Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Bloodline Pavilion (4)
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Cheongun couldn't help but get excited.
Having swallowed an entire Demonic Cult branch hall and secured so many demonic cultivators, he could expect significant gains just from focusing on martial arts training for the time being.
And the information he'd just obtained.
Even if they lost their demonic arts—or all their martial arts, for that matter—anyone who had once been a demonic cultivator would still be classified as one.
This was great news for Cheongun.
The range of what counted as demonic cultivators had widened.
He wanted to test out more details, but instead, he simply filled his dantian with natural qi and left the chamber.
Now that he'd absorbed a faction, there was something he had to do.
Secure their loyalty.
Crushing them with sheer force was easier for him, but that hardly made them a true faction of his own.
To rule here like a king and live a comfortable life, he needed to win their hearts as well.
The core of human relationships passed down from ancient China.
Connections.
They had to become family.
Only then would they handle the annoying tasks for him, take on the hard labor, and ultimately even lay down their lives for him.
Cheongun swept his gaze over the assembled executives before him and spoke.
"Who am I?"
"You are the Pavilion Lord."
"Right. I am the Pavilion Lord."
"……"
The executives gulped and watched Cheongun's expression carefully.
Their opponent was a monster none of them could handle even if they all attacked together.
And from his behavior, his temper wasn't good.
No, it was downright rotten.
So, the best way to stay safe was to cater to him as much as possible.
Then, Cheongun asked,
"So what are you?"
"Pardon?"
"What the hell are you?"
It was a completely out-of-left-field question.
What were they? There was only one answer to that.
"Martial artists."
"Wrong. Martial artists are those who purely hone their martial skills. Why did you learn martial arts? To stab people in the back, do filthy deeds, bend the knee to the strong, and yap at the weak, right? That's not a martial artist—that's just sword-swinging scum."
Their faces soured.
What satisfying expressions.
"Again. What are you?"
"……"
"Answer me."
"Even so, calling us scum is a bit..."
At that, Cheongun snorted in disbelief.
"What, offended by being called scum? Yeah, I get it. My bad. Calling you scum to your face—I've committed a mortal sin."
"No, it's not that bad..."
"My crime is too grave to repay. No choice. This worthless Pavilion Lord's sin can only be atoned for with your lives."
At those words, they jumped in alarm.
"Wait, why our lives?!"
"The Pavilion Lord's sins must be repaid with the lives of his subordinates—that's Bloodline Pavilion tradition."
"Pardon? We've never heard of such a rule."
"Of course not. I just made it."
"……"
They thought to themselves.
Is he really insane?
"Alright, time to die."
Shing—!
Cheongun shot to his feet and drew his sword.
At the sudden action, the executives' faces turned pale.
"Forgive us!"
"What was that?"
"You're right, Pavilion Lord. We're not martial artists—we're sword-swinging scum."
Only then did Cheongun grin in satisfaction.
The unorthodox were easy to handle.
The strongest ruled, so he could seize the organization like this without much fuss.
Of course, there was some resistance, but that could be crushed with force.
It was possible because this was a place full of those with the strongest obsession for survival.
"Do you know what I hate most in the world?"
"What is it?"
"Scum like you who swing swords around."
"...Forgive us."
"Oh, think an apology fixes it? Then why do something worth apologizing for?"
"……"
The executives shut their mouths completely.
Any word they said would be twisted against them, so they chose the extreme option of silence.
Seeing that, Cheongun said,
"Answer."
"……"
"No answer?"
"……"
As Cheongun's hand went to his scabbard, they finally replied.
"We'll conduct ourselves properly."
"Let's get along from now on."
"Yes."
"You sure can talk."
"……"
Cheongun berated them at random.
It wasn't just stress relief.
This was part of his strategy—to engrave the hierarchy through scolding.
If he didn't establish the pecking order early, these unorthodox types would crawl all over without end.
Well, that was enough of that.
Time to get to the main point.
"As of today, Bloodline Pavilion completely abandons its old ways."
"Completely?"
"Yes. It used to be a den of scum doing nothing but trashy deeds, but from now on, Bloodline Pavilion walks a new path. Not that I'm telling you to abandon your unorthodox nature. I'm no righteous faction member, nor do I see the unorthodox as pure evil."
Cheongun had little interest in dividing into righteous, evil, black, or white.
The evil factions had their own sense of justice and loyalty, acting within their own codes.
If they truly ignored all law and went full mad dog, the Justice Alliance, imperial court, and government would have crushed them long ago.
Conviction mattered more than faction.
That one conviction had kept Cheongun alive viciously since possession.
"What are you?"
"Scum."
"No, before that."
"……People."
"Right, people. So how did people like you end up as scum?"
The primal question made the executives exchange glances.
"Most of you here probably weren't born with silver spoons—or even decent mother's milk."
"That's true."
"To survive, you ignored petty things like righteous or unorthodox factions. You compromised your conscience time and again, endured on the streets, sometimes stole and robbed just to eat and live."
The executives listened quietly.
Not a word was wrong.
"That's the bottom of life. Live weak, get trampled. Live kindly, get mocked. Don't take, get taken from."
Cheongun closely watched their expressions.
Earlier they swallowed curses; now at least they looked like they were listening intently.
"Meanwhile, silver-spoon brats laugh and play noble martial games, spouting justice and conscience. How laughable. What do they know of the streets? Fucking hypocrites. Who are they calling scum?"
"……"
Cheongun had lived as an orphan for years too.
If he'd been born one, fine—but having normal parents and friends, then dropped into barbaric ancient Central Plains as an orphan? The despair was hellish.
"Do you know why I hate sword-swinging scum like you?"
"Why?"
"One picks up a sword to survive, and it forces everyone else to do the same."
"……"
Cheongun rose and walked to the window.
"So from now on, I won't divide Bloodline Pavilion by empty lines like black or white."
Cheongun declared his ambitions firmly.
"Bloodline Pavilion will walk one single path from now on."
Then, Jin Cheon-u from the back asked cautiously.
"What path is that?"
"Demon Extermination."
Demon Extermination.
The name of the cheat mode Cheongun had applied before possession.
"We will be the vanguard to overthrow the Demonic Cult."
"Pardon?"
"Money from the Demonic Cult, supplies from the Demonic Cult, info from the Demonic Cult. Fuck, we're just gonna leech off the Demonic Cult and live."
"……"
Why?
Because I like demonic cultivators.
To survive in a world with that mode applied, he had to follow its playbook.
With 'Demon Extermination' mode active, he had to walk the 'Demon Extermination' path.
Preliminary work for a peaceful, prosperous life in the Central Plains.
Demonic cultivators everywhere in the Central Plains.
Freely give me your strength.
Then, an old man listening quietly spoke up, gauging the mood.
Bloodline Pavilion's Treasurer, Jang Baek-san.
Old Man Jang for short.
"P-Pavilion Lord."
"What?"
"What about the tribute we've been paying to the Heavenly Demon God Cult?"
"Obviously, tell them to fuck off."
"But if we stop the tribute, they'll send someone."
Cheongun whipped his head around.
"That someone—is he a demonic cultivator?"
"Pardon? He's from the Heavenly Demon God Cult, so probably?"
Stop the tribute.
Someone comes.
That someone is a demonic cultivator.
In other words.
'Demonic cultivators... multiply...?'
This was it.
Cheongun trembled with excitement.
The watching executives exchanged looks of 'the madman's at it again.'
"When's tribute day?"
"Today."
"So they're coming soon?"
"They always arrive around the You hour (7-9 PM), so yes."
Soon.
He couldn't miss this chance.
Cheongun threw on a nearby robe and asked Old Man Jang,
"Old Man Jang."
"Yes, Pavilion Lord."
"Got a fishing rod around here by any chance?"
"???"
Fishing suddenly?
Old Man Jang blinked.
8 PM.
The hour when thick darkness had fallen.
A girl approached, leading six escorts.
They soon arrived at Bloodline Pavilion and headed straight to the gate of the Pavilion Lord's annex.
Old Man Jang waited there.
"Old Man Jang, long time no see."
"Yes, miss. His Holiness the Cult Leader is well..."
"Skip the greetings. The tribute."
"Uh, miss?"
"Don't talk to me, it's annoying. Hurry up and bring it."
"Well..."
Old Man Jang glanced around, rubbed his hands, and spoke cautiously.
"A-about the tribute."
"What?"
"Lend me your ear a moment..."
"???"
The girl blinked.
Old Man Jang smiled kindly and beckoned her closer.
His harmless look made her click her tongue and lean in.
Old Man Jang whispered in his raspy elder voice.
"Heh heh, you've been hooked."
"What?"
That was when it happened.
Whip! A fishing line flew stealthily, slicing through the air.
It wrapped around the girl's neck.
The old man then infused qi into his finger and precisely struck the Giant Bone Acupoint—a spot Cheongun had taught him in a rush.
Pop pop pop!
The girl was instantly paralyzed, mouth gaping silently. Old Man Jang swiftly removed the poison pill from her mouth.
And then.
"Surround them!"
Led by Jin Cheon-u.
Bloodline Pavilion warriors burst from hiding, encircling them from all sides.
"???"
The girl's eyes filled with shock.
For the first time in years of Jianghu life, she'd been fished.