The Fading Shards of Humanity
Someone suddenly burst into Wuyuan Pharmacy.
San Dogang and San Suhwa spun around in surprise, their eyes widening at the sight of heavily wounded martial artists from the Black Summit Sect, bleeding profusely on the threshold.
"D-Doctor! Please, you must help us!"
"Ugh..."
A relatively unharmed Black Summit martial artist gasped for breath, desperately supporting his nearly unconscious companion on his back.
Under normal circumstances, San Dogang would have lent a helping hand without a second thought. But now, the chilling threat of the Red Fang Gang flashed through his mind, paralyzing him with hesitation.
San Suhwa also watched her father anxiously, unable to step forward. Seeing their hesitation, the Black Summit martial artist cried out, his voice cracking with desperation.
"Doctor! I beg of you, please... at least save my brother...!"
Perhaps moved by the man's sheer desperation, San Dogang hesitated for a brief moment before his eyes hardened with resolve. He stepped toward the martial artist.
"Bring him inside first. I must examine his wounds properly."
"T-Thank you! We will never forget this debt of gratitude!"
San Suhwa looked at her father, her eyes filled with deep anxiety.
"F-Father..."
Helping the man carry the patient, San Dogang barked instructions to his daughter.
"Quickly, fetch the gold sore ointment, gotu kola, and the other herbs!"
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded firmly and rushed into the pharmacy's storage room.
San Dogang laid the unconscious martial artist onto a cot and quickly assessed his injuries.
"The trauma to his chest and arms is severe. I must perform emergency treatment immediately, so please wait outside."
"P-Please, Doctor... save him!"
San Dogang and San Suhwa threw themselves into treating the severely injured men. Even if their patients belonged to a ruthless Unorthodox gang, to the father and daughter, they were simply human beings on the verge of death.
I washed the blood from my hands and face in a nearby pond, then stared down at my reflection. My appearance was utterly alien, almost terrifyingly beautiful. It was a face that looked as if someone had sculpted it with meticulous, dark intent—porcelain-pale skin paired with chilling, crimson eyes.
As I released the blood energy I had been suppressing, my eyes—which had barely managed to mimic a human's—bled into a deep, pitch-black darkness, leaving only glowing red pupils. My black-red eyes stared back at me. No matter how one looked at it, I was a monster wearing the skin of a man.
"Heh..."
A low chuckle escaped my lips. It was bizarre. I felt absolutely no aversion to my first act of murder. If anything, as I absorbed their life force, I felt a hollow, aching void deep within my soul being filled. It was as if this body had been engineered solely to plunder human life.
I could feel the souls of the Red Fang Gang martial artists I had devoured slowly dissolving into my blood energy. Was this truly reality? Or was it merely a virtual story playing out according to a pre-determined script? Ultimately, it didn't matter. I was losing my grip on reality. With every passing second, I could feel the remaining shards of my humanity slowly chipping away.
Letting out a faint, hollow smile, I spoke to Biwol.
"The stories you told me earlier."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Are they all true?"
Could they not just be game lore?
Biwol remained silent for a moment before slowly asking, "What... do you mean by that, my Lord?"
"Haha, it is nothing. Just a passing thought."
After all, how could an NPC possibly know they were an NPC?
"Everything I have told you is the absolute truth."
"I suppose so."
I slowly stood up and looked at the sun dipping below the horizon.
"It feels so incredibly real."
"...?"
Biwol looked at me, a flicker of confusion crossing her face.
I asked her, my voice trembling ever so slightly.
"Biwol, I feel... a bit unstable. May I ask you one thing?"
"Please, speak, my Lord."
"What is it that I should do?"
"..."
Biwol stared at me in silence for a long moment before she slowly answered.
"You may do whatever you wish."
"Whatever I wish?"
She spoke with absolute, unwavering conviction.
"Lord Unwol—no, Lord Blood Demon. You are not a mere human; you are our god. If our god desires it, you may do anything. You possess both the right and the power to do so."
"..."
I slowly turned my head to look at her. Her black-red eyes gleamed with fanatical devotion as she stared straight into my soul.
"Do exactly as you please. In any case, there is no one in this world who can defy the will of a god."
"But I feel like... if I do that, I will never be able to turn back."
My inner ego shook precariously on the edge of an abyss. As if my fading humanity were desperately pleading for a lifeline, I asked her, "Can't you tell me something different? Just this once?"
Yet, her response was a whisper of absolute, chilling certainty.
"What is there to worry about, my Lord? You were born to be a god."
My breathing grew ragged, but I forced myself to pull together. I hurriedly turned my steps toward Wuyuan Pharmacy. Though our encounter had been brief, seeing that family brought me an odd, grounding sense of peace. I felt an urgent, almost desperate need to see them right now.
As I hurried away, Biwol's cold voice drifted from behind me.
"Are you going to that pharmacy?"
"...I feel like I must."
"I will follow you."
"No. I wish to go alone today."
"..."
Biwol slowly bowed her head in respect and remained where she stood. Leaving the fading sunlight behind, I climbed the ridge bathed in the crimson glow of the sunset.
San Ireong heard a massive commotion stirring in the village and strained his ears to listen to the passing gossip.
"Didn't that Red Fang Gang thug scream about a demon back then?"
"I heard it's a terrifying technique called the Absorption Demon Art..."
"Did you see those blood-red eyes? His hair was stark white, and his skin was deathly pale. It gave me goosebumps just looking at him."
The entire street was abuzz with the same terrifying topic. Driven by curiosity, San Ireong squeezed through the crowd gathered at a particular spot, only to freeze at the sight of the Red Fang Gang martial artists lying in pools of their own blood.
"Ah...!"
Two of the corpses had been decapitated, while the other two were shriveled like mummies, their limbs grotesquely contorted. It was an incredibly bizarre and horrifying sight.
"Th-this is..."
San Ireong recalled a book he had once stumbled upon in his father's study. There had been an illustration in it that looked exactly like these shriveled corpses. The text had described how a demon, who had plunged the Central Plains into chaos in the distant past, used a forbidden technique called the Absorption Demon Art to drain his victims dry. Since then, the tale of the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions uniting to eradicate the art had been passed down like a legend. Yet now, that legendary horror was unfolding right before his eyes.
To make sense of the situation, San Ireong listened closely to the whispers of the crowd. The descriptions they traded—the white hair, the pale skin—pointed directly to the man he had spoken with just this afternoon: Unwol.
The faint suspicion that had been budding in San Ireong's mind instantly crystallized into terrifying certainty.
I-I knew it! I knew there was something off about him! He was a demon?! He coaxed me with all those kind words earlier, and all the while...!
San Ireong turned to rush back to Wuyuan Pharmacy to warn his family, but he froze as a line of men clad in crimson martial robes marched into the square. They were the Red Fang Gang. They quickly surrounded the inn. After assessing the bloody scene for a moment, a man who appeared to be their leader stepped forward, swept his gaze over the trembling crowd, and bellowed.
"From this moment on, the Red Fang Gang is officially at war with the Black Summit Sect! If anyone dares to side with them or offer them aid...!"
*Shring!*
He drew his sword, pointing it toward the sky as his voice boomed with a murderous threat.
"...you will face the absolute wrath of the Red Fang Gang!"
The voice sounded intimately familiar. San Ireong crept a little closer to get a better look at the speaker. It was Gakgwi, the Shadow Pavilion Leader of the Red Fang Gang who had threatened his father at the pharmacy. The distinct scar running across the bridge of the man's nose made him unmistakable. Gakgwi swept a final, menacing glare over the crowd before turning on his heel, vanishing into the shadows with his subordinates.
Panic seizing him, San Ireong bolted toward Wuyuan Pharmacy. He sprinted out of Gangwan Village and began scrambling up the hill. But as he reached the crest, he stopped dead in his tracks. Under the darkening sky, bathed in the pale moonlight, a lone woman stood by the edge of a quiet lake. Her white robes and silver hair shimmered softly, casting a ghostly reflection upon the still water.
It was Biwol, the woman who was always at Unwol's side. With the terrifying rumors of the demon fresh in his mind, San Ireong's heart hammered against his ribs. He lowered his posture, trying to creep past her without drawing attention. But Biwol's senses were far beyond those of an ordinary human. She quietly turned her gaze away from the lake, her eyes locking onto San Ireong's hunched, awkward figure.
Caught in her silent, piercing gaze, San Ireong flinched. He squeezed out an incredibly awkward, trembling smile.
"A-Ahaha... Hello there."
While the man named Unwol possessed a dry, almost playful air, this woman showed absolutely no emotion whatsoever. To San Ireong, she felt infinitely more dangerous than Unwol.
"..."
Biwol didn't offer a reply. She simply stared into his eyes. It was then that San Ireong saw her pupils gleam with a terrifying, black-red light.
He instinctively gasped.
"Ah!"
Fine red veins branched out around her eyes like cracks in porcelain. During the day, she had at least maintained a human facade. Now, she looked entirely like a monster.
"U-Uaaah!"
Overcome by sheer terror, San Ireong spun around and bolted up the hill as fast as his legs could carry him. Biwol merely tilted her head slightly, watching his retreating figure with cold indifference. After a while, as San Ireong's silhouette faded into the distance, the pale moonlight that illuminated her face was slowly swallowed by the gathering clouds.