Chapter 16: The Answer Has Already Been Heard
Chapter 16: The Answer Has Already Been Heard
That afternoon, Seo Dae-ryong arrived, leading a dozen investigators from the Huangquan Pavilion.
As it became clear that a full-scale investigation was underway, a ripple of unease spread through the Demon Army. Rumors flew that every single member, starting with Jang Ho himself, would be subjected to a grueling, microscopic scrutiny.
Then, that evening, the tension finally snapped.
I was resting in my room when a Huangquan Pavilion investigator burst through the door, breathless.
"It’s an emergency! Young Master, you need to come quickly!"
When I arrived, the hallway outside the interrogation room was a scene of absolute carnage. A violent brawl had broken out between the Demon Army warriors and the investigators.
"Stop this at once!"
I shoved my way into the center of the fray, forcing the clashing groups apart with sheer physical presence.
One investigator lay sprawled on the floor, drenched in blood. This wasn't just a simple beating. A jagged gash ran across his face, pouring crimson onto the stone, and his chest was caved in from what looked like broken ribs.
A furious Seo Dae-ryong had tried to intervene, but he, too, had been roughed up, unable to withstand the overwhelming martial might of the Demon Army.
"Are you badly hurt?" I asked, glancing at him.
"I’m alright," Seo Dae-ryong wheezed, "but my colleague is in critical condition."
"Take him to the infirmary immediately."
The other investigators scrambled to carry their fallen comrade away.
The instigator of the chaos, First Division Leader Go Dang, stood nearby with an expression of utter shamelessness.
"Was this your doing?" I demanded.
"It was."
The cultists flanking him were all members of the Demon Army’s First Division. Surrounded by his own men, Go Dang didn't look the least bit intimidated. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself, and his subordinates looked as if they were on the verge of snickering.
"It feels like the kind of day where a certain prophecy might finally come true," I remarked.
At my words, Seo Dae-ryong—who knew exactly which prophecy I was referring to—swallowed hard.
"What’s all this nonsense about a prophecy?" Go Dang sneered.
Instead of me, Seo Dae-ryong answered, his eyes fixed intently on Go Dang’s head. "Division Leader Go... it’s a prophecy you definitely wouldn't want to hear."
"Then I’ll make a prophecy for you, Young Master Lee," Go Dang countered. "Once you’re ousted from the succession race, you’ll be exiled from the Cult. You'll end up a parasite, begging for scraps from those bastards in the Orthodox Murim Alliance."
The surrounding First Division warriors erupted into raucous laughter.
Instead of taking offense, I looked genuinely pleased. "Oh, what a wonderful prophecy!"
"Wonderful?" Go Dang blinked, confused.
"It means I survived even after losing the struggle for power, doesn't it? Plus, I get to live the rest of my life as a parasite without ever having to lift a finger! Isn't a life of idle comfort the ultimate dream? Thank you for the prophecy! I shall look forward to my second life."
Go Dang, finding himself the target of my mockery, scowled deeply.
"Why did you injure the Huangquan Pavilion warrior?" I asked, my tone shifting back to cold steel.
"He bumped into my shoulder in the hallway. He tried to walk away without apologizing, so I simply taught the brat a lesson."
"I’m sure you’re the one who initiated the collision. And even if he had apologized, you wouldn't have let it slide."
Go Dang didn't bother to deny it; he just smirked. His subordinates laughed along with him.
"You are poison," I said quietly.
Go Dang’s brow furrowed. "Poison? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Your subordinates. They are poison to you."
"What kind of gibberish is that?"
As long as his men were watching, his pride wouldn't allow him to back down. Ultimately, he would charge headlong into the destruction I had planned for him.
"Go Dang, didn't you kill a fellow cultist in this exact manner last year? And the year before that, didn't you beat three people to death after a drunken brawl at a tavern?"
The victims had all been low-ranking warriors. The Demon Army had buried the incidents before they could ever become official cases.
"The world is full of retards who have no respect for their seniors," Go Dang spat. His eyes shot me a look that clearly added: Just like you.
"Are you aware of this? I received something before I came down here."
"And what would that be?"
"The Summary Execution Right."
The hallway fell deathly silent the moment I mentioned the authority.
However, Go Dang merely snorted in derision. "What good is authority? You don't have the power to enforce it."
His subordinates erupted in laughter again.
This was the 'poison' I spoke of. This is what happens when a fool becomes overly conscious of his audience. Normally, the mention of such power should have made him wary, but he was too busy posturing in front of his men. He was the only one who didn't realize what kind of stage he was standing on.
As I took a step forward, the First Division cultists surrounding Go Dang surged toward me, hands on their hilts.
"Touching us is the same as touching the entire Demon Army," Go Dang warned. "I wonder if Young Master Lee truly has the courage for that."
"At least I don't hide behind my subordinates."
He raised his bandaged right hand—the one I had injured previously. "I am currently wounded because of a certain cowardly individual."
I raised my own right hand in response. "Then I won't use my right hand, either."
Go Dang flinched, clearly not expecting me to go that far. However, he was still under the delusion that he was the protagonist of this drama.
"If you get hurt, are you going to run to the Cult Leader and tattle?"
His subordinates roared with laughter. With every burst of mirth, the heat in the hallway rose.
"Whether I am injured or even killed, I will hold no one responsible," I declared.
"Do you swear it?"
I tapped the scabbard of my sword twice as a vow.
Only then did the bastard accept the challenge. "Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got."
Go Dang drew his sword with his left hand. He stepped forward with confidence; he was just as skilled with his left hand as he was with his right. I, on the other hand, was strictly right-handed.
I tucked my right hand behind my back and slowly walked forward.
"What if you get desperate and use that hand?" Go Dang asked, his eyes darting to my hidden arm. He was afraid.
"Then tell your subordinates to launch a combined attack and kill me."
"Hmph! Quite the ego. I heard you put on a little talent show with those brats from the Southern Blade Sect recently. I suppose that’s where you got this confidence."
"Actually, your talent show is much more entertaining."
"Shut up!"
Go Dang lunged, his sword whistling through the air in a sharp thrust.
I viewed this duel as part of my training. The most vital part of cultivation is real combat, and a life-and-death struggle against a Division Leader of the Demon Army was an experience money couldn't buy.
Go Dang didn't hold back. He poured every ounce of his strength into every strike, desperate to draw blood. Every time his sword missed, groans of disappointment echoed from the onlookers.
To them, it must have looked like I was narrowly escaping death by a hair’s breadth, but my mind was as calm as a still lake. Fighting him confirmed it: at my current realm, I could easily handle someone like Go Dang even with just my left hand.
The only question remaining was: how many moves would it take?
I decided on forty. After this fight, the rumors would spread: Young Master Lee slays the First Division Leader of the Demon Army in forty moves.
Since I had defeated Yang Po, the disciple of the Blood Heaven Blade Demon, in about twenty moves, defeating Go Dang in forty seemed like a reasonable balance to maintain the mystery of my growth.
When we reached the fortieth move, I shifted my footwork and closed the distance.
The moment I seized the wrist of his sword hand, Go Dang tried to violently shake me off and retreat. But if he had been capable of that, I wouldn't have been able to grab him in the first place.
Holding his arm firm, I spun my body in a swift, powerful circle.
Crr-ack!
Go Dang’s arm twisted like wet laundry being wrung out. The bone snapped, protruding through the skin at his wrist.
"Aaaaaagh!"
As he screamed, my fist slammed into his face. With a heavy thud, Go Dang was sent sprawling across the floor.
I mounted his fallen body and began raining down punches. If I had used internal energy, he would have died instantly, so I delivered the blows with raw, crushing physical force.
Thwack! Crack! Thud!
One of the First Division cultists watching the scene lost his nerve and rushed at me.
Still sitting on Go Dang’s stomach, I drew my sword in a blur. The charging man’s abdomen was sliced open in a single stroke, and he collapsed forward, clutching his entrails.
The fact that I had cut him down so effortlessly shocked everyone—the Demon Army, Seo Dae-ryong, and the investigators alike.
"You crazy bastard!"
"Kill him!"
Two more of Go Dang’s henchmen drew their swords and charged. The attacks they swung in desperation became the final movements of their lives.
I sprang up and unleashed a rapid succession of thrusts. Their blades grazed my clothes, but my sword found its targets with lethal precision.
Stab! Squish!
The two men, their throats pierced, collapsed as fountains of blood sprayed the walls.
The hallway was instantly transformed into a bloodbath. Seeing three of their comrades turned into corpses in seconds, the remaining Demon Army warriors hesitated, caught between the urge to flee and the instinct to fight.
I shouted with commanding force, "The crime of those who just died is treason!"
The word 'treason' froze them in their tracks.
Having rendered them immobile, I walked back to the fallen Go Dang.
"Your Division Leader is no different. He inflicted grievous injuries on an investigator sent by the Cult Leader’s direct order. That is a clear act of treason."
I looked down at him, my gaze cold and unforgiving.
"Do you know what happened to the families of the people you killed at that tavern last year? No, of course you don't. You wouldn't have cared. They lost fathers, children, husbands. Do you think those people are living normal lives now? Who the hell do you think you are to go around beating people? Who do you think you are to kill our fellow cultists?"
"…P-please," Go Dang wheezed, "spare me."
His face was a ruin of blood and broken bone, but his eyes were filled with a desperate, pathetic longing for life.
"Why should I?"
"…I will repent." Blood welled up and spilled from his mouth.
"Liar. You’ll just do it again."
"No. Never again."
"But you already told me. You said you’d keep doing it."
"…When did I say that?"
"Your past life already gave me the answer."
I raised my foot high and brought it down on Go Dang’s head with a surge of internal energy.
Whoosh—!
Crunch.
His skull burst like a ripened melon, ending his life instantly.
A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the hallway. No one could have imagined that I would actually crush the skull of Go Dang, a man favored by the Demon Monarch.
After slaying him, I barked at the trembling First Division warriors.
"Treason is subject to summary execution. Do you want to die too? Is that why you still have your swords drawn?"
At my words, the warriors dropped their blades all at once. Their leader was dead, and stepping forward now would only mean losing their own heads. They were utterly overwhelmed by the martial prowess I had shown.
"The First Division of the Demon Army is confined to quarters until further notice! From this moment on, anyone who leaves their room will be executed for treason! Understood?"
I gestured for them to leave. They didn't dare refuse, filing out of the hallway in a daze.
The Huangquan Pavilion investigators were staring at me with stunned expressions. Mixed in with their shock were clear feelings of awe and admiration.
Seo Dae-ryong approached me, his voice low. "You are far stronger than I imagined, Young Master."
"What did you expect?"
"Well… I didn't think you could defeat the First Division Leader so decisively."
"We had the prophecy, didn't we?"
I meant it as a joke, but Seo Dae-ryong didn't laugh. He looked around at the corpses scattered about with a tense expression.
"Even if it’s you, Young Master… is it really okay to do this?"
I spoke firmly to the frightened man. "Don't make a fuss over a few dead bodies. I came here prepared to cut down half of the Demon Army if necessary."
Seo Dae-ryong’s eyes went wide—the widest I had ever seen them.
*
That evening, the Demon Monarch summoned me.
He didn't wait for me in his office, but at a tavern in Ma Clan Village.
There were about a dozen taverns and kisaeng houses in Ma Clan Village, and while no one had officially designated them, they were naturally divided by rank. The establishment where the Demon Monarch waited was the most luxurious of them all.
"I called you here to share a drink after all this time."
He treated me as if nothing had happened. In fact, he was even more suggestive and soft-spoken than usual.
"Have you been here before?"
"It’s my first time," I replied.
"It’s a good place."
Indeed, the food and wine were of the highest quality, and the kisaeng were exceptional beauties. The musicians' skills were also top-notch.
"It looks expensive."
"It’s the most expensive place in Ma Clan Village. I prepared this specifically for you today."
He was a man who took immense pride in such luxury and hedonism.
"Life is short and unpredictable; one should enjoy it to the fullest while they can. Don't you agree?"
"You are absolutely right."
"Come, let us drink."
I drank with him. The Demon Monarch acted as if he owned the place, clearly a frequent guest. He sang songs as he drank and even stood up to dance with the kisaeng. Despite having summoned me because of Go Dang’s death, he didn't mention it once.
Since I had been far removed from such entertainment in my past life, I simply played along enough to keep the mood.
After a round of revelry, once he was sufficiently drunk, the Demon Monarch finally dismissed the kisaeng.
"I heard there was a small 'accident' involving my boys?"
His use of the phrase 'small accident' reflected exactly how he intended to handle the matter.
"Yes. There was an unintended clash."
A Division Leader of the Demon Army had been killed. It was an event that should have turned the Cult upside down, but the Demon Monarch intended to use it as an opportunity to turn a misfortune into a blessing.
"Let’s just let bygones be bygones and wrap things up here, shall we? I only used him because I had to, but that First Division Leader was a fellow with many shady corners anyway."
He meant to pin everything on the dead Go Dang and end it there.
Wow, you really are a piece of work.
The man had been his loyal subordinate. To make him a scapegoat instead of seeking revenge—this is why only the dead are truly pitiful.
"Even if it was for an investigation, you killing a Division Leader could become a major issue if someone chose to make it one, couldn't it?"
"I apologize for that."
"What do you say? Shall we conclude it here? One Division Leader and three subordinates should be enough, shouldn't it?"
"Thank you for your consideration. I also wish to settle this amicably, but there is one problem."
"What problem?"
"I have no evidence. I came here on an official investigation; I need evidence to report back to my superiors, don't I?"
"You can just patch together some evidence."
"That would be difficult. The anonymous report I received stated that the First Division had been taking private assassination contracts from outside the Cult. This isn't something that can just be swept under the rug."
I had heard this from Jang Ho, but I claimed it was in the report. The Demon Monarch struggled to hide his shock; he clearly hadn't expected me to know that.
"To close this case, I absolutely need evidence."
I didn't explicitly ask him to hand it over. But he understood my meaning perfectly.
This only ends when you provide the evidence.
After our brief secret talk, the Demon Monarch brought the kisaeng back in and continued drinking and playing. He tried to act even more festive than before, but I could feel his inner turmoil throughout the rest of the night. His dance moves were no longer as nimble as they had been.