Heavenly Demon Cult Serial Murders: #5 - Absolutely No Chinese
The Heavenly Demon Cult serial murder case: #5 — Chinese people absolutely cannot.
Cheong, who had developed a taste for nighttime strolls, began reporting to Seolgajik’s house every night. Thanks to that, Seolgajik was once again drenched in water today.
Yesterday and the day before, he had simply stared at her with reproachful eyes while water dripped from his hair. Today, however, his gaze trembled with hesitation.
Cheong frowned and asked, “What’s with that look?”
“You said you weren’t a Demonic Cultist, yet you turned out to be the Blood Sect’s witch.”
“Huh? The Blood Sect?”
Cheong’s “that expression” was so convincing that even a stranger could read it. No one in the Central Plains could pull off an “I have no idea what you’re talking about” face quite like her.
“Didn’t you use the Sosu Magong?”
“Oh! You know about the Sosu Magong! These days it’s really, really, terrifying.”
The Sosu Magong had truly evolved. It was all thanks to the Ice Heaven Asura Demonic Art. The technique was infamous for its viciousness, scattering a cold, yin-natured poison that left permanent aftereffects. But Cheong’s true qi had never possessed any cold attribute. It was like filling a car that required premium fuel with diesel and trying to drive it.
Now she had the Ice Heaven Demonic Qi. It wasn’t premium, but at least it was regular gasoline.
“So you’re saying you’re not with the Blood Sect?”
“Nope.”
“But you are the Small Hand Witch?”
“Not that either.”
“You did learn the Sosu Magong, though?”
“Oh! You know about the Sosu Magong! These days it’s really, really, terrifying.”
“Now I’m even hearing things… I thought I heard that earlier too……” Seolgajik muttered.
Cheong furrowed her brow. When Seolgajik flinched, she let out a long sigh.
“What? Why are you so on guard?”
“When every informant whose name you’ve learned ends up butchered, how could I not be tense?”
Seolgajik had thought Cheong was just a clumsy thief. In truth, she was a peerless killing star. And not just any killing star—the Blood Sect’s Small Hand Witch. If the Demonic Cult were bad people, the Blood Sect was a gathering of the world’s worst scum. There were levels even to evil.
Seolgajik had seriously considered fleeing the Demonic Cult. Getting involved with the Blood Sect never ended well. It was better than dying in a way that made death preferable. He didn’t fear pain, but he feared the Blood Sect.
Cheong looked genuinely hurt. “I promised I wouldn’t kill you.”
“Informants don’t usually live long.”
“That’s harsh. After everything we’ve been through.”
“Right. Then let’s make this clear. What exactly are we to each other?”
Oh. Was that so? What were they, anyway?
Cheong thought for a moment before finding a suitable word. “Friends?”
Seolgajik’s eyebrows rose, then fell. “Friends. Friends, huh. Friends who don’t even know each other’s names?”
“Seomun Cheong.”
“Your sect?”
“Sinnyeo Sect.”
“Your master? Where did you learn that demonic art?”
“A neutral country—no, wait. My master’s name is Seomun Su-rin. I picked up the demonic art here and there while traveling.”
Seolgajik’s eyebrows shot up and returned. “Seomun Su-rin? The Daemo? The Sinnyeo Sect’s—well, you did say Sinnyeo Sect. The Daemo’s disciple? No, Seomun of the Seomun clan. A formally named disciple? No.”
Seolgajik’s rambling was fascinating to watch. But it only lasted a moment. Composing himself, he asked again, “Just what state is the Central Plains in these days? Has some terrible plague spread and brought it to the brink of collapse?”
“The Central Plains is perfectly fine.”
“Pity. I thought the world was finally ending.”
Seolgajik turned away.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“I should at least offer a friend a cup of tea. There’s a folding table next to the cabinet—set it up.”
“Oh, there are snacks too?”
“Look at the state of this house. Not serving hot water is already worthy of praise. And you’re asking for snacks? You’re not a child.”
Scolding her, Seolgajik stepped outside. Cheong looked around, pulled out the folding table leaning between the cabinet and the wall, and set up its legs. Since it was a friend’s house, she also removed her stifling mask. Then she flopped down and sprawled out. Lying down the moment you arrived at a friend’s house was the highest form of friendship etiquette.
A short while later, Seolgajik returned with a teapot and cups. Seeing her like that—more precisely, seeing Cheong’s girlish face—he spoke.
“So you really aren’t a child. You are a child.”
“What do you mean, a child? Where do you see a child here?”
“If I had married early, I could have had a daughter your age. That gives me the right to call you a child, doesn’t it?”
Seolgajik was, as always, logical. Cheong also thought people in their twenties looked like kids, so a middle-aged Seolgajik would feel the same. Wow. She really couldn’t argue with that.
Seolgajik set down what he was carrying on the low table and asked, “So, what’s the problem this time?”
“Right, that! The patrol leader? That guy’s completely useless! You said he had peerless lightness skill or whatever!”
“I only said there were rumors he possessed it. Hmm. But that wasn’t what I was asking about.”
“Then what?”
Seolgajik looked at Cheong. “You. Don’t you have anywhere else to get attached to? You look rather serious.”
“What does that mean? Out of nowhere.”
“Why would a young great demon of a prestigious orthodox sect grow attached to a ruined middle-aged man like me?”
“Young great demon? That’s going too far.”
“I can more or less guess your nickname too. Something like Three-Headed Witch? No, if the Daemo is willing to pass on her surname, and you’re from an orthodox sect that’s practically family, then perhaps Three-Headed Chivalrous Maiden.”
“What, are you picking a fight with my chest again? I can rip them off and stick them on you. Then you’ll understand this inconvenience and reflect on how you’ve been treating other people’s suffering as entertainment.”
“For someone so young, your mouth is as foul as my peers.”
Seolgajik let out a deep sigh. “I’m saying, chivalry is fine, but don’t let yourself be consumed by murderous intent. Your background is good, your looks are good, and it’s a shame your chest is so vulgar, but there must be plenty of people in the Central Plains who would like you.”
“Well, that’s true.”
“Then why insist on coming all the way into this remote Demonic Cult to carry out your evil-slaying? From what I see, you’re not in your right mind right now.”
To Seolgajik, Cheong had long since awakened as a killing star. As the Daemo’s disciple, she was somehow holding on with orthodox Daoist mental techniques, but when a person had no one to open their heart to, loneliness slowly filled them until they went mad. A young girl like her couldn’t possibly have found someone to trust in a den crawling with villains. She had only met criminals and victims through robbery. After just a few days of conversation, she was already giving her heart? She must have been crumbling for a long time.
Because Seolgajik himself had followed the exact same path before committing horrific murders and fleeing here. That was why a child abused in the Northern Ice Palace now hid in the Demonic Cult on the opposite side of the Central Plains—while also regretting that killing his master, senior brothers, senior sisters, and junior sister, then stealing the secret manual, might have been a bit excessive.
In any case, Seolgajik had accurately diagnosed Cheong’s condition. She had grown soft toward the two supports without realizing it was because of the loneliness that had taken root in her.
Cheong had been lonely ever since she first entered the martial world. In truth, it hadn’t been that long since she received affection in the jianghu. So it was only natural that she would fall head over heels for anyone who showed her kindness. Her disgust toward anyone who only coveted her constitution was merely an extension of that.
Feeling a surge of irritation, Cheong deliberately raised her voice. “Hey. Do you think I want to be here? I was kidnapped, so I’m taking it out on my escape plan while I’m at it.”
“Ah. You were kidnapped. I didn’t know that. My condolences. I thought you’d come crawling in to slaughter villains. Kids your age always say things like that.”
“I did think about dropping by later if I needed training, but not right now, okay?”
“Escape, huh… So that’s why you asked who among the demonic practitioners possessed lightness techniques. You were planning to learn one and escape.”
Cheong seized the moment. “Speaking of which, if Seolgajik could pick just one martial art in the whole world to learn, what do you think you’d choose?”
“Obviously the Maiden Joy Scripture.”
An immediate answer. Seolgajik continued, “I ran here hoping I might somehow steal and learn it, but they said it was a secret art that only the Palace Lord of the Joy Palace could learn.”
“Hey, who asked what you wanted to learn? I’m asking what would be useful for me to learn.”
“I’m pretty sure you said ‘if Seolgajik could learn it.’ Hmm. If I had to pick just one… It would be a game best played between friends of the same age.”
This was, surprisingly, a widely spread pastime in the Central Plains. It was because the primitive, ancient, uncivilized culture of the Central Plains had never developed proper entertainment.
Seolgajik stroked his chin, pretending to think, then finally gave his conclusion. “If you need to overcome an immediate crisis, nothing beats the Dokgo-gugeom Demonic Art. Of course, every martial artist in the world would come after you with weapons drawn, so you’d have to flee far to the Western Regions instead of the Central Plains.”
“Rejected.”
Of course, Cheong was the type who believed that as long as no one found out, it didn’t matter what she learned. After all, the dead couldn’t talk! Her firm rejection wasn’t because she feared repercussions. She had already searched for the splendidly named Saljungsal once. But nothing came up. She could only guess it was either exclusive to native Chinese or something that required a special quest like the Dokgo-gugeom.
“If there weren’t an immediate crisis to resolve, it would be the Muscle Tendon Change Classic. When it comes to nurturing bones, muscles, and blood vessels, there is no martial art in the world that can compare to this supreme divine technique.”
“Ah, the Muscle Tendon Change Classic gets two votes. My master said the same thing.”
“Of course. Any master who cares for their disciple would dream of it. But it’s difficult to master and its effects appear slowly, so it’s not suitable for overcoming an immediate crisis.”
Cheong understood one thing clearly. If she didn’t learn it this time, those two thousand points were definitely going there.
“Then what if I want immediate results?”
“As you know, the only things worth learning and using right away are pure demonic arts.”
“What if I roughly achieve great success?”
“Having delusions as a hobby isn’t good. Live in reality.”
Seolgajik didn’t bother hiding his pitying gaze.
“Hey, I’ll handle that myself.”
Seolgajik fell into thought again for a long while. Then he uttered a single phrase. “Cheonju Mandoksu. That’s right. There was the Cheonju Mandoksu.”