The Return of the Great Evil (1)
The atmosphere at Dae-jeong-san-jang had sunk into a heavy silence.
The TV screen repeatedly played that day's footage, blurred with mosaics.
Gwon I-tae, the mountain keeper in charge of military affairs, switched off the TV. A few more seconds, and it would have shattered under U Myeong-hwan's palm strike.
U Myeong-hwan was the type who grew eerily calm when his anger peaked, but right now, even that composure had been surpassed. Gwon I-tae could feel his fury bubbling like molten lava.
"Who the hell leaked that footage?"
"We're checking through our Murim Alliance contacts, but the Alliance Leader's faction is directly overseeing this case. It's not easy to dig up."
"Why is the Murim Alliance Leader targeting us?"
"Seems like they want to use this chance to weaken our sect."
"They haven't joined hands with Gangnam-il-mun, have they?"
"We can't rule it out entirely, but as you know, Cheon Myeong-jin and Gangnam-il-mun don't get along."
"They could still team up. How long can a dog and a monkey keep snarling at each other?"
"True, but doesn't Gangnam-il-mun know that without lips, teeth get cold?"
"Seo Tak-hyeon is the type to trip over his own feet dancing like he's all that. Who knows what he'll pull."
Just then, a subordinate's voice came from outside.
"Sect Leader."
"What is it?"
"The Murim Alliance sent registered mail for you."
"Bring it in."
The subordinate entered, handed over the document envelope, and left.
U Myeong-hwan tore it open.
His eyes flashed with killing intent upon seeing the contents. The aura was so thick that Gwon I-tae instinctively circulated his inner energy to shield himself.
Having served him for so long, Gwon I-tae had never seen him this enraged. He didn't even breathe.
U Myeong-hwan handed it to Gwon I-tae, who gasped in shock.
To: U Myeong-hwan, Lord of Dae-jeong-san-jang
You are hereby summoned to appear before the Murim Alliance Tribunal on [date] regarding the Yang Do-hwa incident.
Failure to comply will result in enforcement measures.
"A summons?"
Incredibly, it was a Murim Alliance summons directed at U Myeong-hwan himself.
"Those crazy bastards!"
Gwon I-tae exploded in rage on his behalf.
No matter how big a scandal had rocked the Murim world, sending a summons to the lord of Dae-jeong-san-jang, one of Korea's premier sects, could only be seen as a declaration of war.
"I suspected as much when they first summoned An Dan-ju. They had ulterior motives from the start."
U Myeong-hwan closed his eyes briefly.
"Targeting me from the beginning?"
"Yes. They have evidence to tie down An Dan-ju but are acting like public pressure forced their hand. If that's the case, this is serious. They'll try to pin this whole thing on you, Sect Leader."
U Myeong-hwan's eyes snapped open.
"How can they pin something I didn't order?"
"That's why it's called 'framing'."
Honestly, Gwon I-tae was half-doubting it himself. An Bae-su wouldn't have acted alone on something this huge.
But had U Myeong-hwan really ordered Yang Do-hwa's death? Was he capable of that level of malice?
Then Gwon I-tae's phone buzzed with a message. He checked it and searched the news. As he read the articles and comments, his face hardened.
"What is it?"
"News is out, and public opinion is turning against us."
"How bad?"
"Very bad."
U Myeong-hwan gestured for him to leave.
"Sect Leader, don't worry too much."
"If we hadn't worried when we should have, Dae-jeong-san-jang wouldn't exist today."
"My apologies."
Once Gwon I-tae left, U Myeong-hwan's expression cooled completely, turning icy.
If only war had broken out—he could fight it out.
But dragged along by public opinion, he'd have to comply with the summons. If An Bae-su cracked and confessed, he'd be hit with murder-by-proxy charges.
Murim Alliance penalties were far harsher than civilian law.
With them gunning for him, it'd mean crippled dantian and at least twenty years—practically a death sentence at his age. A lifetime of reputation, gone like smoke.
'Damn that crazy bitch!'
He never imagined things would escalate this far when he ordered An Bae-su to kill her.
'Jang Cheon! That fucking bastard coming back!'
His rage shifted from Jang Cheon to An Bae-su.
'Back then...'
When the summons hit An Bae-su, he should have eliminated him. Heartbreaking, but lieutenants could be rebuilt.
An Bae-su knew too many secrets tying back to him. It could have been a clean slate.
Whether fate conspired or age had dulled him, he hadn't seen it clearly then.
Tormented by regrets, U Myeong-hwan rose.
He had to act; his options were few.
He opened the safe and pulled out an old flip phone.
Staring at it, he hesitated long before pressing and holding shortcut 1.
* * *
Bit Sseum Teo.
The city's largest youth shelter for runaways.
Dozens came and went daily, some heading home.
Not all followed that lucky cycle. Some fled before parents arrived; others were never sought.
They couldn't force anyone to stay—just hope they avoided the worst.
"Couldn't find her?"
"No, she seems to have gone far."
The responder to Director Yang's question was Baek Sang-du, the shelter's all-around handyman.
At twenty-three, his diligence made him popular with staff and the director.
"Don't take it too hard. She looked like a runner from day one."
The runaway was Jeong-hwa, sixteen.
Baek Sang-du sighed.
"She's only just sixteen."
"You know how kids are these days. Sixteen ain't what it used to be."
"More bad people out there too. Police came by last time—said the last kid from here went missing."
Parents showed up late; she'd already bolted, trail gone cold.
"Sang-du, you can't fret over every one, or you'll burn out. Her life's hers. Focus on who's here."
"Got it."
"Head home early today. Rest up."
"Yes, ma'am."
Baek Sang-du shuffled out, shoulders slumped.
Director Yang watched his back, murmuring softly.
"Such a soft-hearted fool."
Baek Sang-du drove his beat-up car to his home an hour away, deep in the mountains.
The shelter was on the outskirts; his cabin was buried in the woods.
A wooden hut by a massive boulder—front yard veggie patch, back wild forest.
Whistling as he stepped out, he shed his shelter persona entirely.
No more good-natured simplicity. His face was cold, chillingly alien to anyone who knew him.
That shift solidified when he popped the trunk.
Inside, a girl lay bound and sedated. Jeong-hwa, the runaway.
He slung her lightly over his shoulder and entered.
The rustic interior fit: worn bed, lone cabinet, walls lined with dusty taxidermied beasts.
He tossed the limp Jeong-hwa onto the bed and placed his palm on her face. Muttering under his breath, a purple aura flickered on her forehead and vanished.
Baek Sang-du pressed his hand to the floor.
Shrrk.
The unassuming boards parted, revealing a hidden compartment.
A small box held vials of colorful liquids—eerie mismatch for the shack.
He uncorked a purple vial matching the aura, inhaling deeply like savoring wine.
Purple mist rose, drawn into his nostrils.
Sated, he roused Jeong-hwa.
She blinked in confusion, scanning around. Realization dawned: kidnapped by the dim-witted shelter guy.
Jeong-hwa screamed.
"Hey! You pervert fuck! Wanna die?"
Baek Sang-du met her eyes.
"No."
His low, flat tone made her flinch.
"And you?"
That sufficed. Words failed her. Crushing terror gripped her. Instinct screamed: danger. Deadly danger.
Like a movie serial killer dropping the mask. This wasn't the shelter's Baek Sang-du.
"You wanna fuck me, right? Let's do it. Truth is, I like you, oppa. Didn't know?"
Desperate survival play. She forced a smile, glancing around.
"Nice place. Was stressing where to crash after the shelter. Can I stay awhile?"
"No."
"Why? 'Cause I'm hot?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"You're free game. No parents hunting you, you not hunting them."
Baek Sang-du grabbed her throat.
"Guh... mercy... I'll be good... from now on."
He took no joy in the kill. Just another chore, like eating or brushing teeth. Utterly routine.
His hand turned purple. As he squeezed, the aura seeped into her.
Hand glows purple, drawing out the victim's innate essence. Body withers as life force is absorbed through every orifice.
"Gaaah... mercy... Mom."
Her body turned purple, even the whites of her eyes. Baek Sang-du gaped wide.
Hiss...
Purple essence poured from every hole.
Human congenital essence—youthful vigor of the young Jeong-hwa. Each person's hue unique.
Matching vial scent primed, he inhaled it through his mouth.
Ecstasy washed over his face.
Soon, Jeong-hwa crumbled like a mummy, essence fully drained.
Baek Sang-du hauled the corpse outside.
He shoved the boulder aside—immovable to any eye, yet slid easily.
A deep pit yawned below. He dropped the body atop countless mummified remains.
Gazing like at trophies, he resealed it.
Then his phone rang.
The caller ID made him start. Rare emotion flickered in his dead eyes.
He answered. A pause, then an old man's voice.
Baek Sang-du said nothing.
U Myeong-hwan's plea came again, now tenfold more shocking with one added word.
"...Help me, Master."