Chapter 62: Give Me What You Least Want to Give
Chapter 62: Give Me What You Least Want to Give
It was unexpected.
I hadn't anticipated that the Blood Heaven Blade Demon would ask if I intended to kill him as well.
How should I respond? After a moment of deliberation, I gave my answer.
"My Demonic Path doesn't involve smashing inn tables, nor does it involve killing my friends."
For a moment, the Blood Heaven Blade Demon was speechless. He stared at me with a complex expression for a long while before asking in a low voice, "Am I your friend?"
"Yes."
Even without further elaboration, he knew I didn't mean 'friend' in the conventional sense.
"You asked what I’d do then? I’ll speak my mind plainly. Without walking on eggshells, without over-considering your feelings—I’ll just say it. I’ll tell you exactly what I don't like. I'll tell you that you're becoming a fossil! That you're turning into a bore. I'll ask where all that old charm went and tell you to find it! We’ll put our heads together and find a way to make things work for both of us."
"And if we can't find a way? If I still don't change?"
"If we try and it still doesn't work, then there's nothing to be done. We’ll just have to keep going by chewing on old memories. But if you don't even try? Then we’ll have to have a go at each other. Regardless of who’s wrong or what the grievance is, wouldn't beating the hell out of each other clear the air?"
The Blood Heaven Blade Demon stared at me for a moment, then burst into a thunderous laugh.
"Hahahaha!"
It was the most refreshing laugh I had heard from him since we met. After laughing like that for a good while, he suddenly stopped and looked at me.
"There’s something I said to you before that I need to take back."
"What is it?"
"That my life was filled with nothing but misfortune... it seems that might not be entirely true."
In that moment, I heard it clearly.
The sound of the door to his heart creaking open just a little wider.
I would continue to listen for this sound in the future. Hearing these doors open—frequently, and from many different people—would be the milestones of my growth. It would become a weapon as vital to me as the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.
Hwa Mu-gi, what kind of sounds are you hearing right now?
*
Late that night, after the Blood Heaven Blade Demon had departed, I received an unexpected visitor. To my surprise, it was the Pungcheon Cult Leader.
"What brings you here at such a late hour?" I asked.
"I have something to say to you."
"Please, come in."
"It’s a private matter. Let’s go this way."
The surroundings dimmed and then flared back to life; suddenly, we were in a different space. It was the same demonic art the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord had used many times. He, too, was familiar with this demonic art of the Blood Cult lineage.
The Pungcheon Cult Leader looked at me and asked meaningfully, "Well? Doesn't this technique feel familiar?"
His eyes urged me to be honest, implying he already knew everything.
"It is a technique I am encountering for the first time," I replied.
"Is that so? Didn't you see this space when you fought the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord?"
"I'm not sure what you're talking about."
At that, the Pungcheon Cult Leader’s expression turned cold. "You killed the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord in this space."
"I have no idea what you mean."
I denied it flatly, but he continued with absolute confidence.
"Because he died in the space where the Soul-Seizing Technique was deployed, it looked as though he died from Qi Deviation. You cannot deceive my eyes."
"Do you have any evidence?"
"I have no evidence. I can't even fathom how you did it. But I am certain that it was you who killed him."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because I cannot read you."
I was inwardly surprised. I had never underestimated the Pungcheon Cult Leader, but I hadn't expected him to believe I killed the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord for such a reason. This conviction stemmed from a supreme confidence in his own intuition.
"You killed the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord," he continued. "Since I cannot read you either, I suppose I could die as well."
"I didn't expect someone as wise as you to make such a misjudgment."
He had grasped my nature with startling accuracy.
"I’m not trying to provoke you, so relax. I have no desire to die in a place like this like the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord did."
Furthermore, he wasn't overconfident in his own abilities.
"I'll say it again: you are mistaken."
Ignoring my words, he continued. "There is only one reason the Soul-Seizing evil sorcery didn't work. You must have been initiated into the Nine Calamities Demonic Art."
"If you're so sure, why didn't you tell the other Demon Lords? If you revealed that my father secretly passed the Nine Calamities Demonic Art to me behind their backs, it would cause an uproar. Especially since I heard you are close with the Demon Buddha."
"Where are there friends in the Murim? You meet people as the need arises. I'm sure it's the same for the Demon Buddha."
"Then what is it that you need from me?"
"This matter is a favor from me. I came here today to claim credit, so that you won't forget my goodwill."
The moment I heard this, I understood. Something had gone wrong between the Pungcheon Cult Leader and the Seven Demon Lords. Or perhaps their relationship hadn't been as close as I thought from the beginning.
"Let's get one thing straight," I said. "So far, you haven't actually done me any favors."
"What?"
"It’s not that you won't tell the Seven Demon Lords; it’s that you can't. Because you have no evidence. Are you going to go to them and say, 'I couldn't read the Second Young Master, so he must be the culprit'? Your pride wouldn't allow you to say such a thing."
"I could at least convey my suspicion that it might be you."
"That would actually work in my favor. 'That kid is strong enough to kill the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord? The Cult Leader might have already passed him the Nine Calamities Demonic Art?' They wouldn't be sure since there's no proof, but they wouldn't be able to treat me lightly either. It would help me seize control of the situation. If anything, you've hindered me."
"What?"
The Pungcheon Cult Leader, seemingly not having anticipated this reaction, couldn't find a rebuttal.
"If you offer goodwill, I will gladly accept it," I added. "But offer me real goodwill instead."
Though momentarily pushed back, the Pungcheon Cult Leader did not panic. He knew well the life lesson that one should never make a decision when at a disadvantage.
"Let us meet once more before you leave."
As soon as he finished speaking, the surroundings shifted, and he departed immediately. Watching his retreating back, I smiled. Rather than the scent of a conspiracy, a different thought came to mind.
The Cult Leader himself came crawling to curry favor.
*
In the large, lavishly decorated room provided by the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, there was only the Pungcheon Cult Leader, the sacred relics, and a shackled man.
"What do you think?"
The shackled man, who had been sitting like a stone statue in front of the Sound Thunder Bell, raised his head toward the Pungcheon Cult Leader. Words that no one else would dare imagine came out of his mouth.
"You moron, why are you asking me that?"
Hurling such an insult at the Pungcheon Cult Leader was a crime punishable by being torn limb from limb. However, the Pungcheon Cult Leader merely smiled as if it were a common occurrence and held up one finger.
"You're the only one in this room, so who else would I ask?"
"Ask the Reaper standing behind you. Ask him when you're going to kick the bucket."
The Pungcheon Cult Leader held up a second finger. "I asked, and the Reaper said this: I'll die after you do, so unfortunately, you won't get to see my death."
"I hope you enjoy your long life, you fat pig."
At the man's curse, the Pungcheon Cult Leader laughed pleasantly and held up a third finger. "Only two left!"
The number of times the man could curse or speak informally to the Pungcheon Cult Leader was fixed at five per day.
Of course, it wasn't because the Pungcheon Cult Leader had a twisted fetish for being insulted. The reason he kept the man alive despite his excessive insolence was that he possessed a mind more brilliant than anyone else's. At first, he hadn't known. He hadn't realized this man was so intelligent.
But after spending a long time in the same room, he had come to realize it. The man's true value lay not in his sense of smell, but in his extraordinary judgment. From the day he realized the man was smarter than the Pungcheon Cult's own strategist, the shackled man became the cult's true strategist.
He endured insults to receive advice. The man's advice was almost always accurate and eventually yielded profits. The Pungcheon Cult Leader didn't try to break the man through pain; he knew the shackled man had no great attachment to life and would gladly choose death if pushed too hard.
Though he had no lingering attachment to life, the man did not commit suicide. The Pungcheon Cult Leader had once asked why, but the man never said a word about it.
"Why are you in such a foul mood?"
"Would you be happy if you were me?"
Seeing the Pungcheon Cult Leader hold up a fourth finger, the man grabbed his shackles and shook them. The clanking sound echoed through the room.
The Pungcheon Cult Leader snapped his fingers. The surroundings dimmed and then brightened as the location changed. They were now in a green field. There, the Pungcheon Cult Leader unlocked the man's Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron shackles. The key to the shackles was kept on a chain around the Cult Leader's neck.
As the shackles fell away, the man's expression softened. Now free, the man ran around frantically like a puppy on a snowy day before flopping onto his back to look at the sky. The Pungcheon Cult Leader walked over and looked down at him.
"You pompous Cult Leader, get out of the way! You're blocking the sky!"
"It's a fake sky."
The Pungcheon Cult Leader held up his fifth and final finger. Having used up all five chances, the man's tone shifted to one of politeness.
"Cult Leader, I miss even that fake sky dearly. Please move aside."
His attitude changed in an instant, as if he were acting.
The Pungcheon Cult Leader stepped aside and asked, "I showed goodwill to the Second Young Master as you advised. But he demanded more concrete goodwill."
The man was staring up at the sky. His eyes, visible through his long, disheveled hair, were incredibly clear.
"Will the Second Young Master really become the successor?"
"Didn't you say he killed the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord?"
"I'm certain of it."
"Then who else would become the successor? A young man barely twenty years old cannot kill the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord."
"His skill is indeed remarkable, but..."
"Are you afraid? Afraid the Second Young Master might kill you too?"
If anyone else had said this, their head would have rolled on the spot. But the Pungcheon Cult Leader simply nodded.
"It would be a lie to say I'm not. If he can kill a Demon Lord, who couldn't he kill?"
At some point, the Pungcheon Cult Leader had begun having candid conversations with the shackled man.
"There is another reason you must secure the Second Young Master," the man said.
"What is it?"
"Do you really think the Leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult doesn't know it was the Second Young Master who killed the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord?"
"He knows?"
"He must know. The current Heavenly Demon is an extraordinary man. A man with grand dreams. Why do you think such a man has remained quiet until now?"
"Why is that?"
"Think! Don't just waste food!"
"Wasn't that an insult just now?"
"It was not. I was merely raising my voice."
"Be careful."
"I will. I was simply telling you to think."
"I don't want to. You do the thinking. If I had to think for myself, there would be no reason for you to be alive, would there?"
The man looked at the Pungcheon Cult Leader with a look of blatant annoyance. Still, his words remained polite.
"When an extraordinary person remains silent, it means they are preparing a major move."
"The unification of the Murim?"
"I wouldn't know that far. Regardless, this matter was either ordered by the Heavenly Demon or something he's intentionally ignoring. Among the Eight Demon Lords, the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord was the one the Murim Alliance found most troublesome. Just as the people of the Central Plains fear you, Cult Leader. Yet he allowed his son to kill the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord? This means the Heavenly Demon has decided to replace the Eight Demon Lords one by one. Once he has replaced them with his own loyal subjects, where do you think the Heavenly Demon will strike?"
"Us?"
"The current Heavenly Demon won't go to war with the Murim Alliance with us at his back. He'll either drive us to the front lines as a vanguard or eliminate us before starting the war."
"Damn it!"
"A wind of change is blowing through the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. If you don't feel this wind, you're dead. The Soul-Seizing Demon Lord died because he stayed cooped up in his own little world and failed to feel it. We must decide whether to hide from the wind behind the wall of the Eight Demon Lords, or hide behind the wall that is the Heavenly Demon."
"And you think we should choose the Heavenly Demon?"
"The Heavenly Demon's side will win."
"The reason?"
"Because Geom Wu-jin, that formidable man, would never have started a fight he couldn't win. So, align yourself with the Second Young Master no matter what. First, win his favor by presenting him with a gift."
The Pungcheon Cult Leader nodded. "What should I give him?"
"Give him what you least want to give. Only then will we survive. Now, enough advice!" The man lying on the ground shouted. "Stop disturbing me and leave!"
Since this space was the only place where the man felt truly free, he screamed while staring at the artificial sky.
"Aaaaaaaah!"
Unlike the man who was trying to vent his frustrations, the Pungcheon Cult Leader stood with his hands behind his back, lost in thought. A moment later, having decided what to give, the Pungcheon Cult Leader spoke to the man.
"That's enough!"
The created space began to dissolve. Startled, the man scrambled to his feet and shouted.
"No! Please! Just a little longer! You miserable bastard! I said no!"
Despite his desperate cries, which even broke his own rules, the man's freedom vanished along with the green fields.