Chapter 242: If Not an Opportunity Like This, Then When?
Chapter 242: If Not an Opportunity Like This, Then When?
First Young Master Geom Mu-yang stood alone at the precipice of Daecheon Mountain.
In the far distance, the sprawling architecture of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult looked like tiny specks of dust.
Mu-yang reached out his hand. If he gripped the air just right, the entire Cult seemed small enough to fit within his palm. He unfurled the empty fist he had clenched, recalling words Geom Mu-geuk had once said to him.
— You say there’s no room for coexistence between brothers in a power struggle? That we’ll eventually end up killing each other? Who decided that? Why should we be swayed by the precedents and suspicions of pathetic fools who couldn't control their own desires? Don't even dream of being swayed. If you ever feel the anxiety that I might kill you, come find me.
If that were the case, he should have sought his brother out at least ten times by now. Lately, he had been plagued by frequent nightmares. In every dream, Geom Mu-geuk killed him with a smile.
— You’re so naive, Brother. Did you really believe everything I said? Well, I suppose that’s why you’re in this mess. Did you think power could be shared? Especially the greatest power in the Murim? I’m grateful you’re so naive, but honestly, it’s pathetic. Truly pathetic.
He would wake from those dreams cursing the boy. He spat out every insult imaginable, yet he was the one who lost every time. And Mu-yang knew—those words Mu-geuk uttered in his dreams were ultimately his own thoughts.
Mu-yang had been living a frantic life lately.
He handled the Cult’s internal affairs, met with demonic practitioners of various ranks, and traveled to manage external matters. He worked so hard he had even begun cutting back on sleep.
However, he couldn't keep up with Geom Mu-geuk’s relentless momentum.
One moment, Mu-geuk was the disciple of the Fist Demon; the next, he was wandering the Thousand Poison Forest in search of venomous insects; and before he knew it, Mu-geuk had left the Cult with the Extreme Evil Smiling Demon. And then...
Mu-yang was not the kind of person who could bark in the training grounds, nor was he the kind of person who could run until the brink of death with the Smiling Demon on his back.
Waaaaaaaah!
The cheers of the people for Geom Mu-geuk seemed to echo in his ears. He didn't want to be a petty, narrow-minded man, but this maddening jealousy was becoming impossible to suppress.
Just as he felt like letting out a scream, the Demon Buddha arrived. Despite his short stature, his golden radiance remained unchanged.
“Did you call for me?”
“Welcome.”
The Demon Buddha stood beside him at the cliff’s edge.
“The Extreme Evil Smiling Demon has awakened.”
“I heard.”
Mu-yang’s voice was dry. The Demon Buddha could tell his mood was foul. It was only natural, considering the Demon Lords were turning toward Geom Mu-geuk one by one.
The Demon Buddha understood Mu-yang’s feelings better than anyone.
“The Fist Demon still supports the First Young Master.”
The corner of Mu-yang’s mouth curled up slightly.
“Even though his disciple is Mu-geuk?”
He judged that the Fist Demon’s support wouldn't last long.
“The Fist Demon is a man who keeps his public and private lives separate. He won't easily go back on his word,” the Demon Buddha quickly added. “The Poison King will also support you, Young Master.”
“While he’s barking in the training ground with Mu-geuk?”
“That is precisely why the Second Young Master has moved further away from the succession. A man who is to become the Heavenly Demon should not behave that way.”
“Are you saying that while knowing Mu-geuk’s popularity within the Cult has only soared since that day?”
“What matters more than popularity is the Cult Leader’s will. You are the eldest son of the Cult Leader. Since childhood, you have provided the stability and belief that you would be the successor.”
The Demon Buddha tried to give him strength, but Mu-yang asked in a hollow voice, “When I look at us lately, this is what I think: a pessimist and a groundless optimist. Don't you agree?”
“Who is the pessimist?”
At the Demon Buddha’s question, Mu-yang’s expression crumpled slightly.
Mu-yang likely didn't know that the Demon Buddha had been frustrated and disappointed by their relationship so many times that he had nearly fallen into true pessimism himself. He had composed himself time and again to make it this far.
The Demon Buddha asked calmly, “I have never been an optimist, but even if I were, why do you think my optimism is groundless?”
“Then do you truly believe I can become the successor?”
The Demon Buddha stared into Mu-yang’s eyes and answered firmly, “I do.”
“And that’s the problem. Your eyes for judging the political climate are clouded. While we were stagnating and rotting away, Mu-geuk burst forth like a waterfall and flowed out into the sea.”
“No matter how outstanding the Second Young Master’s abilities are, we only need to do one thing well.”
“And what is that?”
The Demon Buddha raised his voice, shouting as if he were calling out from a mountain peak.
“The First Young Master is better suited for the position of Cult Leader!”
His shout echoed several times. When the echoes faded, the Demon Buddha spoke again.
“We only need to convince everyone of that. There is no need to feel wounded or angry because the Second Young Master has won the hearts of the Demon Lords. You only need to achieve that one thing.”
Mu-yang erupted in frustration, his tone rising.
“You are truly frustrating! Do you really think I am better suited for the position of Cult Leader?”
The Demon Buddha spoke with absolute conviction. “Yes, you are better suited.”
“This is exactly why I call it groundless conviction. Didn't you only stay with me because you weren't chosen by Mu-geuk?”
Mu-yang spat out words he should never have said—words that would deeply wound the Demon Buddha—without any filter.
Unexpectedly, the Demon Buddha didn't seem particularly offended. To him, those words sounded like a scream for help. Until now, Mu-yang had always hidden his inner thoughts, making the Demon Buddha wonder what he was truly thinking. But now, he was screaming that he was struggling.
“Those words are truly groundless,” the Demon Buddha replied calmly.
Mu-yang pulled a small medicine bottle from his robes. “Do you know what’s in here?”
“What is it?”
“Formless Poison.”
The Demon Buddha was startled by the name. “Are you saying you intend to kill the Second Young Master with that?”
Mu-yang answered without hesitation, “There’s no reason I couldn't.”
The Demon Buddha stared at him and asked, “Then why bring it out here? Invite the Second Young Master for a drink and spike it! Kill him!”
After lashing out like that, the Demon Buddha softened his tone to comfort him with all his heart.
“You know you cannot do that. The Second Young Master declared he would fight for the succession without shedding blood. If you poison him, no one will follow you. Not the Demon Lords, nor the practitioners beneath them.”
Mu-yang looked down at the bottle and said, “That’s why... I’m considering using it on myself.”
Slap!
Mu-yang’s head snapped to the side.
The Demon Buddha had leaped up and slapped his cheek without mercy. Mu-yang stared at him in shock. He had never dreamed the Demon Buddha would lay a hand on him; the surprise was overwhelming.
The Demon Buddha held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
A cold aura, accompanied by a golden radiance, radiated from the Demon Buddha’s body. It was the first time Mu-yang had seen him this angry.
“Give it to me!”
Overwhelmed by his intensity, Mu-yang handed over the bottle.
The Demon Buddha opened the stopper and poured the contents over the cliff. Then, he threw the bottle away as well. The two remained silent for a long time.
“That... was the first time I’ve been hit.”
“It was also the first time I’ve hit a blood relative of the Cult Leader.”
The Demon Buddha expected the prideful Mu-yang to fly into a rage, but surprisingly, he was calm. Had he been hit when he mentioned killing Mu-geuk, he might have exploded.
“That poison was expensive. What a waste.”
“What’s a waste is the time you spent having such futile thoughts.”
The corner of Mu-yang’s mouth, which had been curled up in a sneer, finally settled. He sat down on the ground. Until now, he had been looking down at the Demon Buddha, but now they were at eye level.
“First Young Master, look at the sky.”
The Demon Buddha looked up. Mu-yang, whose gaze had been fixed only on the distant Cult, also turned his eyes toward the sky.
The Demon Buddha hadn't always been like this. Mu-yang felt it—both he and the Demon Buddha had changed a great deal. Everyone was changing as they became entangled with Geom Mu-geuk.
“You must overcome your anxiety to become the successor. If the Second Young Master is a storm blowing in, then you must become a boulder. Be a boulder that stands firm even in a typhoon.”
Mu-yang’s eyes wavered. This man, the Demon Buddha, was sincere. He was the last Demon Lord remaining by his side.
Come to think of it, the Demon Buddha had been there from the very beginning. He was the Demon Lord who had stayed from the start until the very end.
“I am not a boulder, but merely a pebble being tossed around by the storm. You should go to Mu-geuk as well, Elder! He will appreciate your heart more than I do. He’s a better talker and more considerate than me.”
“That is exactly why I won't. That is my role; why should the Second Young Master do it? As the elder, I should be the one to be considerate and understanding. Just as I am trying to understand you right now.”
Mu-yang felt a lump in his throat. The last time he met Mu-geuk, his brother had said this:
— If you think the Demon Lords are your people just because they smile in front of you, you’re gravely mistaken. In the end, they will choose whatever benefits them most.
He had lived his life with that mindset until now.
“Why did you choose me?”
The wind blew, fluttering their robes.
“I suppose I simply like the First Young Master more than the Second Young Master.”
The Demon Buddha spoke with a joke-like smile, but Mu-yang did not laugh. When his life had been pushed to the very edge of the cliff, someone had been standing there to protect him.
The Demon Buddha, who was barely half the height of an adult man, was standing before him like a giant, blocking his path.
“Well then, I shall head down first.”
The Demon Buddha bid his farewell and turned around.
“Lord Demon Buddha.”
“Yes?”
“Actually, that medicine earlier... it wasn't Formless Poison. It was internal injury medicine made by the Demon Doctor. And I had no intention of drinking it.”
“I know.”
Mu-yang was stunned. “You knew?”
The Demon Buddha pulled an identical bottle from his robes. “Because I have one too.”
“You hit me even though you knew?”
The Demon Buddha gave an awkward smile.
“If not an opportunity like this, when else would I get to hit the First Young Master?”
Without waiting for an answer, the Demon Buddha quickly turned and descended the mountain. Watching his retreating figure, Mu-yang finally let out a disbelieving laugh.
Mu-yang also stood up. Instead of the distant Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, he looked up at the sky.
“...If I keep going like this, I’ll eventually lose.”
He might have lost already. But even so, he couldn't just give up. He decided he would do his best until the very end.
For some reason, he felt like he wouldn't have any nightmares tonight.
*
“Are you going to keep getting on my nerves?”
The Blood Heaven Blade Demon looked up from his book and stared at me. I was pacing back and forth in his room.
“I’m in the middle of a very important dilemma.”
“And I’m asking why you’re having that important dilemma here.”
“Maybe it’s because there are so many books here, but I feel like I’m getting smarter just being in the room.”
“Then go to the Heavenly Demon Library. You’ll become the smartest man in the world.”
“But you aren't there, Elder.”
I slinked over to the Blade Demon.
“You’re the first person I think of when I’m in a crisis. What else can I do?”
“Don't you have that masked fellow you like so much? You two are close enough to share a Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng. Go ask him.”
I struggled to suppress a laugh. This stiff, prickly man occasionally showed bouts of jealousy that didn't suit him at all. The Blade Demon was particularly jealous of the Smiling Demon.
“How could I compare anyone to you, Elder? Tell the Smiling Demon to go stare at a wall back in Villain Valley.”
“That’s not it. You’re just not bothering him so he can spend quality time with the woman he brought.”
“So you know the Heavenly Flower Pavilion Master is here too.”
“Even if I didn't want to know, reports fly in all day long.”
The Blade Demon went back to his book.
“So, go discuss that 'Great Golden Operation' or whatever with the masked fellow or the drunkard.”
I sat down on the floor next to the window where the Blade Demon was reading.
“I came up with a grand name for the operation, but I haven't been able to make any detailed plans. Since you’ve read so many books, shouldn't there be a solution in one of them?”
“You brat, this room is where I come to rest and avoid those nonsensical schemes. Find the answer out there.”
“Fine. I’ll stay here until I find the answer!”
“Who said you could!”
The moment I threw myself onto his bed, an invisible force pushed me back.
“Don't lie on the bed in the clothes you wore outside!”
The Blade Demon used Telekinesis to move me toward the door. I leaned against the window next to the door, lost in thought.
“What exactly is the problem?”
“This operation is difficult because it’s not about blindly making the Demon Buddha my person.”
“And why shouldn't you make him your person?”
There was no way the Blade Demon didn't know the reason.
“Because if I take even the Demon Buddha away, it’ll push my brother too far into a corner.”
I was worried that my brother might make a move he shouldn't out of desperation. However, the Blade Demon was looking at the situation from a different perspective than mine.
“Is that really so?”
“Is it not?”
After a brief pause, the Blade Demon spoke.
“If even the Demon Buddha turns away, wouldn't the First Young Master give up cleanly? I had considered him to be that much of a man.”
“...!”
It seemed I trusted my brother even less than the Blade Demon did. It was likely because of how he had tormented me when we were young. I had a prejudice that he would resort to something vile and petty if pushed into a corner.
But separate from me, a relationship also existed between my brother and the Demon Lords. To the Demon Lords, my brother was a man who knew when to step back.
“You must give the First Young Master a proper chance to admit defeat. The things you’re worried about are more likely to happen when there’s still lingering attachment.”
The Blade Demon, who had been looking down at his book while speaking, looked up to face me.
“When you step on someone, you must do it thoroughly. For the First Young Master’s sake as well.”
I stared at the Blade Demon in silence.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I say this all the time, but I wonder how I’d survive without you, Elder.”
“And as I always say, you’d live just fine sharing Snow Ginseng with that masked fellow.”
“You’re quite persistent.”
“Yes, so worry about the grudge on this side. Why are you worrying about other people’s relationships? How arrogant.”
I bowed politely to the Blade Demon.
“Thank you. Thanks to you, I’ve found the answer.”
The Blade Demon was right. Only when I face him with everything I have will my brother finally be able to laugh hollowly and admit defeat.
Half-hearted consideration would only wound his pride. I would make the Demon Buddha my person, definitively. In doing so, the relationship between my brother and the Demon Buddha would also reach a new stage.
Leaving the Blade Demon’s residence, I immediately headed toward the Demon Buddha’s quarters, which were bustling with Mad Monks.