Mistaken for a Celestial Maiden (1)

"...Where the hell is this?"

The words slipped out the moment I opened my eyes. I'd come to in a space I'd never seen before.

A prison? It sure looks like one.

Not iron bars, but wooden ones, and sunlight streamed in nicely. Still.

I replayed my memories.

This morning, I headed out, entered the gate, nearly got killed by Dobongpa's Nam Yeon while picking up a sword, fell down, went through some weird shit, beat the boss, cleared the gate, fought and beat Nam Yeon, then controlled the raging slaughter impulse by reining in the qi inside me...

And blacked out.

Now I was awake.

There was a window, so I peered outside.

Just mountains. No buildings or people in sight—would've been better intel.

But being smack in the middle of mountains was info enough.

Not some government office, at least.

County jail guards would be on flat land.

My stuff... gone. All of it.

Four valuables total.

Two swords. The mirror I picked up in the stone chamber where I encountered the boss monster, and the manual for the Honyeon Taeheo Muryang Jin-gyeong.

Plus the magic stones from clearing the gate.

They probably spawned neatly by the entrance. Did the Dobongpa martial artists collect them?

If so, I got "collected" with them, and this must be inside Dobongpa grounds?

I noticed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bandages wrapped around my injured eye.

They'd treated me, so Dobongpa probably wasn't planning to kill me right away.

But that wasn't grounds for relief.

Maybe they were just following procedure to execute me properly.

Bitch or not, Nam Yeon was a full Dobongpa martial artist.

From their perspective, even a bitch was their bitch. If an outsider killed her, they'd naturally want to punish them.

Break out?

But busting out rashly might be the wrong move.

What if they planned to punish me on paper then let me go, but I escaped on my own and complicated things?

Dobongpa was a righteous Daoist sect, after all. Maybe waiting patiently was the right play?

But Nam Yeon was a first-generation disciple, right?

Meaning she could be the sect leader's direct student.

Worst case, the sect leader—Jong In—was somewhere gnashing his teeth at me right now: "How dare you harm my beloved disciple...!!"

Scum and bitches often got favored inside their organizations.

"Haa..."

My head felt like it might split open. What to do?

"Ah!"

Right! Murim Gallery!

I focused my mind to pull it up.

The interface felt amazing after just a few hours away.

Awesome that I can do Gallery without real internet. Huh?

There was a message I'd sent. When did I send this?

I checked it and was floored.

"Gah...!?"

I remembered! Right before passing out, I'd barely escaped being swallowed by the Heukam Myeolgeop Jang's heart image, and in my hazy state, sent that message!

You idiot, Cheon Do-yeon, you madman!

This was bad. Really bad!!

One of Heukcheon Ma-gyo's bases. A place where sea salt mixed with the stench of blood. The ashen city, Incheon.

"...Hm?"

Heukcheonje, casually flicking blood from his hands, checked the message.

End.

"..."

Heukcheonje stroked his beard after the sudden insult.

He wasn't angry. Curiosity outweighed it.

Learned it alone? The Heukam Myeolgeop Jang?

He'd shared the incantation.

But as he'd warned, trying to learn a demonic art solo from that was insane.

Push through ignoring warnings, and you'd end up crippled 100 times out of 100.

That's what demonic arts were.

Heukcheonje hadn't expected anyone to actually try it.

Yet the message and context suggested they'd succeeded.

If true, terrifying talent. Kidnap them and raise as Ma-gyo martial artist?

One thing nagged, though.

Calling Heukam Myeolgeop Jang "depressing and resentment-filled."

But it wasn't. It was a domineering palm technique: shatter rocks blocking your path, mountains in your way, the world itself if it dared.

That was Heukcheonje's Heukam Myeolgeop Jang. No room for girly words like depression or resentment.

...Strange.

But ignoring it felt wrong.

Heukcheonje assumed the preparatory stance for Heukam Myeolgeop Jang right there.

Subtle purple-black demonic qi swirled. Signature of Jaam Singong, Heukcheon Ma-gyo's inner art.

"Hup!"

Familiar form. The sixth, Nakroe Chochwi—smashing downward.

But infused not with dispassionate clearance, but resentment.

BOOM!!

Asphalt shattered under his palm force, black dust exploding up.

No way...!

Far superior to what he knew. Movements flowed like water, power amplified.

Heukcheonje ran through all eight forms from the start.

Thud! Whoooosh—Bang! Booom... Bang!! Kurrrgh...!!!

The more he did, the clearer it became.

ㅇㅇ was right.

What insane talent is this!!

Heukcheonje's heart pounded.

Learning a demonic art alone was once-in-a-century genius.

But ascending to a higher realm he didn't know?

A genius? No—vessel of the Heavenly Demon!

"Haha, hahahahaha!!!"

Mad laughter burst from his lips.

He'd uncover ㅇㅇ's identity, no matter what!

And bring them here.

The Heavenly Demon.

This is seriously bad...

I'd never planned on ㅇㅇ being outed as me. More fun that way.

But now, it was a survival issue.

I'd pissed off Heukcheon Ma-gyo's leader!

From now on, keep True Murim Gallery's ㅇㅇ = real-life Cheon Do-yeon hidden at all costs.

In short: maintain anonymity.

But total secrecy was wrong too.

True Murim Gallery has folks who like me. Even powerhouses.

If I never told anyone, I'd miss ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their benefits.

Bad for survival.

So: Reveal to those who won't blab, but will help and keep my secrets.

Apologize to Heukcheonje later, politely. Slim chance of forgiveness, but no harm.

Time to ask Gallery for help on this mess.

Whoops.

Accidentally hit post mid-writing. Dumb post like this would get ignored—

Whoosh!!

Why!? What!?

The comments made it worse.

Huh? Why would I be dead?

Atmosphere like I'd died and come back.

To understand, I checked recent posts.

...Aha?

They'd misunderstood: thought I'd died and couldn't access Gallery.

Not wrong, really. I was in danger, nearly died because they didn't teach me the art properly.

Can use this somehow?

Especially Manggeum-geo.

Public opinion on the guy who "gifted" me Samjae Geombeop was vicious.

From my side, hard to just hate—his Samjae Geombeop saved me.

But.

Play this right, make Oseong Group's chaebol heir owe me? Turn him into a patron?

Lots to do.

First, handle now.

Comments exploded.

And then.

Oh. Alliance Leader.

A naughty thought hit.

What if I leaked her DM: "Tsk tsk, trying to learn arts easy-mode? Tsk tsk..."?

Her rep would tank.

Manggeum-geo gave Samjae Geombeop; Geom Hu just scolded without even that—worse hit maybe.

She knew it too.

I fired back right away.

Geom Hu herself stepping in?

Alliance Leader didn't command righteous sects.

But a polite request from her? Hard for Dobongpa's Jong In to refuse.

Hmm.

Tough choice.

Accepting meant True Murim Gallery ㅇㅇ = pink-haired prisoner in Dobongpa ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exposed.

Basically revealing to Geom Hu.

Someone helpful, beneficial, tight-lipped on anonymity.

Baekdu-pa leader and Alliance Leader Geom Hu—fit both?

Then, a Dobongpa martial artist entered the cell.

The woman who entered the gate with me?

By exit, she'd been savagely beaten by Joo Yeon like a dog in summer heat, context unknown.

Name: Joo Yeon, I remembered.

Unlike fierce Nam Yeon, she looked gentle, timid.

Joo Yeon approached and whispered.

"Celestial Maiden."

Celestial Maiden? Me?

Then I noticed: Joo Yeon was trembling in fear.

"You must escape now…!"

Her shaking hand pulled out a key.