The Stubborn Old Man's Regret
Ji Seungju’s eyelids twitched violently. Just because his expression never changed didn’t mean he lacked emotions. “If you ask why, I would answer that if you find the illusions of the formation to your liking, they are ultimately nothing but fiction. You will starve and wither away. Are you saying you wouldn’t mind dying such a dog’s death?”
“What are you talking about? When did I ever say I wanted to die?”
“You just did.”
“Aren’t you going to break the formation? Why would I bother when we have an expert right here? Let our little brat handle all the annoying, difficult work. She can do whatever she wants.”
Ji Seungju’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. What kind of shameless nonsense was this!
“There is a limit to how thick one’s face can be. Are you seriously saying, without a hint of shame, that you will enjoy the results while offering no help at all?”
“Yep. After all, I’m not the one in a hurry, am I?”
“Th-that’s…”
“Besides, even if I wanted to help the little brat, there’s a reason I can’t. I truly have no choice.”
“And what might that reason be?”
“I do not take orders from anyone weaker than myself.”
Ji Seungju’s face crumpled completely.
“Fucking hell. What kind of crazy bitch is this!”
“Right here. I’m thinking maybe I should stay right here from now on. Though the floor’s a bit cold to lie down on.”
Cheong cackled as she continued to provoke him. Ji Seungju’s face flushed bright red. Then, suddenly, Cheong’s expression turned serious.
“Hey. I may be ignorant, but I know how things work around here. What exactly can you accomplish with some idiot who doesn’t know jack shit about formations?”
“That’s…”
“You could lend your strength, sure. But is that all? If we move separately, it’d be better not to involve you at all. And if we move together, it wouldn’t be any different from you doing it alone, would it?”
Ji Seungju clamped his mouth shut. People who had nothing to say always did that. Cheong, having worked in production for years, had seen countless new hires come and go. A clueless rookie was more hindrance than help no matter how you dragged them around. And if you left them alone to work separately? That was the day the entire process’s yield would be completely ruined.
The same logic applied here. Since Cheong herself was the rookie who knew nothing about formations, what was the point of dragging him along? The only thing it looked like was a scheme to keep him close for surveillance, terrified he might smash some Demonic Cultist’s head in while she wasn’t looking.
Cheong was ignorant, but she wasn’t stupid. From the beginning, she had been the cunning bitch who could perfectly distinguish between people she could mess with and people she couldn’t, then proceed to rearrange their faces accordingly. She simply never tried to act particularly clever. Because she moved according to her mood in the moment, the results often ended up looking stupid. Nevertheless, she was a proud female swordsman of Murim who had somehow survived through sheer attitude!
Her indifference—knowing nothing and refusing to learn anything that wasn’t immediately necessary—could certainly be called a fatal flaw in a person… but still.
“So, won’t you go break the formation for me? I’ll just rest here for a bit. Ah, my legs feel a little numb too,” Cheong said with a sly smile.
Ji Seungju breathed heavily through his nose before finally letting out a long sigh.
“…Very well. In return, please refrain from laying a hand on the believers of the Divine Cult.”
“Hmm. I wonder.”
“There is no need for you to accumulate unnecessary grudges, is there? If you wish to walk out of here unharmed once this is over.”
Then wouldn’t it be easier to just kill them all beforehand? Cheong was thinking exactly that when he continued.
“The depth of a formation’s illusions varies from person to person. If you clumsily interfere and they awaken from the illusion, there are quite a few individuals here whose power far exceeds what a mere Peak realm martial artist could handle.”
“Damn. That actually makes sense.”
After all, even this little brat was walking around perfectly sane. There was no guarantee the other demonic heads would be the same. Moreover, if she smashed a demonic practitioner’s head, she had to completely destroy it to eliminate the threat. Failure could cause massive problems. If left intact, at least they could still retreat even if they missed the Heavenly Demon Soul. In that case, there was no reason to choose the former option.
Cheong roughly scratched her head. Then, out of habit, she untangled her messy hair, twisted it back up, and obediently conceded.
“Fine. I’ll just quietly watch and wander around. So, how long will it take? Doesn’t an expert like you have a rough estimate?”
“Well. With good luck, it might be possible within one full day. With bad luck, we could all starve to death here.”
“If you don’t want to tell me, just say so. Seriously, the way you brainy types talk…”
Cheong grumbled and turned away.
“Where are you going?”
“To sightsee. Why?”
In truth, she was going to look for the Heavenly Demon Soul. From the looks of it, this wasn’t going to be finished in a short time anyway.
“Getting caught in the formation could be dangerous.”
“What, are you actually worried about me?”
“As if that could be the case. I have given you fair warning, so conduct yourself accordingly.”
With that, Ji Seungju turned on his heel and walked off first.
Looks like he’s sulking. Cheong shook her head and scanned the grand hall. Excluding the door they had entered through and the one the little brat had left from, there were still seven doors remaining.
Might as well follow the left-hand rule. The simple logical reasoning that in any maze, if you kept your left hand on the wall and walked, you would eventually break through. Cheong headed for the leftmost door.
----
Roughly half a day had passed, by her senses. The only thing Cheong had learned was a very small piece of knowledge regarding other people’s illusions.
Illusions ultimately fell into two categories. Those with great desires seemed to enjoy visions of themselves achieving success in a future that had never arrived. And then there were those who lingered in the past, searching for what they had lost.
Even if it was just something to eat, hadn’t Cheong herself belonged to the latter group? In that sense, peeking at other people’s illusions wasn’t nearly as entertaining as she had expected. Calling it “seeing future hopes” might sound somewhat cool, but in the end, it was nothing more than childish delusions hidden deep inside.
As for the illusions of those who saw the past… Cheong had zero interest in the life stories of people she had never met. Besides, her search had yielded no results. Honestly, how could there be any progress when she was looking for an object whose appearance she didn’t even know? If it looked like some random rock, there would be no way for her to find it even if she searched for decades with perfect focus.
Damn it. Nothing’s going right.
Cheong grumbled as she crossed a vast plain where a waterfall cascaded and herds of horses grazed on grass. Then, at some point, the deafening roar of rain filled her ears. When she came to her senses, she was standing in the middle of a pitch-black downpour.
To Cheong, who had already broken free of the illusion, it was merely an illusion to pass through. Still, the violent storm was overwhelming just to see and hear. And right in the middle of it, a person was sitting.
Embracing someone in their arms.
As Cheong approached, she saw a familiar face. It was Choe-ri-ong, endlessly staring at the face of his daughter’s corpse while holding it tightly to his chest. He simply let the pouring rain batter his body.
Cheong watched the scene for a moment. It was like looking at a photograph that had frozen in time, save for the rain. The only movement was the occasional blink of the old man’s eyelids, which would briefly cover his eyes filled with endless regret.
The time Cheong had spent eating and enjoying sweets inside the formation hadn’t been short at all, and after that she had wandered for what felt like another half day. It wasn’t difficult for her to understand that Choe-ri-ong had been sitting like this the entire time, clutching his daughter’s cold body.
Cheong frowned. If she was going to enter an illusion, couldn’t it at least show her something hopeful to heal her mind and body? Damn it, the old man was being so pathetic.
“Hey, old man.”
Choe-ri-ong looked up at her with a vacant gaze.
“Would it kill you to look at something bright, fun, and happy? If you’re going to see your daughter’s face after so long, why not recall some good memories instead?”
The scenery changed. In a splendid flower garden, a young child chased after butterflies, letting out the clear, bright laughter unique to children. Even then, she kept glancing back this way, clearly checking whether her father had gone anywhere.
“There. Much better to look at. You don’t have many days left, old man. Pick something nice and die a peaceful death. Stop looking so pitiful and pathetic.”
Choe-ri-ong stared at the scene as if entranced. Then he suddenly muttered a single phrase.
“No.”
And just like that, the scene returned. The rain poured down, the old man was battered by it, and his daughter was dead.
Cheong clicked her tongue in annoyance.
“What the hell? What’s the problem?”
“The child took her own life.”
“I know that. I heard it last time too.”
“Isn’t everyone’s own life the most precious thing to them? Even if the life is hard and difficult, that remains true. Yet if someone throws away their own life, it must mean that simply breathing had become nothing but torment.”
“So you’re saying you want to suffer along with her, old man?”
Choe-ri-ong let out a dry, bitter laugh.
“The child’s only wish was to go to the Central Plains. I don’t know who planted that idea in her, but she believed her happiness lay there.”
“And?”
“At that time, this old man was the Great Guardian of the Divine Cult. Would the Great Guardian have any reason to leave the Demonic Cult? As far as this old man knew, the place called the Central Plains was a hell where parents devoured each other’s children.”
What father in the world would allow his daughter to walk into a living hell? Moreover, Choe Bang-chae was the daughter of the Great Guardian—one of the most hated figures in the entire Central Plains among the Divine Cult.
“She was a good child. She couldn’t even say a harsh word to others, so she was the one who always ended up taking the loss.”
The child changed day by day. Cheong watched that growth as the world around them transformed. The daughter who used to tear up and empathize with anyone she saw being hurt now poured venomous words at everyone with eyes full of nothing but poison. Yet her true nature hadn’t gone anywhere. Every cruel act she committed tore at her own heart.
And so, Choe Bang-chae eventually took her own life.
“Only after my daughter died did I step down from my position and volunteer for duty in the outer court. This foolish old man wanted to see with his own eyes the Central Plains that the stupid girl had longed for. I wanted to mock her, to tell her that she never knew how blessed she was, that she had no idea how happy her position was simply because she was born this old man’s daughter.”
Only after going to the Central Plains did he realize it. The child had been right. He should have let her go. At the very least, the jar of solitude where they devoured each other and cultivated poison—this Divine City—was no place for her. If it hadn’t been the Divine City, perhaps anywhere would have brought her happiness.
Choe-ri-ong once again gazed at his dead daughter’s face. Only then did Cheong understand the meaning of this scenery.
Choe-ri-ong had already been a dead old man for a long time. The only reason he still drew breath was to torment himself. It was the punishment a father who believed he had killed his own daughter had inflicted upon himself. That was why his wish took this form. It was a desire frozen in the most painful and agonizing moment of his life. He simply wanted his heart to be torn apart endlessly.
Could this even be called living?
Cheong roughly messed up her hair. She immediately tied it back again, but the action held no meaning. It was simply something she did when she felt uncomfortable.
“Seriously, I hate this melodramatic crap.”
But was this the old man’s fault? Was it such a terrible sin that he deserved to suffer like this for the rest of his life? She couldn’t say she didn’t understand how he felt.
Cheong had seen the evil deeds of the Jajeon-magun. And she had seen the gaze fixed upon his daughter. Whether things went well or not was ultimately the old man’s fate. But that didn’t mean she wanted to leave him looking so miserable.
Her education was too short for psychological counseling. But physical therapy? That was her specialty.
Cheong raised the hand holding the Boksinjeok high into the air.