The Birth of Jigok-do

The hellish, merciless atrocities the Red Fang Gang committed against Wuyuan Pharmacy spread like wildfire, quickly sweeping past Gangwan Village and engulfing the entirety of Wuyuan County. Although the villagers had always known the Red Fang Gang to be a vicious Unorthodox sect, they had never expected them to go so far as to harm Wuyuan Pharmacy—an establishment renowned for its boundless charity. Because almost everyone in Wuyuan County had received help from the pharmacy's family at least once, the rumors burned even hotter, fueling a collective outrage.

Since then, Gakgwi and his Shadow Pavilion warriors had been fully deployed to hunt down the white-haired demons, while the rest of the Red Fang Gang focused their tense attention on their war with the Black Summit Sect. Day after day, turf wars erupted between the Red Fang Gang and the Black Summit Sect across the county, leaving countless wounded and dead in their wake. Naturally, Wuyuan Pharmacy, which would have treated these casualties, had long since been reduced to charred ashes. The sole survivor, San Ireong, had vanished into thin air along with the bodies of his fallen family. Consequently, Wuyuan County devolved into a chaotic crucible of pain-filled screams and terror-stricken eyes.

Even the small, quiet settlement of Yigeng Village was not spared from these grim tidings.

On a small wooden boat floating upon Yigeng Village's lake, beneath the shade of a leafy tree shedding its foliage, a man and a woman sat facing each other. Both wore bamboo hats draped with long white veils that completely concealed their faces and hair. Atop the tranquil waters, the man in the dark bamboo hat, Unwol, spoke in a heavy tone.

"Is that story true?"

Sitting opposite him, the woman in the white bamboo hat, Biwol, replied.

"Yes. Wuyuan Pharmacy has fallen to the Red Fang Gang."

"Was it... because of us?"

"That played a part, but the decisive factor seems to be that they treated the wounded of the Black Summit Sect."

"..."

Unwol slowly brushed a hand over his face, lost in thought.

I should have been more careful. Heading straight to the pharmacy right after causing that scene was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mistake...

"Do you know what became of them?"

Biwol answered in a voice devoid of all emotion.

"The fates of the physician and his daughter are unknown. Only the son survived, but he has vanished, and no one knows where he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠has gone."

"..."

Unwol's expression slowly contorted into a grimace. A suffocating wave of guilt and self-loathing crept up his spine. He recalled the words San Suhwa had spoken to him just a few days ago.

—There is a saying, Hojieojimong. It means that life is like a butterfly's dream.

Her words, which had brought peace to his chaotic mind. The polite, upright physician whom he had respected. San Ireong, who, despite his grumbling, had felt so much more real than a mere game NPC. Those three could have been the vital anchors keeping Unwol's sanity from drifting away in this twisted world. But the realization that he had lost them because of his own actions sent his mind into a chaotic spiral.

"Ha... Haha."

Watching him, Biwol asked quietly.

"It seems you grew quite fond of them."

"What?"

"A god dwells within infinite time, my Lord. You must not give your heart so easily to mortals you have known for a mere few days."

"Do not speak of them so lightly. They were of great comfort to me."

At that, Biwol raised her voice slightly, a rare trace of frustration leaking through.

"The ones who can truly aid you, Lord Blood Demon, are none other than us. Please, look upon our devotion as well."

"..."

Unwol felt a suffocating tightness in his chest. He knew this world was just a game, and that if he ran rampant as she wished, they would eventually be annihilated by the Player. But even if he explained this, she would never believe him. The only people who had offered him genuine warmth—regardless of whether this world was a game or reality—had met a tragic end, and the thought burned him from the inside out.

Right then, an ominous thought flashed through his mind.

If this was just for the "Good Route" anyway... I can probably find others elsewhere. Is there any need to cling to this place?

It was an incredibly dark and dangerous thought. To escape the painful truth and his own guilt, Unwol was trying to dismiss the San siblings and their father as "mere" game NPCs. Reducing living human beings to lines of code was a coping mechanism that chipped away at his remaining humanity—a highly perilous sign.

Before they knew it, the boat drifted to the dock. They stood up slowly and stepped ashore.

"Where are we going?"

When Biwol asked, Unwol paused for a moment before replying.

"...I do not know. I am not sure where I should go."

"..."

Unwol hesitated for a beat, then spoke.

"I must go to Wuyuan Pharmacy."

"I see."

"I can go alone. If you do not wish to accompany me, you may remain here."

"No. I will follow you."

With the setting sun at their backs, the two climbed the hill, left the village behind, and headed straight toward Wuyuan Pharmacy.

Crunch, crunch...

Beneath the dreary pile of soot, a boy covered in black ash, San Ireong, was biting his fingernails raw. Shattered by the helplessness of watching his family suffer at the hands of the Red Fang Gang and the bitter betrayal that no one had come to save them, his mind had completely fractured. He could not bring himself to leave the ruins of his incinerated home. The reason the villagers couldn't find any trace of San Ireong and his family was simple: no one could have imagined that the boy would crawl back inside the hollow, ash-choked shell of the burned-down pharmacy.

"G-grrk... g-gugug..."

He writhed on the ground, a bizarre, guttural rattle escaping his throat. It was the sound of overwhelming rage and resentment consuming him from the inside out, slowly eating away at his soul. San Ireong's entire body was covered in raw, bloody scratches. They were self-inflicted wounds, carved into his own flesh as he clawed at himself in his frantic, agonizing madness.

"Fa... ther..."

Through glazed, unfocused eyes, the boy stared at his motionless father. After being brutally beaten by the Red Fang thugs, his father's body had contorted in violent spasms before finally going limp. He had not stirred since.

"Sis... ter..."

The wound on San Suhwa's right eye had already begun to rot. Having lost far too much blood, her skin was a deathly, translucent pale, and her chest no longer rose or fell. The dagger had plunged too deep, piercing a vital spot.

Though San Ireong was the sole survivor, he could not accept the reality of his solitude. He knew instinctively that if his mind fully grasped this horrific truth, his already fractured sanity would shatter beyond repair. Thus, he remained in a state of dazed denial, unable to process what had happened.

Why? Why did this happen to us so suddenly? We only ever did good. We only ever helped people. Why is there no one left? Why has our life turned into this living hell?

Just then, a single word flashed through his mind.

Hell.

Yes. If there was a hell, it had to be better than this place.

Crack.

A charred wooden pillar snapped, sending a cloud of black soot into the air. As the wall crumbled into dust, the pale blue moonlight filtered through the gap. Beneath that cold light, two figures stood. A man and a woman, dressed in black and white, wore bamboo hats draped with long, flowing veils.

San Ireong stared at them through bleary eyes. When he realized they were Unwol and Biwol, his pupils dilated in shock.

"Y-you... you people..."

A horribly cracked, raspy voice barely squeezed past his throat. Watching the boy, Unwol flinched. A chilly breeze swept through, lifting the veil that hid Unwol's face and revealing his features. Unwol's crimson eyes were slowly darkening, shifting into his true black-red gaze.

At the sight of those terrifying eyes, San Ireong struggled to his feet on trembling legs and stumbled toward him.

"Because of you... because of you...!"

Biwol stepped forward to block the boy, but Unwol raised a hand, silently commanding her to stand down.

Thud. Thud.

Pitiful, heavy footsteps dragged across the ash as the boy closed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the distance.

"Why... did you... how dare you come back here..."

San Ireong's frozen mind began to burn, flooded by a chaotic torrent of emotions. Anger, betrayal, fear, despair—amidst the swirling vortex of negative emotions, a toxic, blinding rage bubbled up, rapidly expanding until it consumed everything else. The moment his wrath eclipsed his reason, the boy's body and soul were utterly swallowed by fury.

"Aaaaargh!"

San Ireong let out a primal scream and lunged at Unwol. Clenching his weak, scarred hands into fists, he struck out with all his might.

Thud.

It was a pathetic, feeble sound. To Unwol, whose vessel as the Blood God held the essence of countless lives, such a blow could not inflict even a scratch.

Thud.

Yet, still...

Thud.

Every time the boy's fist struck him, an unreadable expression washed over Unwol's face. Standing with his back to the moon, his face was cast in shadow, hidden from San Ireong's sight. Even if it had been visible, the boy lacked the courage to look him in the eye, so the outcome would have been the same. He was merely swinging his fists because his body was possessed by rage; deep down, an immense terror of Unwol still gripped his heart.

"Haaah! Haaaaah!"

With his vocal cords shredded, a wretched, metallic rasp—halfway between a scream and a wheeze—escaped his throat. Unwol stood like a statue, making no attempt to dodge, absorbing every single blow the boy threw. Soon, San Ireong's agonizing, desperate struggle drained his remaining strength. Desperate to vent his fury, the boy grabbed Unwol's collar and screamed.

"Haaah! Haaah!"

The blood vessels in his eyes had ruptured, sending tears of blood streaming down his cheeks. Slowly, the boy forced his head up, trying to look at Unwol's face. His wrath had finally devoured his fear. Yet, the veil and the low-brimmed bamboo hat still obscured the man's features.

Just then, a sharp gust of wind swept through, blowing Unwol's hat away. The boy gasped as he finally saw Unwol's face. His dark red eyes were twisted in an uncanny fashion, and his sculpted, handsome face was frozen in a bizarre expression—one that could have been a smile or a sob. Whether born of madness or sorrow, the trembling light in his eyes was chilling to the bone.

Even as primal terror radiated from that grotesque expression, the boy fueled his burning rage and demanded:

"Why... why didn't you... help us...?"

Unwol had promised to help them multiple times, yet when they needed him most, he was nowhere to be found. Unwol knew this truth better than anyone.

As Unwol stood trembling, multiple presences approached from behind.

"I knew they'd show up."

"See? I told you those demons had some connection to Wuyuan Pharmacy."

Biwol turned her head. Emerging from the shadows were Red Fang Gang warriors clad in crimson robes. Swords drawn, they glared at Unwol and his companion with palpable tension.

"Careful. That's the demon who uses the Absorption Demon Art."

The leader of the Shadow Pavilion squad kept his eyes locked on Unwol, his guard fully raised. The six Red Fang warriors slowly closed the distance, weapons at the ready.

"Yield, demon! Dozens of our Red Fang warriors are on their way. No matter how powerful your Absorption Demon Art is, you won't leave this place alive! Surrender quietly, and we might spare your life!"

"..."

"You bastard! Do you think our Red Fang Gang—!"

"Enough."

Unwol's voice, sounding utterly bizarre and unnatural, crushed the atmosphere.

"That is enough."

In that voice—which sounded simultaneously sorrowful and ecstatic—the grief slowly evaporated, replaced by a chilling sense of amusement.

"Indeed. I did say I would help."

Drip.

A single drop of crimson blood fell from Unwol's hand.

Drip, drip.

Starting with that single drop, a torrent of blood began to seep from Unwol's body, soaking the ground beneath him. The scarlet tide rapidly expanded, swallowing the surroundings as a crimson mist rose into the air.

While everyone watched in breathless terror...

Ssssshh.

The scarlet wave surged forward from behind Unwol, instantly spreading beneath the feet of the Red Fang warriors. Startled, the warriors tried to leap back, but their feet were glued to the blood as if gripped by invisible hands.

"Y-you bastard! What kind of sorcery is—!"

The squad leader panicked, trying to scream, but—

Spurt!

Countless crimson spikes erupted from the pool of blood, impaling the Red Fang warriors through their chests and limbs.

"G-gah!"

"Aaargh!"

"Screeech!"

In an instant, the warriors were hoisted into the air, skewered like insects on the bloody thorns. Slowly, their flesh began to dissolve into the crimson fluid, leaving behind nothing but empty robes as their bodies melted away. Thick red smoke billowed upward, dyeing the pale blue moonlight in a bloody hue.

Beneath that crimson glow, Unwol's lips stretched into a wide, terrifying grin. He looked down at San Ireong and asked:

"I shall grant you my aid now."

His sinister voice whispered into San Ireong's ear like a hypnotic spell. The boy slowly raised his head, staring into those eerie, glowing red eyes. The moment their gazes locked, the boy slowly parted his lips.