The Heavenly Demon Cult Serial Murder Case: A Night of Murders Without a Culprit
Of course, the fundamental nature of existence never changes. Gyeon Po-hui’s fundamental nature was that of Support Stand Number Two.
Cheonma Divine City was a city made up of nine districts. As was typical for cities in the Central Plains, the nine districts had been given straightforward, intuitive names: Central District, East, West, South, and North Districts, plus a few other painfully obvious ones.
The Hall of Joyous Pleasure sat imposingly at the very end of the red-light district road on the eastern edge of the East District.
“So, sworn sister, where should we start sightseeing? Is there anywhere you want to go? Want to look at jewelry? Should I buy some throwing hairpins too?”
“Do whatever you want. I heard there’s a place in the Northwest District called the Brazier Street.”
“Huh? That place is dangerous, you know?”
“Dangerous how?”
“It’s where the unbelievers live, so the patrollers don’t even go there. It’s a complete lawless zone.”
Cheong couldn’t understand. From what she saw, the entire Heavenly Demon Cult was already a lawless zone ruled by the strong devouring the weak. Still, there was one thing that caught her attention.
“Patrollers? Like constables? There’s a government office here too?”
If people like that were wandering around at night, it would be annoying. Cheong herself had been caught several times in the past. Most citizens of South Korea simply couldn’t understand that you weren’t supposed to wander around outside at night.
In truth, Cheong still didn’t understand it. And it wasn’t just her—most high-level martial artists were the same. Once you reached a certain realm, you suddenly lost the ability to comprehend why a nighttime stroll would be dangerous.
“Constables? Government office? Ah. Right, you said you were from the Central Plains, sworn sister? We don’t have any government offices! Those are the Cult’s own patrollers. Oh, I heard that in the Central Plains those constables take bribes, kidnap children, boil them alive, and all sorts of things? We really need to liberate the Central Plains from the tyranny of the government and the Murim—”
“Enough.”
Cheong cleanly cut off Gyeon Po-hui’s nonsense.
“Are there a lot of patrollers? Do they grab people who walk around at night here too?”
“At night? Why? The patrollers get off work when the sun goes down.”
“……?”
Cheong was momentarily stunned. Weren’t patrols supposed to happen at night? During the day, the only incidents were martial artists brawling, so the constables had nothing to do. That was why the government’s public safety mainly involved guarding the night.
Anyway, for Cheong, who had come out for preliminary reconnaissance before her nighttime stroll, this was welcome news.
“Whatever, just take me to Brazier Street already. With a high-level expert like me here, what are you even worried about?”
And that night.
Cheong, her face tightly wrapped, vaulted over a wall. The weightless steps of the Moonlit Stroll shone brilliantly. A narrow courtyard barely a span wide and a modest two-room house.
Cheong gripped the hinge, crushed it, carefully removed the fallen door, and stepped inside—
Suddenly, something caught her ankle. A thread so thin it was nearly invisible.
A trap!
Cheong immediately threw herself forward. And surprisingly, nothing happened. No arrows or hidden darts flew at her, nor was it the kind that rang a noisy bell to announce an intruder.
What the hell? A trap with no payoff? How lame.
Feeling oddly dirty about it, Cheong stood up.
That was when it happened.
“Who’s there.”
The sliding door rattled open and a middle-aged man appeared. It was a bizarre sight. His hair and face were soaked, water dripping steadily from both. He didn’t seem particularly hostile.
Cheong decided to ask the question that was bugging her first.
“Uh, were you washing your face or something?”
“Didn’t you pull the string?”
The middle-aged man pointed inside with the short blade in his hand. On the table unnaturally close to the bed, an overturned water bottle was visible.
“So if you pull the string, water pours on you?”
“That’s right. Now, who are you? At this hour of the night.”
“I heard you possess excellent martial arts, so I came to receive a little sharing. Are you perhaps the person called Seolga?”
The middle-aged man answered.
“You probably heard it as Seolgajik, not Seolga. My surname is Seol and my given name is Gajik. It’s rare, but it’s a proper Northern Sea-style name.”
“Ah, so your name is Seolgajik……”
It was interesting, but the important thing wasn’t the villain’s name.
“Anyway, the Ice… Heaven Asura Demonic Art? Whatever it’s called—if you hand over the demonic art obediently, there won’t be any bloodshed.”
“It’s the Ice Heaven Asura Demonic Art. Your pronunciation is a bit off, isn’t it?”
“Whatever. Instead of seeing something painful, why don’t you hand it over while I’m still asking nicely?”
The man asked back.
“Why? If you want to learn it, couldn’t you just become my disciple?”
“I already have a master.”
“Hmm? You’re not a demonic practitioner? I thought demonic practitioners would sell out their own parents if you offered them martial arts.”
“Ah. I can actually relate to that. Anyway, I’m not like that.”
“Not like that. I see.”
Seolgajik nodded. Cheong said, dumbfounded.
“Excuse me, aren’t you a little too relaxed? A high-level expert just broke in? I’m at the mid-Peak realm, you know?”
“Would being tense make you spare me?”
“Probably not?”
“Then why bother?”
“Fair enough.”
Cheong agreed.
“Anyway, whether it’s the manual or the oral formulas, you’d better hand them over right now. Otherwise it’s going to hurt a lot.”
“What a shame. Torture doesn’t work on me.”
“Once you actually experience it, you’ll realize torture isn’t as easy as you think.”
“Look at this.”
Seolgajik swept up his long bangs. A brand on his forehead was revealed.
“The demonic cult bastards stamped it on me while I was sleeping. I only noticed it the next morning. That’s why I set up the water bottle. Because I can’t feel pain.”
“Wait, seriously?”
He really couldn’t feel pain? Then… wasn’t he basically useless?
“When a person cannot feel pain, this is what happens. If you don’t know pain, you stop feeling fear as well. Does this look normal to you?”
“No.”
“Exactly. And you still want the Ice Heaven Asura Demonic Art? Once you learn it, there’s no turning back. The more you accumulate energy, the duller your senses become until you end up like this.”
This was the biggest drawback of the Ice Heaven Asura Demonic Art. Energy accumulation was a habit martial artists had to maintain their entire lives. In the end, they lost all sensation.
From Cheong’s perspective, it wasn’t a big problem. She just had to reach Great Completion, max out the ability points, and be done. She was more worried that the red-bordered Ice Heaven Asura Demonic Art might be less effective than the side effects of the golden-bordered Girl’s Joyous Pleasure Art.
“That’s for me to worry about, so just hand it over obedi—”
“Understood.”
Seolgajik cut her off and immediately agreed.
“……For real?”
“I have one condition.”
“What is it?”
“Spare my life.”
Seolgajik boldly begged for his life. This time it was Cheong who was flustered.
“Didn’t you just say your senses were dull and you weren’t normal? You were acting like someone who was totally fine with dying?”
“Even if it’s a life that doesn’t feel like living, I still want to live. That’s why I crawled all the way to this remote demonic cult.”
He had a strangely logical mindset.
“Hmm……”
Cheong took pleasure in killing or torturing villains. Because villains deserved it. But she wasn’t a compulsive patient who had to do it, nor was she an addict who couldn’t control her bloodlust. She simply chose not to hold back.
“Then instead, if you know any weak, killable, and preferably convenient bad guys with useful martial arts nearby, could you tell me?”
“Right next door lives an assassin called the Noodle-Faced Killer. There’s no way someone who only just stepped into early-Peak would have such a grandiose nickname, so it’s probably just empty boasting mixed with bravado.”
“Left or right?”
“Facing my front door, it’s to the right.”
“What about his martial arts?”
“Since he’s an assassin, he must have learned something like stealth techniques. If he keeps committing robberies, he’d need at least one skill to erase his presence, wouldn’t he?”
It was a logical and reasonable opinion. Cheong completely agreed.
“Good. Deal.”
“However, I don’t have a manual. Even if I recite the formulas, wouldn’t you have no way of knowing if I’m telling the truth?”
“I have the ability to detect wrong formulas like a ghost. If you don’t want to throw away the life you just saved, don’t try anything funny.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. It’s a cursed demonic art anyway. There’s no reason to teach it incorrectly. Just don’t come back later complaining.”
Seolgajik then recited the formulas. If he tried any tricks, Cheong had planned to cut off an arm, but the martial arts window immediately flashed TRUE.
Tsk, what a shame. But since the opponent literally couldn’t feel pain, it probably wouldn’t be that fun anyway.
“Now that I think about it, reciting it over and over until you memorize everything would be exhausting. If it’s hard to remember, just come back tomorrow. I’ll write it all down in a book for you.”
“No need. Once is enough for me.”
“You memorized all of that in one go? Impressive. You’ll become like me soon.”
She couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or a curse. Cheong ignored it.
“Anyway, keep what you saw here a secret, okay?”
“What’s there to brag about getting your martial arts robbed under threat? It’s too embarrassing to tell anyone. Ah. But.”
“But what?”
“Instead of just covering your face, you should wrap those huge breasts tightly. How many women with three heads are there in the demonic cult? I’m telling you in advance so you don’t get caught later and blame me.”
“Ugh. But that makes me sweat.”
Still, it was a logical and reasonable point with a practical solution. Cheong accepted the criticism.
“Well, thanks for the advice anyway.”
And so Cheong left Seolgajik’s house.
Then, about two hours later, as the summer night sky began to fade into dawn, she returned.
Seolgajik, who had been forced to take another unwanted face-washing, appeared with an uncomfortable expression.
“What is it? Changed your mind already?”
“No. You explained it so well. By any chance, could you introduce me to a few more convenient-to-kill demonic heads who possess powerful martial arts?”
And the next day.
The Noodle-Faced Killer, Mr. Wang, was found murdered. His torso, head, and limbs had all been separated.
Still, at this level… well. It wasn’t shocking enough to draw much attention in Cheonma Divine City.
So, for now, it was still nothing special.