I Am This Murim's Crazy Bitch

They’d thrown in every herb and vegetable imaginable and simmered it all night—this wasn’t your average broth.

The aroma alone was already an intense mix of bitter medicinal scents and the freshness of vegetables. As they added rice and brought it to a roaring boil, both master and disciple stood there swallowing their drool with audible gulps.

And finally, when the bubbling porridge was ladled into a bowl and a raw egg cracked in and stirred—thus was born the sacred concoction: Medicinal Vegetable Egg Porridge.

Smiles crept onto their faces. Somewhere, as if summoned, two spoons appeared in their hands. They blew on the porridge for a good while before taking that first bite—

“Hmm.”

“...Mmm.”

Their expressions turned... complicated.

“...Wait. You’ve never tried this before, have you?”

“My master just had me drink tonics, not boil them into a bath like this. Ahem.”

See, the thing was—this miracle bath was supposed to be bathed in, not eaten.

Naturally, it tasted bland and bitter, with the raw, grassy aftertaste of every plant in existence jammed together.

“Let’s try seasoning it. Got any salt on you?”

“Of course I do. Doesn’t everyone?”

Qing wasn’t sure why that would be obvious, but hey—if she didn’t know, now she did. A valuable lesson learned.

She made a mental note: Always carry rock salt and dried herbs. And dried meat, too. There’s not a single piece of meat in here...

Adding salt helped a little.

Hot rice porridge with just egg and salt is usually pretty good, but this broth was so weirdly bitter that even the simplest version of egg porridge barely held up. Still, with some creative grimacing, the dish became passable.

“Mmm. Tastes... healthy.”

“There’s a reason ‘drinking tonics like meals’ isn’t meant as a compliment. Tonics should be taken as tonics, not as food.”

To be fair, Qing could eat just about anything.

And “anything” included rotting garbage and bugs—stuff that would send a normal person straight to the grave. So this egg porridge, while gross, was no real challenge for her.

Cheon Yuhak, on the other hand, was a silver-spoon noble in an aging man’s body. He struggled. Badly.

He managed to force down one bowl because it was a miracle tonic, but true to his over-the-top heritage, he’d made enough for several adult men.

Eventually, he put down his spoon, completely uninterested, and just stared at Qing with something between awe and horror as she devoured the rest like it was nothing.

The amount could’ve fed four grown adults two full bowls each. Through simple math, that meant Qing had eaten seven bowls by herself.

Even back in her homeland, a land overflowing with strange spectacles, the sight of a beautiful woman inhaling food like a bottomless pit—without even tasting it—was a favorite pastime.

It wasn’t just impressive—it was profitable. People would toss money just to see ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) her eat more.

So imagine how it looked to the culturally deprived, spectacle-starved citizens of this ancient martial world. It was a divine revelation.

“You really were a beggar, huh... How the hell does all that even fit in there...”

“Oh wow. I do feel energy bubbling up and spreading through my body!”

“It’s not bubbling. It has spread. That’s not ‘nutritious porridge’—that’s a miracle tonic. Now get to circulating your Qi and absorb it.”

“Oh—right.”

Qing started to sit in lotus position... but her belly was so round she just stretched her legs out and leaned back on her hands.

Her stomach wasn’t some convenient bottomless storage—it simply stretched in real time, meal by meal.

Despite the lazy posture, Qing closed her eyes and began observing her Qi channels.

It was a good opportunity to study how miracle energy worked on her monster of a body.

Remembering she wasn’t like everyone else stirred up that usual, unpleasant grief.

But to pretend to be human—or at least humanoid—she had to know what made her different.

Humanoid’s okay, right?

She definitely wasn’t human. Not a monster either, or at least not fully. Just... something in-between.

At least she was alive. That meant she wasn’t an inanimate object.

...Was she?

Wait... are game characters considered inanimate objects?

Her head slumped forward.

Maybe the tonic was hitting harder than expected. Her eyes burned a little.

No more weird thoughts. Focus on Qi...

The miracle energy pushed into her dantian, dispersing evenly across her various inner energies—except the ones that were already maxed out.

Then, when she activated the Awakened Core Technique, the remaining energy abruptly redirected, concentrating entirely into the Formed Core Qi.

So basically, if she just sat around, the energy would spread out among all her non-maxed Qi types.

But if she actively circulated Qi, it would go straight into whatever method she was using.

What about everyone else, though?

“Master? Is miracle tonic supposed to behave like this?”

“Hmph. What exactly is it doing? Explain that first, then I’ll tell you if it’s normal or not.”

“Uh... I’m not great at describing it. What would it do under normal circumstances?”

“The natural energy in a miracle tonic usually spreads through the body’s extremities. About one-tenth gets stuck in the meridians, and the rest just... leaks out through the skin.”

In other words, you had to start breathing techniques and trap the energy in your dantian before it escaped.

The difficulty of absorption depended on your personal control, the internal method you practiced, and even the nature of the tonic itself.

“That’s why everyone in the martial world goes nuts chasing after ‘divine techniques.’ Even if two people drink the exact same tonic, the results differ. The better the tonic, the easier it is to absorb—and the less damage it does to your meridians. There’s a reason the Great Restoration Pill is called the king of all elixirs.”

That one-tenth of energy left behind in your meridians could actually be harmful if it was too volatile, destroying channels instead of strengthening them.

That’s why most miracle tonics were reprocessed into pills before consumption—to minimize loss and avoid damage.

“So, you’re done blabbering—did you finish absorbing it all? Not that there was much natural energy in a single bowl. I’m going outside for a nap. Go soak and suck up the rest of the good stuff.”

“Any special warnings I should know about?”

“The prescription says it’ll sting a little. But nothing unbearable.”

Qing narrowed her eyes.

“Are you sure? It’s not pain, right? Just stinging?”

“I’m telling you exactly what it says. I’ve never tried it myself. But if you’re asking theoretically—yeah, it should sting.”

Normally, miracle energy was consumed orally, spreading outward from the stomach until it leaked through the skin.

But the Awakened Core Technique was different. It could absorb energy through the skin as well as through breath.

Of course, “different” didn’t mean “efficient.” Its skin absorption rate was utter garbage—less than a fraction of normal breathing techniques.

Hence the logic: If skin absorption is that inefficient, then screw it—just submerge the whole damn body.

That was the idea behind the Miracle Bath.

Of course, when Qi pierced straight into your skin, it was definitely going to sting.

“Records say you’ll feel a cooling sensation once you get used to it or whatever. Try it and let me know how it feels. Ughhh. I’m gonna die of exhaustion. And I still have to continue your tendon-tearing bone-splitting training later... What’s there to be scared of, huh?”

“...So we’re just calling it tendon-tearing bone-splitting now?”

“When did I say that? I said Flowing Flex Technique. Is your hearing already going bad, you brat?”

“I could’ve sworn you said it...”

“Jeez. Quit saying creepy stuff out loud. What kind of teacher would put their disciple through tendon-tearing bone-splitting torture?”

“...Yeah, must’ve misheard. Sorry.”

Cheon Yuhak said it with such confidence that Qing decided she probably had misheard him.

“That whole tub is worth two hundred gold taels. Each drop costs several coins. Not one drop wasted, got it?”

With that, Cheon Yuhak headed out, leaving her with that final warning.

Two hundred taels... a single drop worth more than a handful of coins.

Suddenly, this felt very real.

Qing slowly, carefully slid herself into the bath.

The tonic reached up to her chin, and instantly, her skin began to tingle all over.

It itched. A lot.

But it didn’t last.

The moment she activated the Awakened Core Technique, her entire body lit up like someone poured soda into her bloodstream.

It was a hot, fizzing sensation—not unbearable, but definitely not pleasant either.

Like chugging a huge glass of soda: it burned, stung, and yet... it was also oddly refreshing.

****

She kept drawing in the Qi until there was nothing left to absorb—and by then, night had fallen, pitch black outside.

When she checked her progress using the Martial Record Window, she found herself at Eight-Star Core Formation.

Whoa. What the hell? So this is what they meant when they said miracle tonics are amazing.

Qing’s cultivation rank was determined entirely by the total amount of internal energy accumulated through her specific cultivation method, which is probably why her advancement was so rapid.

But Cheon Yuhak, unaware of this, was absolutely horrified.

“Eight Stars?! Are you serious—how?!”

So this was why generations of masters always stressed the importance of taking in a gifted disciple.

Cheon Yuhak decided that must be it. Whatever—a good result’s a good result, right?

“Well then. How do you feel? Like your body’s awakened?”

“...Still stings, honestly.”

It felt like she’d scrubbed every inch of her skin raw with a coarse towel and peeled off a layer of flesh.

Her whole body was tingling and flushed, and yeah, it stung—but somehow it felt... refreshing too.

“The stimulation probably dulled the meridian sensitivity in your skin. After a deep sleep, you’ll finally understand why the Awakened Core Technique is called the ‘method of awakening the body.’”

“Wait... Awakening the body? Isn’t it Awakening the divine?”

“It’s Awakened Body Technique. I gave you the manual, didn’t I?”

“But the title was Twenty-One Nights of Nocturnal Exercise! There wasn’t a single mention of ‘awakening the body’ in the key verses. Just some vague stuff about sensing the flow of Heaven and Earth...”

“That’s how martial arts mantras work. It’s always some lofty poetic nonsense. That way, each person can internalize and complete the technique in their own mental image.”

The reason martial manuals often sounded like cryptic riddles was exactly this—so that individual practitioners could adapt the method without being forced into a rigid mold.

“So it’s not Awakened Divine Technique...”

She’d thought it was Awakened Divine Core Technique, but it was just Awakened Body Core Technique. No wonder the title was gold-colored.

Qing swallowed the last part of that thought. She suddenly felt like she’d been massively conned.

“It's still a divine technique. It doesn’t have to be spelled out to count. Just get some sleep and you’ll see.”

“...What does that mean, exactly?”

“For martial artists—and especially for elite warriors—what everyone dreams of is heightened sensory awareness. Sure, the Awakened Core Technique is third-rate when it comes to building up internal Qi, but in terms of awakening the senses, it’s a peerless divine technique. You’ll be able to feel even the faintest breeze. You’ll understand how wondrous it is to feel the flow of Heaven and Earth.”

“Whoa...”

Qing’s eyes lit up.

A golden-rank technique can do that?

Cheon Yuhak gave a brief chuckle, then continued with a thoughtful hum.

“Martial World Tournament starts tomorrow, right? You’ll be busy. I’ll spend the meantime hawking herbal tonics or whatever. Let’s meet again in eight days. Next session of Flowing Flex Technique. What do you think—one shichen or three?”

And just like that... the horrible pain came flooding back.

The light in Qing’s eyes went out.