Chapter 141
Chapter 141
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 141
Chapter Title: Part 6. He Who Forgot the Past, He Who Cannot Forget (1)
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Cho Yeon-un was frozen stiff.
His face, which always wore a smile, now bore only a rigid one.
“Haha!”
An awkward laugh slipped through his lips. The disheveled-haired middle-aged man standing before him furrowed his brow slightly and spoke.
“Amusing?”
“No.”
With his answer, Cho Yeon-un bowed his head.
Cho Yeon-un feared nothing in the world, save for one man—the one standing before him.
His hair was tied in a wild bun like a magpie’s nest, his rags looked as though they had been worn a hundred times, and the massive sword at his waist was anything but ordinary.
Most striking of all were his eyes, hidden within that tangled mane.
Despite his middle age, they brimmed with vigor and confidence, making him appear far younger.
The man’s name was Jang Il-san.
He was the one who had shaken the jianghu with the grand title of Demon-Slaying Divine Blade.
He was the sect leader of the Hundred Battles Sect, master of the Hundred Battles Unbeaten Banner, and Cho Yeon-un’s own master.
Fearless as Cho Yeon-un was, he could not stand tall before his master, Jang Il-san.
Jang Il-san looked at Cho Yeon-un with a pitying expression. Cho Yeon-un averted his gaze, finding the look burdensome.
“Tch! Fine, let’s hear it. So the Fist Demon is your friend?”
“Yes!”
“The man publicly named an enemy by the Martial Alliance is your friend?”
“Yes!”
“Heh, unbelievable!”
Jang Il-san clicked his tongue at Cho Yeon-un’s brazen reply, his face a mask of exasperation.
“We issued orders to hunt down the Demonic Cult, and here you are, befriending a demon.”
“It just happened that way.”
“You damned fool!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Enough. What’s the point of saying more now that you’re friends? But mark this well: once you’ve given your heart, nurture that bond with all you have. Leave no room for regret.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
A smile tugged at Cho Yeon-un’s lips. Jang Il-san promptly smacked his head with a massive fist.
Thud!
“Ow! Master, what if you damage my brain?”
“Would it get any worse?”
“Urk!”
Cho Yeon-un’s face crumpled like paper.
Jang Il-san snorted at the sight. But the amusement soon vanished from his face.
Only then did Cho Yeon-un drop his playfulness and look at his master.
What had come before was mere reunion banter between master and disciple. Now, it was time for serious talk.
“Things will get busy from here.”
“I know.”
“You have much to do.”
“I’m prepared.”
Jang Il-san’s eyes sharpened.
“The Demonic Cult is strong.”
“Yes!”
“Stronger than you can imagine. Thirty years ago, we drove them back by sheer luck. Don’t count on that fortune holding now.”
A chill laced Jang Il-san’s voice.
As sect leader, he could have rested on his laurels, yet he never wasted a single day, devoting himself to training.
He had always believed the Demonic Cult would return.
“With the Demonic Cult resurfacing, the jianghu will plunge into chaos. Many will die, many more will be hurt.”
“But thirty years ago, we repelled them, didn’t we? We can do it again.”
“That was just luck.”
“What?”
Doubt flickered across Cho Yeon-un’s face.
Jang Il-san had stood at the forefront of the war against the Demonic Cult thirty years prior. He had shed more blood than anyone, slaughtering countless demons.
His blade never knew a dry day, locked in fierce combat every hour.
That was how he earned the title Demon-Slaying Divine Blade.
The sect formed by his followers had become the Hundred Battles Sect.
It was hard to fathom why such a man feared the Demonic Cult so.
Come to think of it, Jang Il-san had always been this way.
He constantly dreaded and guarded against them—sometimes excessively so. Cho Yeon-un had often wondered at it.
For the master he knew needed fear no one.
Jang Il-san gripped Cho Yeon-un’s shoulders with both hands.
“Yeon-un.”
“Yes, Master!”
“You must grow stronger.”
“What?”
“Strong enough to safeguard the Hundred Battles Unbeaten Banner at all costs.”
“Understood.”
Cho Yeon-un nodded vigorously.
Jang Il-san turned away, muttering to himself.
“If only the Four Death Legions would help again this time…”
“Four Death Legions?”
Cho Yeon-un tilted his head at the unfamiliar term. But Jang Il-san was already heading out the door.
Cho Yeon-un cocked his head.
“Who are the Four Death Legions?”
***
Shwick! Shwick!
Before Bang Jin-bo’s eyes, the massive carcass of a slaughtered cow was being expertly butchered. Bang Jin-bo watched closely as it was portioned for easy cooking.
Slaughtering live cattle and pigs was shocking enough. But it couldn’t quell his curiosity about cuisine.
Bang Jin-bo nodded as he observed the separated cuts.
“So that’s how you debone it. Right! Twist it like that, sever the tendons, and the bones come free easily.”
The nearby bandits burst into laughter at Bang Jin-bo’s solitary exclamations.
“Haha! That exciting to watch a cow get butchered?”
“Hehe! I just love cooking.”
“So you’re good at it too?”
“A little.”
“Oh?”
The bandit who had spoken lit up.
Bang Jin-bo still carried a bundle of snacks on his back. It looked comical, yet oddly earnest.
“Hey!”
The bandit suddenly called to his comrade who was slaughtering the cow.
“What?”
“Give this guy a knife.”
“Why?”
“The chubby one wants to learn deboning and meat trimming.”
“What for?”
“Quit yapping and hand him a knife. Teach him. It’s not that hard.”
“Fine.”
Chided by his friend, the middle-aged butcher nodded.
“Come here, tubby.”
“Yes!”
Bang Jin-bo hurried over, beaming.
“Tch! That thrilled over cutting meat?”
The watching bandits shook their heads. But Bang Jin-bo ignored them and asked,
“How do I do it?”
“Let’s start with breaking down the torso. Take this cleaver.”
“Yes!”
Bang Jin-bo hefted the broad butcher’s knife.
It was honed to a razor edge, gleaming blue.
“Be careful. Mishandle it, and you’ll lose fingers.”
“Yes, sir!”
“First, stab it between the ribs here. Then twist it gently like so…”
Bang Jin-bo followed the butcher’s instructions, maneuvering the cleaver.
Shwick! Shwick!
The knife sliced through meat with crisp sounds.
“Right! Now cut the tendon there.”
“Like this?”
“Yes! Then twist back into the bone gap. Apply pressure and…”
Pop!
One rib bone supporting the ribcage sprang free.
“That’s it! You’re a natural.”
Bang Jin-bo smiled at the praise.
Shwick! Shwick!
With each motion, the meat separated into perfect cuts.
“That’s the tenderloin. Attached inside the ribs—tender and tasty. Remember it.”
“Yes!”
“Next is the chuck. Thick meat, so the knife won’t go in easy. Extra care.”
“No worries.”
“Right, stab along the spine grain. Gently now…”
Bang Jin-bo nodded, focusing entirely on the blade.
Shwick! Shwick!
Soon, sweat soaked his clothes.
Butchering such a large beast was no small task. His hands trembled, breath grew ragged.
Yet Bang Jin-bo didn’t stop.
A bright smile soon graced his lips. The bandits chattered at the sight.
“Look at him. That happy cutting raw meat?”
“Yeah! He’s grinning.”
Regardless of their talk, Bang Jin-bo poured his nerves into his fingertips, slicing away.
Clang!
When he finally set down the cleaver, the massive cow lay portioned perfectly.
He had done it single-handedly.
“Whew!”
Bang Jin-bo wiped sweat from his brow with his sleeve.
Exhausted to the bone, barely able to stand, his chest swelled with accomplishment.
“Not bad. Good work.”
The butcher clapped his shoulder.
“Hehe!”
“You rascal.”
“Do you uncles cook too?”
“Cooks are the women’s job.”
No sooner had he spoken than nearby women scooped the cut meat into baskets.
“What, wanna cook too?”
“Yes!”
“Knew it. Follow those ladies.”
“Really?”
“You’d tag along anyway.”
“Hehe!”
“Go on! They saw your knife work—no objections.”
“Thank you.”
“No need.”
“Thanks to you, I learned a great skill. I won’t forget it—I’ll use it well.”
“It’s nothing special. Hurry up.”
“Yes!”
Bang Jin-bo bowed to the man and followed the women.
His heart pounded.
‘Hehe! Wonder what dishes they make at the stronghold?’
The mere prospect of new recipes filled Bang Jin-bo with joy.
“Come on.”
“Hohoho!”
The women surrounded him, laughing.
The bandits muttered at the scene.
“That happy about it?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, looking forward to dinner. What’ll they serve?”
That was when, amid the laughter,
a bird suddenly soared over the stronghold.
“Huh, messenger pigeon.”
It had come from the village at the foot of Mount Hwasan.
The pigeon flew straight to Hwang Kyung-moon’s quarters.