Chapter 12
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Solitary Bamboo Forest (2)
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Two days passed.
“Young Master.”
“……”
“I’ve brought some water.”
As expected, there was no reply.
Ma Dongpil sighed inwardly.
‘Did he suffer some kind of shock?’
Two days ago, after entering his residence in the Solitary Bamboo Forest, the Third Young Master had refused all food and drink, simply sitting on his bed and staring blankly out the window. It would have been better if he had slept, but he had been wide awake all night.
It wasn't as if he was just sitting there in a daze, though.
He seemed to be contemplating something with a serious expression, but from the perspective of an observer, it was impossible to know what.
‘His body will suffer.’
There was nothing he could do. It wasn't as if he could forcibly lay a hand on the Young Master's esteemed person.
Just as Ma Dongpil, having given up on speaking to him, turned to leave.
“Hm? It’s morning?”
Startled, Ma Dongpil looked at Cheon Hajin.
Cheon Hajin rubbed his face vigorously with both hands as if washing it.
Ma Dongpil immediately dropped to his knees.
“Have you concluded your contemplation?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess. I didn't realize the sun had already risen, though.”
“It has done more than just rise, Young Master. Two days have passed.”
“Two days?!”
“Yes.”
“No wonder, damn, I feel like my stomach’s caved in.”
“My deepest apologies.”
“Why are you guys always so sorry about everything…?”
Having not slept or drunk water for two days, his face was as gaunt as a sick man's.
“Got any water?”
“Yes!”
Ma Dongpil handed him the gourd that was on the table.
Cheon Hajin poured the water from the gourd straight into his mouth.
“Gulp, gulp! Gurgle!”
With a swallowing sound, cold water cascaded into his mouth like a waterfall.
‘Gasp!’
Ma Dongpil’s face turned pale.
He never imagined the young master would down so much cold water like a hero draining a cup of wine. After emptying a whole gourd of cold water in his weakened state, his stomach was bound to be upset.
But…
“Ahhh! That’s refreshing.”
“Y-Young Master!”
“What.”
“……Are you alright?”
Cheon Hajin tilted his head.
“Why wouldn't I be? By the way, the water here tastes great. Could I trouble you for another gourd?”
“O-Of course.”
“Warm it up a little this time. My teeth feel like they’re about to shatter.”
“As you command!”
As soon as he shot off like an arrow, Cheon Hajin flopped onto the bed.
“Mm, right. Now my thoughts are a bit more organized.”
Unlike his relaxed body, his face was terrifyingly stiff.
“I can’t leave.”
The words ‘for now’ were missing, but… well, anyway.
Staring up at the ceiling, he let out a dry laugh.
“Even if I struggle and scream, I can’t leave.”
Things having come to this, all he could do was laugh helplessly.
He was amazed at himself for taking two whole days to sort out such an obvious thought. If he counted from when he first woke up, it had been over a hundred days.
He would not waver anymore. He would not waste time on useless thoughts.
There was no time for that.
‘The Office of the Grand Marshal? The Palace of the Demonic God? It was all meaningless. It was never possible from the start.’
He realized the fundamental reason why he had been unnecessarily anxious, why he had been obsessed with the idea of escaping immediately.
A dream? No.
Prejudice against the Demonic Cult? Even less so.
The real reason he thought he had to flee the moment he learned this body belonged to the Third Young Master of the Divine Cult of the Heavenly Demon.
“……It’s because I was uncomfortable.”
And what produced that discomfort was the subtle sense of foreboding flowing through the air.
‘I realized it too late.’
During his time as the King of Slaughter, he had gained the gift of hyper-awareness.
It wasn't something he had tried to obtain. Facing the threat of death at every moment, he had naturally mastered it—a talent born from the fusion of innate ability and acquired environment.
And by creating a martial art called the Heavenly Net Six Arts, which amplified that hyper-awareness, he became a legend in the world of assassination.
‘Hyper-awareness is not a martial art. Just like what I felt when I met the Cult Leader, this is a sense etched into my very soul.’
Cheon Hajin smiled bitterly.
‘When did I start mistaking it for a martial art?’
If he hadn't made that mistake, he would have been able to see through the essence of the situation much more easily.
“No, maybe it would have been even more confusing. Dammit! Is this ability helpful or not?”
The death a martial artist encounters is different from the death an assassin encounters.
A martial artist fights with swords and spears, but an assassin fights against the ‘moment.’
For that one perfect moment, the assassin endures and concentrates. Whether it takes three days or ten, they see nothing else.
And how well they capture that moment, what level of concentration they can maintain, determines their talent as an assassin.
Cheon Hajin was a genius. At least in assassination, he was a genius whose skill made the title of ‘greatest under heaven’ seem inadequate.
The Righteous Heaven Alliance, despite not managing such a genius properly, threw him into the swamp of death at every turn. At worst, he had gone out on assassination missions three times in a single day.
The assassin who had eliminated more targets than anyone in history.
The assassin who had been in contact with ‘death’ for longer than anyone in history.
Considering the hardships of his life, Cheon Hajin's hyper-awareness was an ability he truly deserved to have.
And now.
Cheon Hajin, who had not properly realized who he was, had completely reclaimed his identity as the King of Slaughter.
“Whatever the case, leaving here is the right move. But it's impossible right now.”
Perceive the essence, understand the situation.
“In that case, I have no choice but to live as Seo Ryang, the Third Young Master of the Demonic Cult, for the time being.”
Accept reality, plan for the future.
“Of the desires of the Third Young Master and the desires for my own future, what overlaps?”
Cross-verification, and…
“I need to get stronger.”
Conclusion reached.
Cheon Hajin's eyes gleamed.
“I have to get stronger. Getting stronger is the priority, above all else.”
A world where the weak are eliminated.
And the Divine Cult of the Heavenly Demon was a group that, championing the rule of the strong, adhered to the law of the jungle more thoroughly than any other power in the martial world.
Since passively waiting to be weeded out and kicked out was never an option, he absolutely had to become stronger if he was to survive here as Seo Ryang.
The same was true for Cheon Hajin's future. He intended to leave the martial world, but he didn't want to give up his martial arts. You never knew how things would turn out in this world. For the sake of a safe life, martial arts were necessary.
In the end, come what may, there was only one path for him to walk.
The path of the warrior.
‘No more clever tricks. I will walk out of here proudly, with my own two feet, with my own abilities.’
Just as he solidified his resolve, the door opened and Ma Dongpil entered.
“Young Master, I’ve brought the water.”
“Thanks.”
After draining the moderately lukewarm water, Cheon Hajin spoke.
“Ma.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“From now on, when you address me, call me Master Seo.”
“……Pardon?”
*Swish.*
Cheon Hajin silently looked up at Ma Dongpil.
In that instant, Ma Dongpil felt a chill run down his entire body.
The Third Young Master's gaze was extremely transparent. The ambiguous light in his eyes, as if he were both human and ghost, evoked a chilling fear.
Ma Dongpil hastily bowed his head.
“As you command, Master Seo.”
Cheon Hajin nodded.
‘From now on, I am Seo Ryang.’
Until he left this place, until he could be proud of his own life, he would live solely under the name Seo Ryang.
“I'm hungry. Let's eat.”
“I will prepare it at once.”
An hour later, his stomach ravaged by excessive water intake and overeating, Cheon Hajin collapsed from exhaustion amidst a storm of diarrhea.
* * *
His vow to leave proudly with his own abilities grew firmer with time.
On the fifth day after entering the Solitary Bamboo Forest.
“Done!”
Cheon Hajin, no, Seo Ryang, exclaimed with a single shout and clenched his fist.
“My body is completely healed.”
It was perfectly normal, with nothing to add or take away.
Not even a slight internal injury remained, and his entire body's muscles overflowed with vitality. His tattered meridians had healed cleanly, and the functions of his organs were healthier and more vigorous than expected for his age.
The progress of his Unhindered Arts was also encouraging.
‘Fourth Stage!’
The Unhindered Arts had broken through to the Fourth Stage. Thanks to this, the process of expelling the impurities from his body became several times faster, and the purifying ability of the True Cleansing Formula grew much stronger.
‘Finally!’
A look of satisfaction spread across Seo Ryang’s face.
‘Now I have a proper foundation.’
From this point on, the true path of martial arts began. By pouring the enlightenment he gained while living as the King of Slaughter into this talented body, he would be able to become stronger in a short time, even without elixirs.
And…
*Wooooong!!*
Seo Ryang closed his eyes.
A strange resonance rose from deep within his body.
Even without opening his eyes, he could see the world. To be precise, it felt like he could see it.
The chirping of birds, the buzzing of insects, even the writhing of earthworms—he could feel it all vividly.
The Heavenly Net Six Arts.
It was a study that maximized one’s hyper-awareness to open the mind’s eye. With his internal energy still shallow, it was difficult to utilize even a fraction of its power, but being able to use it at all was something.
“Alright! Let’s see if I can fly!”
The Unhindered Arts, the Heavenly Net Six Arts, and the Art of the Dark Shadow.
He was also full of knowledge about various killing techniques and external martial arts, but these three were the fundamental arts that had built the legend of the King of Slaughter.
He could use the Unhindered Arts and the Heavenly Net Six Arts. Now, if he just mastered the Art of the Dark Shadow, which was created by scraping together the secret arts of the Nine Great Sects, he would be able to get stronger in no time.
Seo Ryang, filled with dreams and hopes, joyfully began to recite the incantations for the Art of the Dark Shadow.
A moment later.
“Wait.”
Seo Ryang’s eyes bulged. He had run into an unexpected obstacle.
“The Art of the Dark Shadow… am I allowed to learn this?”
This is the Divine Cult of the Heavenly Demon.
And I’m… no, I’m the Third Young Master, Seo Ryang.
Seo Ryang must have already known some demonic arts. He was probably practicing demonic arts taught to him directly by the Cult Leader.
But I have no idea what they are.
‘Th-This is bullshit!’
Why are you so damn clumsy about everything!
After clutching his head for a moment, Seo Ryang yelled.
“Ma! Maaaa!”
A moment later, Ma Dongpil shot out from somewhere in the bamboo forest like a flash. His body was quite dirty, with his sleeves rolled up as if he had been in the middle of some work.
“You called, Master Seo!”
“I have something to ask.”
“Please, ask your question.”
“About the Cult Leader’s disciples, I mean, me and my martial siblings.”
“Yes.”
Seo Ryang swallowed hard.
“Are there any among them who haven’t learned demonic arts?”
As if he didn't understand the question, a small wrinkle formed on Ma Dongpil’s brow.
“How could that be possible? All of them are training in the powerful demonic arts bestowed upon them by the Cult Leader himself.”
“……”
“Did you not also train in demonic arts, Master Seo, before you fell to qi deviation?”
“I, ah, I know! Of course, I know!”
“Yeees.”
“……”
“……”
“Just suppose.”
“Please, ask your question.”
“What if, just what if.”
Seo Ryang asked in a tense voice.
“What would happen if a disciple of the Cult Leader learned a martial art that wasn't a demonic art?”
“……Pardon?”
Ma Dongpil rarely showed such a reaction. It was clear how dumbfounded he was by the question.
“I do not understand what you mean, Master Seo… My apologies.”
“It’s just as I said! What happens if you don’t learn demonic arts?”
“Th-That is…”
It was something he had never considered before. A demon practitioner who doesn't learn demonic arts? Could you even call them a demon practitioner?
Ma Dongpil stammered.
“I do not think… such a thing could ever happen…”
Seo Ryang was in complete despair. Judging by Ma Dongpil’s reaction, it was clear that such people were considered bastards unworthy of being called demon practitioners.
Fine, honestly, he didn't even care about that. If he got kicked out because of it, that wouldn't be a bad thing either.
The problem was!
“Others may be different, but if the Young Masters and Young Mistresses were not to learn demonic arts, I would dare to… predict that the Cult Leader would be quite displeased.”
“……”
“My apologies.”
Seo Ryang hung his head low.
Ma Dongpil was bewildered. He had no idea why the Young Master was acting this way again.
After some time passed.
“Ma.”
“Yes, Master Seo.”
“Go get me all the demonic art manuals I can borrow with the authority of the Third Young Master.”
Seo Ryang raised his head.
Ma Dongpil, about to open his mouth, flinched in surprise.
From the eyes of Seo Ryang, whose expression was a bizarre mix of laughing and crying, a single tear trickled down.
“……Please hurry.”