Ugh..." Her joints ached, her muscles throbbed, and she felt exhausted and restless at the same time. Even her beloved food lost its appeal.

Some of her fellow disciples in the Divine Maiden Sect would be bedridden with pain during their periods. Qing didn't experience intense pain, but she felt a constant, dull ache throughout the day.

Her stomach hurt. Her chest hurt even more, like it was bruised. And this whole experience just felt disgusting.

"Goddammit! I just wanna kill something! Where's a demon when you need one?"

So, Qing was on edge. Any unlucky bastard who crossed her path during this time, even if they didn't provoke her, would end up in pieces. She couldn't stand being cooped up in her room, but going outside just made her irritable. It was practically a mental illness. 

What to do? Watching bad guys get their just desserts was the best, but that wasn't really an option in a city. She'd just have to drown her sorrows in booze and try to numb the pain. 

"I need to reach Transcendent-Realm ASAP!" she thought.

Ximen Surin had told her—

"Once you reach the peak and undergo the Body Transformation, ‘that time of the month’ becomes a non-issue."

"But what the fuck am I supposed to do until then?" Qing screamed internally, swallowing her misery with another gulp of alcohol. The cheap, bitter liquor burned its way down her throat, momentarily distracting her from the other pain. 

So there she was, a ticking time bomb in the corner of a tavern.

Which is why, on this particular day.

It really wasn’t Taepyeong Sword Sect’s fault.

The Taepyeong Swordsmen were just doing their usual rounds, collecting protection money. The only difference was that this was after Jo Ho-bang had expanded his business and forcibly recruited new clients

"We already paid this month's protection fee to the, uh, associates from Jo Ho-bang's group," the tavern owner explained. 

"Oh yeah?" The warriors from Taepyeong sword sect paused. "And what's that got to do with us?" 

The owner was dumbfounded. "What do you mean?" 

"Your private little deals have nothing to do with the Taepyeong Sword Sect. We have our own contracts, you know." 

"So you're saying...you want us to pay protection money again?" 

"Look here, Mr. Geum. "The deal you made with them has nothing to do with us. We have our own contract with you, do we not? Taepyeong Sword Sect protects you, so of course, you must pay what you owe, wouldn't you agree?" 

Mr. Geum's face crumpled. "But what about the protection money we already paid to Jo Ho-bang?" 

The swordsman looked at him, puzzled. "You paid them, so why are you asking me?" 

Mr. Geum was fuming. What was the point of paying protection money all this time if not to keep thugs like Jo Ho-bang in line? But he forced a groveling smile and pleaded. The one with the sword was king, and Mr. Geum was unarmed.

Besides, this wasn't even considered a crime. It was everyday life in Murim. Some businesses even paid protection money to four different factions! It was Mr. Geum's fault for setting up shop in the ambiguous border zone between two factions. All his fault. 

Qing felt a pang of genuine sympathy. Not because she empathized with the plight of small business owners, both in the modern world and in Murim.

No, It was because those Taepyeong Swordsmen were such incompetent assholes.

The Taepyeong Swords Sect claimed to be a righteous sect, and they weren't actually that bad. The worst of them had a karma score of -56, and the best was around -3. For a bunch of sword-wielding thugs, they were practically saints. They were certainly more upstanding than the men who'd stayed behind on the ship during the Ximen clan's journey. 

So Qing pondered. She had a strict rule about only punishing those with a karma score of -100 or worse. If she compromised even once, she might spiral out of control and become an indiscriminate killing machine. 

But...what if she just roughed them up a little? Bad deeds deserved punishment, right? Especially when these guys were supposed to be the good guys.