Chapter 84: This Is My Regular Spot
Chapter 84: This Is My Regular Spot
I entered Ma Clan Village with my father.
As we walked through the marketplace together, a strange wave of emotion washed over me. There is always a certain thrill that comes with a "first time," no matter how small the occasion.
"How long has it been since you last came to Ma Clan Village?" I asked.
"Quite a while."
Judging by his tone, it had indeed been an age since he had last set foot here.
"It’s nice to get some fresh air, isn't it?"
I wondered what these streets meant to my father.
We moved slowly, taking our time to browse the shops lining the road, observing the peddlers at their stalls and the steady flow of passersby.
It seems some people are simply born with an innate gravity. My father didn't circulate his internal energy or release even a hint of pressure, yet the path ahead of him opened naturally. Without even realizing it, people stepped aside, instinctively avoiding his path rather than blocking him. There was something about him—something far more profound than what the word "presence" could convey.
I stopped in front of a mercery that sold fine silks and clothing.
"Father, since we're out, why don't we get a pair of matching martial arts robes to commemorate the occasion?"
"I already have dozens of robes made by master tailors," he replied flatly.
"But you don't have any that match your son’s, do you? Just one set. Please?"
I stepped into the shop first. My father followed, acting as if he were merely giving in against his better judgment.
The shop was packed with stacks of silk, various fabrics, and finished garments. I hurried to pick out the robes before he could change his mind.
"How about those hanging over there?"
I pointed to robes embroidered with the Heavenly Demon Soul, the symbol of our Cult. Technically, it was a pattern forbidden for common use, but since banning it hadn't stopped people from selling it, the Cult had eventually begun to tolerate it as a sort of souvenir.
However, my father pointed elsewhere. "What about those?"
He was looking at a pair of bright white martial arts robes. With plum blossoms embroidered on the sleeves and hems, anyone would mistake the wearer for a member of the Orthodox Faction.
"You want those?" I asked, surprised.
"Didn't you say we should visit the Central Plains for fun sometime? We can't exactly wear our usual attire there, can we?"
"!"
A jolt of genuine shock went through me. He remembered! He actually remembered my offhand comment about visiting the Central Plains together.
"I like them too. We'll take two sets of those."
To my surprise, my father even reached for his purse.
"You said you were buying dinner," he said. "I'll handle the clothes."
"Thank you, Father."
I carefully took the two sets of robes, each neatly wrapped in paper.
There was so much I wanted to say, but I held my tongue. If I started acting too playful, I felt my father might cut through the atmosphere with a sharp remark to hide his awkwardness. For now, the best course of action was simply to savor the moment.
"Where are you buying this meal?"
"Right over there."
I led him toward the Pungryu Tavern.
If I were hosting the Great Heavenly Demon, I should have taken him to the finest inn or the most luxurious pavilion in the region, but I didn't want to. Even the most prestigious places were just the usual haunts of the Demon Lords. I thought a place that held personal meaning for me would be better.
"This is my regular spot," I said as we entered.
Jo Chun-bae greeted us with a wide, practiced smile. "Oh, you've brought a guest I haven't seen before!"
"He's not a guest; he's family."
"This is the first time you've brought family. Right? Wait... family? If you say family, then..."
Startled, Jo Chun-bae scanned my father. Though he couldn't see his face behind the bamboo hat, he sensed an aura that was far from youthful and instinctively took a step back.
He looked at me, his eyes wide with a frantic question.
It’s not him, right? It’s really not him?
I answered with a subtle nod.
Yes, he is exactly who you think he is.
Realizing that the man standing in his humble tavern was the Heavenly Demon himself, Jo Chun-bae turned pale and began to tremble like a leaf in a gale. I couldn't help but enjoy the entertainment.
I ordered the dishes my father had selected. "Now then, please make them delicious."
"Y-yes, right away!"
Jo Chun-bae’s legs wobbled as he retreated toward the kitchen. In his state of sheer shock, he was finally able to hear my Voice Transmission for the first time.
— Just cook naturally. It’s not like my father is going to kill you just because the food tastes bad, right?
Jo Chun-bae stumbled even more violently at the voice in his head before barely managing to duck into the kitchen.
"When was the last time you drank at a tavern like this?" I asked.
"I used to frequent places like this when I was young," my father replied.
"But you haven't been to one since becoming the Cult Leader, have you?"
My father nodded silently.
"Don't you find it stifling?"
"It is fine."
"I suppose it might be even more stifling to walk among the common people. There are people you'd want to kill everywhere you look, yet you can't exactly kill them all."
My father let out a short, dry chuckle as I poured him a drink. He then took the bottle and filled my cup in return. Exchanging drinks felt natural now. After all, we were now the kind of father and son who bought matching clothes.
"Your internal energy has increased significantly," he noted. "Where did you obtain such a boost?"
"I received a Blood God Pill from the Pungcheon Cult Leader."
My father looked surprised by my blunt honesty. "He gave you that? That greedy old man?"
"I suppose everyone finds me pitiable. Whenever they see me, they're so eager to hand over elixirs."
"As if."
My father took a drink, and I emptied my cup as well. He looked like he had much to say, but in the end, he only offered a brief warning.
"As long as you didn't let yourself get ripped off, it's fine."
"Don't worry. I take after you, Father—I'm quite greedy when it comes to martial arts."
Soon, the food arrived.
Jo Chun-bae was usually a man who flew through the tavern. He had the skill to navigate a crowded room with both hands full of dishes without spilling a single drop. Even if wine was slick on the floor, he never slipped; he moved with the grace of a master using Water-Treading Steps.
But today’s Jo Chun-bae was different. He crept forward, walking as if he were treading on thin ice, terrified that the arrangement of the garnish might be disturbed. It was the first time I had ever seen him serve food with such agonizing caution.
"I thought an assassin was approaching," I teased.
At my jab, Jo Chun-bae gave me a desperate look that begged me to stop talking to him. He politely set down the dishes.
"Please call me whenever you need anything else!"
Then, looking like he was about to suffocate, he retreated to the first floor. He didn't even dare stand on the stairs to eavesdrop on the evaluation. If he were caught spying on the Heavenly Demon, even ten necks wouldn't be enough to spare his life.
My father tasted the food and nodded. "The taste is not bad."
"Tell the owner that directly later. He'll be truly delighted."
"Nonsense."
"That 'nonsense' might become a lifelong memory and a source of pride for him. If you don't say it, he'll never know."
My father simply continued to use his chopsticks in silence. Then, he suddenly asked, "Why did you shake up the Pungcheon Cult Leader like that? Tell me that much."
Normally, I should have answered: 'It was to obtain the sacred relic at first, and later to win over the man.'
But I gave an answer more befitting a successor. "I did it to detach the Pungcheon Cult from the Eight Demon Lords."
"And? Were you successful?"
"For now, it seems so."
"What did you promise him in return?"
"I want to open a branch for the Pungcheon Cult in the Central Plains. Even a very small one."
"Impossible!"
"Why not?"
My father gave an unexpected answer. "Do you know why I oppose them entering the Central Plains?"
"Is it not because of the bloody history between the Blood Cult and our own?"
My father shook his head. "What does the past matter? It is not because of that."
"Then is it because they joined hands with the Eight Demon Lords?"
"I deliberately allowed them to join hands," he said, revealing a truth that would have sent shockwaves through the Demon Lords. "Whether I strike the Pungcheon Cult or the Eight Demon Lords... if they are intertwined, it is easier to create a pretext for a purge."
As expected, my father felt no fear toward either faction.
"Then why do you oppose it?"
"The time is not yet right. Leave it at that."
The phrase 'the time is not yet right' resonated deeply within me.
I could guess his intentions. The Pungcheon Cult’s advance into the Central Plains held massive political weight, not just for us, but for the Murim Alliance and the Unorthodox Path Alliance. Particularly for the Murim Alliance, which still bore the scars of the Blood Cult's ancient invasion; if they framed the Pungcheon Cult's entry as the resurrection of the Blood Cult, it would trigger a total war.
To say the time was not yet right was, in other words, saying that he would be the one to decide when the world was ready for that storm.
Father, do you dream of the Unification of the Murim deep in your heart?
In my past life, because of Hwa Mu-gi, that dream was never realized. But given my father's true capabilities, it was entirely possible. The Blood Heaven Blade Demon calls me a Crouching Dragon, but perhaps the real Crouching Dragon has been sitting on the throne all along...
I felt the urge to probe further, but I held back. I didn't want to ruin this rare, pleasant occasion. There would be plenty of opportunities to uncover his secrets later.
"I understand. I will handle that matter on my own."
"How?"
"Since I've become personally involved with the Pungcheon Cult Leader, I will resolve it personally."
"Personally? That is the most difficult path."
"But it will also be the most effective. Don't worry, I won't be so arrogant as to think I can fully know another's heart. I won't be greedy enough to try and win everyone over, nor will I ever trust blindly."
That was only half-true. I didn't want to live a life of pure suspicion. What would be the point of becoming the Heavenly Demon if I had to doubt everyone around me? I might not know every person's heart, but I would strive to understand them. I might not win everyone over, but I would win enough to ensure we didn't treat each other with lies and hypocrisy. And I still intended to trust those who proved worthy of it.
"Please leave the matter of the Pungcheon Cult Leader to me. I will handle it well."
My father nodded and stood up. "The meal was good. Come to play Go next month."
"Yes! You'd better sharpen your stones well!"
As my father reached out his hand, one of the two sets of robes I had placed beside me flew into his grasp via telekinesis. Holding it, he headed down to the first floor.
More than buying the robes together, more than him paying for them, seeing him take the robes himself without me having to offer them was what truly moved me.
And Jo Chun-bae provided the finishing touch to the day. As my father passed the counter, Jo Chun-bae bowed so deeply his forehead nearly touched the floor.
"It was an honor to serve you!"
My father, who was about to walk out, stopped in his tracks. "The food was decent."
Leaving behind a gasping, overwhelmed Jo Chun-bae, my father stepped outside.
After a moment of stunned silence, Jo Chun-bae belatedly shouted, "Yes! Thank you! Please visit again!"
My father was already walking into the distance.
Only then did the tension finally break. Jo Chun-bae sat down with a heavy sigh of relief. He pulled out a bottle of liquor hidden under the counter and took a long, desperate swig. He was a man who never drank while working unless it was something extraordinary, but today had gone far beyond that.
Leaning against the second-floor railing, I looked down at him. "How do you feel?"
"I can die now with no regrets," he wheezed. "Even if I were born again, I'd live as the owner of the Pungryu Tavern."
"If you're born again, you should try being a hero of the Murim."
"I don't want that. I'm satisfied with this life, watching over someone like you, Young Master. Serving delicious food is enough for me."
"Couldn't you live this kind of life even if you became a master?"
"Then I'd be even more miserable. I'd have to hold myself back even though I had the power, wouldn't I?"
"I see."
Watching the rare sight of Jo Chun-bae drinking, I looked out of the tavern. In the distance, I could see my father's back as he walked slowly through the crowd. Who would ever know? That they had just passed by the Heavenly Demon himself.
Before my regression, I didn't look closely.
I didn't look at my father's back, or at Jo Chun-bae smiling happily with a flushed face, or at the people walking busily toward their own small lives. I didn't look into their eyes or listen to their words to see with what hearts they lived. Because I didn't look, I didn't know. And because I didn't know, I couldn't win.
Yes, I didn't lose to Hwa Mu-gi. I lost to my own life. To my own indifference.
"Young Master, would you like more wine?" Jo Chun-bae asked from below.
"No. I have people I need to see today."
Leaving the Pungryu Tavern, I walked the same path my father had taken and returned to the Cult.