Chapter 263: A Meal Cooked by Mother
Chapter 263: A Meal Cooked by Mother
“A branch leader of the Demonic Cult was behind the robbery of the escort caravan?”
As a name that should never have been mentioned surfaced, Geom Mu-geuk’s aura turned ice-cold.
“Branch Leader Yeo promised to handle the aftermath so the matter wouldn't escalate,” Lee Eom stammered.
As the Hunan Branch Leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, Yeo So-gwang was a man with enough local influence to make such a bold promise.
“What evidence do you have of his involvement?”
“There is… no physical evidence. He is not the type to leave a paper trail in these matters. I am the only witness.”
The moment Yeo So-gwang’s name left his lips, Lee Eom knew he had crossed the point of no return. He had to abandon his loyalty to the branch leader if he wanted even a slim chance at survival.
“And if you are merely slandering a branch leader?”
“Then you may take my life.”
Judging by his desperate eyes and frantic tone, the man was telling the truth. In truth, Geom Mu-geuk wasn't particularly shocked. He recalled the Demon Monarch from his life before regression—a man who had treated the Demon Army like a personal tool to amass wealth. If Geom Mu-geuk had been focusing on internal discipline until now, it was finally time to start policing the external branches as well.
“How did you find out about the Hunan First Escort Agency’s caravan?”
“I have a mole among their escort leaders.”
“Who?”
“Yang Dae-nam.”
Once Lee Eom started talking, the secrets poured out of him.
“Let’s start by seeing exactly what was plundered from that caravan.”
“This way, please. Follow me.”
Lee Eom stood up, his movements sluggish. He realized with a jolt of terror that the internal energy in his Dantian had been suppressed.
‘He sealed my meridians without me even noticing.’
Lee Eom realized his opponent’s martial arts far exceeded the realm of any ordinary master. The fact that the man had killed the Blood Hand Sword with a single strike of a chopstick wasn't because the victim had been careless. This man could likely have killed him with nothing more than a wooden toothpick.
‘He is far stronger than even Branch Leader Yeo.’
Skill aside, the man showed no fear of Yeo So-gwang’s name. A branch leader of the Demonic Cult was a figure of immense power; who on earth was this man?
Lee Eom moved a hidden mechanism in the bookshelf, and the wall rotated to reveal a secret vault. Inside were three large chests filled to the brim with gold ornaments.
Upon seeing the stolen wealth, Geom Mu-geuk’s fury toward Lee Eom and Yeo So-gwang intensified. This wasn't a crime of desperation by poor men; it was pure greed. Both men were already wealthy, and Yeo So-gwang, in particular, likely received a fortune in bribes and tributes.
And yet, they had resorted to highway robbery?
Geom Mu-geuk asked calmly, masking his surging anger. “Did the Blood Hand Sword pull this off alone?”
“Escort Leader Yang leaked the route in advance, which made it easy. We dug traps and launched a surprise attack.”
“Cowardly methods for cowardly men.”
Lee Eom, who had been snitching eagerly, shut his mouth and studied Geom Mu-geuk’s expression.
“You already have plenty of money. Why do this?”
“……”
“No answer?”
“Isn't it… the more money, the better?”
“If it’s money you earned yourself, perhaps.”
Lee Eom hung his head, unable to find a retort. Honestly, he wanted to scream. In the Murim, where it was eat or be eaten, wasn't the one who got robbed the fool? Don't you think the same? You hypocritical bastard! But the words died in his throat.
Geom Mu-geuk stepped out of the room and gave a sharp order to Jeok-yeon, who was waiting in the hallway.
“Summon the heads of the local Huangquan Pavilion and Tongcheon Pavilion immediately!”
“Yes, Young Master!”
Lee Eom flinched. Through his dealings with Yeo So-gwang, he knew that the Huangquan Pavilion and Tongcheon Pavilion were the core intelligence and enforcement organizations of the Demonic Cult. To summon their heads so casually?
It was then that Lee Eom’s gaze fell upon Jeok-yeon’s chest. At first, he had only noticed the demonic ghost insignia. But now, he saw the shield surrounding the ghost.
‘Could it be?’
He had caught a glimpse of this symbol once during a high-level meeting.
‘The Heavenly Demon Hall Guard?’
Lee Eom’s gaze shifted back to Geom Mu-geuk in horror.
‘Then this man is… the Young Cult Leader? Gasp!’
Lee Eom’s heart sank. He had messed with the wrong person—the absolute worst person in the world to offend. His legs gave out, and he prostrated himself on the floor, forehead hitting the wood.
“Please spare me! I failed to recognize your noble presence! I deserve death!”
No matter how much he begged, Geom Mu-geuk’s gaze remained cold.
As if to confirm Lee Eom’s fears, the experts from the local Huangquan Pavilion and Tongcheon Pavilion arrived like a whirlwind. Geom Mu-geuk’s handling of the situation was decisive.
First, he explained the incident to the officials. He informed them that since the Hunan Branch Leader was implicated, they couldn't use local branch warriors, necessitating the involvement of the central pavilions.
After the briefing, Geom Mu-geuk gave his first order to the Huangquan Pavilion Special Investigator.
“Return the plundered goods and the Blood Hand Sword’s corpse to the Hunan First Escort Agency. Explain the situation. Tell them to deal with the traitorous escort leader, Yang Dae-nam.”
“Understood.”
Lee Eom watched the process with a pounding heart, only for Geom Mu-geuk to turn his attention back to him.
“And send this man to the Main Cult. Lock him in the dungeon.”
The Demonic Cult’s dungeon? Lee Eom’s vision went dark.
“No! Please, spare my life!”
Geom Mu-geuk asked flatly, “Did you really think you could get away with something this heinous?”
“That’s why I confessed everything! I cooperated!”
“And that’s why I haven't killed you yet, isn't it?”
Lee Eom was speechless. This was a moment where a bribe was needed, but seeing as the goods were being returned, he knew gold wouldn't save him now.
Geom Mu-geuk gave him a choice. “Fine. Choose. Do you want to go to our dungeon? Or should I hand you over to the Hunan First Escort Agency?”
Lee Eom knew both choices ended in a slow, painful death. “Please spare me! I only came up with the plan! I didn't kill anyone!”
“This isn't your first time doing something like this, is it?”
“It is! I swear!”
Lee Eom’s voice trembled, and he couldn't meet Geom Mu-geuk’s eyes. How could it be the first time? He had stood by and watched as the Blood Hand Sword murdered kidnapped cooks. That alone revealed the kind of life he had led.
“In my eyes, you are the most vicious of the three.”
Geom Mu-geuk threw a punch without hesitation.
Thwack! Crack!
Lee Eom’s chest collapsed instantly. He died before he hit the floor.
Rumble!
Everyone present jumped at the thunderous sound that erupted from the strike. It was as if heaven itself had delivered a divine punishment.
Geom Mu-geuk continued his orders as if nothing had happened. “Disband Pungsu Villa. Distribute all the wealth found here to the families of those who were killed.”
“Understood.”
While he cared for the victims, there was a political reason for this as well.
“The Hunan First Escort Agency belongs to the Orthodox Faction, correct?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
In every region, there were areas where the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s influence was absolute, and others where the Murim Alliance or the Unorthodox Path Alliance held sway. Naturally, the further from the Main Headquarters, the more diverse the factions.
Hunan Province was a place where the Cult's prestige was formidable, but it wasn't a monolith. There were many sects that followed the Orthodox path.
“Send word to the Murim Alliance so there are no misunderstandings. Tell them we will handle Yeo So-gwang internally.”
Since the Tongcheon Pavilion frequently interacted with the Murim Alliance, they would handle the diplomacy.
“Manage this village with special care for the time being. This is where my guard’s mother lives.”
Jeok-yeon watched from the side, struck by how Geom Mu-geuk handled the matter with both boldness and meticulousness. The position of Young Cult Leader truly isn't for just anyone, he thought.
Having finished the business, Geom Mu-geuk went to Hwa-sun, who was resting in a guest room.
“It’s all over. Let’s head back now. I’m ready for that meal you promised.”
Hwa-sun felt a wave of relief. She could tell from Geom Mu-geuk’s bright expression that the danger had passed. Her racing heart finally slowed.
“I must cook for you. Of course I must.”
“I told you to speak more comfortably with me, Mother.”
“I cannot do that, Young Master. This is more comfortable for me.”
Even as they stepped outside, the escort warriors formed a protective perimeter around Hwa-sun. When they reached the carriage, Geom Mu-geuk spoke to No. 3 and his mother.
“Only the two of you get in the carriage.”
Hwa-sun looked puzzled.
“I want you to have a quiet chat with your son. It’s been a long time. Now, get in. We’re leaving.”
Geom Mu-geuk climbed onto the driver’s seat. No. 3 tried to protest, but Geom Mu-geuk settled it with three words: “It’s an order.”
The carriage carrying Hwa-sun and No. 3 began the journey back to the village. As they traveled, Hwa-sun’s laughter drifted from inside the carriage. It was the most pleasant sound Geom Mu-geuk had heard since leaving the Cult.
Geom Mu-geuk had no memory of his own mother; she had passed away when he was very young. On days like this, he found himself missing her.
‘Mother, your sons are living well without fighting.’
The fact that he hadn't shed blood with his older brother during the succession battle was a mark of respect for their late mother.
When the carriage arrived at Hwa-sun’s inn, the reality of her safety finally sank in. Geom Mu-geuk treated her with the easy familiarity of a son.
“Mother, we’re hungry!”
Hwa-sun rolled up her sleeves and hurried into the kitchen. Geom Mu-geuk and the escort warriors enjoyed a home-cooked meal filled with a mother’s sincerity for the first time in years. The food was spectacular.
Hwa-sun beamed as she watched her son eating with his colleagues. The scene reminded her of when he was a little boy, bringing his neighborhood friends home to eat.
‘When did he grow up so much?’
The boy had become a sturdy man, sharing a meal with his comrades. Her heart swelled with pride.
Geom Mu-geuk, having finished every grain of rice in his bowl, looked up at her. “I want to take you to the Main Cult just so I can eat your food every day.”
Hwa-sun laughed. Seeing that her son served such a kind superior, she felt she didn't need to worry about him anymore. She brought out more rice and side dishes.
“Young Master, you must have another bowl! I put in extra meat for you.”
Geom Mu-geuk smiled brightly. “I’ll cherish your son more than any of the others!”
She laughed at the joke, and the guards joined in. Hwa-sun was truly grateful. Though she didn't know the details of what happened at the villa, she knew it was resolved because of him.
‘Thank you, Young Master.’
*
Geom Mu-geuk’s group stayed for four more days. Normally, they would have left the next morning, but he wanted to give Hwa-sun and No. 3 time to catch up after three years apart.
No. 3 made up for every missed moment of filial duty. On the third day, he took his mother to a nearby temple. On the way back, they ate delicacies and enjoyed the scenery. When his mother’s legs ached, No. 3 carried her on his back.
When he asked if she wanted to move to Ma Clan Village, she shook her head. She didn't want to be a burden, and she didn't want to leave the home she had known her whole life.
Four days later, the group shared a bittersweet farewell with Hwa-sun and turned the carriage toward the Hunan Branch. During a short break, No. 3 approached Geom Mu-geuk.
“I heard you gave orders to manage my village with special care.”
It seemed Jeok-yeon had let it slip.
“Of course I did. Visit your mother more often from now on. That’s an order, too.”
No. 3 realized then how much he had neglected her under the excuse of being busy. “Thank you so much. I will never forget this grace.”
“Thanks to you, I got to eat my fill of your mother’s cooking. I’m the one who should be grateful.”
When the break ended, Jeok-yeon took the driver’s seat. “I will drive as fast as possible.”
“Let’s go slowly. We’re in no hurry.”
Jeok-yeon looked puzzled. “Shouldn't we get there quickly?”
“Why?”
“If the man realizes his corruption has been exposed, won't he try to flee?”
“There is no chance of that,” Geom Mu-geuk replied. The Huangquan and Tongcheon Pavilions were not sloppy. They would ensure Yeo So-gwang knew nothing until the moment they arrived. “Besides, would he really abandon his position as branch leader over this? Even if he did, that would be a punishment in itself—living the rest of his life in regret. But he won't run.”
Lee Eom had said Yeo So-gwang left no evidence. There was no way he would get spooked and run prematurely.
“They are all filled with greed. They cannot distance themselves from such a lump of avarice.”
And so, the carriage traveled leisurely toward the Hunan Branch of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
*
Yeo So-gwang was looking out the window. He had a comfortable, kind face—he didn't look like a Demonic Cultist at all.
“Is there still no word from Manor Lord Lee?”
His right-hand man, Hwang Pyo, answered, “Not yet.”
He should have received word that the goods had been moved, but there was silence from Pungsu Villa.
“Could the fellow have developed other intentions?”
Yeo So-gwang shook his head firmly. “He isn't the type to pull that off. Besides, the Blood Hand Sword was there. I used that greedy man specifically to prevent any betrayal. Even Lee Eom couldn't handle him.”
“And the Young Cult Leader?”
“He is running later than scheduled.”
“He’s trying to play a game of nerves,” Yeo So-gwang chuckled. “He’s learned the wrong lessons at a young age.”
“Have you heard the rumors? They say the Second Young Master is truly extraordinary.”
“Of course he is.” Yeo So-gwang remained relaxed. “But even so…”
He was just a young man brimming with vigor. No matter how much he tried to hide it, there was an inevitable impetuosity that came with youth. Yeo So-gwang intended to melt that edge away with sweet words and flattery. He would show the boy exactly how he had risen from an ordinary martial artist to a branch leader.
“So, come quickly, Young Cult Leader. I am waiting.”