Chapter 171: Evolutionist
While all under heaven draws the Taiji in accordance with the fixed and unchanging Kung-Fu principles of gravity, there is grandeur in the view that the form of Kung-Fu—beginning from the One Origin and surpassing the Nine Palaces—repeats miraculous and unpredictable evolution.
-Charles Robert Darwin, <On the Origin of Martial Species>-
Outer London. Bromley Borough.
A town of sixty-five thousand, lying south beyond London County.
It was not widely known that Charles Darwin, the father of Evolutionary Mysticobiology and Martial World Selection Kung-fu Theory, lived in seclusion here.
At his side in life’s twilight were three companions. Emma, an assistant fluent in five languages who had gone from cousin to wife, and Harriet the Galápagos Ten-Thousand-Year Golden-Tortoise, and Larry the Red-Masked Golden Parrot.
Once, to complete the Evolution Twelve-Form Fist, he had tested strength against the spirit beasts of the Galápagos and set out on duel-journeys to seek masters, but the vigor of youth had long since vanished from him.
It was only natural that rumors spread of Darwin living quietly and elegantly in retreat somewhere in Britain.
In truth, his public activity had diminished to a degree incomparable to the past.
But the reality was entirely different. -Tak!-
Darwin was struggling every single day.
-Deureuk!-
The two themes that led him to his current realm, evolution and natural selection, had not brought only enlightenment.
-Tadak!-
It was true that after his Eureka in the Galápagos he wrote ‘On the Origin of Martial Species’ and began to assume the stature of a grandmaster, but now Darwin rather resented that enlightenment.
“Training is fine, but do take it easy.”
His wife’s voice came from behind.
Darwin, striking the mannequin while his beard flew, regulated his breathing.
“In simple movements, the seed of subtle principle that evolves without limit takes root. In the routine of Twelve-Form Fist, Earth Dragon, there is still room to evolve, so I cannot stop training.”
“And what will you do if your vitality withers?”
It had already been a week since Darwin had cut off food and drink and lived with the mannequin in his arms.
Emma watched with worried eyes, but Darwin only shook his head.
“My dear. I have not yet overcome my inner-demon. To meet my final day without enlightenment and end my life in regret is a great disgrace.”
The routine Darwin had just displayed carried no internal strength, yet it flowed unbroken like water, its depth hard to fathom.
Yet Darwin himself showed not the slightest satisfaction.
“…I’ll bring tea.”
Having read her companion’s heart, Emma quietly slipped out of the training hall.
“Thank you.”
After answering, Darwin’s gaze turned forward once more.
His eyes were fixed not on the mannequin, but on the empty air beyond it.
Emma, on her way to fetch tea, halted and looked back at Darwin.
Inner-demon intrusion.
The heavy shadows beneath his eyes and the bloodshot whites told that Darwin had suffered the inner-demon for a long time.
Emma, who had spent her whole life with Charles Darwin as cousin, assistant, and wife, glimpsed the fear lurking deep in her husband’s eyes.
-Tak!-
-Tadadak!-
Meanwhile, Darwin paid no heed to his wife’s worry and struck the mannequin again.
He tried to empty his mind, but it was wasted effort.
The inner-demon rooted deep within showed no sign of fading.
He wanted to deny it, but the inner-demon he carried was rooted in an enlightenment gained by no one but Darwin himself.
More precisely, the Kung-fu principles he had proclaimed were the source of the inner-demon.
Studying spirit beasts that had changed across generations in the Galápagos, Darwin realized that such change had not occurred only in animals.
Humanity too had evolved through unfathomably complex stages over a long time, coming to reign as lord of all things.
Such evolution occurred naturally as those who adapted to ever-changing environments survived longer than those who could not, and to Darwin’s eyes it looked as though they had received ‘the world’s selection.’
The repeating cycle of life and death became a sieve with a dense mesh, forcing all life endlessly to stand at the fork of selection and elimination.
Nature’s cruel yet beautiful test that picks out the strong that will live into the next age.
And that process of selection did not pass through living creatures alone.
That the Kung-Fu created by humanity was not much different was the core claim of Darwin’s ‘Martial World Selection Kung-Fu Theory.’
Unlike the radical argument on evolution in his previously published On the Origin of Martial Species, which drew backlash from Old Church believers led by the Zion Clan and became a hot potato, the Martial World Selection Kung-fu Theory, dealing with Kung-Fu itself, received a more positive response than expected.
‘Kung-Fu may be called a lifeform that parasitizes humans. More precisely, you could call it a colonial organism that maintains a symbiotic relationship.’
It was only a metaphor, yet Darwin’s witty insight offered from a Mysticobiologist’s perspective sparked a massive echo.
Duelists were, as a rule, the sort who pointed blades in all directions and itched to take others’ lives.
And Kung-Fu was a parasitic organism that any duelist raised, at least one of, inside their body.
This organism possessed various functions that aided its host’s survival, and through fortuitous encounters and triggers it spread to later people, increasing its numbers.
A host who learned strong Kung-Fu and possessed outstanding talent killed hosts who had nothing but weak Kung-Fu and lacking aptitude.
As a result, weak Kung-Fu gradually became lost in the martial world, disappearing until it could no longer be found.
In short, Kung-Fu too could be selected or eliminated in this merciless martial world.
This was the background behind Darwin’s claim that Kung-Fu was ‘no different from a parasitic organism that shares fate with its practitioner.’
Only the Kung-Fu that could kill others more efficiently.
Only the internal energy methods that could build internal strength faster than others.
Only the lightness skills that helped one evade a strong man’s blade.
Endured time’s ordeal and were passed down to this century.
How was this different from the convergent evolution the small birds of the Galápagos had undergone?
To Darwin, there was no difference to speak of between the two.
And this was the very source of the inner-demon that had torn at Darwin’s heart for so long.
‘Just as humanity, born from repeated evolution over long ages, became the dominant species of earth, might a single absolute grandmaster’s Kung-Fu lore, the greatest Kung-Fu, come to rule the martial world in the distant future?’
Kung-Fuists lived yearning for the juniors they taught their vision to spread their fame across the martial world.
But Darwin’s wish had to be denied by the very theory he had completed.
For according to the Kung-fu principles he proclaimed, if the living, breathing Kung-Fu across the martial world each achieved evolution, then someday the greatest teaching among them would come to rule Murim.
The tower built up over a lifetime might be toppled by the hands of someone without malice.
The fear that such a tragedy might come someday enveloped Darwin.
He feared that after he died, a flawless peerless divine art would be born and deny all other Kung-Fu in the martial world.
And he feared because he had directly faced the monster who might make that dreadful imagined future real.
“…Phileas Fogg.”
Once again, he was a man who was indeed worthy of the call sign Heavenly Demon Red Dragon.
Especially in how he planted an inner-demon no one could overcome in others.
“Someday, I will surely catch up.”
Darwin gently closed his eyes.
Behind his closed lids, the image of Phileas Fogg dueling Queen Victoria at Buckingham still wavered.
It had already been years since he had distanced himself from those comrades who walked the path of Kung-Fu with him and discussed fists, including Fabre the Praying Mantis.
Darwin still trained alone, chasing the clue to enlightenment that would help him cross the wall.
If he could not overcome this demonic obstruction the elders of The Royal Combat Society had even named ‘Darwin’s inner-demon,’ there would be no greater humiliation.
Still, one fortunate thing was that Darwin’s desperate effort had achieved a small accomplishment.
The problem was that so much time had passed since he last witnessed Phileas Fogg’s Kung-Fu that the comparative image of that Kung-Fu had grown faint.
“Heavenly Demon Descending Steps, was it. If only once more, I could carve his trick into my eyes…”
That was when.
A maid came running, hopping over the training hall’s threshold.
“A guest.”
“I’m busy. Send them away.”
“It’s a man called the Little Heavenly Demon. He says he wishes to see you no matter what…”
“Little Heavenly Demon?”
The moment a bizarre thread of fate connected.
Darwin straightened his back and started running to the front door.
I left the townhouse near the Tower of London where the Butler Agency’s Safe House was located, taking Watson with me.
Then I immediately headed south to Bromley, where Charles Darwin’s home was.
A Butler Agency agent disguised as the driver drove the carriage for a full hour and brought us to our destination.
“I heard Elder Darwin is in seclusion, having paused his training activities for a time. Is it truly all right to barge in without notice? It feels like we’re committing discourtesy, and it makes me somewhat…”
After I briefly summarized what I had discussed with Mycroft, Watson asked with a worried face.
“Rather than keep manners and let London burn, I’ll commit a little discourtesy and protect everything.”
When I answered firmly, Watson nodded, her unease still not gone.
“I thought, what if the elder issues an expulsion order. I also heard he’s scarcely published anything these past few years…”
“I can say with certainty there’s no need to worry.”
I threw open the carriage door and jumped down, then offered Watson my hand.
“Unlike the Azure Dragon that’s only bones, the Vermilion Phoenix is alive. A divine beast is a research subject all Mysticobiologists long for. And besides…”
“And besides?”
I hesitated briefly, then spoke.
“It’s a bit embarrassing to say, but the reason Elder Darwin began closed-door training is because of my master.”
“…It feels like there’s nowhere that person doesn’t appear these days.”
“It’s your imagination.”
Before I even finished, a maid tending the garden saw us and hurried over.
When I stated my call sign and business, she made a doubtful expression, then went inside to report to the master.
Thirty seconds later.
“So it’s you. The one said to be the disciple of the Heavenly Demon Red Dragon.”
A white-browed old man, eyes bloodshot red as if madness had flared, opened the estate door and greeted us, panting.
“Um… who are you, exactly…?”
Perhaps because of his sweat-soaked, shabby state, Watson did not recognize who he was.
“This late learner of London Murim, Sherlock Holmes, offers greetings to the Lunar Society Lord.”
“A-ah Elder Darwin, hello, I am Watson, an aspiring medic who has enjoyed reading your works since the days I was enrolled in London’s Great Officer Corps—”
…What an outrageous discourtesy to the homeowner.