The Man Who Lives by Dying

I started the morning by pumping Dan Yuha's ass full of cum. By now she'd become a convenient woman I could fuck whenever I pleased. I used her every single day, and still showed not the slightest hint of growing tired of her.

I should probably get around to curing Dan Yuha's poison soon.

The method for neutralizing the toxin in her body wasn't complicated. The hard part was knowing the method in the first place. Since I knew the original novel, I could easily detoxify even the Poison Palace's deadliest venom.

First things first — buy the ingredients.

Detoxifying a Poison Palace toxin required a handful of materials. Nothing expensive like spiritual elixirs or inner cores — just things you could pick up at any marketplace. I headed out first thing in the morning.

The house I'd newly purchased sat in a neighborhood of high officials and wealthy merchant lords, a quiet suburb a short walk from the market. Not far — about half an hour on foot.

Having the market a little ways off was a drawback, but it meant the area stayed quiet and beggars never showed their faces. Security was decent. With government officials clustered here, even martial artists with nasty temperaments tended to leave the place alone.

The moment I arrived at the market, a clamor of voices battered my ears. There was a certain homey warmth to it, but it wasn't a sound I particularly welcomed. I took the shortest route, intending to finish my business and get out fast. My first stop was the apothecary.

"Licorice, turmeric, and goji berries, if you please."

"Fifteen iron coins."

I bought a few medicinal herbs, some clean water, and a bit of firewood. The ingredients I needed were remarkably simple.

I was about to head straight home when a rich, savory smell tickled my nose. It was drifting from the inn next door — something like roasting peanuts. My feet turned toward the inn of their own accord. It was lunchtime anyway. Might as well eat before heading back.

"Welcome, sir!"

A waiter who looked a good five years younger than me handled the greeting with practiced ease. I took a seat in the farthest corner. There was no menu; the waiter recited the offerings himself.

"We've got beef noodle soup, simmered with plenty of beef, vegetables, and noodles, and a duck dish topped with assorted nuts. Tea is free, and a cup of sorghum liquor is one iron coin."

"Bring me one of each."

The waiter gave me a quick once-over from head to toe — checking whether I was the type to eat and run. I didn't even ask the price. I just shoved a fistful of iron coins into his hand.

"Hurry it up. My stomach's about to eat itself. Keep the change."

"You must be a young master from some great trading house. I'll have it out right away!"

The waiter vanished like the wind. People really do hustle when you throw money at them.

While I waited for the food, I looked around the inn. At the table next to mine, two women with slender, athletic figures were having a meal. They weren't from Fairy Gate, but their well-trained bodies marked them as martial artists. Female martial artists weren't exclusive to Fairy Gate, after all.

"Honestly, what a wretched age. I heard the Murim Alliance got ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠turned completely upside down over that incident."

"Ugh, it's really grim. Is the Orthodox-Demonic War going to break out all over again? Master always said that war was hell itself."

"What the hell were those Demon Cult bastards thinking, pulling a stunt like that?"

The conversation between them was too interesting to ignore. Besides me and the two women, the inn had hardly any other customers — just one red-faced drunk who'd started early, and a taciturn man in a bamboo hat quietly eating beef noodle soup. Maybe that was why the two women talked loud enough for me to hear every word.

"Anyway, that means the Thousand-Tear Erotic Demon is still in Hubei. Gives me the creeps!"

"Given the situation, they probably don't have the luxury of worrying about a guy like him. It's unprecedented — personnel dispatched by the Murim Alliance dying under mysterious circumstances."

"But is the culprit really the Demon Cult? They've been keeping pretty quiet until now, haven't they?"

"I only heard this secondhand, but an investigator dispatched from the Wudang Sect performed autopsies on the Murim Alliance corpses. They said the wounds were unmistakably from the Demon Cult's Ten Blood Asura Sword. If the higher-ups said so, it must be true, right?"

"Hah... that's terrifying. We'll have to be careful on the roads at night from now on."

"Better not go out at night at all. Demon Cultists are cowardly and vicious. Best not to expose yourself to them unnecessarily."

Listening to the two martial artists, I pieced the situation together.

The Fallen Phoenix Prison wardens dispatched by the Murim Alliance were assassinated. And the Demon Cult is behind it? Wait... this was definitely in the original...

I recalled the original novel. The current timeline was probably about three years before Gong Woosun started his proper activities. I couldn't be certain of the exact date, because the original never specified a clear timeline — you had to reconstruct it from the major events. This incident had definitely been mentioned in passing through a supporting character's dialogue.

An attack on the Murim Alliance designed to sow discord between them and the Demon Cult. This incident ramps up the tension ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠between the two, and they nearly start a second Orthodox-Demonic War over it.

In truth, the faction that attacked the Murim Alliance wasn't the Demon Cult. The real culprits were the Shadow Moon Divine Cult. They were one of the extra-territorial factions sitting on the far edge of Xinjiang.

The Demon Cult was also based in Xinjiang, but the Shadow Moon Divine Cult occupied a remote corner hundreds of li from the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains, the Demon Cult's stronghold. In terms of power they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weren't even a tenth of the Demon Cult, but they possessed a peculiar martial art that let them copy other techniques. The copied arts only had half the original's power, of course, but they used that ability to pit the Central Plains against the extra-territorial factions, intending to swallow up every force that destroyed itself in the process.

Thanks to the protagonist Gong Woosun's efforts, the Shadow Moon Divine Cult's ambitions were exposed down to the last detail, and they were eventually wiped out. They'd been dropping hints since the early chapters of the original novel, but they didn't make a proper appearance until around the midpoint.

The Shadow Moon Divine Cult started scattering their breadcrumbs right around this point.

This might actually be a stroke of luck for Mo Seyeong. With the Shadow Moon Divine Cult soaking up all the aggro, a nobody like Chu Pawol had become someone she could deal with however she pleased. Of course, a far bigger headache had cropped up in his place.

A chair scraped. A thud.

The bamboo-hatted man who'd been silently eating his noodles stood up. A longsword well over a meter hung at his hip. Martial artist, no question.

Hm? A butterfly tattoo?

A butterfly tattoo peeked out from the nape of the man's neck. I glanced at it without thinking. The man turned and looked at me.

His chilling gaze locked with mine. This was someone with an unusual aura. A character from the original? I wasn't sure.

The butterfly tattoo is definitely the symbol of the Shadow Moon Divine Cult. Their believers all have a butterfly tattoo somewhere on their bodies.

So was this man a Shadow Moon Divine Cult spy? Someone they'd dispatched to monitor the martial world's movements? Or maybe he just wore a butterfly tattoo as a fashion statement.

He walked out of the inn without a word. Right then, the food I'd ordered arrived. It tasted every bit as good as it smelled. I'd have to come here often. I ate with gusto.

"That's delicious."

I left the inn stuffed. Then a man's voice caught me.

"You there, young master. Do you have a moment?"

It was the bamboo-hatted man who'd been eating noodles alone at the inn. High probability he was with the Shadow Moon Divine Cult. I tensed, raising my guard. A coppery stench drifted from behind him.

A character from the original? Someone like this in the Shadow Moon Divine Cult... Dammit, since the original is a novel, it's hard to tell just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from the atmosphere. But who was it that carried a longsword like that...

I hid my tension and opened my mouth.

"Who might you be?"

I prepared to use a skill at any moment.

He took off the bamboo hat, and the whole atmosphere shifted. The face beneath was unexpectedly that of an intellectual — a scholarly, almost bookish type. But a ghastly scar slashed from above his right eye down through it, giving him a sharp, dangerous air.

If someone this distinctive had appeared in the original, I'd know. I still didn't. Probably not a character from the novel.

Which meant I had to be even more careful. I knew nothing about his style.

He pointed to the nape of his own neck.

"You were startled when you saw this back at the inn, weren't you?"

"I just thought the tattoo was interesting, that's all."

"Hmm... is that so?"

He nodded and glanced around. This was a marketplace in broad daylight. Even in a martial world where brawls routinely turned into bloodbaths, there were few worse places to commit a murder.

Even if he had ill intentions, he wouldn't be able to act easily. And if he did attack out of nowhere, I could just counter. Of course, I had zero information on him, so I still had to be careful.

The bamboo-hatted man studied my face several times. Then he tilted his head, looking at me as if he'd seen something truly fascinating.

"That's all?"

"Pardon?"

"You just thought the tattoo was interesting?"

"That's right. Great hero, in what way have I given offense?"

"Hmmm..."

The bamboo-hatted man scratched the back of his head.

"That's a lie. I've never seen anyone as good at lying as you. Fascinating."

The moment he said it, my breath caught in my throat.

"Ghk—!"

My Lying skill had been seen through. A chill ran down my spine.

Of course, in the world of Supreme Sword Heavenly Immortal, overflowing with powerhouses who defied all standards, it wasn't strange at all that some master could see through my lies. You could line those people up and still run out of fingers. But running into one of them here was just my luck.

I even fooled Dan Yuha with this...!

"Hardly anyone in the martial world recognizes this tattoo, but every now and then someone from the outer territories does. Best to pull the weeds before they grow. The fewer variables, the better."

He said this as he walked toward me. The closer he came, the tighter my breath grew. I could barely even think. The bamboo-hatted man hadn't so much as lifted a finger, and he was already going for my life. And this was a market street with people streaming past in every direction.

"Who's behind you? Speak honestly and I'll send you off without pain."

He whispered it right in front of my face. It felt like a thick rope had coiled around my neck and was hauling me up. I couldn't even collapse.

"I-Ice... Pal...ace... Seol... So...ye..."

Even as my consciousness faded, I desperately worked my brain, feeding him a story that might catch his interest. Anything to find a gap. It seemed to work — his eyes lit up.

"Hmm. In this state your heartbeat's too unstable to read lies properly... but that's not a name just anyone would know. So, the Winter Honeysuckle of the North Sea, is it? They figured out we were behind this faster than I expected. We'll have to prepare on our end as well. Heh. Today's my lucky day."

The invisible force holding me up vanished. I couldn't keep my feet and crumpled to the ground. I watched his back as he walked away, footsteps unhurried.

I could hear the other people in the market murmuring as they looked at me. Even as my consciousness blurred, I thought desperately.

Who the hell is that guy?

The realm occasionally described in the novel — killing an opponent with killing intent alone. I'd just glimpsed a fragment of that realm. The bamboo-hatted man's trousers fluttered as he walked, and I caught another butterfly tattoo on his ankle.

More than one butterfly tattoo? Don't tell me... tattoos all over his body? Then that would mean...

There was only one person who had butterfly tattoos covering his entire body. A major villain who appeared in the original novel. Sa Geomyeong, Cult Leader of the Shadow Moon Divine Cult.

One of Sa Geomyeong's many aliases was the Scholar of a Hundred Faces. A master of disguise said to possess a hundred faces, he was always described differently in the original. In my fading mind, I realized I had been murdered by an absolute master.

Fuck. I knew this world was dangerous. Hah... this is some bullshit.

My consciousness faded. I could feel people murmuring as they approached. I desperately opened my inventory.

I can't die a dog's death here... That bastard... I'll make him regret not finishing the job...!

I tried to use an orange potion from my inventory. My consciousness was so hazy I could barely think. Some part of me knew that if I blacked out here, I was dead.

Or...ange... po...tion... u...

Through the fog of my fading mind, I saw a notification window.