The Demonic Cult Serial Murder Case: #5 Absolutely No Chinese
#5 - ABSOLUTELY NO CHINESE
Choe-ri-ong was at a complete loss. The statement meant the interest he had taken in Cheong had vanished. It wasn’t as if Cheong represented every woman in the Central Plains, and the idea of a man holding interest in another man made even less sense. Still, he couldn’t offer a detailed explanation. All he could do was let her misunderstand.
And misunderstand she did, to her heart’s content.
No, the martial art changes your sexual orientation? They call it the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, but isn’t that straight-up demonic? Shouldn’t they rename it the Heavenly Demon Art? Or maybe the Male God Demonic Art. Hell, why not just call it the Sodomitic Demonic Art?
Hmm. Is that off the mark? When she thought about it, this was a world where learning martial arts could make someone prettier, sensitive one moment and numb the next—every possible change happened. Maybe there really was something like hormonal adjustment involved.
Even so, it was a truly complete demonic art.
“Whatever, let’s say that’s how it is. But liberating the Central Plains? With that son of a bitch as the head, equality across the four seas my ass. What paradise? Sounds more like he’s planning to build a hell.”
“That matter will naturally resolve itself once the Supreme One completes his divine art. Do not doubt it.”
“Why? Is the guy suddenly going to turn kind? Ha! Now that… Well, actually, it could make sense.”
Cheong’s words twisted at the end. Come to think of it, after learning the Daejeong Seongong, she herself had changed, hadn’t she? That Jijon bastard might be in a far worse state than her. In that case, the part about losing interest in her? Sexual orientation and kindness had nothing to do with each other. Was it a martial art that turned you into a kind homosexual? Or did it make you kind in exchange for becoming one?
Then she wondered why she was even pondering such nonsense.
So what? Whether that bastard became kind or started hooking up with men, what did it matter to her?
Then Choe-ri-ong spoke. His tone was almost pleading.
“Just endure a little longer. Once you open the Cheonma Tomb and the Supreme One completes his divine art, he won’t stop you from leaving.”
“Huh?”
Cheong blinked.
“What? He’ll just let me go?”
“The Future Heavenly Demon does not wish to keep unbelievers beneath him. As long as one does not oppose the Divine Cult, he will be merciful.”
Cheong growled.
“Old man, do you know that Jijon bastard tried to gouge my eyes out just for talking back once? Whether it’s a divine art or a sodomitic demonic art, the moment he learns it an absolutely horrific bastard will be born anyway.”
“Impudent wench! How dare you utter such blasphemous words?”
The Jajeon-magun cut her off sharply. Purple light flickered between the old man’s body and the world. Jajeon Magi. Unlike Cheong’s true qi, the original owner’s Jajeon Magi possessed the dignity befitting one of the ten great demonic arts. This was because the Jajeon-magun’s Jajeon Magi had already completed its final evolution into Jajeon Ganggi.
It only appeared when the Jajeon-magun grew angry. At the sight, Cheong’s own temper flared and she shot back.
“What is this? You’re getting angry at me now? Just because I cursed a little martial art? Why are you flashing like that—are you going to strike me with lightning and fry me?”
“Impudent!!”
“Kyaaak!”
Crackle. Her vision flashed pure white as a shrill scream burst out involuntarily. She couldn’t even tell where she’d been hit. In an instant it wrapped around her entire body, as if her bones and muscles were melting all at once, screaming in agony.
Fortunately the pain subsided immediately. But it was a blow that brought her back to her senses.
Cheong had always lived by the rule of being strong against the weak and weak against the strong, bowing before true power. That strength and weakness included not just martial realms but relationships as well.
Since Choe-ri-ong had shown her such a soft, indulgent side, she had gradually grown bolder until it came to this. After getting hit once and reflecting on it, she realized the Jajeon-magun was actually a master of the Harmonious Realm. Moreover, an absolute expert who could turn her into crispy fried food purely on a whim.
Ah, I got way too cocky. What was I relying on to act like that?
Reflecting on her recent behavior, Cheong forcibly pulled the corners of her mouth upward. The result was a servilely packaged smile.
“Hehe. Elder. Why get angry like that? I guess I was just startled and my words came out a bit strong. You know it wasn’t my true intention, right?”
“I… I’m sorry. It wasn’t on purpose.”
“Oh, of course. Didn’t I learn it too? How could I not know. Elders have their gloomy moments. I don’t mind it at all.”
“No. Child, that’s not it. This is…”
Rather, the one who had struck her—Choe-ri-ong—wore the face of someone who had been beaten. Cheong’s smile was simply too unfamiliar. The smiling face and eyes weren’t truly smiling. Her thinly trembling pupils pointed in his direction, but the focus was off, aimed somewhere around his forehead or brow, never properly meeting his gaze.
When one grows old, one gains the wisdom to clearly recognize what that expression is called. It was the emotion the world knows as fear.
The old man’s cloudy eyes wandered through another time. There had once been eyes that always looked at Choe-ri-ong. The saying that one can know a person’s character by looking into their eyes did not come from the righteous light of the Dao or the vicious nature steeped in demonic energy.
When people see something familiar, their eyes move first. Unconsciously they wag their tails in friendliness, and their gaze stays fixed. When seeing something fearful, the pupils tremble. When looking at something hated, the luster dies, the color grows colder than the north wind, and fierce poison draws sharp angles like a dagger.
That is why the world calls the round thing seen in familiarity an “eye,” and when seeing something hated, it becomes an “eyeball.”
Choe-ri-ong had engraved in his bones through bitter experience that fear exists in the process of eyes turning into eyeballs.
The body that had grown cold in his arms—who could have known it would be such a short life? The eyes he could not close even in death, the vivid hatred they held.
“Huk.”
Choe-ri-ong’s complexion turned deathly white. No, it went beyond white to a bluish pallor. Eventually he tumbled to the floor with a crash, eyes rolled back, body shaking.
In the old man’s ear, the bulging eyeballs whispered.
I hate you. I despise you. It would have been better if you had never been born.
Old man? Why are you suddenly like this?
Get lost. Please. I’m begging you.
What is it? Suddenly acting like we’re at a funeral?
The last world I see shouldn’t be your horrible face.
Hey, snap out of it! Old man! Old man!
Father, you must live a long, long time. Because I don’t want to see that face in hell.
And Choe-ri-ong’s trembling stopped.
“……It’s fine now.”
“Are you okay? Have you come back to your senses?”
“There’s no need to make such a fuss. It’s just because I’m old.”
“You looked like you were about to head straight down the road to the underworld, and now I can’t even make a fuss?”
“I cannot go yet. I must see my Heavenly Demon rise and witness the Central Plains become peaceful beneath the Divine Cult’s rule.”
Cheong lifted Choe-ri-ong, set him back in his seat, then dragged her feet back to her own spot. After that she diligently swept up the fruit. Since it seemed the days of free meals were coming to an end, she intended to eat as much as she could while the opportunity lasted.
Choe-ri-ong simply smiled bitterly and stared blankly at a corner of the table for a long time.
The table was emptied like that.
Cheong debated whether to end the meal or ask to be carried back. Had the insignificant Sajae now become Pedestal Number One? No, since it was the only one, a number wasn’t necessary. Should she simply promote it to official pedestal?
It was then that Choe-ri-ong brought up a story no one had asked for.
“You must have heard that I once had a daughter.”
Cheong answered awkwardly. Had this been before she got hit, she might have snapped back with something like, “I heard that bitch was an absolutely world-class brat.”
“Well. I’ve heard rumors that your daughter was quite the unique person.”
“Yes. She was a treasonous daughter.”
“Uh, if it’s a heavy story you really don’t have to tell it.”
Sensing the deep resentment in his voice, Cheong quickly tried to shut it down. She hated melodramatic tales.
However, Choe-ri-ong shook his head and continued as he wished.
“She was always desperate to leave the Divine Cult. When I stopped her, from one day onward she began to regard her own father as the enemy of the world. But how could the daughter of the Great Guardian go out into the Central Plains?”
“You were the Great Guardian, elder?”
“I was, at one time. Until my daughter stabbed me in the heart and died.”
“Ah.”
Damn. This is getting heavy.
“She killed herself in the flower of her youth without ever properly blooming. Until the very end, she left this world hating her father as her enemy.”
Cheong couldn’t respond and simply rolled her eyes around.
“If this old man were to betray the Divine Cult now, how could I face my daughter’s face in death? She would immediately come questioning me.”
A shadow fell across Choe-ri-ong’s aged face.
“While I was alive, didn’t you torment me so much saying it was for the Divine Cult that I didn’t die? The heartless father who killed his daughter—now that he’s old, has he betrayed even the Divine Cult he cherished so dearly for some wench he barely knew? If she questions me like that, what am I to do?”
Cheong just awkwardly scratched her head.
Seolgajik’s words had been both right and wrong. The part about how persuasion would never work was correct, but calling him a devout believer of the Divine Cult was wrong. He was simply a pitiful pseudo-believer who had to remain devout for fear that his dead daughter’s death would be in vain.
Aish. The living could never win against the dead.
From the beginning, Choe-ri-ong’s words had been that kind of refusal.
“Once the Cheonma Tomb matter is successfully completed, I will send you back. Even if it is the Supreme One, if I stand in his way he will not treat you recklessly. So if you could just endure until then, I would be grateful.”
Cheong let out a deep sigh.
“I understand. If that’s what you want, elder.”
Of course it was only lip service. First of all, there was no way she could trust that Jijon bastard. He was the kind of guy who would reach the Tal-ma realm the moment he learned that sodomitic demonic art. If he suddenly decided to kill her then, even if the old man tried to stop him it would be too late. She could not stake her life on someone else’s mercy.
Therefore she must not let that Jijon bastard achieve Tal-ma.
Besides, she didn’t want to see it either. At the critical moment she would interfere, spectacularly destroy that Heavenly Demon Soul, and watch his face twist in agony.
And there was a second reason.
Even if she returned safely, there would be problems. Eventually that bastard who went from Jijon to the Future Heavenly Demon would gather every vicious thug in the Demonic Cult and come attacking. What about the sweet home she had obtained in the Sinnyeo Sect? Moreover, if rumors spread that Seomun Cheong had given the male-preference demonic art to the Heavenly Demon, what then? It wouldn’t end with just her being destroyed. She would definitely be destroyed by her master.