Chapter 184: What Kind of Person the Fist Demon Is
Chapter 184: What Kind of Person the Fist Demon Is
“You seem to be in high spirits.”
At Geom Mu-yang’s remark, the Demon Buddha replied with a thin smile.
“It is because I bring good news.”
The Demon Buddha appeared more vibrant and energetic than usual.
“I do not believe you need to worry about the Fist Demon any longer. He has clearly stated his support for you, Young Master.”
Despite the favorable report, Geom Mu-yang’s expression did not brighten.
“First Young Master, I shall speak to you candidly. I am aware that my recent actions have disappointed you. I tried my best in my own way, but things did not go as planned. For that, I offer my sincerest apologies.”
The Demon Buddha apologized with genuine humility, devoid of any affectation. It was an extension of the emotions he had felt while watching Geom Mu-geuk practice his martial arts earlier.
He had realized that if they continued on their current path, they would never defeat Geom Mu-geuk. Change was necessary, and he had resolved that the change must begin with himself.
“No, I am the one who should apologize.”
From Geom Mu-yang’s reaction, the Demon Buddha could tell: the young man was flustered and suspicious.
Geom Mu-yang was a man who always looked for a hidden motive. He filtered everything he heard through a lens of skepticism. Right now, he was doubting the Demon Buddha’s sincerity.
If it had been yesterday, the Demon Buddha would have been angered by this reaction. He would have dwelled on the crack that had formed between them.
But he did not. He chose to accept it. This was the essence of the man named Geom Mu-yang. If he couldn't stand it, then he was the one who had to leave.
Whether he sensed the Demon Buddha’s inner thoughts or not, Geom Mu-yang spoke calmly.
“When I returned to the Cult, I think I was taken aback because Mu-geuk had grown so much more than I expected. The Mu-geuk I knew was a young wolf, but when I returned, he had become a massive tiger. In my anxiety, I committed several discourtesies toward you, Lord Demon Buddha. I am sorry.”
Geom Mu-yang bowed his head.
The Demon Buddha’s heart softened. This was enough.
He decided to view the crack between them not as a sign of impending ruin, but as a mark of a maturing relationship. It would be a reminder to draw strength from when things felt disappointing or difficult.
“The First Young Master is also a tiger. Do not be afraid; roar to your heart’s content. I shall protect you.”
“Thank you.”
The Demon Buddha was finding his resolve.
Yes, this is how one should approach another. Just as Geom Mu-geuk spoke to him without hesitation, he too had to stride boldly toward Geom Mu-yang. Only then would he have no regrets, regardless of how this struggle ended.
The Demon Buddha’s gaze turned toward the window.
“The moonlight is particularly beautiful tonight.”
However, Geom Mu-yang’s eyes could not appreciate the beauty of the night.
This won't do.
He felt that a version of the Demon Buddha whose eyes grew misty while looking at the moon could never defeat Geom Mu-geuk.
If you truly cared for me, you shouldn't be praising me as a tiger; you should be bringing me a trap to catch the tiger on the other side.
They were in a position where every possible move was insufficient, where they had to mobilize every desperate scheme available, yet here the man was, indulging in such leisure.
It was because the Demon Buddha wasn't as desperate as he was. After all, if the succession battle was lost, Mu-yang was the only one who would die.
Because their hearts were different, the moonlight felt different to each of them. Thus, the moonlight—simultaneously soft and warm, yet cold and lonely—shone down upon the two men.
*
In the training ground bathed in moonlight, I was practicing my fist forms alone.
Through my training so far, I had perfectly mastered even the forms learned by the Red Fists. They had found them difficult, but to me, they felt as simple as the basics. However, because a strong foundation was essential, I had invested all my time into honing the techniques from the very first moment I began practicing.
That was when the Fist Demon walked toward me.
As shadows fell over his face with the moon at his back, the Fist Demon truly looked like a fiend from hell.
“Are you not afraid of me?”
“How could I not be afraid after seeing that face?”
“It’s not just that you aren't afraid; you seem to be taking me lightly.”
“Do you enjoy it when others look at you with fear? It must be something you’ve dealt with your whole life.”
The Fist Demon walked slowly until he was right in front of me.
He thrust his face close to mine. This was the first time I had seen his features from such a short distance. It truly looked as if a demon had been born into the mortal world.
“What do you think, seeing it up close?”
Looking at the Demon Lord’s face, I felt a sensation I hadn't expected.
“You look tired.”
“!”
“Just what is it that makes a Demon Lord of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult so tired? Is it the Iron Fists? Or that cliff? Or is there something else?”
For a moment, the Fist Demon’s eyes trembled. No one had likely ever asked him so point-blank. Not to mention his fellow Demon Lords, even my father didn't treat the Demon Lords so casually.
“You must have coaxed the other Demon Lords this way, but it won't work on me.”
It seemed the comment about him looking tired had touched a nerve.
“As I told you, I didn't expect it to work in the first place. What I want is something else.”
“What is it?”
“Please teach me your fist techniques. Learning them is so much fun. I’m so excited and thrilled that I can’t even sleep.”
I meant it sincerely. Perhaps it was because I had spent my entire life practicing sword arts. Perhaps it was because I had achieved the Twelve-Star Great Achievement of the Flying Heaven Sword Technique. Perhaps it was because I had mastered the Wind God Four Steps. These fist techniques had found me at exactly the right time, like destiny.
“Teach me. I want to fight you, Lord Fist Demon, using the techniques you teach me!”
“!”
“I want to defeat you with those very techniques.”
In an instant, a wave of energy erupted from the Fist Demon’s body. His aura was like a gale—a fierce wind that made your mind go blank with the fear of being blown away, making it impossible to even open your eyes.
The Heavenly Demon Body Protection Art activated naturally, and I raised my Body Protection Qi to withstand the pressure.
At that, the Fist Demon’s aura grew even more powerful. A wind blew that felt as if it would scatter not just my body, but my very soul.
I injected internal energy into my clenched fist and unleashed a single form.
It was the form I had learned during the Red Fists' training: One Fist Covers the Sky.
Pa-ang!
The sound of a refreshing wind burst from the empty air where my fist struck.
I stared into the Fist Demon’s eyes and spoke.
“You have awakened something inside me, Lord Fist Demon.”
Even without me saying it, the Fist Demon would know what that was.
The Fist Demon withdrew the aura he had been using to pressure me and asked, “Why did you only come to find me now?”
The seventh connection among the eight Demon Lords. It was a question he was bound to be curious about.
“Was I not that necessary to you?”
“It’s the opposite.”
“The opposite?”
“I heard that you perform the roles of two Demon Lords. That is why I wanted to see you once I had become a bit stronger.”
“Who said that I perform the roles of two people?”
“My father.”
Father had said that although the number of Demon Lords was four to three, the balance was even. I had confirmed through the Drunken Demon that he had been referring to the Fist Demon.
Father certainly had a significant influence on the Demon Lords. The Fist Demon also showed complex emotions when Father was mentioned.
“I cannot believe the Cult Leader said such a thing. Do not overreach yourself trying to pull me to your side.”
“Go and confirm it for yourself.”
The Fist Demon’s face grew even more terrifying. I could guarantee that if I went out into the Central Plains with that face by my side, every day would be a continuous string of incidents.
Staring at me intimidatingly, he asked, “Are you serious about saying you could become my disciple?”
“I am serious. This is your only chance to become the master of the Heavenly Demon. Do not miss it.”
“What if I intend to manipulate the disciple who becomes the Heavenly Demon as I please?”
Finally, I released my own aura. It was the first time I had revealed my true pressure to the Fist Demon.
The vast, endless blue sky.
Clear water reflecting that sky. The deep sea where one realizes the bottom is invisible only after dipping a foot into what seemed like shallow water. Exuding that suffocating dread, I spoke solemnly.
“Is your Heavenly Demon such a meager person?”
The Fist Demon looked at me with a startled expression.
We stared at each other in silence for a long time. It was the Fist Demon who broke the quiet.
“Show me your hand. Show me that baby hand of yours.”
I reached my hand forward.
“Clench your fist.”
I slowly clenched my fist for him.
A strange light flickered in the Fist Demon’s eyes as he examined it. Indeed, it wasn't a hand one could see easily. For this hand he called a "baby hand" was none other than the hand of the heaven-sent Heavenly Martial Physique.
To become a master, the entire body is important, but the hands are especially so. This is even more true in fist techniques, where one cannot hide the body's weaknesses behind a weapon.
He wrapped his large hand around mine. Hand met hand, exploring each other.
Eventually, the Fist Demon turned and walked away without saying another word about my hand.
“Show up for Black Fist training starting tomorrow.”
*
After leaving the Eastern Fist Sect, I went straight to Villain Valley.
I wanted to ask the Extreme Evil Smiling Demon about the Fist Demon. I had a feeling that the Smiling Demon would know him well.
The Smiling Demon was sitting vacantly in that entirely white room, as always.
His first words upon seeing me were:
“Second Young Master, you want to fight the Fist Demon.”
I was startled.
“Have you mastered a martial art that reads minds? Or have we become so close that we understand each other’s hearts just by looking into each other’s eyes?”
“You are wearing a mask today, are you not?”
“Does wearing a mask mean I want to fight the Fist Demon?”
“Yes. It means you want to fight him.”
I laughed and slid the mask up onto my head.
“What if I come like this?”
“Then you must have come because you wanted to play with me.”
Since I hadn't come to play today, I pulled the mask back down.
“I suppose I could fool a ghost, but I can’t fool you, Lord Smiling Demon.”
I nodded and admitted it honestly.
“Do you crave blood?”
“It seems so. Since I crave blood, I thought of you immediately.”
“I expected you to visit me at least once after hearing the news that you were learning martial arts from the Fist Demon.”
The Extreme Evil Smiling Demon and the Fist Demon were completely different people. Their feel, their atmosphere, their personalities—everything was polar opposites.
However, if someone were asked to categorize the Demon Lords without being given any criteria, I felt that the Smiling Demon and the Fist Demon would end up in the same group.
“Do you know why the Fist Demon supports the First Young Master?”
“Because I was late in seeking him out?”
The Smiling Demon shook his head.
“Because he supports succession by the eldest son?”
“That is likely not it either.”
“Then why does he support my brother?”
Then, an unexpected answer came.
“It is likely because of the Cult Leader.”
“Because of my father?”
“Until you recently began to distinguish yourself, everyone expected the First Young Master to become the successor. Likely, the Cult Leader at the time had also made up his mind that way.”
“Does that mean the Fist Demon is following my father’s will?”
“Correct. He likely believes the Cult Leader wants the First Young Master as the successor. He is unaware that the situation has changed significantly of late.”
“Because he has been focused only on training his subordinates.”
“Exactly. If he learns the fact that the Cult Leader has you in mind, he will change his mind.”
The Drunken Demon had said that Father would like the Fist Demon best, as he was purely obsessed with martial arts. I began to think that the person who liked Father the most might also be the Fist Demon.
The Smiling Demon gave me one last piece of advice regarding the Fist Demon.
“The Fist Demon’s title is 'Undefeated.' He is a man who has never lost. You will find out what kind of person he truly is only when he suffers a defeat.”
I nodded silently. Perhaps I would be the one to hand him that first defeat.
The Smiling Demon read the heat within me.
“Second Young Master, why do you seek to become so strong?”
He knew exactly that my ultimate goal in learning fist techniques from the Fist Demon wasn't just to win over a Demon Lord, but a raw desire to become stronger.
“Are you perhaps dreaming of the Unification of the Murim?”
“No.”
I spoke firmly.
“Do you want to become the World's Greatest Martial Artist?”
“That isn't it either.”
“Then why are you running so breathlessly?”
“Because I have a premonition that a powerful enemy will appear before me someday. A powerful enemy that I can never defeat unless I put in a frantic amount of effort. I suppose I have that kind of anxiety.”
I revealed my honest insecurity to him. Strangely, it was comfortable to reveal such emotions to the Smiling Demon.
Staring at me quietly, the Smiling Demon suddenly unleashed a Finger Wind.
Screeeeeeech.
A long line was carved by the Finger Wind onto the white wall he always looked at. I was shocked. He had drawn a line on the wall I thought he would never allow to be defaced.
“Second Young Master, how far have we come?”
It had been a very long time since he had drawn a line and asked me that. The last time he drew one, I had said I had reached the "survival line."
I drew the Black Demonic Sword and carved a vertical line at the end of his line, far past the survival line I had drawn before.
“I have come this far.”
Though we hadn't spent a vast amount of time together, two life-and-death battles fought back-to-back had led to the drawing of this line.
“Do you remember? When we first met, I told you that I do not become friends with people who wear masks. My principle has changed now. Since I am also wearing a mask, I shall be friends with those who wear them as well.”
The Smiling Demon spoke to me with clear eyes.
“You said it, didn't you? That if we reached that line, we would become friends who eat together, drink together, share joy, and even fight. That we would go to save each other if one fell into danger. And that if one of us died first, the other would pour wine over their grave.”
“That’s right.”
“If that powerful enemy you mentioned appears and you fall into danger…”
After a brief pause, the Smiling Demon added, “I will come to save you.”
“!”
I could tell. The Smiling Demon’s line was drawn in the same place as mine.
Father always says: Do not trust people. That such a heart is a cheap sentimentality fit for the dying. That it is a naive emotion. Even so, I love this moment.
“I shall be waiting for you to save me.”
The Smiling Demon’s eyes shone clearly. No more words were needed.
As I turned to leave, I asked the Smiling Demon with concern, “By the way, is that wall alright? It’s the wall for your training, isn't it?”
He had said he gained more internal energy by training while looking at that white wall. To my worry about what he would do now that it was defaced, the Smiling Demon looked at the white wall on the opposite side and said:
“I didn't like the color of that wall anyway. From today, I shall look at this wall instead.”