Chapter 576: A Villain Walks His Path Amidst the Curses
Chapter 576: A Villain Walks His Path Amidst the Curses
His younger brother’s visit was unexpected.
In truth, Yeon Baek-in had been agonizing over how to handle his brother until just moments ago. He had wondered if he could truly entrust the boy to the man who had emerged from the basement, or if he should step in and resolve the matter himself.
Then, Yeon Baek-jin had come to find him first.
"It’s been a while since I’ve been in here."
Yeon Baek-jin scanned the office. It felt awkward to visit his older brother after such a long time.
"Sit."
The two sat across from each other at the guest table. Yeon Baek-in poured cold tea from the kettle into his own cup, then his brother’s.
An awkward silence stretched between them. It was Yeon Baek-jin who broke it first.
"Someone once told me that there are only two ways for martial artists to resolve a conflict: through dialogue or the sword."
Yeon Baek-in toyed with his teacup, his voice level. "So, which did you bring?"
"That depends on your answer, Brother."
Yeon Baek-jin stared intently at him. Honestly, he wanted to scream the questions burning in his mind. It was all your doing, wasn't it? Instructor Im’s death, Pyo-san’s death... Just what on earth are you plotting?
Instead, Yeon Baek-jin forced himself to ask calmly, "Did you know the White Snake Unit had infiltrated the White Dragon Unit?"
He had tried to approach the subject indirectly, but Yeon Baek-in’s response was icy.
"Why the sudden interest in the hall’s affairs? You never cared before."
Yeon Baek-jin’s expression hardened. Why didn't I care about the hall? Even if no one else understood why he had stepped back—why he had pretended to be indifferent—his brother should have been the last person to say that.
"Answer my question first."
"And if I say I did? Is your solution the sword?"
Yeon Baek-jin had hoped for a denial. He had wanted to hear that he had misunderstood everything. But his brother didn't even try to deflect. That irritable reaction could only mean one thing.
"I told you, didn't I?" Yeon Baek-in continued. "Do not involve yourself in the hall’s business ever again."
"How can I not be involved? This is our hall!"
"Ours?"
Seeing his brother’s bewildered reaction, Yeon Baek-jin realized he had been gravely mistaken about one thing. He had assumed his brother felt a sense of guilt toward him—that he appreciated Baek-jin stepping aside to avoid a power struggle over the succession.
But looking at that face now, it was clear his brother merely viewed him as a profligate sibling who had no interest in their legacy.
Ah. Come to think of it, they had never once discussed the matter. He had simply assumed his brother would understand his sacrifice.
"Leave the hall," Yeon Baek-in said.
"What?"
"Leave and go far away. I’ll provide enough money for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life."
After glaring at his brother for a long moment, Yeon Baek-jin asked, "And if I don't? Will you kill me?"
When the expected answer—a dismissal of such a ridiculous notion—didn't come, Yeon Baek-jin’s voice rose.
"Don't be mistaken. This hall doesn't belong to you alone. It contains our father’s lifelong labor and the dreams of countless students!"
Hearing those words, a certain truth crystallized for Yeon Baek-in.
The reason he had been worrying about his brother until a moment ago wasn't because he feared for the boy's life. Rather, he had been worried that the man from the basement might "solve" the problem by letting his brother live.
Yes, he was a man who could not forgive even his own blood if his possessions were touched. He was only a "good person" when things were going his way.
In truth, he had always known. He had known that a day would come when he would have to kill his brother. That thought had been hidden deep within his heart, encased in a block of ice that refused to melt. The ice was transparent; he could always see the intent lurking inside, but he had tried his best to ignore it.
"You’re making my blood boil, Brother," Yeon Baek-jin spat. "Normally, I would have stayed out of it forever. But I will never stand by and watch you ruin the hall our father left behind."
Yeon Baek-jin did not realize that the one whose blood was truly boiling was Yeon Baek-in—and that the ice concealing his murderous intent had completely shattered.
As the two stared at each other in a state of suffocating tension, a new visitor arrived.
It was the Sword King, returning from his lessons. He greeted Yeon Baek-jin warmly.
"Oh, if it isn't Great Hero Yeon!"
Yeon Baek-jin, however, was seeing this face for the first time.
"I’ve taken over as the temporary instructor for the White Dragon Unit," the Sword King explained.
Was there such an instructor in the hall? Baek-jin wondered. There were many instructors, but this man felt different. When Yeon Baek-jin looked back at his brother, Yeon Baek-in was staring down at his teacup in silence.
Without a word of farewell, Yeon Baek-jin walked out of the office. As he reached the door, he glanced back at the Sword King.
Why would a temporary instructor visit my brother’s office? His brother usually only dealt with the Seven Masters. Matters regarding instructors were typically handled by Gi Seok, his right hand.
However, now was not the time to dwell on such things. He left. As he walked, he recalled Geom Mu-geuk’s advice.
Resolve it through dialogue? Dammit!
*
Once Baek-jin was gone, the Sword King took the seat he had vacated. He poured himself a cup and spoke nonchalantly as he drank the cold tea.
"I shall make it so your brother never appears before your eyes again."
Yeon Baek-in flinched, taking the words as a death sentence for his brother. The Sword King then gave a playful smirk.
"Tell me honestly. Did your heart flutter just now?"
Realizing it was one of the Sword King’s dark jokes, Yeon Baek-in turned a displeased gaze toward the window. He wasn't in a position to get angry, and this man was known for speaking his mind without hesitation.
Keeping his gaze averted, Yeon Baek-in changed the subject. "How was the lesson?"
Yeon Baek-in knew this man had come here to find the one called the "Devil." Since he had volunteered to be a White Dragon Unit instructor, that Devil—who was said to be more terrifying than a ghost—must be within that unit.
The Sword King replied with a broad grin, "The lessons are quite enjoyable."
Yeon Baek-in could feel that the man was more excited than he had ever seen him.
"Who is this 'Devil'?"
"You’re better off not knowing. You have enough on your mind as it is."
In truth, Yeon Baek-in’s internal struggle was over. All that remained was how to execute his decision. He expressed his resolve with a single admission:
"……My heart did flutter."
He kept his head bowed, unable to meet the Sword King’s eyes. He knew the man would understand exactly what those words implied.
"You’re trying to have it both ways again," the Sword King’s voice cut through the air. "You want to be the brother who kills his sibling, but you also want to be the brother who still has a shred of conscience."
Stung by the truth, Yeon Baek-in couldn't find a rebuttal. It was true. He wanted to look like someone who was killing his brother out of necessity, not out of greed.
"Lift your head," the Sword King commanded.
Yeon Baek-in raised his head.
"That is worse than being a shameless villain," the Sword King said, draining the rest of his tea and standing up. "Because you’re trying to become a villain while still trying to protect your own heart. A true villain walks his path while being reviled. He stays the course."
*
When Gi Seok entered the office after being summoned, Yeon Baek-in was standing with his back turned, looking out the window.
"Did you call for me?"
Yeon Baek-in continued to stare outside in silence. Gi Seok had served him for a long time; he knew exactly what this silence meant.
"Have you finally made a decision?" Gi Seok asked cautiously.
Yeon Baek-in slowly nodded.
It was the decision Gi Seok had been hoping for. Yeon Baek-jin was the biggest obstacle in their current endeavor. Because of him, Gi Seok’s own subordinate, Pyo-san, had ended up dead.
Now, Yeon Baek-in offered no more agonizing, no more excuses, and no more explanations.
"Send word to the White Snake Unit."
If he was to walk the path of a villain, he would do it properly.
"Tell them to send their best. They must not fail."
*
After leaving the office, the Sword King found Geom Mu-geuk at the training grounds.
The other students had already left, but Mu-geuk was practicing alone. He was barefoot, holding a wooden sword. He was performing the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique, but it was different from what the Sword King had taught him earlier.
Based on the Sword King’s principles, Mu-geuk was performing a newly reinterpreted version of the style.
If the Sword King’s martial arts hid ultimate power within fluidity like water, the version Mu-geuk performed now was a reinterpretation based on the wind.
The wooden sword accelerated. The quiet breeze that rustled the reeds became a gust rushing up a valley, and soon transformed into a typhoon sweeping through the grounds.
The Sword King felt a sense of wild freedom in Mu-geuk’s movements. It was a freedom that blew as it pleased—fluttering softly one moment and swirling into a whirlwind the next.
When Geom Mu-geuk finished the three forms, the Sword King walked toward him.
"Is this an act of rebellion?"
He meant that Mu-geuk hadn't followed his instructions to the letter.
"I learned all of this from you, Instructor."
Mu-geuk was referring to the fact that the Sword King had already reinterpreted the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique when teaching it. Mu-geuk had simply reinterpreted that reinterpretation. He hadn't been surprised by the Sword King's appearance; he had been waiting for him.
"You were waiting to show me, weren't you?"
"Because you’re the only one who would recognize it, Instructor."
Even though they knew each other’s true identities, Geom Mu-geuk treated him as an instructor, and the Sword King treated him as a student. The Sword King’s gaze moved to Mu-geuk’s bare feet.
"Training barefoot feels quite good, doesn't it?"
It wasn't just about feeling the energy of the earth. The sensation of the footwork was so vivid that he could pinpoint his positioning with absolute accuracy.
"Show me the forms you just performed one more time."
Geom Mu-geuk repeated the three forms. After watching, the Sword King held out his hand.
"The wooden sword!"
Geom Mu-geuk flipped the sword and respectfully handed the hilt over, as if it were a legendary blade. Taking it, the Sword King replicated Mu-geuk’s forms exactly.
With just one look, he had made the reinterpreted martial art his own. Reinterpreting a technique, and then reinterpreting it again—it was a feat only possible for those at the pinnacle of mastery.
Then, suddenly, the Sword King lunged.
Swoooosh!
The wooden sword tore through the air. It was the first form of the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique, performed exactly as Mu-geuk had interpreted it. The three forms followed in a heartbeat; the wind became a gust, then a typhoon.
Whoosh!
As the dust settled, the two men stood still. Geom Mu-geuk had dodged every inch of the terrifying attack.
"Ugh, this dreadful dust." The Sword King waved his hand.
Both men acted as if the surprise attack had never happened. Mu-geuk didn't ask why he had been attacked, and the Sword King didn't apologize.
"Yours is better," the Sword King admitted honestly. Mu-geuk’s version had a higher level of completion.
At that, Geom Mu-geuk let out a sigh.
"Why the sigh when I said yours is better?"
"That’s not why I sighed."
"Then why?"
"I have a habit of sighing whenever I see someone cooler than me."
He said it like a joke, but he was sincere. A man of the Sword King’s stature wouldn't easily admit his own shortcomings. Yet, the Sword King had admitted his lack of perfection without a moment’s hesitation.
"Why the sudden flattery?"
"Well, I am a shield, after all."
He meant it was because he had someone to protect.
"Since I’ve started, I’ll finish the flattery. The reason mine is better is because I reinterpreted it based on something far more magnificent."
The Sword King’s gaze deepened. "I think I’m starting to understand."
He didn't elaborate, but Geom Mu-geuk could guess. The Sword King was beginning to see why the organization’s plans were constantly thwarted by the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult.
"If you’re a shield," the Sword King asked, "what are you doing here instead of looking after the woman you need to protect?"
"Even a shield needs some rest. Now that I’ve tried it, being a shield isn't for everyone."
Even playing the role of a shield through words was exhausting. Mu-geuk felt it once again—how hard it must have been for Lee An, for Uncle Hwi, and for his own guards.
"Being a shield doesn't suit the aptitude of someone with as many worries as me."
Then, the Sword King asked directly, "That woman, Lee An—what is your relationship with her?"
"She is like my very heart."
The Sword King was puzzled by the blunt honesty. "Is it alright to speak so openly about such a major weakness?"
"She isn't my weakness; she is my enemies' weakness."
"What does that mean?"
"Because if they touch her, they will die the most miserable death in the world by my hand. Therefore, she is a weakness that distracts my enemies—a weakness that forces them to suppress their desire to touch her until the very end."
The Sword King let out a loud, hearty laugh. "That was a refreshing bit of sophistry."
The Sword King began walking away. Looking at the shoes dangling from the man’s waist, Geom Mu-geuk asked, "Why don't you kill me?"
It was clear the man had revealed himself as an instructor specifically to kill him. "Why are you delaying it?"
The Sword King stopped and looked up at the sky, as if searching for the answer in the clouds. Geom Mu-geuk looked up with him. They stood in silence for a long time.
"What did you ask?" the Sword King finally said.
"Why aren't you killing me?"
"It’s been a while since I’ve had some fresh air." The Sword King began trudging away again. "And there are far too many boring bastards in this Murim."