The Black Hand's Secret Is Out
Who the hell is holding a knife…? Cheong thought.
She didn’t need to watch her back anymore. Because she was an important person now. The Demonic Cult had underestimated her far too much. They clearly needed the Boksinjeok for something. Thanks to its ridiculously advanced function of unlocking mechanisms by blowing into it—something unheard of in the primitive Central Plains—there was no replacement for her. So they had no choice but to rely on her playing it. And if she refused? They could wait a few decades. Therefore, Cheong decided to act out as much as she pleased. As long as her arms and mouth remained intact, that was enough. She wouldn’t pull that nonsense like that Jijon whiner. Well, she needed her hands and mouth anyway, so losing her legs or eyes wouldn’t matter. In that case, she planned to throw a massive tantrum and scream that she’d rather die. Besides, her legs were recovering smoothly. From the way they looked at her, they seemed ready to applaud just because she could walk. So she would drag things out and wait for the perfect moment. That was Cheong’s plan.
She hadn’t smashed that villain’s head in just because she was bored. It was a test—seeing if it was acceptable, what kind of reaction it would get. A rather bold experiment. What if it went wrong and they tortured her? Cheong was confident she could cry her eyes out, snot and tears flowing, then play all one hundred and eight songs on the flute if needed. But there had been almost no reaction. So she reached a conclusion.
Looks like I’m the one who’s more desperate than they are. Guess I should act out even more.
Of course, it was also fun. The Black Killing Demonic Palm was a palm technique like the Yeorae Shinjang, yet completely different. It focused on powerful slaps with the palm—what they called palm strikes. Its advantage was the incredible sensation. The feeling of shattering a skull to pieces! The downside was that her pitch-black hands looked rather grotesque. They were black. Too black. Not brown or gray, but a pure, near-perfect black with almost one hundred percent saturation.
Cheong looked down at her now pitch-black skin that had spread to the backs of her hands as her realm improved. “Hoo…”
When she exhaled, the blackness slowly faded back into her skin. The Sosu Magong came with the characteristic of making everything below the elbows impervious to blades. The clean skin and the long, slender shape of her hands were merely side effects of the process. And to use the Black Killing Demonic Palm, she had to break that solid, all-purpose impervious state, gather demonic energy, and manifest the black palm. It was much harder than expected. This was because the Sosu Magong had already settled into her meridians in the correct direction. To use the Black Killing Demonic Palm, she had to twist her meridians. It required the delicate task of corrupting perfectly fine internal energy into demonic energy and redirecting it.
Cheong had been hiding the fact that she could change her hands’ color at will, like waving a cheering stick. The cult thought she couldn’t run away because of her hands. Somehow, her mind only spun in devious directions these days. Whether it was a trait of the Heavenly Killing Star or just her original personality, she wasn’t sure. Either way, maintaining the Black Killing Demonic Palm with desperate concentration had the side effect of rapidly increasing her proficiency. That was why Cheong’s Black Killing Demonic Palm was growing so quickly.
Anyway, time flowed steadily. It had probably been about two months. I’m so bored!
During that time, she had killed quite a few assassins. As a result, no one approached her anymore. In truth, the Secret Pavilion— the Demonic Cult’s covert operations department within the outer sect—was composed of mentally elite loyalists. Living peacefully in the Central Plains while remaining devoted to the Cult required more than ordinary mental fortitude. These assassins, armed with endless hatred toward the Central Plains, gathered intelligence as their main duty and supplemented the Cult’s funds through human trafficking, robbery, and murder as side jobs. They were valuable talents. In other words, they were too precious to be wasted on Cheong’s rampages. So an order had been issued to avoid her entirely.
Even that little brat Ji Seungju had started avoiding her. He was the only one whose nerves she enjoyed getting on. It was starting to get boring. I should just kill him. The little squirt had already piled up quite the mountain of evil deeds.
It was right when Cheong had made up her mind that the carriage door burst open without any courtesy. A withered old man, so emaciated that no flesh could be found beneath his skin, looked down at her with displeased eyes. He looked like a skeleton.
“Ah. Is it mealtime?” Cheong obediently stretched out her arms. The old man grumbled as he picked her up.
“You damn wench. The world’s principles have completely reversed. You look like the kind of bitch who would make even the King of Hell jump in surprise during his rounds through the underworld.”
“Well, someone went and crippled my legs, didn’t they?”
Cheong was being attended to by the old man. Not attending him—being attended by him. That was what he meant by the world’s principles reversing. This skeletal old man was apparently the legendary great demon known as the Purple Lightning Demon Lord, Choe-ri-ong. Despite looking like he would die with a single tap, he was a master in the Harmonious Realm. The mountain of evil deeds that earned him the title of great demon was just a bonus.
More masters returning to the Cult had joined Cheong’s escort procession, and now there were four Transcendent masters and one in the Harmonious Realm. Peak masters were practically swarming. That was just the number of experts who happened to be outside and were returning. Cheong had underestimated the organization called the Heavenly Demon Cult. The Cult that aimed to conquer the Central Plains was not a group that only talked big without the ability to back it up.
In fact, her legs had fully recovered two days ago. However, the level of her feigned illness had already reached the heavens. She thought it might be time to attempt an escape, but the sheer number of masters had only increased, so she was still just observing the situation.
Still, the name “Ri-ong”… She kept thinking about it, but wasn’t it kind of cool?
“It’s fortunate that the greatest murderer under heaven has crippled legs. The Supreme One showed truly keen insight.”
“You should think that my legs hurt, so I throw tantrums. If they were fine, I wouldn’t have caused any trouble at all.”
“What an insolent wench, so quick to talk back. If it weren’t for the Boksinjeok, I would have fried you in sewage long ago. Absolutely.”
“Hey now. We’re going to eat. That’s filthy. Can’t you watch your mouth, grandpa? There’s muddy water and oil, so why specifically sewage?”
Choe-ri-ong glared at Cheong with sunken eyes.
“Hey. Don’t look at me with those eyes. I might start to like you.”
Choe-ri-ong’s gaze grew even more menacing. At the Harmonious Realm, even one’s eyes were no joke. Feeling the pressure, Cheong played innocent.
“…You look like the kind of wench who would scrape off every last bit of flesh.”
It meant he would separate her bones from her meat. Slightly intimidated, Cheong glanced around. A vast open plain came into view, dotted with several enormous tents. This was no longer the Central Plains she knew.
When they entered the largest tent, a lavishly set table appeared along with a nightmarish gathering of villains—the perfect intersection of everything evil.
“Has the Purple Lightning Demon Lord arrived?”
The Demonic Cult’s villains greeted Choe-ri-ong. From what Cheong had observed, the Cult’s villains were actually more polite. She understood why. They had all witnessed a certain someone’s head exploding after he got drunk and caused a scene. In this place, lack of manners meant lack of life, so everyone was well-mannered.
“My lord, you could just grab that crazy bitch by the hair and drag her. Yet you treat her so preciously.”
One of the demons tried to flatter him but immediately shut his mouth and lowered his eyes. This was because purple lightning bolts were crackling and spreading out from Choe-ri-ong’s entire body. It was the Purple Lightning Energy unique to the Jajeon Magong. Thanks to that, Cheong got hit by a few strands for no reason.
Delivered to the table, Cheong indulged in the only joy in her life: fine dining. She was stuffing her cheeks until they nearly burst with gluttonous greed when someone arrived late and took a seat across from her.
“Ugh, it’s the brat.”
With her cheeks puffed out, Cheong gave a welcoming smile. He had been subtly avoiding her whenever he saw her face, but today he had shown up right in front of her. There were too many experts around right now, so she would hold back. But just wait and see. Cheong’s smile was chilling.
Ji Seungju opened his mouth immediately without any greeting.
“Previously.”
“Huh?”
“Previously, you asked about the strong preying on the weak.”
Cheong swallowed the food she had been chewing. “What? You’ve been thinking about that this whole time?”
“I considered it for a long time. However, what you did was merely slaughter, not the strong preying on the weak.”
“Really? Why? Because I’m not a member of the Cult? It’s fine when you do it but not when I do?”
“That is not it. When the strong take the lives of the weak, it must be absolutely necessary. At the very least, it should serve as nourishment for reaching a higher realm—a meaningful death.”
He seems to have thought about it quite a bit. But the other party was a former production line worker from a past life. A self-made giant who had majored in the humanities and fought his way into a difficult production job. In a cold society where humanities graduates either became basic livelihood recipients or barely survived on short-term contract work, Cheong had achieved what could only be called a mythical success.
“Survival of the fittest, the law of nature? A sated predator doesn’t hunt? The natural cycle proven by the food chain?”
“…!”
Lightning struck inside Ji Seungju’s head.
“Whatever. If you say so, then that’s how it is.”
Cheong simply lost interest. There was no need to seriously respond to someone spouting nonsense. It was ridiculous from the start. How many predators hunted purely out of boredom? You didn’t even have to look far—just watch the stray cats prowling the alleys.
“However.”
Ji Seungju continued. Cheong looked at him, wondering what nonsense he would spout next. Despite his usual expressionless face, he somehow looked triumphant. What? Did he think he won just because I didn’t argue with him? Was that what he was thinking? Then it was time to show him the ultimate forbidden technique of debate: grabbing the tail of the argument and launching a personal attack.
Cheong loaded the prohibited secret art of argumentation. It was then that he spoke.
“About that hand of yours.”
“Eh?”
“Last time, it was clearly black past the two-tenths mark above your wrist.”
Cheong was flustered. In truth, maintaining the Black Killing Demonic Palm became increasingly difficult as its realm increased.
“I have been observing carefully. During meals, that black energy gradually recedes, does it not?”
During meals, she had no choice but to let her mind wander a bit. Was it such a crime to want to eat comfortably? Even dogs weren’t disturbed during mealtime!
“Haha. Could our little brat have seen wrong with his eyes?”
“You can hide the black palm, can’t you?”
Though it ended in a question mark, it was clearly spoken with certainty. Denying it now wouldn’t make him believe her. Cheong let out a deep sigh. Sharp-eyed little brat. She should have gotten rid of him earlier. Although she had decided to kill him now, he wasn’t someone she could casually dispose of like the previous underlings. This bastard, despite appearances, was a high-ranking figure that made even these formidable experts cower.
“I’ve been caught?”
It was purely her own carelessness, yet she said ‘I’ve been caught?’ Cheong’s hand turned white again. Clean and beautiful. Now that the originally ugly blackness had disappeared, it was truly the hand of an exquisite beauty.
As if he had expected it, Ji Seungju—breaking his usual expressionless face for the first time—slightly lifted the corners of his mouth. And the Black Killing Demon Lord sitting across from them, startled, coughed out all the meat he had been chewing, shooting it powerfully forward.