Chapter 621: Even for the Heartless Demonic Cult
Chapter 621: Even for the Heartless Demonic Cult
The air was thick and stagnant.
Though labeled an interrogation room, it was, in truth, a torture chamber. Shackles and heavy chains dangled from the walls, and on one side, an array of torture implements was laid out on a long table like a macabre display.
What were those iron needles, varying so wildly in thickness, meant to pierce?
There were jagged saws, wicked daggers, and a host of other unsettling tools whose purposes were impossible to guess. Beside the table, a brazier glowed, its branding iron certainly not intended for roasting sweet potatoes.
The moment Gwak Yeong saw them, her entire body began to tremble. It was a primal terror that no amount of willpower could suppress.
She tried to look away, only for her gaze to land on the dark stains marring the floor. Upon closer inspection, she realized they were old bloodstains.
No matter how resilient one’s spirit, it was nearly impossible to remain composed in such an atmosphere. She couldn't shake the horrifying thought that she might be tortured to death and buried in the backyard like a stray dog.
But soon, she delivered a sharp slap to her own cheeks.
“Get it together, Gwak Yeong! This is the path you chose.”
On the day she first met that man, she could have escaped through the White Dragon Unit Leader. She hadn't fled then, nor had she informed the authorities. Returning to the pavilion to seek him out again had been her choice alone—a decision reached after a long, sleepless night.
Why had she done it?
When she had looked back while walking away with the White Dragon Unit Leader, the man had been watching her. His gaze had been flat and indifferent, betraying no emotion whatsoever.
Perhaps it was that very lack of expression that drew her in. In a situation where he could have easily shown annoyance or rage, he remained a void. Had he been furious or mocking, it would have felt easier to handle.
Creeeeeak.
The groan of the iron door made her jump. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
As the heavy door swung open, two figures stepped inside. A flicker of disappointment crossed her face. She had hoped it would be him, but the men entering were Branch Leader Ho-myeong and his subordinate.
“If you cooperate, this won't take long,” Ho-myeong said coldly.
Gwak Yeong made a firm request. “Please call the man from earlier.”
“He is a person of high standing.”
“Then call that high-standing person. I will only speak to him.”
Gwak Yeong felt it instinctively: she must not speak to these men. What would happen if she revealed everything now? They would take the information and kill her. They were demonic cultists, after all; they were more than capable of such ruthlessness.
She had to stake her fate on the man from before, not these two. She needed a promise from the one truly in charge.
However, Ho-myeong ignored her. He pulled a small vial from his robes and placed it on the table.
“Drink it.”
“What is this?”
“Truth serum.”
Though she wasn't a martial artist, she worked for the Murim Alliance and had heard the dark rumors surrounding this concoction.
“I’ve heard that those who resist it until the end either die from the side effects or end up as mindless husks.”
Ho-myeong nodded. “There are many side effects. Sometimes, even those who speak freely die from sheer bad luck. And as you said, the effects are far more devastating for those who refuse to reveal the truth.”
“Not many people have the willpower to resist it.”
“You’re looking at one right now.”
Gwak Yeong wasn't bluffing. She truly intended to keep her mouth shut around these men, and she trusted her own resolve. That was why she was genuinely terrified of dying from the serum's backlash.
“You don’t want me dead either, do you?” Gwak Yeong tried to mask her fear with a bold front. “So, please. Call him.”
Of course, her bravado didn't work on Ho-myeong. He could have easily suppressed her demonic acupoints and forced the liquid down her throat, but he chose a different path.
At his signal, the subordinate lit the brazier and placed the branding iron into the coals.
Sssssss.
A moment later, the iron glowed a dull, angry red.
“Don’t think you can scare me with fire,” she spat. “I’ve helped out at the iron workshop since I was a child. I’m not afraid of heat. It’s practically my friend.”
“It hurts more when you’re betrayed by a friend.”
At Ho-myeong’s silent command, the subordinate picked up the branding iron and approached her. He brought the searing metal toward her face. The face was the most effective place to instill terror—especially in a woman.
But Gwak Yeong did not close her eyes. She didn't scream. She stared directly at the approaching iron, her eyes wide and her teeth clenched.
Just before the iron touched her skin—
“Wait.”
A voice drifted from behind. Fortunately, the iron stopped before it could sear her flesh.
Standing at the open door was Geom Mu-yang.
As he entered, the subordinate holding the iron retreated, leaving only Ho-myeong behind. Geom Mu-yang walked over and stood before her.
“Why did you ask for me?”
Geom Mu-yang had been listening from outside. He could sense it: no amount of torture would extract the words he wanted from her. With that level of resolve, she truly would die from the truth serum’s side effects, just as she claimed.
“I told you in the carriage. I’ve staked my life and my fate on you.”
Geom Mu-yang’s reaction remained icy. “What do you even know about me?”
“I told you—I trust my instincts.”
Geom Mu-yang looked at the truth serum on the table. “Drink it.”
Gwak Yeong looked down at the vial with trembling eyes, then picked it up. She uncorked it and, staring straight into Geom Mu-yang’s eyes, downed the entire thing.
After a moment, her face flushed a deep crimson as the drug took hold. The interrogation began in earnest.
“Why did you approach me?”
He couldn't rule out the possibility that she had targeted him intentionally.
“You were the one who approached me,” she answered, her voice languid, as if she had just woken from a deep sleep. “You came to my table, didn't you?”
“Were you not ordered to approach me?”
“I wasn't.”
“Then why did you come back to the pavilion the next day?”
Gwak Yeong’s pupils were unfocused and hazy. “I thought you might be able to help me.”
“Why?”
“It was a feeling. I felt... relieved that it was you who came to catch me.” Gwak Yeong frowned slightly. “Is this what truth serum feels like? I’m dizzy... and my stomach is churning.”
Normally, one would answer in a semi-conscious state. The fact that she was aware she had taken it meant her mental strength was extraordinary. In this situation, that wasn't necessarily a good sign.
Geom Mu-yang looked down at her in silence. Gwak Yeong gave a silly, drug-induced grin and said something completely unexpected.
“You’re very handsome.”
Geom Mu-yang snorted, looking incredulous.
“Don’t just ask me questions; I want to ask one too. This scar... is it very ugly?”
She was losing her grip on reality, blurting out whatever drifted through her subconscious.
“Don’t laugh at me. This is my wound of honor. Do you know how scared I was back then? Do you?”
Drip.
Blood began to flow from her nose.
“Oh? I’m bleeding. I didn't lie, but I’m bleeding.”
Ho-myeong spoke quickly. “The side effects are starting to manifest.”
“Give her the antidote.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ho-myeong administered the medicine designed to neutralize the serum. After a while, Gwak Yeong regained her senses.
“What happened?”
“The side effects appeared, so we gave you the antidote.”
Relief washed over her at the thought that she had narrowly escaped death. “Thank you.”
“It’s not over yet.”
“No, it is over. It was already over the moment I went looking for you the next day. All that’s left is whether or not you’ll make a promise to me.”
“What promise?”
In the carriage, she had asked for one promise in exchange for not firing the Charge.
“Please save him.”
He had naturally assumed she meant herself.
“Please save my younger brother.”
Only then did Geom Mu-yang understand. Why she had made the counterfeit hidden weapons. Why she had sought him out and tried so hard to strike an absurd deal. She hadn't been trying to save herself.
“My brother is being held hostage by them,” she said, clenching her fists tight. “My parents are gone; my brother is the only family I have left. There isn't a kinder soul in this world than that boy.”
A natural question arose. “Why didn't you inform the Murim Alliance?”
If she was an artisan of the Alliance’s iron workshop, they would have mobilized to save her brother.
“They told me they have people on their side in high positions within the Murim Alliance. They said no matter how secretly I reported it, they would find out first.”
“And you believed that?”
She seemed too intelligent to be easily fooled. Then, she said something shocking.
“I had no choice but to believe it. Because the place where they told me that was my own quarters in the Inner Court of the Murim Alliance.”
For an outsider to freely enter and exit the Inner Court meant that, just as they claimed, someone high up was involved.
“They said if I made it just once, they would release my brother and never look for us again.” She let out a sigh of bitter regret. “They broke their promise. How stupid of me! It was a promise they never intended to keep.”
The fact that they hadn't released her brother meant they intended to force her to make more weapons.
“You ask why I staked my fate on you? Because I can't keep being dragged along by them. Even if I did, they would eventually kill my brother anyway. I became certain of that when I saw them break their promise this time.”
Geom Mu-yang nodded slightly, acknowledging her judgment.
“You can use me, or you can kill me. You can sear me with that iron or feed me ten more bottles of truth serum. I’ll tell you everything I know. In exchange, please... you must save my brother.”
She didn't hide her emotions. She felt that being honest was better than trying to play petty tricks on this man.
“I should be negotiating with you using the information I have, but you people are so terrifying I can't do it.”
Geom Mu-yang didn't answer. Gwak Yeong pleaded again.
“They say the Demonic Cult is heartless, but surely you have siblings too? If you do, you must understand how I feel.”
Geom Mu-yang, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke. “I am someone who once wished my younger brother was dead.”
Gwak Yeong flinched. “Please... pretend I didn't say that.”
She tried a different plea. “Then I’ll work for you for the rest of my life. I’ll make whatever you want. I don’t know how high your rank is, but if you take me in, you’ll surely be promoted.”
Ho-myeong, who was watching, let out a silent chuckle.
“My career is over anyway. I’ve tarnished the honor of the Murim Alliance’s iron workshop; how could I continue to live as an artisan there? I’ll make things for you. You saw it, didn't you? That small Charge? I made that myself. I’ll make anything you want.”
Still, Geom Mu-yang said nothing. Finally, Gwak Yeong snapped.
“You heartless man! When someone begs this much, you could at least give an empty promise!”
Geom Mu-yang said bluntly, “I do not make promises I do not intend to keep.”
Yes, it was because she felt he was this kind of man that she had taken the gamble.
“If you don’t help me, I’ll die and become a ghost and haunt your dreams every single night!” She tried threats, then appealed to his goodwill. Appealing to the goodwill of a demonic cultist... “If you’re not the type to help others, just try it once in your life. Who knows? Maybe when you fall into hell, King Yama will forgive you because of that one good deed.”
But Geom Mu-yang remained unmoved. She realized this impregnable fortress would not crumble under her pleas.
Right, I was crazy. A demonic cultist is just a demonic cultist. What 'instinct' was I talking about?
She stared down at the back of her hand in silence.
“Do you know what really makes me angry? The fact that all of this happened because of my own hard work. All those nights I spent alone, hammering away instead of sleeping... that effort ended up being the very thing that killed my brother. I’m so resentful. It’s unfair.”
She had endured the threat of a red-hot iron to her face, but now, for the first time, a single tear fell. The tear traced a hot path over the burn scar on the back of her hand.
I’m sorry. Your big sister is so sorry. Even so, please be born as my brother again in the next life. I won’t be an artisan then. I’m sorry, truly.
It was a misfortune that had struck her life like a natural disaster. But as if to show that the world isn't only filled with such disasters, a low voice spoke.
“I will save your brother.”
Gwak Yeong’s head snapped up. Geom Mu-yang said nothing more. Because of that, Gwak Yeong knew: this man was someone who truly kept his word.
Geom Mu-yang gave an order to Ho-myeong. “Take her full statement regarding those men. Every single detail.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Geom Mu-yang turned and walked toward the iron door. Just before he stepped out, Gwak Yeong shouted a question.
“Why?”
Asking why he was helping might not have been the best move, but she was too curious to stay silent.
Without looking back, Geom Mu-yang left her with an unexpected answer.
“Let’s just say it’s because some good iron came in today.”