Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Recruitment Test
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“Number 370, confirmed. You may enter.”
“Yes.”
Han Baek, with his number tag pinned to his chest, pushed open the door and stepped inside. The expansive drill ground came into view at a glance.
A crowd of people was already gathered there in a chaotic throng.
“So this is the demon troops' drill ground.”
Even with at least a few hundred people packed in, the space felt spacious enough to spare.
The drill ground lay beyond the outer walls and was originally a place reserved for the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's demon cultivators.
But he—and all these many people here now—had been granted special permission to enter for a different reason.
Han Baek swept his gaze from left to right across them.
“These must be all the applicants for the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad.”
There were a lot.
Lots of people, lots of fierce-looking ones, lots of vicious types, and just... a lot.
Moreover, every single one of them was radiating a savage aura, as if daring anyone to come closer.
As he glanced sideways at them, his eyes suddenly widened upon spotting a certain middle-aged man.
“Could that be the Red Head Fist Demon, Chu Yongmyeong?”
The red hood stained with crusted blood all over made it a dead giveaway.
He was a back-alley demon cultivator famous for getting into a trivial spat with some ronin, then charging bare-handed into Ronin Valley and massacring dozens of them.
“And that one's the Azure Gate Four Swords.”
Han Baek's gaze quickly shifted to another woman.
Her face was veiled in white cloth, and she had four daggers strapped to the small of her back.
Gwang Yeonhwa of the Azure Gate Four Swords was the leader of a one-person assassin sect in the Qinghe region—one of the rare few in all of Singang Province.
And beyond them, a lineup of people whose reputations preceded their nicknames filled his vision.
“Whoa.”
To think such remarkable figures had gathered here in droves.
Well, it made sense. This was a major recruitment for the Cult Leader's personal guard, after all.
Han Baek scratched his head and headed toward the wall.
'Better stick to a corner.'
They all looked hot-tempered enough that even eye contact might spark a fight.
He made his way to the wall—right to the shadowy back corner—and leaned against it casually, waiting.
Not long after, an old man settled nearby.
His face was etched with wrinkles and liver spots, and one sleeve dangled empty—he seemed to be missing his left arm.
'The old man's been through a lot.'
To apply for the guard despite the handicap of a missing arm.
Whether it stemmed from pure loyalty to the Cult Leader or a need for coin, Han Baek couldn't help but admire the sheer willpower.
Han Baek slowly approached the old man and asked,
“Are you here alone, sir?”
“...Yes.”
“The test hasn't started yet, so here—have some of this.”
Han Baek pulled a strip of dried horsemeat jerky from his pocket and placed it in the old man's hand.
The man stared down at it for a moment before slowly parting his lips.
“Thank you.”
“Heh, no trouble at all.”
“You here alone too, lad?”
“Yes. I saw the recruitment notice and just had to come. Do you know much about the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad, elder?”
The old man gave a faint nod at Han Baek's question.
“I know of it. At my age, I've heard plenty.”
The Divine Demon Blood Death Squad.
The Heavenly Demon's direct guard, whose lineage traced back to the founding era—a unit that had always charged at the forefront of battle with fearless valor.
Yet thirty years ago, after the previous Cult Leader vanished without a trace, the captain was imprisoned, and the members scattered or slaughtered, vanishing into the dustbin of history—a tragic band.
“I heard they were incredible before disbanding. Supposedly, every member's martial prowess was top-tier, countable on one hand...”
“No. It wasn't the members who were great—it was their captain.”
The old man cut him off firmly.
His tone carried an oddly intimate familiarity, tilting Han Baek's head in puzzlement. The old man turned the question back on him.
“Are you applying out of admiration for the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad, lad?”
“As a man raised in Singang, sure, I admire them. But that's not the only reason. I figured this is a place worth pledging my loyalty to.”
Pure sincerity.
Why slave away for some minor clan with no respect when he could join the guard and serve the Cult Leader properly?
“Tsk tsk! That's a fine mindset.”
The old man bared his teeth in a smile for the first time, then added,
“But be careful. Loyalty without a master leaves nothing behind.”
The old man murmured something cryptic and gazed up at the sky.
He seemed lost in solitary reminiscence, so Han Baek held his tongue.
About half a shichen later,
Boom!
The doors slammed shut after the last applicant entered.
The heavy thud stilled the crowd's fidgeting.
A tense hush fell over them, sensing the start was near.
Then, a man slowly appeared atop the central platform.
“...Huh?”
“What's that? Who is he?”
The sudden stranger drew puzzled murmurs.
But a few elders gasped as if beholding an ancestor returned from the underworld.
As those around them wondered, the man slowly spoke.
His deep, resonant voice boomed across the hall.
“Greetings. I am Ji Wolhon, captain of the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad.”
“...!”
“...!”
“...!”
This time, shock rippled through every soul in the drill ground.
No Heavenly Demon Divine Cult follower could be ignorant of that name, even if they'd never seen his face.
“I-is that really him?”
“I thought he was locked in the Brain Dungeon for life. When did he get out?”
“The Iron Armor Body Demon is back!”
“The Divine Demon Blood Death Squad is truly reviving...!”
Ecstasy lit the applicants' dazed eyes at Ji Wolhon's appearance.
He had become the youngest-ever guard captain in history and shared the squad's final moments—a living legend of the cult.
Beyond his title, his bold fist arts were renowned, and he'd completed countless hellishly difficult missions in the Central Plains without a single failure.
'Of all places, Ji Wolhon shows up here...!'
'This throws off the plan.'
'Gotta report to the young master quick.'
As a few applicants broke into cold sweats of dismay, Ji Wolhon spoke again.
“I am the captain of the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad. I've come here myself to select the new members.”
Ji Wolhon scanned the applicants as a whole.
“But I see some who aren't ready yet.”
“...?”
“To put it simply: we're a guard unit. If you lack the resolve to protect the Cult Leader, leave now.”
Ji Wolhon issued his stern warning, but no one budged.
“Is your resolve true?”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
“Very well. From now on, imagine the Cult Leader stands at your backs.”
With that, Ji Wolhon unleashed a ferocious aura.
The applicants' bodies froze stiff as stone.
In that state, he reared back, cocking his fist over his shoulder.
Whoooosh—!
He unleashed his gripped fist forward in a gale-force punch. Hair whipped in the wind, cheeks quivered.
And half the applicants instinctively dodged or collapsed on the spot.
Observing them, Ji Wolhon commanded in a low voice,
“All who moved just now are eliminated. Leave.”
They were disqualified before the real test even began, vanishing without a chance to protest.
“Now, on to the next phase. Before we start today's exam, we have someone to assist.”
Ji Wolhon stepped aside deferentially.
As puzzlement spread, a young man emerged from behind.
His face gradually emerged from shadow into the light, widening eyes all around.
Realization dawned, and trembling voices escaped lips.
“C-Cul—C-Cul—C-Cult...!”
“Cult Leader?!”
The applicants gaped in panic at Hyeok Mulin's entrance.
Hyeok Mulin, unfazed, looked down at them calmly and spoke.
“More applicants than expected.”
His voice carried evenly to even the farthest ears, tickling them as if whispered nearby—a feat beyond profound inner power.
They couldn't hide their awe.
“The captain already tested your resolve. But resolve alone isn't enough. I—and we—seek comrades we can trust with our backs.”
“...!”
“Remember: this isn't a place to grow. It's a place to prove yourself.”
The crowd swallowed hard at Hyeok Mulin's words.
“Any questions before we begin?”
Silence blanketed the hall.
No one dared respond to the Cult Leader; they only exchanged uneasy glances.
Yet from the dim corner, an old man slowly raised his hand.
All eyes turned to him as Hyeok Mulin granted him the floor.
“Speak.”
“The Divine Demon Blood Death Squad guards the Cult Leader, right?”
“Correct.”
“Then what happens to us if the Cult Leader... disappears?”
Gazes shifted to Hyeok Mulin at the old man's pointed question.
It was valid—thirty years ago had set a tragic precedent.
Hyeok Mulin met the elder's eyes wordlessly.
Deep scars and sorrow lingered in those depths.
After a steady gaze, Hyeok Mulin spoke measuredly.
“That will never happen.”
He declared firmly, then continued clearly.
“Even if this life ends, I will protect you.”
“...!”
The unforeseen answer made the old man's shoulders tremble.
He bowed his head deeply.
Hyeok Mulin addressed the others.
“Any more questions?”
No one spoke.
With that, Hyeok Mulin gave his final warning.
“This test won't be easy. You might even lose your life. Last chance to leave.”
Creeeak—
The doors swung wide open behind him.
Yet not a single applicant headed out.
Admiration, longing, change, ulterior motives, desperation for work—they stayed.
“Good. Let the test begin.”
Thud!
The doors sealed shut with a solemn boom.
Hyeok Mulin extended his hand sideways, and Jang Wi placed an hourglass atop it.
As puzzled stares fixed on the unexpected item, Hyeok Mulin flipped it over and stated flatly,
“Alright, then. Fight each other from now on.”