2. I Became a Super Bowl Baby in the Murim.
A market correction entered the stock chart of my life, which had been climbing smoothly upward, at the surprisingly specific point of ten months after possession.
It was at my first birthday banquet.
[Lord of the Sama Alliance arrives !! ]
What the fX.
Why is he arriving.
I Became a Super Bowl Baby in the Murim.
After nine more months had passed since possession, I decided to regard this world as a martial arts novel.
If they had dropped me here to live with alternate-history vibes in medieval China—so, if it were just an ordinary time slip—there is nothing I can do right now.
What could a 21st-century Korean possibly do in medieval China without even knowing the era. My grasp on our own history is hazy enough, and I am already confused about the order of Chinese dynasties, so there is no way I would know microhistory.
For example, let us say I am the eldest grandson of some General Kim So-and-so. Even if next year General Kim So-and-so gets beheaded for treason in the history books, there is nothing I can do about it. I know nothing, and I have no way to respond.
I say it again: do not start with assumptions that cannot be reasoned through.
A baby's head turns to mush if it thinks about complicated things for too long. At this point, I need to squeeze my brain with extreme efficiency. Even ordinary thoughts are too complex for a baby—
"Dyaaah (I want to sleep) ..
Hah. Sip.
I quickly swallowed the drool flowing from the corner of my mouth and came back to my senses. For a moment, I almost became a wah-wah baby again.
Let us think of something else.
This place is a martial arts world.
With this single assumption, many problems are resolved.
If I have entered a martial arts novel, it is a genre I used to read fairly often. I am not completely ignorant.
If the point of possession is infancy, then the fact that this is a martial arts world is actually an advantage. That is because there exists a solid early-education encouragement system in which learning martial arts at a young age gives bonus points.
Then now we enter the domain of 'what should I learn.'
"Beeeh (let's go). Bbyaaah (let's go already)!!"
"Oh my, young master, do you want to go look around outside again?"
I fussed toward the wet nurse, flailing my hands about. Now that I had entered my ninth month after possession, the wet nurse would often carry me out to stroll through the garden.
During those times, cradled in her arms, I would babble with an innocent expression while sharply observing everything around me.
The clothing and behavior of passing attendants and martial officials.
The authority of the grandmothers and grandfathers who looked like elders of the clan, and the way they treated me.
The scale and influence of this household.
"First prize, without a doubt."
If the possession ticket were compared to a lottery win, then this situation is clearly first prize.
If I had been born as the son of an ordinary commoner in a savage medieval age, I could die at any moment. Considering the horrific infant mortality rate of the Middle Ages, third prize is basically death.
But if you are born into a household of such tremendous power, it is a different story.
My body is healthy without a single ailment, and there are more than five wet nurses and maids alone who attend to me around the clock. I am being treated as lavishly as any king or noble.
"Which household it is matters."
With this level of power, one could reasonably expect imperial princes of the royal family, regional hegemonic clans, or great noble houses like prestigious aristocratic families.
This is not something that can be achieved by simply having money. In China, capital did not directly translate into power. If a wealthy merchant had only money, powerful figures would beat them down before they could even build a single estate. That is true even in modern times.
So this is a power-holding class.
"The estate is near a city."
I have never been close enough to reach it, but I have seen traveling merchants coming and going in the distance. Their clothing was far too neat for people who had traveled from afar.
To maintain an estate of this size near a city means that nearly an entire village is owned by a single family. And that means…
"There is a high chance this is an orthodox sect."
If they belong to the authorities, it would be a great prestigious house. If they belong to the martial world, then the chances are high that it is a noble clan. And that means, among martial-world starting babies, this is practically a Super Bowl.
Martial arts are, by principle, bi-in-bu-jeon .
If you are not someone they trust, they do not teach you.
Here, what the Chinese consider a "person you can trust" ultimately comes down to guanxi—the network of personal connections, such as acquaintances recommended through known families.
With a household of this caliber, it would not even matter if their inherited martial arts were mediocre. Masters brought in through guanxi would more than make up for it.
In other words, this meant that the possession ticket had effectively been upgraded from a lottery win to a Super Bowl.
"If only I could learn the name of the family."
And if I were to sift through everything and pick a true jackpot, it would of course be the Five Great Clans.
Orthodox-aligned great families, powerful enough at the clan level to call regional imperial princes their brothers, massive hegemonic houses capable of maintaining private armies—warlords in their own right.
The martial arts they possessed ranked among the very best in the entire martial world, and the elders of the family were high-ranking seniors of the orthodox murim.
With conditions like these, calling it a Super Bowl would be more than justified.
My question was answered the very next week.
Because my father personally scooped me up and carried me all the way to the signboard.
"Now, Hwi-ya. Look. Can you not feel the majestic spirit?"
"B(uh) ..."
Held aloft, I blankly followed my father's hand and looked at the signboard. Yes—this man was currently gripping his own son with one hand.
This hulking uncle of a man continued to shout thunderously, at a volume absolutely hostile to eardrum health.
"You will one day become a pillar of this family, and together with your brothers, uphold the house—"
"Ugeh."
I barely heard half of what he was saying. I was devoting every ounce of my concentration to reading the characters.
At the entrance to the estate stood a massive gate tower—massive not from a baby's perspective, but even from that of a grown adult. It was the sort of scale you would only see in a Chinese travel documentary.
Thick pillars, far too large for a single person to wrap their arms around, supported a majestic roof, and all of it was painted jet-black, gleaming.
And at the very center was the thing I had been longing for.
The signboard.
Each character was enormous—easily the size of a grown man. A truly… truly massive signboard. And here, a signboard directly represented the prestige of a family, proving that this house was, at the very least, firmly in the great clan class.
…..
"Da (大) … Ha (河) … Buk (北) … damn it, I've never seen that character before, and that one is… Ga (家)…!"
The calligraphy isn't familiar, but thankfully I can make out characters readable at about a level-9 civil-service exam.
Dae-Ha-Buk-X-Ga.
What word goes in that X?
It's obvious. I don't even need to know the character itself—this is common sense territory. There's no way a random Jang or Kim would suddenly be slotted in there.
Daehabuk Paeng Clan .
One of the Five Great Clans of the Murim Under Heaven
A Chinese-made (back when China was still nice) Super Bowl.
An overwhelmingly S-tier starting ticket for a Murim baby.
I had become the young master of the Hebei Paeng Clan.
"Lucky me."
I babbled while desperately trying to keep the corners of my mouth—already threatening to ascend into a full grin—from twitching upward.
Never in my life had my father's booming, guffawing laughter sounded so pleasant.
A sudden surge of filial piety welled up inside me, and I grabbed his sleeve tightly and even gave it a kiss.
What is a Five Great Clan of the Murim?
Just as fantasy worlds have orcs and goblins, elves and dwarves, northern grand dukes and evil imperial families, they are a group that exists firmly in the realm of "common sense."
As representatives of the orthodox murim, there exist the Nine Sects and the Five Great Clans. It is much like how the UN has permanent members.
Even in China, a land with populations counted in the hundreds of millions, they are an exceedingly small, chosen elite. Wherever you go, simply stating your affiliation is enough to have people fold immediately—the absolute pinnacle of guanxi.
"The Five Great Clans… the Hebei Paeng Clan…"
Among them, the Five Great Clans are the great houses that handle the secular side of the orthodox faction. They are regional hegemonic families intertwined with local power.
To put it simply, think of them as the Orthodox Power Rangers.
Namgung as Red (authority), Zhuge as Blue (wisdom), Murong as Pink (elegance), Tang as Yellow (resolve), and Paeng as Green (martial might).
There are variations—Hwangbo Clan, the Shandong Yue Clan, the Jinju Eon Clan—adding black teams and purple teams and the like.
But no matter how you slice it, the major league is still those five.
And on top of all that—the Hebei Paeng Clan.
This is really…
"The best."
First prize is obviously the Namgung Clan. In every work, they're the aristocrats among aristocrats—the ones where a Sword Emperor pops out, their inherited martial arts are insane, and the family pedigree is absurd.
But if it's the Hebei Paeng Clan, I can say with confidence that this is second prize.
"If it were the Zhuge Clan, genius starting would be impossible. The Murong Clan… honestly, I don't even know what's so good about them. If it's not the Sichuan Tang Clan, then Hebei Paeng is definitely second prize."
Depending on the story, the Five Great Clans can become antagonists, or they can be background supporters. Zhuge and Namgung, especially, tend to fall into that role. Hypocritical orthodox bastards—they're always on the list.
But the Hebei Paeng Clan?
The strong-but-kind-of-dumb friend position.
When it comes to saber techniques, they are practically unrivaled under heaven. A martial family with deep loyalty, wide respect (solid guanxi), and a bold, straightforward temperament.
The very icon of the orthodox faction—laughing heartily and rushing headfirst into righteous causes.
Unlike the other four orthodox clans, this one rarely shows up as a true enemy. There's a stereotype that they're not smart enough to scheme or betray.
On top of that, they use sabers, which is another bonus. Fewer competitors means it's easier to make a name.
For example, a Sword King would have to contend with every family and sect that uses swords.
But a Saber Emperor?
That title almost always goes to the head of the Paeng Clan. There are fewer competitors, and among them, Paeng holds the greatest power—so it's only natural.
"Ppbbyaa—!!"
I spent another day as a superstar, smiling brightly at the wet nurse and the maids.
This is seriously the best. The Hebei Paeng Clan—a great family with overwhelming wealth and authority, and inherited martial arts ranked at the pinnacle of the murim.
I must have done a lot of good deeds in my past life. I mean, I did pick up trash off the ground a few times, and I helped old men pulling handcarts now and then.
Hehe. Hehehe.
"Oh my, it looks like the young master is in an exceptionally good mood today!"
"Bbyaaah!!"
Now then—my life route was more or less set.
– Our Hebei Paeng Clan has produced a genius like this?!
– A kid from our family who actually uses his head?!
– Please lead the clan at once, Young Master!!
Oh dear. Don't you know?
All possessors are geniuses by default…
Thus was born the Young Master with the greatest mind in Paeng Clan history—armed with the shining intellect and reason of the 21st century, enough to insult even the gods themselves.
"Heuhehe… hehe… bbyaa…!"
…..
Ahh.
Maybe I should casually knock out the Thousand Character Classic by age three?
One week later.
At my first birthday banquet, with the gathered elders all lying flat on the ground—
"Go,"
I found myself facing an old man whose gaze alone felt like it could fillet ten people on the spot.
"The current Paeng Clan is truly blessed with sons."
I heard that murderous mutter—as if he were considering personally resetting that blessing—
As the old man known as the Sama Alliance Lord forced every member of the household to their knees and looked down at me.
"Eueuh (I pooped)..."
It's… all wet.