The Weight of a Hand
The Jeongha Cult. They sounded like they might be something special just from the name, but there was absolutely no reason to be intimidated. This was a world where human hands could carve mountains and split seas. It was an ominous planet where beings who wouldn't be out of place calling themselves living gods casually breathed and lived. In a world like this, maybe a cult shouldn't be taken lightly, but in reality, ninety-nine percent of the religions in any world were pure bullshit. Especially a cult whose strongest members were merely at the Late Stage of Core Condensation? No matter how you look at it, they were just a bunch of frauds. They needed to have some scale to even raise suspicions; at this tiny size, they were nothing more than a local neighborhood club.
"So, let's just not let our guard down."
Since the difference in power was overwhelming, as long as we took a straightforward approach, we could resolve this smoothly.
"So, why did we come to Heokgak Palace... I mean, why did we come here?"
"...."
"Why... why are you looking at me like that... sir?"
"Because you keep trying to run away."
She kept trying to avoid me. It was understandable, but the problem was she looked ready to completely blow off the mission and bolt.
"Becoming my woman is a much bigger deal than you think, you know? Do you even know what that means?"
"Bullsh—"
"Bull?"
"Nothing."
"Come on, say the rest."
"It's nothing."
I'd let it slide this time.
"Since you reached the Qi Circulation realm, I was thinking of giving you an achievement reward."
"...I've never heard of the family having such a reward... have I?"
"Ignore him. Just nod your head. He is like this every day."
"True. I suppose one needs to have that kind of mental state to reach the Qi Circulation realm at that age..."
Ignoring them, I walked toward Heokgak Palace.
"Hey, who posted that mission?! They said it was an Early Stage Core Condensation beast, but it was Late Stage! I almost died!"
"Hey! Honestly, we did the mission together, so we should split it fifty-fifty! You're taking seventy percent of the reward? Are you insane?!"
"Hmph. If you had actually done a single decent person's share of the work, maybe."
As always, the clamor made it feel more like the Heokgak Market than a palace. Perhaps, on the surface, "market" was indeed the more fitting word.
Heokgak Palace was a small economic market operating solely for the members of the Kang Family, accepting only those of the clan. Starting from the role of a basic labor office, it operated on a currency called Merit Points, periodically offering items attractive enough to tempt disciples even if it meant taking a slight loss. Because at its core, it wasn't a market—it was a breeding ground, a training facility. They were investing in the future, even if it meant taking an immediate loss. By the time those immediate losses piled up, one or two of the seeds they sowed would properly bloom. It was a high-stakes business model that only massive conglomerates like the Kang Family could afford to run. Mid-to-small sects with mediocre weight classes often collapsed, unable to withstand the losses.
As expected, weight class is everything.
Passing the stone wall where the mission boards hung, we entered the deeper parts of Heokgak Palace. The dormitories where the disciples stayed, the spiritual herb gardens plastered with restrictive seals, the smithy echoing with smoke and the sound of hammering. Passing through these facilities, which could easily be called a city within a city, we headed toward the center.
As we went deeper, the complexion of Jeongha, who had been glaring at me with a pouty face, began to stiffen slightly.
"Hey. If we go any further, that's Gaju Hall."
"Yeah. It would be, wouldn't it?"
At the center of Heokgak Palace stood Gaju Hall. You could basically view it as Kang Baek-jin's office and training room. Isn't it obvious that Gaju Hall would be in Heokgak Palace? Asking that is about as dumb as pointing out that Seoul is in South Korea.
"Father doesn't want to see our faces."
"Probably not."
If hundreds of family members knocked on his door every single day, how could he live with the annoyance? He probably just opens it whenever he feels like it.
Jeongha's eyes darted from me to So-wol, who was serving beside me, her pupils spinning. Is it really okay for me to be going here? her face asked.
As Jeongha subtly tried to step backward, I grabbed her and pulled her along.
"What are you doing? We have to go see Dad."
"He's not 'Dad,' he's 'Father.'"
"How long are you going to keep doing that? Just speak comfortably."
Using casual speech is hotter anyway.
"Father has no intention of meeting us. Unless he personally comes to see us himself."
"Why?"
"What do you mean, why? Because... he doesn't view us as his real children. He's someone who churns out kids like breeding livestock, not raising a family. Do you think we'll hear anything good if we just barge in?"
"Is that from personal experience?"
"....."
As Jeongha spoke, a slight shadow fell over her eyes. Was it the rebellion against a parent rising from within a child born and raised solely for utility and pleasure? Abuse and hatred are easy, and self-loathing only tastes richer the more you chew on it. That's why people try to drag down others and even themselves to fit their own desired mold, calling it reality, calling it maturity, trying to lock everyone inside the cage of their own thoughts and limits. It's not a bad defense mechanism. Rather than clumsily rushing forward and tripping, slowly expanding the boundaries of the common sense one has set for oneself is, in a way, a solid, orthodox method.
"But I don't have time. If you want, you can wait out here. I'm going to go see Dad."
"What? Did you even listen to a word I said? I told you, if you go, you'll just be treated like an annoying bitch!"
"Well, I'm a bastard, not a bitch."
"That's not the point! Ah, whatever. I'm leaving."
"You're coming with me."
"No!"
Jeongha shook off my hand as I tried to grab her, pausing for a moment. But when she saw I didn't try to aggressively seize her again, she warily eyed me for a second before sprinting away.
"There she goes."
So-wol watched Jeongha's receding back and poked my side.
"Why did you let her go? It seems like you should have caught her."
"Just wait. I have a plan. I'll go pick her up later."
"...."
"Don't look at me like that. It hurts my feelings. It's a bit hard to get close to her through normal means, so... let's just say she needs a little bit of gaslighting. I have no intention of being satisfied with just her body. I want to completely subjugate both the body and mind of a woman named Jeongha to me. And to win her heart in a broken relationship like this, a little bit of theater is necessary."
Anyway.
"It seems Jeongha hates her parents a lot more than I thought?"
"He is basically completely hands-off, after all," So-wol replied.
"Perfect."
Doesn't that mean she has nowhere to lean? Kids like Jeongha don't easily betray you once they're tamed. The fewer connections a person has, the more they tend to cling to them. Just another reason to make her my woman.
After memorizing the direction Jeongha had vanished, I presented my identity token to the guards standing watch outside Gaju Hall. Befitting their title as the guards of Gaju Hall, they exuded a solemn and grave aura. The angry-faced Yacha masks they wore and the heavy chains draped over their bodies were quite impressive. Every single one of them was a monster who had reached the absolute peak of the Qi Circulation realm. The Guardian Yachas, the personal guard of the Family Head.
They verified my token and nodded.
"Young Master Gang Hayun. What business brings you to Gaju Hall?"
Perhaps because they were wearing masks, their voices sounded bizarre, almost like they were digitally pixelated. I smiled as amiably as possible and boldly stated my business.
"I came to get praised."
"...Excuse me?"
From the Yacha, whose brain probably had the words 'strict' and 'serious' wrinkled into it, a trace of actual emotion finally leaked out. Bewilderment. The Guardian Yachas, who wore their solemn and grave atmosphere like a cloak, stared at me through the eyeholes of their masks. I smiled brightly and nodded as if they had heard perfectly.
"...Could you repeat that?"
"I did something great, so I came to get praised by my dad."
So we didn't mishear him? Once that realization set in, one of the guards who seemed to have some seniority stepped forward.
"Young Master. This is not a place for jokes."
Unlike the others, his red Yacha mask had a single white stripe drawn across it. Quite an easy-to-distinguish rank insignia. Well, even without that, the aura he was radiating—not even bothering to hide it—made it obvious he was different.
"I'm not joking."
"Then."
"A son did something impressive and came to brag to his dad. How is that a joke?"
"That itself is the joke."
The white-striped Yacha's patience was clearly wearing thin. The mechanical, cold tone he had been trying to maintain was rising, and the distinct irritation of a public servant began to seep into his voice.
Of course. Just because they're the bodyguards of high-ranking figures or the strongest special forces doesn't mean they're cyborgs. Special forces, government spies—at the end of the day, they're just regular people who take shits, throw up when they drink too much, and peer under the sofa looking for the lost remote. And I've always enjoyed stripping the solemn masks off guys like this. It's a bad habit that usually just buys you resentment. But what can I do? It's fun.
"Hahaha."
"...."
Well, should I stop joking around now? Just as I was about to speak before the white-striped Yacha cracked my skull, he suddenly stared into empty space for a moment, then took a step back.
"...Please enter, Young Master."
"Huh?"
"The Family Head is calling for you. He says he will praise you."
Aha. So he was listening to the whole thing and just letting it play out. Dad's got quite the voyeuristic streak.
"Dad's the best."
"...."
I lightly ignored the stares of the Yachas, who looked like they were wondering what kind of crazy bastard I was. Stepping into Gaju Hall, I finally faced a welcoming sight.
"Welcome, son. It has been a while."
"Sure has."
"So..."
A massive man with wild, shaggy hair covering his eyes—a literal Dokkaebi of a man—smiled at me.
"Yes. What shall I praise you for first? Were you truly that starved for praise?"
"Goo-goo gaga. I reached Qi Circulation. You said you'd give me a mid-way reward, so hand over the elixir."
"You crazy bastard."
Kang Baek-jin's face crumpled at the sound of baby talk coming from a fully grown, robust man.
"Dammit!"
She had run away. Why? She didn't even know. Her emotions were out of control. Ever since she had been subjected to those harsh things by that man, she felt strangely unable to manage her expressions and feelings.
"....."
Her chest felt tight. To be precise, her head was dizzy and her chest was heavy, but she had nowhere to vent these bottled-up emotions. It would be more accurate to say she had no one to lean on. Normally, receiving such emotions would be the role of a parent, but her parents were utterly incapable of fulfilling such a role. She had no friends either. She viewed all her peers as potential competitors or subordinates. She looked down on those inferior to her and locked horns with those equal to her, so there was no way she could have a single true friend.
Until now, she had always succeeded living like that, so it hadn't been an issue. But now that she had taken a massive fall, Jeongha suddenly realized that there wasn't a single hand stretched out to help her up. A friend to share empathy and complaints with, a family to accept everything, even a lover to throw childish tantrums to.
As she dragged her unusually heavy footsteps to leave Heokgak Palace, she heard the voice she least wanted to hear right now.
"My, look who it is. Isn't that Jeongha?"
"Gang Sain."
"I've been hearing some nasty rumors lately. Have you been taking care of yourself? If you've become a mother, I was thinking of making you some mushroom porridge."
Her tongue dripped with insults disguised as concern. It was a mockery of Jeongha, who had been thoroughly taken by a man. Beside Gang Sain, a group of men and women stood in harmony, casting hostile glances.
Normally, she would have easily ignored them. But the reason those glances felt so much heavier today was...
"Hoho. Who would have thought the proud Jeongha would end up like this? Right, guys?"
"Seriously."
"Hey, Jeongha, do you think you could do it with me once too?"
Perhaps it was because, at one point, she could have belonged to their group. They were all at the Late Stage of Core Condensation, or Middle Stage cultivators close to the Late Stage. The so-called elite crowd. A step above the random rabble that used to fawn over Jeongha. In the past, they had even reached out to her, asking her to join them.
"...Piss off."
But she had refused. There was no particular reason. If she had to put it into words, she just didn't like mingling with people. Because she was perfectly fine on her own, and because of her characteristic arrogance, she had looked down on her peers as a step below her. These were enemies born of her past pride. As she grew a bit older, she realized that such relationships weren't healthy, but she still ignored them. She felt it was useless to try and fix it now. And the crack only widened, turning bystanders into enemies. Since then, her extreme binary view of dividing the world into either subordinates or enemies had only worsened.
Just ignore them like always.
If she just looked away, their gazes would vanish. So Jeongha turned her head as she always did, but she couldn't help her feet feeling heavier.
"So, are you going to become that man's concubine? They say children take after their parents, and it really is true. Ah! I don't mean to insult the Family Head, of course. Don't misunderstand."
"Why mince words, Sain? She just pretended to be so proud and noble, only to end up walking the exact same path as her mother. Pfft."
"My, look at her staggering. Last night's tryst must have been quite intense, huh?"
"..."
Her pace quickened. She knew she wasn't acting dignified, but she couldn't even muster the strength to maintain her dignity under the weight of their stares and tongues.
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
As she wandered aimlessly to escape their gaze, she felt her body growing cold. The sun was shining so brightly, there was no way she should feel cold. What was this?
Then, suddenly, a familiar man was standing in front of her. He was waving cheerfully. Naturally, it wasn't a welcome sight.
"What are you doing?"
"Just hanging out."
"You look tired. Want something tasty?"
In his gently waving hand, a white pill was visible.
"What is that?"
"A Qi Circulation Pill."
"??"
"I begged Dad and got it."
No, who did he beg, and what did he get? He gently waved his hand holding the Qi Circulation Pill. Following its movement, Jeongha's eyes swayed like a puppy looking at a treat. Soon, the man approached her, held out his hand, and said,
"Hand."
"?"
"Hand."
She held out her hand. And just like that, the Qi Circulation Pill was placed in her palm. It was something she had wanted so desperately, yet seeing it roll onto her hand so easily felt so foreign it lacked any sense of reality.
"Why?"
Why was he giving her this?
"You wanted to eat it."
"...."
"Don't want it? Then give it back—"
Shaking her head, she quickly stuffed the Qi Circulation Pill into her robes. She could let go of anything else, but her greed for power could never be sated. He naturally pulled her into his embrace and stroked her hair.
"This is what it means to be my woman. Easy to understand, right?"
"Bullshit."
"Shall we go home now?"
He naturally took her hand and led her. His intention of leading her to his house was transparent and cheeky, but feeling the energy of the Qi Circulation Pill in her robes, she felt she should at least play along this much. Fine. I'll hang out with you exactly as much as I've been paid. Besides, there was still her sister's mission to think about.