Prostrations to the True Master
"We've brought him."
"Ah, good." Bang So-un turned his gaze to Yang Dae. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Bang So-un, leader of the Golden Dragon Battlefield."
Yang Dae cupped his fists in greeting. "It's an honor, Leader. I'm Yang Dae."
His voice trembled slightly. Even for a man whose trade was gossiping in crowds, facing the Golden Dragon leader for the first time was nerve-wracking.
"Yang Dae, eh? I see. You're something of a martial arts enthusiast, aren't you?"
"H-how did you...?"
Yang Dae blinked in astonishment. He had no choice but to be shocked. He wasn't some famous aficionado, and certainly not someone the Golden Dragon leader would know.
"Haha, looks like I hit the mark. It was just a simple guess, really. When those villains were causing chaos, everyone else cowered in fear—but not you. Your eyes sparkled, like you wanted to etch every single moment into your memory."
"J-just from that...?"
Yang Dae was awed. But every word was a complete fabrication. Bang So-un had only spotted him moments ago. Rather than intuiting it from his eyes, he'd just tossed out a plausible excuse. It made him seem sharper, more perceptive.
"Anyway, I took you for an enthusiast and called you over."
"Is there something you'd like to say?"
"Of course. But shall we move somewhere else? Too many ears around here—hard to talk freely."
"Ah, sure, anywhere's fine."
"Good. Let's go, then."
A mountain...?
Yang Dae stared in bewilderment. He hadn't imagined climbing a mountain when Bang So-un said they were moving spots.
Anyone would react the same in his shoes. His mind raced with wild thoughts. Did I unknowingly offend him...? Is that why he's dragging me to this deserted place...? Even absurd notions crossed his mind.
How long had they been climbing?
"Here."
Bang So-un's words snapped Yang Dae from his tangled reverie.
"Wh-where is this...?"
A small hermitage stood before them. Temples dotted the world everywhere, so nothing odd there. The question was why this place.
"Just as it looks—a hermitage. They call it Eunhae Hermitage. We're staying here until the ship arrives."
"Ahh... I see."
Only then did it click for Yang Dae. Why no one could find the Golden Dragon leader despite scouring Haegu. Why he'd climbed the mountain. Simple: his lodging was here.
Who'd have thought he'd borrow a mountain hermitage.
Utterly unexpected. The Golden Dragon leader evoked images of wealth itself. Everyone assumed he'd take the priciest inn in Haegu. Yet a remote hermitage?
Is he always this unassuming? Or putting on a show? Or maybe...
'He might just dislike crowds.'
After the duel, the Golden Dragon leader was famous in Haenam Province. All those prying eyes could easily grate.
Yang Dae figured that was it.
"You've arrived, Leader."
Three veiled women emerged to bow politely before the hermitage. Yang Dae instantly pegged them as his guards. He'd wondered where the rest from the duel grounds were—turns out, staying here.
Still...
Th-those figures...
Yang Dae gulped, averting his eyes carefully. Same veils, but their outfits were worlds apart from the duel. Thin fabric clung tight, outlining every curve. Far too stimulating for a vigorous man like him.
'Is that appropriate in a hermitage?'
The doubt arose naturally. Hermitages were for cultivation. Even as guests, such attire was a grave breach. Monks renounced lust, shunning women lifelong—obvious sacrilege to anyone.
Yet here it was. His mind reeled.
As if reading him, Bang So-un spoke up. "Oh, and only nuns here."
"Ah... r-right."
Caught off-guard, Yang Dae flinched in reply. What a keenly perceptive man. He'd need to tread extra carefully around him.
That aside...
'Everything has a reason.'
Nuns or not, it bordered on improper—but they might overlook it. The Golden Dragon leader surely donated handsomely for lodging. Plausible enough.
"Well, let's head in."
Bang So-un stepped inside.
A quiet room. Only natural for a hermitage chamber in the mountains. Perfect for confidential talk, no doubt.
...Though the climb had taken time. Still, for a possibly once-in-a-lifetime chat with the Golden Dragon leader, he'd endure it a hundred times over.
"Nice, isn't it? I rather enjoy quiet spots."
"Same here."
Yang Dae chimed in, glancing sideways. Muyeong Bido. There she sat. Natural for a man of the leader's stature to have guards anytime, anywhere.
Just...
'I figured it'd be that bear of a guy.'
He'd seemed so close—calling him "young master"—so Yang Dae assumed he'd bring the burly man here. But no, Muyeong Bido.
'She must be a trusted confidante.'
Yang Dae recalled the scene: her declaring herself a devoted subordinate before everyone. For a Peak expert to say that? No ordinary loyalty.
He was dying to know. How had he earned such devotion from a Peak master? What extraordinary qualities bound her so?
"Staring at Muyeong Bido, eh?"
"Eh? N-no, I..."
Caught red-handed, Yang Dae panicked. Rude—he braced to apologize.
But...
"It's fine, it's fine. Seems you've got questions about her."
Yang Dae's eyes widened. ...Does the Golden Dragon leader read minds?
He had no clue Bang So-un had orchestrated it all. Leaving only Muyeong Bido beside him. Predicting Yang Dae's sidelong glances.
"Hmm."
Yang Dae hesitated. But he couldn't pass up the chance to snag a tantalizing tidbit.
He steeled himself. "Yes, I do have questions about Lady Muyeong Bido."
"Haha, thought so."
Bang So-un sipped his tea. Then: "Since our guest is curious, I'll make a gift of it. Muyeong Bido."
"Yes, Leader."
She bowed her head deferentially.
"Answer his questions honestly. But just one."
"Yes, Leader."
'O-one only?'
Yang Dae's eyes flickered. He'd expected limits, but one was stingy. Still, even one from a Peak expert was a jackpot. Rare chance.
'Choose wisely.'
He narrowed it down. Then:
'This is best.'
With resolved expression, Yang Dae spoke cautiously. "Um... how did Lady Muyeong Bido, said to have left the martial world, come to serve you, Leader...?"
The Buddha Hall. Naturally, where they enshrined the Buddha and practiced. Monks' most sacred space.
At this hour, the nuns of Eunhae Hermitage were there too.
Devoutly performing 108 prostrations.
108 Prostrations. A rite to sever 108 earthly afflictions, cultivating the Buddha-mind through 108 bows to the Buddha.
In Buddhism, prostration held dual meaning: reverence for the Buddha, and humility in abasing oneself.
Thus, bows were offered to the Buddha. Utterly obvious.
Yet...
The nuns of Eunhae Hermitage bowed not to the Buddha statue—but in a bizarre direction. Toward a human.
A shocking sight.
But shocks didn't end there. Their attire—or lack thereof.
Monastic robes were expected. But no robes. Nothing at all. Utter nudity, not a thread.
Breasts and pussy slits framed by pubic hair laid utterly bare. Each prostration sent tits jiggling lewdly.
Shock transcended shock.
Yet more remained. In their muttering chants.
"...Pussy slaves serve only the Master... Buddha means nothing..."
"...Pussy slaves serve only the Master... Buddha means nothing..."
"...Pussy slaves serve only the Master... Buddha means nothing..."
A nun serving a human? Denying the Buddha? Could anything be more shocking?
"Heh heh."
Jang Il grinned toothily, reveling in the depraved display.