Chapter 183: When a Crack Forms Between People
Chapter 183: When a Crack Forms Between People
The next day, I headed to the training grounds of the Blue Fists.
Dressed in their signature blue martial robes, they were a clear step above the White Fists. They possessed a level of composure that reflected the significant gap in their skills.
Since the Fist Demon had not yet arrived, I exchanged casual greetings with them. Naturally, they were already aware that I had been training with the White Fists.
One of them approached me and asked, "Did you learn everything you needed to from the White Fists? I heard you were only there for about a week."
"How long did it take you?" I countered.
"It took me two years. If you didn't build a proper foundation with the White Fists, training with the Blue Fists won't be easy."
He sounded like he was speaking out of concern, but in reality, he was masking his disapproval. We struggled for two years, yet you passed in just a few days? He was subtly venting his frustration, implying that I had only advanced because of my status as the Second Young Master—that it was a difference in rank, not skill.
I didn't bother making excuses. There were bound to be others with similar grievances, and this wasn't a problem that could be solved with words anyway.
A moment later, the Fist Demon appeared. I had learned after arriving here that the Fist Demon personally supervised the training of everyone, from the White Fists all the way up to the Black Fists. While other Demon Lords only taught their direct disciples and left the instruction of lower-ranking subordinates to others, the Fist Demon looked after all his men himself.
"I truly respect the fact that you personally instruct every Iron Fist," I said loudly.
Everyone probably thought I was just sucking up, but I meant it. In an atmosphere where no one even dared to ask questions, the Fist Demon likely hadn't heard such words often. That was why I said it.
The Fist Demon’s gaze shifted toward me. Looking into his fierce, blunt face, I spoke even louder.
"You are magnificent!"
Rather than saying it a hundred times in private, it was better to say it once like this, in front of everyone. At least in this regard, it wasn't the Flattery Divine Art. He deserved the praise. It was no easy feat for a Demon Lord to care for even his lowest-ranking subordinates.
Nevertheless, the Fist Demon’s eyes seemed to say:
—Your tricks won't work on me.
My eyes shot back:
—Then they should work, because this isn't a trick.
As the actual training began, the Blue Fists all stripped off their tops.
From the Blue Fist rank upward, they trained bare-chested. This was to allow for the observation of every single muscle movement. As everyone bared their torsos, their eyes turned toward me. Their gazes seemed to say, Let’s see what our pale little Second Young Master’s body looks like.
I slowly took off my clothes as well. When they saw my body, a collective gasp filled the air.
It was covered in lean, functional muscles forged through grueling training and marked by countless scars. If they knew who had inflicted each of those wounds, even the Fist Demon would have been horrified.
I gave everyone a broad smile and said, "I came here so I wouldn't have to get hit anymore."
A clear sneer flickered across the Fist Demon’s lips. He still harbored a deep distrust, waiting to see just how long I would last.
The training began in earnest.
Once again, the Fist Demon didn't explain a single movement. I watched the others perform their forms and then followed suit. From the techniques these men were learning, breathing methods became crucial. I learned those as well. Using the New Eye Technique, I observed their noses, throats, stomachs, and mouths in detail to decipher their breathing patterns.
Then, I asked the Fist Demon for confirmation.
"Please check if this breathing method is correct."
"Who taught you the breathing method?"
"I learned it just now by watching the others perform their martial arts."
None of the Blue Fists seemed to believe me.
However, the Fist Demon surely would. He was undoubtedly reading my aura. I wondered how he was evaluating my skill.
My father’s words came to mind—that if I became entangled with the Fist Demon through martial arts, we would inevitably end up clashing.
Looking at him, I raised my hand high and spoke.
"I have another question!"
*
The next day, and the day after that, I trained diligently.
The somewhat crooked gazes the Blue Fists had directed at me eventually vanished. I worked harder than anyone, performed better than anyone, and above all, I drew out a new side of the Fist Demon.
"How should this form be utilized in actual combat?"
Strictly speaking, this question wasn't for the Blue Fists; it was for the Fist Demon.
I was certain the Fist Demon wanted to tell his subordinates about the practical applications of the forms. If it were me, I would have wanted to. Would the Fist Demon be any different?
Sure enough, he explained it in such detail that it made me wonder what he would have done if I hadn't asked. The Blue Fists also seemed surprised. They probably hadn't expected the Fist Demon to give such a thorough explanation.
"Is there a specific mindset for not fearing a sword?"
I asked questions about psychological aspects like that.
"Why the fist?"
I even asked fundamental questions.
In fact, it was a question that everyone from the White Fists to the Black Fists—and even the Fist Demon himself—should keep asking.
Simultaneously, I naturally asked myself as well.
Why the sword?
The answer one finds to that question determines how far they can grow.
Five days after I began training with the Blue Fists.
In front of the watching Blue Fist warriors, the Fist Demon spoke to me.
"Starting tomorrow, report for training with the Red Fists."
"Yes, sir."
None of the Blue Fists objected to this decision. In just a few days, I had perfectly mastered the forms they practiced.
It reached the point where the man who had spoken to me on the first day came over to apologize.
"Please forgive my rudeness on the first day."
"Anyone would have thought the same. There will probably be someone in the Red Fists who says the exact same thing."
"That person will also come to apologize in a few days, just like me. Thank you for opening our foolish eyes."
All the Blue Fist warriors standing behind him bowed their heads slightly toward me. I returned the gesture. Even if only for the fact that I had allowed them to see a new side of the Fist Demon, it must have been a meaningful time for them.
*
"I heard Mu-geuk is training under the Fist Demon."
Geom Mu-yang was keeping a sharp eye on his younger brother’s movements.
"I heard he broke through the Blue Fist training in just ten days and started training with the Red Fists two or three days ago," replied the Demon Buddha, who was sitting across from him.
"With the Second Young Master's martial skill, that is well within the realm of possibility."
The Demon Buddha knew exactly what the First Young Master was worried about. He was afraid that the Second Young Master might actually become the Fist Demon’s disciple.
"You need not worry about the Fist Demon. If the Second Young Master tries to win him over, it will only backfire."
At that, Geom Mu-yang recalled the past.
"Do you remember what you told me before?"
"What did I say?"
"That the Drunken Demon is an unpredictable man. Once he starts stirring things up, even the Second Young Master won't be able to handle him easily. You said the Second Young Master would lose the Demon Lords he had so painstakingly gathered."
Those were the words the Demon Buddha had spoken to Geom Mu-yang when he received the broken wine bottle from the Drunken Demon.
But in the end, the news that reached them was of Geom Mu-geuk drinking and playing with the Drunken Demon.
"Don't take this the wrong way. It's just that I can't ignore what happened with the Drunken Demon."
Though he told him not to take it the wrong way, the Demon Buddha was not pleased. Was there really a need to repeat his exact words so accurately? Didn't it mean he had been dwelling on that failure all this time?
Is it true that once a crack forms between people, it can never be mended?
At first, he had tried to ignore the crack, being careful not to let it break further, thinking that as long as it didn't shatter, it would be fine.
But the Demon Buddha felt it now.
In human relationships, the important thing wasn't whether the crack shattered or not. The problem was the very existence of the crack itself.
If his counterpart hadn't been Geom Mu-yang, this relationship would have been settled one way or another by now. But he couldn't do that. Geom Mu-yang was the path he had chosen. He had staked his life on him.
Geom Mu-yang said to the Demon Buddha, "Could you meet with the Fist Demon and find out what he's thinking?"
"Yes, I will go see him."
The Demon Buddha readily accepted the request.
As he stood up to leave, the Demon Buddha looked back at Geom Mu-yang. He wanted to tell him: If you're anxious, it's okay to show it. You can tell me everything. Tell me that your brother is too strong and hard to handle. You'll feel much better once you say it all.
But the words caught in his throat and wouldn't come out.
"What is it? Do you have something to say?"
"No. I'll be on my way."
Leaving the office, the Demon Buddha reproached himself.
If the First Young Master can't do it, I should at least be candid... I shouldn't blame Mu-yang.
*
The next day, the Demon Buddha’s steps halted as he entered the Eastern Fist Sect.
He saw Geom Mu-geuk standing with the Red Fist warriors.
"Spread your legs more. Lower your arms."
Geom Mu-geuk was correcting their movements. He knew the boy was extraordinary, but how could he be acting so friendly with the Red Fists after only a few days?
In that moment, the Demon Buddha saw Geom Mu-geuk’s eyes and expression. He was talking to the Red Fists with the passion of someone truly obsessed with the art of the fist.
Yes, that’s why. That’s why everyone falls for it. They were being deceived by that strange heat, the same one he himself had almost succumbed to.
Just then, Geom Mu-geuk spotted the Demon Buddha and ran over to greet him.
"It's been a while. Have you been well?"
Geom Mu-geuk smiled brightly. How nice would it be if Geom Mu-yang smiled that brightly?
No. Don't think such useless thoughts. He's only smiling like that because we're enemies.
Isn't it human nature to smile broadly at total strangers while scowling at your own people because you're tired? He couldn't be fooled by that smile. The First Young Master was on his side, which was why he showed his irritation; the Second Young Master was the enemy, which was why he smiled.
"I've heard rumors that you've been quite absorbed in the art of the fist lately."
"Since I'm the Huangquan Pavilion Master, there are just too many bastards I want to beat up with my fists."
"Look here, let's not play the hypocrite between us. Aren't you here to bring the Fist Demon over to your side?"
"I really like the sound of 'between us.'"
His ears kept melting at that glib tongue, which was clearly designed to sound pleasing.
"Stop the pretense and go swing those cotton fists of yours."
After making a conscious effort to be cold, the Demon Buddha headed toward the Fist Demon’s office. Behind him, he heard Geom Mu-geuk’s shout.
"The Fist Demon called them 'baby hands,' but to you, they're 'cotton fists'?"
*
"You're a busy man, so I'll get straight to the point. I've come today because of the Second Young Master."
As if he had expected as much, the Fist Demon waited silently for the Demon Buddha’s next words. The contrast between them was stark: the Fist Demon, tall and massive, and the Demon Buddha, much smaller than the average man.
"The Second Young Master’s claim that he wants to learn the art of the fist is a trick to pull you to his side."
In truth, the Demon Buddha hadn't been close with the Fist Demon before, but he felt a private sense of kinship with him. He considered his own short stature and the Fist Demon’s terrifying face to be on the same level. He viewed them as similar physical disadvantages, in that people tended to grimace when they saw them.
Of course, he had never revealed such private thoughts to anyone.
"And? Did you come all this way because you're afraid I'll flip to his side?"
"I did. I was worried. The Blood Heaven Blade Demon flipped, and so did the One Flower Sword Venerable. Even the Extreme Evil Smiling Demon and the Drunken Demon."
The Demon Buddha spoke honestly. Beating around the bush would only lead to trouble later. He had to tell him clearly.
"The Second Young Master is a fox. A fox with a hundred tails. That three-inch tongue of his is sweeter than a sycophant's. If you let your guard down, you'll find yourself making him your disciple before you know it."
The Fist Demon stared intently at the Demon Buddha and suddenly asked, "Did you almost flip, too?"
For a moment, the Demon Buddha flinched inwardly, but he spoke confidently.
"From the beginning until now, and in the future, I am on the First Young Master’s side."
"The Second Young Master told me... to protect the First Young Master."
The Demon Buddha was startled. He had said something similar to him as well.
"He said he would end the succession struggle without shedding blood."
"Do you believe those words?"
"Do you?"
The Demon Buddha didn't answer. It was the moment he should have said he didn't believe it, but the words wouldn't come. He had come to give the Fist Demon certainty, but he was only confirming that he himself had been shaken by Geom Mu-geuk.
"Go and tell the First Young Master. Tell him my support for him remains unchanged."
The Demon Buddha couldn't be sure of the Fist Demon’s true intentions, but he felt that giving him this warning was enough.
"The First Young Master will be very pleased."
With that, the Demon Buddha left the office.
On his way back, he saw Geom Mu-geuk again. In the distance, at the training ground, he was still practicing the art of the fist with the Red Fists. Even from afar, he could feel that the boy was sincerely immersed in his training. Just like when he himself had been obsessed with martial arts in his youth.
He had thought Geom Mu-geuk was impressive many times before, but today felt a little different.
It was probably because of the Red Fists training alongside him. Have you all come to trust him already? How long has it been since you met? What do you like so much about him that you're swinging your fists together?
Suddenly, the Demon Buddha felt a surge of fear toward Geom Mu-geuk.
A doubt surged like a Heart Demon. What if that scheme of his, the one that shakes people's hearts, is actually sincere? What if it turns out I'm the fool, the one who's actually the schemer? What if I've picked the wrong side?
But the Demon Buddha soon shook his head. He had to find more strength at a time like this. Emitting a golden radiance, he walked forward with vigorous steps. Even though he was confused, pushed back, and even though a crack had formed...
First Young Master, let's hang in there.