Chapter 205: Inspector (2)
People often say it.
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
That you can tell what someone’s thinking just by looking into their eyes.
In that sense, a guy with half-closed eyes like this was straight-up cheating.
You couldn’t read a damn thing from them.
Especially when he dropped a bombshell like that without batting an eye.
……No way around it.
I had no idea how he knew in this world without CCTV, but denying it wouldn’t fly. Better to own up.
“You knew, then.”
“Of course I did.”
Hye-neung continued leisurely.
“Last night, the Precepts Hall was turned upside down by some ghost commotion. From the testimonies, it seems our troublemaker monk Gongjin was involved.”
Hye-neung’s gaze flew toward me. Well, with those half-closed eyes, I could only assume.
“Monk Gongjin has some amusing hobbies. And on a day when a guest just happens to visit? It all connects, doesn’t it?”
“……”
They said he had the “divine insight to see through everything from his seat.”
His tone was calm, but every word rang true.
He even seemed to know about Gongjin’s Muyoung Sintu activities.
“There’s a saying in Shaolin: Chul So-rim, Mang So-rim.”
“To leave Shaolin, you must leave Shaolin behind.”
“Do you know what was in the spot for the Thousand Changes Face Mask?”
“……The Heubseong Daebeop.”
“Correct. The Heubseong Daebeop. The Heavenly Demon’s forbidden demonic art that claimed countless victims long ago.”
Hye-neung went on.
“Long, long ago, a martial artist came to us. He said he needed power to prevent chaos in the world.”
I knew it instinctively.
This was a hidden tale even Murim Return hadn’t shed light on.
“He sought power, and the abbot of that time permitted it. But because of Chul So-rim, Mang So-rim, he had to leave behind something as world-shaking as the Heubseong Daebeop in exchange.”
“That was the Thousand Changes Face Mask?”
“The Thousand Changes Face Mask is even more terrifying.”
Fair enough.
Just think about it—the Thousand Changes Face Mask let you transform into anyone you pictured. Like when I turned into Gongjin, no restrictions as long as the gender matched.
What if you impersonated someone’s family or closest friend and stabbed them in the back?
In front of everyone watching?
Frame them for a crime and slip away leisurely.
Perfect setup for sowing chaos.
If the Heubseong Daebeop was an overt threat, the Thousand Changes Face Mask was a subtle poison rotting things from within.
“To be frank, I don’t trust the one who took the Heubseong Daebeop. Sorry to speak ill of a former abbot, but there it is.”
“Who was it?”
“I can’t say. If you truly wish for peace in the martial world, as you claim, heh heh heh.”
This monk wasn’t playing around.
Building up the suspense like that and then clamming up?
But who am I?
A Murim Return veteran.
Suddenly, everything I’d seen, heard, and experienced clicked together like puzzle pieces.
The words slipped out before I knew it.
“The Sword Saint.”
“……”
“The Sword Saint took the Heubseong Daebeop.”
I couldn’t explain why.
It was that flash of insight only a veteran possessor like me could feel.
And it solved every mystery.
I’d half-predicted it already, and Hye-neung’s silence was as good as confirmation.
Unlike in Murim Return, the reason he’d searched so desperately for a disciple.
Raise them with care, then devour them.
To endlessly pursue more power.
“Heh heh heh!”
Hye-neung burst into laughter at my words.
Not the light, meaningless chuckle from before.
Woooong!
Golden light began to envelop Hye-neung’s entire body.
Like a halo rising, a golden radiance unfurled behind his head.
Du-gwang—the head halo.
A phenomenon said to appear when a Buddhist disciple’s divine power touched the heavens. In simple terms.
[It’s a simsang.]
I know.
The halo soon shifted into the form of Buddha.
The seated Buddha’s left hand rested on his knee, right hand draped over with the index finger pointing to the earth.
No wonder they call him a divine monk.
A simsang manifested the martial artist’s life trajectory.
Hwarang’s was Buddha-like too, but just one among countless bodhisattvas or Buddhas.
No one but Hye-neung could embody Shakyamuni, the founder of Buddhism, as their simsang.
And the hand mudra he’d taken? Even more impressive.
Hangma Chuji-in—the Subduing Demons Touching the Earth Mudra!
The very pose Shakyamuni took to subdue all demons.
In other words, Hye-neung’s life was a history of vanquishing evil itself.
[You know your mudras well?]
The place I lived supported Buddhism.
Some of my family even became monks.
Still, what was with these Shaolin monks pressuring people with raw power every chance they got?
With his simsang manifested, Hye-neung spoke.
“How did you know that?”
“Just a realization.”
“……A realization?”
“Yes. That’s how much I desire peace in the martial world.”
So I can survive.
In response, Hye-neung expanded his simsang further.
[You okay? The pressure’s intense.]
Oh, worrying about me now?
[……I’ve always worried. Your body is mine, after all.]
You sure know how to sweet-talk. Anyway, I can handle it.
Hye-neung’s simsang felt like—
Half Sa Wol’s and half the Heavenly Demon’s.
Sa Wol’s “Radiant Sun” forced confessions of all sins.
The Heavenly Demon’s simsang was so overwhelmingly powerful it crushed souls without even flexing.
Hye-neung’s was exactly that blend, half and half.
In other words, I’m used to it.
To avoid detection by the Heavenly Demon, I’d trained enduring simsangs without using the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, leveraging Sa Wol’s.
That’s how I withstood it when the Heavenly Demon actually unleashed hers.
No matter how legendary Hye-neung was as a divine monk, he couldn’t compare to the Heavenly Demon.
She was the one who truly embodied “sole sovereign under heaven and earth.”
There was pressure, sure—but if Yi Se-ryeong’s was a perfect 10, Hye-neung’s was about a 7.
A bit stiff, but manageable.
“Truly so.”
When I didn’t flinch even as the Buddha’s form swelled with even greater aura, Hye-neung chuckled and withdrew his simsang.
Relief washed over me.
“Buddhism teaches that during ascetic practice and cultivation, enlightenment strikes like a flash one day.”
“You mean don-o, sudden enlightenment?”
“Heh heh heh. The young warrior from the East seems well-versed in Buddhist teachings.”
“You flatter me.”
“Your words ring true, young friend. Don-o doesn’t just come—it arrives after a lifetime of contemplation and practice. I can see how deeply you’ve pondered peace in the martial world.”
Not wrong.
My goal was precisely the peace and safety of the martial world.
Shameless.
It’s true, though.
I simply bowed my head slightly.
“You’re right, young friend. The original owner of the Thousand Changes Face Mask was indeed the Sword Saint.”
Chilling just thinking about it.
If that greedy hypocrite was its original owner……
How many incidents and frame-ups had he orchestrated?
Maybe that’s how a nobody like him rocketed to martial world superstar status.
With the Thousand Changes Face Mask, he could play any role.
Once alliance leader was locked in, it lost its use. He’d gotten everything he wanted anyway.
So he traded the now-useless Thousand Changes Face Mask for the Heubseong Daebeop?]
Pure Meng Wi-hak greed.
“Meng Wi-hak” meant overflowing with avarice.
“As I said earlier, I don’t trust him. Sure, he unites the righteous sects through the Martial Alliance to maintain peace…… but that’s not his ultimate goal.”
Hye-neung saw through the essence of Meng Wi-hak, whom others hailed as absolute good.
So how would he judge me?
“But you’re different. I can tell. You desire peace…… with desperate urgency, yes?”
Emotions.
That’s what Hye-neung discerned through simsangs, apparently.
Explained why he distrusted Meng Wi-hak.
Meng Wi-hak was greed incarnate in five letters, a glutton in four, avarice in two.
Compared to that, if Hye-neung sensed “desperation” in me.
Spot on.
I desperately wanted peace.
So I could survive this insane Murim Return world.
“A man with such a sense of mission can be trusted with the Thousand Changes Face Mask, heh heh heh.”
“……You mean that?”
“The abbot of Shaolin speaks with weight, young friend. Shall I take it back?”
“N-no, that’s not it.”
“Your desperation makes me think it’s safe to entrust the Thousand Changes Face Mask. In exchange, fulfill your inspector duties diligently.”
“Thank you.”
“Heh heh heh.”
Hye-neung smiled kindly.
[Things worked out?]
Halfway.
Officially approved, I could use the Thousand Changes Face Mask freely—but it was also a warning.
Shaolin would be watching for any funny business.
“I’ve kept you young folk too long. You may go.”
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
I offered a fist salute; Hye-neung replied with palms together.
The moment I left the abbot’s room, I spoke to Pa Cheon.
The Thousand Changes Face Mask aside.
There was something I absolutely had to do.
Let’s talk.
After Dong Yun left.
Hye-neung dismissed all attendants and lit incense.
Soon, a rich fragrance filled the abbot’s room.
“Heh heh heh.”
Hye-neung chuckled.
Dong Yun, the Eastern Sword Dragon.
At Shaolin’s abbot level, some things reached your ears whether you wanted or not, some truths revealed themselves.
The woman Dong Yun brought as his subordinate—
She was Gong-a’s sister.
Over a decade ago, when Gong-a entered the temple, Hye-neung was the one who accepted him.
Hye-neung was the only one in Shaolin who knew Gong-a’s true identity.
“He has someone of the Hwarang bloodline as his subordinate.”
Thus.
“Is his true identity from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult?”
But that didn’t quite fit either.
Hye-neung’s simsang he’d shown.
Dong Yun hadn’t noticed, but Hye-neung’s simsang could form various mudras depending on the situation.
Hangma Chuji-in.
He used that to destroy demonic qi in foes.
Yet with Dong Yun, there was astonishingly no reaction.
He hadn’t cultivated demonic arts.
No one from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult skipped demonic arts.
“Or is he truly from the East, and took her in by chance?”
His true nature was impossible to pin down.
An untrustworthy man.
But it didn’t matter.
“Namu Amida Bul.”
Hye-neung wasn’t about impartial justice.
He simply didn’t trust humans.
No trust meant no expectations, allowing fairness and equity to all.
But there was one thing Hye-neung did trust.
Emotions.
At that moment, Dong Yun’s emotions had been genuine.
“Whoever you are, I’ll stake on those emotions. Heh heh heh. Perhaps he’s the hero he claims.”
A fierce glint flashed in Hye-neung’s wide-open eyes, shadowed in the dim room.
Pretending to Be the Heavenly Demon