Chapter 76: Cheol Mu Geuk
The Iron Family was a clan made up entirely of blacksmiths.
As such, the grounds of the Iron Family echoed constantly with sounds like clang, grunt, or boom!—the clamor of things colliding, shattering, and exploding. These noises didn't even distinguish between night and day.
"Those with weak minds often fall into heart demons just from hearing the Iron Family Sound."
That was how the Iron Family folks described it. And it was only natural for heart demons to strike. If noises louder than upstairs neighbors drilling in the dead of night kept you up, who could sleep properly?
Of course, Cheol So Pyeong explained this with overflowing pride on his face.
"I hear the Iron Family ranks its members by 'craftsman' grades. Is that right?"
"The young master of the Kwak Family knows his stuff. That's correct."
While other clans based their hierarchies on widely accepted martial prowess rankings in the jianghu, the Iron Family divided ranks by blacksmithing skill.
They categorized talent into five tiers: Heavenly, Dragon, Earth, Tiger, and Human. Each level determined the clan's assignments for its members.
"I'm a Tiger-grade blacksmith myself."
Being the fourth of five tiers didn't make it anything to scoff at. Even Human-grade smiths could supply weapons to prestigious jianghu clans, and Tiger-grade meant crafting near-masterpiece blades with ease.
Of course, Earth-grade and above entered another realm entirely. That was when they could truly forge treasure artifacts.
"Then the Iron Family head must naturally be a Heavenly-grade blacksmith."
Kwak Jeong said.
"No."
I shook my head and replied.
"The family head is Dragon-grade."
"...You know your stuff, Lord Sado. That's right. My father is a Dragon-grade blacksmith."
"Does that mean there's no Heavenly-grade smith in the family?"
"We evaluate absolute skill, not relative."
Cheol Mu Geuk was undoubtedly a once-in-a-generation talent. He possessed a delicate, beautiful sensibility that belied his age, and his artisan spirit was legendary.
Yet even he had been stumped by the final hurdle to Heavenly-grade for decades.
Cheol So Pyeong alternated glances between Kwak Jeong and me as he spoke.
"Best not to mention Dragon or Heavenly grades in front of Father. He'll bellow that you're disturbing him even if I brought you here... and lately, that fiery temper's gotten worse."
His words sparked a realization in me.
In the original Murim Returner, he never reaches Heavenly-grade and exits early due to a heart demon.
Early exit meant death. By the time the original protagonist Mu Jin returned to the Divine Cult after three years, Cheol Mu Geuk was already gone. There was even a scene where they marveled, "This must be Cheol Mu Geuk's final work?!"
If he's gotten more sensitive lately, he might already be slipping into a heart demon.
If I could solve it—or at least provide a clue...
Getting the family head's seal would be a piece of cake.
Of course, I couldn't just charge in recklessly or act overconfident. But I trusted my fate as the protagonist.
All the geniuses I'd encountered so far had leveled up on their own from a single offhand comment. Cheol Mu Geuk might be old, but he was surely genius stock too. He'd grasp the clue somehow.
...That's what I thought. Until I actually laid eyes on him.
The Iron Family's ideal was a bald, muscle-bound giant. A hulking frame that seemed to have muscles even in the brain, paired with a bold personality—that was their type.
But Cheol Mu Geuk was different.
...This is Cheol Mu Geuk?
He was tall. But slender. No bald head, no rippling muscles. He wasn't shirtless like the others either.
His arms were so thin, you wondered if he could even lift a hammer. He gave off the vibe of a neurotic old professor.
If this weren't a forge, no one would peg him as a blacksmith.
But his eyes burned with unyielding intensity. Kwak Jeong shrank back, turtling his neck the moment their gazes met.
[His martial arts might rate as first-rate at best, lower otherwise... How does he radiate such presence?]
Even Pa Cheon was impressed.
It was as if Dragon-grade meant eyes that could shoot dragonfire.
Maybe it was the gaze only those who'd reached that realm could muster.
Info on times and places the original protagonist never experienced is always spotty.
Cheol Mu Geuk's name popped up often, but never his looks or personality. No wonder I was caught off guard.
Still, his aura didn't intimidate me. As I channeled the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, a surge of sublime arrogance welled from my chest.
I lifted my chin and locked eyes with him. Our stares clashed for a long moment.
"Who the hell are you?"
"The Sado Family head, Asura Apostle Sado Hwan, and the Nine Yin Kwak Family's young master Kwak Jeong have come to pay respects to the family head."
"I'm Sado Hwan. I've come with a message to deliver."
"I see."
Cheol Mu Geuk nodded without even glancing our way.
"Then get lost."
"...Pardon?"
"I clearly told you not to let anyone disturb me, no matter who, young master."
"But Father."
"Don't make me say it twice."
With that, he sat back at the bellows. Treating us like we were invisible. Normally, Pa Cheon would've exploded, and even I wouldn't have enjoyed the dismissal.
But.
My eyes happened to catch his fingertips caressing the bellows handle, and I felt a profound awe. They were crusted with scabs.
Traces of wounds from heavy tools, rehealing before new ones formed, bursting and grinding away.
A man with hands like that...
Only then did I notice the corner of the forge. A few bookshelves crammed with volumes worn from endless handling.
Then.
My salesman-honed instincts, supercharged in this Murim Returner world, kicked in. The ability to read people. True to wuxia cliché, characters were often archetypal—and this was no exception.
"...Lord Sado."
Cheol So Pyeong approached, face etched with embarrassment.
"Kwak Jeong."
"Yes."
"Return to your family. It wouldn't do for someone with your shallow arts to be exposed to this extreme yang energy."
"What about you, M-Master?"
I turned to Cheol So Pyeong.
"I need a chair."
"...Of course."
He nodded, as if it were familiar.
"Anything else?"
"Ah, some tea too, please."
"Got it."
Cheol So Pyeong glanced warily at his father, fetched a chair and teapot, then left after Kwak Jeong bowed to me and departed.
I positioned the chair squarely in Cheol Mu Geuk's line of sight—somewhere he'd spot me lifting his head from work.
As I sat, Pa Cheon spoke up.
[What the hell are you planning? A chair, out of nowhere?]
By my judgment... Cheol Mu Geuk is the quintessential artisan.
[Dragon-grade blacksmith? Obviously.]
Not that. In subculture, artisans are prickly weirdos, but they all share one trait.
They value grit above all.
I'd pegged him as a genius. But his build screamed otherwise. No slender frame swings a hammer like that.
His scabbed fingertips and grimy books told the tale.
Cheol Mu Geuk was ordinary.
A genius wouldn't have callused hands from hammers or ink-stained books from endless study. They'd just produce results effortlessly.
Murim Returner teemed with geniuses. Ordinary folk had no place. Not just in martial arts—cases like Cho Ryang with special gifts, or blacksmith prodigies surely existed.
Yet to rise as head of Goe Mountain Iron Family—one of the Mad Demon Six Families—and Dragon-grade... the effort must've been monumental.
How immense his pride.
And the frustration of talent's limits blocking the next realm... crushing.
[So, show him your grit, and he'll bite?]
Exactly.
[How?]
Just sit here.
[...I've endured your yokai nonsense plenty, but this takes the cake.]
Wanna bet?
[...]
Pa Cheon clammed up.
Chicken. Punk.
I unbelted Pa Cheon and leaned him against the chair. Cheol Mu Geuk's eyes flicked to the sword, then away.
He resumed ignoring me, pumping the bellows furiously. The feeble flames roared to life.
Soon, scorching heat filled the forge. Ordinary folk couldn't last a minute.
The Iron Family's Ten Thousand Phenomena Sun Divine Art was extreme yang, so he seemed unfazed. Or just inured over decades.
I had the almighty Heavenly Demon Divine Art. Forged from the First Heavenly Demon's will to fight endlessly, it built an unbreakable body against harsh environments—even if I couldn't project qi outward.
Minus the qi projection issue, the body's top-tier.
But I didn't channel it.
I just took the heat bare.
Sweat beaded on my nose instantly.
[No body here, but... isn't this torture-level?]
Probably.
[What're you doing? Circulate the Asura Transformation—no, Heavenly Demon Divine Art! You trying to wreck yourself?]
Pa Cheon cherished his vessel obsessively.
Endure it casually, and it's not grit. Struggle through—that's grit.
[...You're insane.]
Thanks. And besides.
I savored the sweltering waves.
Body's been stiff. Needed a good roast.
Back in sales, sweaty sauna nights soothed overtime fatigue. No chance since dropping here—perfect timing.
[...Sauna? What kinda place?]
Light a fire under the floor, lie on top.
[We call that torture.]
Not for Koreans.
[Yokai, now I'm curious about your world.]
Whatever Pa Cheon said, my K-soul welcomed the steam.
Thus began my bizarre cohabitation with Cheol Mu Geuk.
Pretending to Be the Heavenly Demon