Demonic Cult Serial Murders: #5 A Chinese Must Absolutely Not

“Thousand Spider Venom Hand? A poison art?”

Cheong instantly summoned the martial arts window. Thousand. Spider. Venom. Hand. Search.

A thought suddenly occurred to her. The strategy guide had definitely called poison arts trash, right? She had survived this long thanks to that guide. Because you never spoke nonsense.

“Your realm is astonishing for your age, but the enemies you’ll face are numerous and powerful. Is there any better tool than poison?”

Yet Seolgajik had never spoken nonsense either. He was the greatest intellect Cheong had met in the Central Plains. His words shook her again. Hearing it put that way, it sounded tempting. After all, poison might be weak in a game, but in reality, what could rival it? This world wasn’t exactly like the game, so listening to a native’s opinion might not be so bad.

“Besides, when would you ever have time to collect venomous spiders one by one? If someone offers you a manual, just ask for the Daejeong Seongong. It would suit you far better than any poison art.”

“Daejeong Seongong…”

That was another purple internal energy cultivation method. Cheong didn’t know it, but it was a technique known to every martial artist in the world. A divine art renowned for purifying the mind more cleanly than any other, protecting the spirit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from inner demons and granting absolute clarity. However, in the game of “If I give you one technique, what will you learn?” the Daejeong Seongong carried a different meaning.

It meant stop falling into ridiculous delusions and get your head straight. Of course, there was a sliver of genuine advice mixed in. If she kept piling up murderous karma like this, she was bound to become the righteous path’s next great demon, eyes bloodshot as she declared she’d slaughter every villain in the world.

“So your recommendation is the Daejeong Seongong?”

“Yes. Learn it immediately. If anyone offers.”

Cheong was ignorant about many things. Sarcasm and sophisticated jabs simply didn’t work on the ignorant.

“The Muscle Tendon Change Classic takes a long time to show effects, but the Daejeong Seongong works instantly, right?”

She had interpreted it in her own unique way. Seolgajik looked at her with pity in his eyes—the gaze of a man realizing his friend was even more of an idiot than expected.

“The Daejeong Seongong is a divine art that protects a righteous heart. It means stop indulging in empty delusions and come back to reality.”

“Ugh, then why didn’t you just say that from the start?”

“Didn’t I just explain it? Besides, I had to know exactly how ignorant you were first so I could adjust my explanation to your level.”

He had gone to great lengths to call her an ignorant bitch. Cheong, with nothing to say in return, could only scowl. As expected of Seolgajik. The man was no pushover. When at a loss for words? Just change the subject.

“By the way, you said you wanted to learn the Maiden’s Joyful Technique, right? Can a man even practice that?”

“The orthodox Daoist dual cultivation arts were never restricted by gender. I couldn’t exactly brag about where I learned it, though. From what I know, it sharpens the body’s senses. I thought it might help treat this useless shell of mine.”

“Is it that uncomfortable?”

Seolgajik quietly pointed at his own head. His hair was still damp, not yet fully dry.

“Ah.”

Cheong made a meaningless sound. Then Seolgajik calmly dropped an even sadder truth.

“More than that, I feel nothing in my cock. If I died, I’d probably come back as a eunuch ghost. Even alive, I can hardly call this living.”

“Ah. I see.”

Cheong let out a sympathetic sigh. No way! Seolgajik was a eunuch!

“Then can’t you just do it yourself?”

She made a crude up-and-down gesture with her loosely clenched fist. Seolgajik looked disappointed.

“Can’t you at least pretend to be embarrassed? My cock is hopeless, and even mentally I can’t find ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠any pleasure. Nothing works.”

“Ah. You wanted to see me acting shy? No wonder you kept throwing out those perverted old man jokes.”

Cheong’s eyes narrowed. It was shameless, but her heart ached more at his calm confession about being impotent. If he had raged or cursed, maybe it would have been different, but this was the resignation of someone who had already accepted his fate with detachment. Having once been a man herself, Cheong could empathize with that sorrow completely. Besides, Seolgajik was an excellent ally. He picked out people worth killing and gave solid advice.

“Then I’ll recite the formula, so listen carefully.”

“What? Wait—”

“Alright, formula incoming. ‘Sangsaengjido-wirak-injisangjeong ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠jeuk-aegungchang-birak-wijikwaerak-eon-ya-un-uji-rak.’ In other words, when people enjoy the path of mutual growth as pleasure, that love…”

Seolgajik, who had been about to explain further, quickly shut his mouth as the formula flowed out and focused. The formula came with perfect interpretations, so the naturally brilliant Seolgajik absorbed it rapidly. He memorized it after only three repetitions. The proof was that he immediately assumed the lotus position and began circulating his energy. He had earned the right to be acknowledged by Cheong as one of the Central Plains’ greatest minds.

What he said next, however, was ridiculous.

“Don’t come by for a while.”

“What? You’ve ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sucked me dry of everything useful and now you’re discarding me?”

“It’s not that. Even I need time to organize this rare stroke of fortune, don’t I?”

Cheong frowned. But it felt awkward to complain when the man was trying so hard to escape his eunuch status. Since he had taught her something, it was only fair to give him time to practice. Her disappointment was obvious. Seeing this, Seolgajik finally got to the main point.

“While you’re at it, take a week off as well. Killing villains is fine, but it would be better to calmly organize what you’ve gained. You’re in a truly dangerous state right now.”

A week passed.

No one in the Palace of Joyful Demons dared touch Cheong anymore. Everyone now knew that the person living in the smallest room at the top of the disciple quarters was far stronger than expected. There were even rumors that the shrine maidens from the main palace of the Divine Hall crept about fearfully while attending to her. The very same shrine maidens who looked down on the Palace of Joyful Demons’ disciples like garbage. Those damn women who acted so prim and proper, calling them filthy whores and the like.

As with all rumors, people claimed “I heard it from someone,” but no one could identify the original speaker. If Instructor Kang heard it, she would be shocked. In that humiliating classroom where the lessons took place, the only ones present were Cheong, Instructor Kang, and the apprentice shrine maiden and servant, Soyoung. It was as if some ghost had witnessed the scene and spread the tale.

For the record, Cheong had zero interest, so she never bothered promoting Instructor Kang’s devoted teaching passion. On top of that, she had suddenly risen in status recently and was now backed by Gyeon Po-hui, who summoned her every single day with a “you on top, me on bottom” command. As a result, the disciples of the Palace of Joyful Demons wouldn’t even approach Cheong’s vicinity.

Still, it was fortunate her legs were crippled. If they didn’t come close, they wouldn’t get bitten. She was treated almost like a vicious dog.

Even so, Cheong’s week was brutally packed. Just because she lacked information didn’t mean the people who deserved killing had disappeared. Couldn’t she see how many “killable” marks floated above their heads? In truth, she only needed information to efficiently kill the more useful villains. Otherwise, she could simply check their karma, torture them, extract their techniques, and kill them. That was all.

So for the past week, she went out alone every night to play, returned exhausted, and slept like the dead. It had been quite fun, but as a way to obtain escape techniques, it was a massive failure. She had only gathered a bunch of random white and blue ones. It was the difference between knowing the coordinates and digging properly versus just randomly stirring the sand.

After sleeping and waking up, it would be around lunchtime. She ate with Stand-in No. 2, and if Stand-in No. 1 came by occasionally, she ate with her. In the afternoon, she received a special massage treatment and snack tribute from Instructor Kang. When Cheong deliberately slowed the pace because things seemed to be progressing too fast, Instructor Kang seemed more at ease and became noticeably kinder.

When evening came, she went out for dinner with Stand-in No. 2. Only then did her free time for rest finally arrive. During that free time over the week, she watched Gyeon Po-hui practice the Tangseon Talui Dance. It was a primary joint technique taught to second-generation disciples of the Palace of Joyful Demons, and Gyeon Po-hui, having advanced to the second generation, had received a handwritten copy of the manual.

Cheong didn’t know this, but the group dance performed by the palace’s disciples was a notoriously vicious joint technique famous throughout the martial world. The disciples of the Nine Great Schools, who followed the orthodox path, tended to have weak resistance to women. They couldn’t help but lose their minds at the high-class sorcery of beautiful women gracefully shedding their clothes while dancing. Countless righteous disciples had been ground down or sucked dry by it across the four Great Righteous-Demonic Wars.

The Central Plains was a primitive place with little entertainment. Cheong had called her over to watch as a spectacle and made her practice. But the movements were clumsy and jerky, and she even got her limbs tangled while trying to undress and fell over. It was a complete mess.

Frustrated, Cheong stamped the technique once through the martial arts window, learned the formula and movements, and began giving instructions from the side. Thanks to that, she learned that Stand-in No. 2’s dancing talent was at a catastrophic level. Instead, only Cheong’s own achievement skyrocketed from the combination of instruction and observation. In just a week, she had already reached three stars of mastery.

“No, samae. The hand movements need to be more… slinky. Swaying gently, like this. Swaying. Can’t you do it? Swaying?”

Cheong shook her hand in a seductive, flowing motion. It was a deadly hand technique that sprang from the shoulder, passed through the elbow and wrist, and lured the opponent with the fingertips. Gyeon Po-hui watched carefully and tried to imitate it.

“Um, swaying… like this?”

If one had to classify it, the movement resembled a mantis stance. What was that? What was that motion supposed to mean? Was she trying to burst someone’s heart? Cheong narrowed her eyes. No matter how many times she demonstrated it, the girl couldn’t do it. Seduction my ass—she was doing some kind of mantis fist. Was watching one striptease dance this difficult?

Sigh. Stand-in No. 2 is completely unusable.

Wouldn’t first-generation disciples be better at this? Should she pick up something else instead? Other than watching the finale, it was pretty useless. Even the finale was always the same, so she was already bored of it. They just climbed on top, shook their hips a bit, and it ended when the one underneath passed out from lack of breath. No matter what positions Cheong requested, she only knew that one.

Anyway, Stand-in No. 1 bought her meals better. Did she really need two stand-ins?

“Um, samae. I’ll work really hard, so…”

“It’s not even a matter of effort anymore. Talent. Or should I say, the complete and utter lack of it. If having zero talent counts as a talent, then sure.”

Gyeon Po-hui hung her head. Her body trembled faintly and her shoulders shook occasionally. Cheong’s face crumpled. What? Is she crying? Why is she sniffling right in the middle of my room? If you’re going to cry, do it in your own room. You’re making me look like the bad guy here.

Besides, had she said anything wrong? She was just stating the obvious. Praising her and saying she was improving would only waste time. It was a useless skill that only taught pathetic melodrama.

Cheong glanced above Gyeon Po-hui’s head. The usual comforting number was there.

-136.

She could still kill her, but the girl was no longer useful. Might as well let her accumulate some good karma.

Suddenly, a chill ran down Cheong’s spine. Let her?

“Ugh—”

Her stomach suddenly flipped, and everything she had eaten for dinner tried to make a grand escape in the direction it had entered. Even a master’s control couldn’t stop the half-digested food’s revolutionary charge. It scraped up her throat with volcanic force and erupted magnificently.

“Samae? Samae!? Are you okay!?”

“My… ugh… back. My back.”

At those words, Gyeon Po-hui patted Cheong’s back. Her strength was weaker than a five-year-old who hadn’t even started kindergarten. Couldn’t she just pat properly or hit hard? Did she think a person’s back was made of soft tofu? It wasn’t going to burst from a slightly firm pat. This was the perfect excuse to smack her useless samae’s back, wasn’t it? How fragile did she think Cheong was?

In the end, only after she had expelled every last bit of her lavish dinner did the reflux stop. There wasn’t much left in her stomach anyway. Her stomach was still trembling. Ah. This feels like stomach cramps.

“Samae? Feeling better now?”

“Not really…”

“Can I have some water?”

“Ah, wait. Here.”

Gyeon Po-hui brought the cup to Cheong’s lips. Cheong shook her head.

“No, just give it to me. You don’t have to feed me water too.”

“Ah.”

Gyeon Po-hui handed over the cup. Cheong activated her Ice Heavenly Demon Art to chill it. Soon, frost formed on the surface of the cup. She gulped it down in one go. The icy cold water pierced through her insides, clearing her hazy mind. Then the aftereffects of the dinner eruption hit her. The stomach acid and chunks that had gone up her nose delivered a pain like her entire skull was being squeezed.

“Hiss… I’m dying…”

“Samae? Are you okay?”

“How many times have I heard that today?”

“Um… Then. Uh. Are you… okay?”

“I think I need to rest today. You worked hard too, samae, so take a break.”

Stand-in No. 2 looked genuinely worried. Cheong reflected deeply. Yeah, she’s not particularly kind, she’s incompetent, stupid, and not very helpful, but she still cares this much. I must be going crazy.

I should have rested when Seolgajik told me to. Why did I work so hard every night?

Feeling sorry, Cheong added one more thing.

“Starting tomorrow, let’s practice together. That way you’ll improve too. It’s supposed to be a group dance anyway, right?”

“Eh!? Eh? Yes!”

Gyeon Po-hui instantly switched back to her bright and cheerful state. Not kind, incompetent, stupid, not helpful, and now I have to add simple-minded to the list.

“If you’re not feeling well, you should rest. I’ll call the other samaes to clean up. Your clothes got dirty too, right? Take them off and leave them.”

Yet she never offered to clean it herself. Because she wasn’t particularly kind. Anyway, as long as it wasn’t Cheong’s problem, she nodded. After Gyeon Po-hui left and she was alone in the room, Cheong summoned the martial arts window once more.