Chapter 12: Always Like This
So In-gyeol wasn't happy with how things were going.
He was the young master of Somyeongjang, a clan that held considerable sway in Taeryeong County. And just recently, he'd broken through to the first-rate realm.
Using a celebratory feast as an excuse, he'd invited Baek So Hyang, the daughter of the Baek family he'd been quietly eyeing for some time.
The other young masters from Taeryeong County were eagerly chiming in, hyping him up.
So naturally, the star of this gathering was So In-gyeol himself.
But no matter how many jokes or tricks he pulled out, Baek So Hyang only offered polite smiles. The moment that gigolo-looking bastard showed up at the inn, though, her eyes were glued to him.
It was only natural for sparks to fly from So In-gyeol's eyes.
Yet the man's appearance was bizarre.
He'd come alone, without any escorts, carrying a sword—but he'd leaned it against a chair on the opposite side of the table.
'Not properly trained in martial arts, then.'
A true warrior always kept their sword within easy reach, ready to draw at any moment.
But propping it up on a chair across the table like it was just another guest?
From the looks of it, he was some no-name hack from a third-rate family, carrying a sword just to look cool.
And yet, when he glanced their way, he let out a sigh.
'Daring to sigh at me, So In-gyeol, son of Somyeongjang?'
With his arrogant temperament, So In-gyeol stormed right over.
But the man ignored every word, his eyes fixed elsewhere.
'Just as I thought.'
That sword was clearly just for show.
But then—
"The rotten stench is vibrating."
"...What?"
"Every time you open your mouth, the rotten stench vibrates."
"You bastard!"
So In-gyeol had picked the fight first with his nonsense, but his explosive temper got the better of him—he drew his sword.
In contrast, the man just fanned himself lazily with his fan.
The man—Sado Hwan—turned his head, met So In-gyeol's gaze, and spoke.
"Draw that, and you're dead."
The moment their eyes locked, So In-gyeol froze.
'What kind of eyes...'
Just from that glance, goosebumps erupted across his skin.
It felt like standing naked before a predator. Like death itself was crawling up his nape.
But So In-gyeol gritted his teeth.
Backing down here would shatter his pride. Even Baek So Hyang, who'd shown a flicker of interest in his first-rate breakthrough, would surely leave.
For a warrior, pride meant defying death itself.
"Try killing me, then!"
First-rate.
The realm where one wielded their weapon like an extension of their body, unleashing their martial arts without hindrance.
The stage where inner energy could be projected outward.
He couldn't form sword qi yet, but channeling energy into his blade massively amplified his techniques' power.
So In-gyeol drew up the inner energy slumbering in his dantian.
But—
'Urk?'
His energy wouldn't obey. The inner power that always flowed according to his heart technique's formula refused to budge.
He'd never lost control since reaching first-rate.
'It's like my energy's scared shitless—'
In that instant, Sado Hwan's face seemed to loom larger in his vision.
Emotionless, like gazing at an object. Icy as frost, yet profoundly aloof.
'I've heard of this!'
Back when he'd learned about martial realms, a passing comment from his father.
Peak experts and above could unleash their aura to paralyze lesser foes, preventing them from circulating their inner energy.
Overwhelmed by immense pressure, weaker energies couldn't move.
'That's... killing intent.'
Terror and shock filled So In-gyeol's eyes.
No way—this unknown young man had shattered the wall to Peak realm? A height barely reached by elite disciples of great sects?
In that moment, So In-gyeol's composure cracked. The forced inner energy scattered, disrupting his qi and blood.
"Kuhak—!"
Inner energy was the vast natural force drawn into the body, granting warriors the power to shatter boulders and leap rivers.
But now, that same ferocious power was ravaging him from within.
That was why So In-gyeol spat blood and collapsed.
'Item power's the best.'
[No idea what that means, but it worked, it seems.]
I stroked the Black Feather Fan back at my waist. Even without inner energy, subtle grooves inside let you release poison.
I'd loaded the handle with the acid lung poison Dok So Gong had left behind, and put it to use.
The Black Feather Fan was infamous for sparking bloodbaths and wars in the jianghu. That subtle and deadly.
He wasn't some Un Yeop Ja-level expert—just a local Taeryeong County blowhard. No way he'd notice the covert poisoning.
The result was exactly as I'd seen.
'He probably thinks I crushed him with my aura.'
Pa Cheon muttered in disbelief.
[Making him mistake poison for killing intent. You're a real piece of work.]
Killing intent only worked properly around Peak realm, where you could materialize qi. Infusing aura with energy to pressure the foe.
They called it charisma or instinct, but it was just overwhelming with inner power.
That's why scrubs couldn't stand against masters.
In my case, it was the acid lung poison disrupting his energy—but staring intently for effect made So In-gyeol fall for it hook, line, and sinker.
His face was pale as a ghost, like he'd caked on powder. Still kneeling and trembling, he'd taken a serious internal injury.
This was mercy, really. In wuxia tropes, a challenge like this usually cost an arm. Internal wounds? A few months' rest with spirit pills, and he'd recover. Much better deal.
...Well, even if I was body-swapped into Sado Hwan, pretending to be him, my mind wasn't a murim native's. So yeah, expected.
"Big brother—!"
Finally, the sycophants who'd been ogling from afar leaped up.
They looked ready to draw swords any second.
"How dare you to Brother So!"
"What sorcery is this?!"
Murim folks always cried "sorcery" at anything they couldn't comprehend. Bad habit.
But I'd seized control. They talked big, but flinched at my gaze.
I lifted my teacup, turning away dismissively—as if they weren't worth my time.
After a sip, I said softly,
"Choose."
"What?"
"Drag him to a physician and save his worthless life."
I set the cup down with a clink.
"Or lose your heads here."
My words made the thugs gulp loudly, throats bobbing.
Bluff, of course.
If even one drew and charged, I'd lose. I'd barely scrapped in real life.
Sure, Sa Wol and Tak Horak were around.
Sa Wol especially would appear if I called—she'd noticed the commotion.
A Peak expert like her, hiding and watching.
'But if Sa Wol steps in, everyone here dies.'
No traces of the cult allowed—she'd go full murim massacre mode.
Then it'd be fugitives, not just Un Yeop Ja connections. These guys seemed like local big shots.
'So back off already.'
Luckily, they helped So In-gyeol up and fled the hall.
"You'll regret this!"
Dropping the classic line, of course.
But one of their group—a woman—didn't follow. She approached, skirts swishing dramatically.
"Ahem, ahem."
She stood before me, fake-coughing. Like she wanted the seat.
I stared silently until she spoke.
"I'm Baek So Hyang of the Taeryeong Baek family."
Giving lineage and name? Clear seat request.
But uninvited company? No thanks.
Fate could bring fortune—or disaster.
Obviously the girl So In-gyeol was desperate for. Let her sit?
'Horde shows up by morning.'
Disaster confirmed.
Even now, I was a bit worried.
Classic wuxia cliché.
The guy who yells "You'll regret this!" always returns with backup. "He beat me up!" and all.
A typical protag would crush the mob for sweet revenge. Not me.
Somyeongjang, Baek family? Not worth mentioning in the novel.
'Baek So Hyang's name rang a bell, but...'
Probably a namesake. Nothing like that Baek So Hyang.
So my response was set.
"Get lost."
"Pardon?"
"I said scram. Deaf?"
Baek So Hyang paled in shock, then clenched her fists, trembling.
Not easy being rude to a stranger, but necessary.
She spun on her heel and stormed off.
"Whew."
[You've been like this since last time. Impressive, you demon.]
'Praise? From you?'
[Means your skin's thick as hell.]
'Survival's on the line. Gotta do what it takes.'
Two ways to survive this brutal Murim Returner world.
First: acting.
Acting was solid. Hell, I was more convincingly Sado Hwan than the real deal.
Issue was, circulating inner energy from his technique sometimes flooded me with cocky bravado bordering on bluff.
Maybe Pa Cheon got role-drunk from "that technique" too.
'Gonna need to research it.'
Anyway, I had to play the powerhouse, so bluffing was key. Worked out.
Can't bluff while shaking.
Second lifeline: information.
I alone knew piles of secrets at this point. My head was a map crammed with fortunes and treasures.
'Essential treasures for Sado Hwan, super-peak powerhouse, to survive.'
Some scattered across the jianghu, others buried in the cult.
Not just treasures—characters' secrets would empower me too.
Info gap: possessor's privilege.
Like secrets about Sado Hwan even Pa Cheon didn't know.
This sword had no clue what technique its original owner—true Sado Hwan—had cultivated.
Pa Cheon had no idea.
The divine art he'd mastered was none other than the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, said to be permitted only to the Heavenly Demon.
Pretending to be the Heavenly Demon