Faceless Demon Lord (3)
The Faceless Demon Lord was a figure shrouded in veils upon veils. Even in the novels, neither his true appearance nor his personality were ever properly depicted. All that existed were rampant rumors—the chilling tales that the world itself would split in two the moment his horns gleamed.
I recognized him at once, of course, thanks to the mask. The devilish mask with its horns could only be worn by the Faceless Demon Lord, supreme sovereign of the masked ones.
With his personality a complete unknown, it was only natural to feel tense. The blade-hand hovering inches from my throat could pierce it at any second, and that wasn't lost on me. I wasn't some martial arts master. I didn't know a single technique. I was just an ordinary guy who had to play dead if a peak expert said "die."
But I'd learned a few things after months in this martial world. Even a powerless nobody like me—even if I had to grovel and pretend to die—could get by if I kept my wits about me. The murim wasn't some bloodbath overrun by mindless killers. At its core, it was a place where people lived. Sure, unorthodox sects had their share of random murderers now and then, but even orthodox ones didn't shove their justice down every stray dog's throat on the street (though some probably did). So even demonic cults were fundamentally human. Not devils stripped of all reason, drowning only in killing intent and malice. They could be reasoned with. Especially if they were customers coming to my convenience store.
Most folks who found this place came seeking rare goods unavailable anywhere else. The Faceless Demon Lord standing before me was no doubt the same.
"Can't a non-masked one wear a mask?"
I tried starting a conversation.
"As if. Wear as many as you like. But if that mask faces me, it becomes a problem. To us, facing a mask head-on means settling matters of life and death."
I genuinely hadn't known that. There was a rule like that?
"Hiding your face means hiding yourself. No trust there from the start. That's why we kill anyone who charges at us with a mask on. It's the masked ones' rule. That's why we always show each other our profiles."
I quickly turned my head just a bit. The Faceless Demon Lord could have killed me in an instant but held back. He'd even asked directly: why was a non-masked one wearing a mask and staring him down? He'd given me another chance.
If he'd truly believed I was one of the masked until the end, my head would be rolling across the convenience store floor by now.
"Everyone who's charged at me masked has died. Are you one of them?"
I shook my head furiously.
"N-no, I'm neither! I'm not one of the masked either. I really didn't know!"
"Hmph. Then why the mask?"
I yanked the mask off my ear in a flash. His eyebrows twitched.
"Th-this isn't a mask. Well, broadly speaking it is, but the purpose is totally different."
"Purpose?"
"You saw me coughing earlier, right? It's like a barrier to stop spreading sickness."
He pondered for a moment, then finally withdrew his blade-hand. My tensed-up body went limp. Felt like I'd shaved off ten years.
As the oppressive demonic aura lifted, Yoo Hwa-yeon and Hwa Hyo-seon could finally catch their breath.
"What a strange contraption. This scrap of cloth blocks sickness?"
"And that's not all! It stops bad breath too. The fabric's thin but sturdy, so it's easy to breathe through, doesn't get hot in summer..."
I explained eagerly. To drive home that it wasn't a mask. To prove it served a whole different function.
Then the Faceless Demon Lord chuckled softly.
"I had my doubts, but the pitch is solid enough."
Muttering to himself, he snatched the mask from my hand.
"I'll take all of these."
"Just... like that?"
"Were you expecting money or something?"
The eerie glare pouring from the mask's eyeholes kept stabbing at my heart. But who am I? A veteran top-tier merchant who turns the customer's demands into opportunities for extra profit.
"Of course we take money!"
At my bold declaration, he tilted his chin up, as if to say, "Go on, let's hear it." I nodded and pressed on.
"A product's price reflects its value. Sure, if you shove a blade in my face and take it, I can't stop you—but I won't just sit idle."
"Oh? And what can you do? Kill you and take everything here. Give me one reason I shouldn't."
I swallowed hard, nerves on edge. Am I really doing this right? Yeah. We're all just trying to eat and survive—why should you get it for free?
My legs trembled with fear of death, but I had a plan.
"Simple. Kill me, and no more masks. Once they're worn out or torn, you can't reorder them. Isn't that why you're here?"
Know your enemy and know yourself: victory in every battle. No way the demonic cult's sovereign would act like a petty thief chasing short-term gains. Not after living longer than me.
"Hahaha! Fearless enough to speak your mind before me. The innkeeper's been keeping this gem to himself!"
I eyed him curiously as he burst into hearty laughter.
"Kill you, and no steady supply of masks that keep you cool in summer, block sickness, hide your face, and breathe easy? That's your point?"
"Y-yes..."
"I wasn't planning to steal them anyway. Just curious how a guy with no internal energy has run this place unscathed. For us, steady quality goods trump money. You seem a bit cocky, but trustworthy enough."
Phew. Dodged a bullet. Lady Luck smiled on me.
"But don't think it'll always work. If the world bent to your whims, it'd be paradise, not reality."
...Yeah, pure luck. Looking at him again reminded me: the murim was dangerous. Yoo Hwa-yeon and Hwa Hyo-seon were getting stronger daily, but time limits existed. If a monster like this—especially one with malicious intent—came to wreck shop, we'd be goners.
Time to bolster the store's defenses. Maybe borrow the might of someone untouchable by anyone.
It all depended on how I played it.
"No worries on the supply, right?"
"N-none at all. As long as I'm alive. Haha..."
He pointed to the stack of masks in the corner.
"All of these?"
"A thousand?"
"Yes."
He nodded.
"But you already have a mask. Why buy these?"
He stared at me, then placed a hand on his own mask. What now?
Before the thought finished, he undid the strap at the back of his head and slowly lowered it.
I was stunned. I'd heard he never took it off.
The face revealed was handsome, no exaggeration. But the problem was...
"Your face..."
Red. Extremely so. Greasy shine, severe acne. Thick sweat beaded on his forehead and between his brows, dripping onto the store floor.
"No one's seen my face but the Cult Leader."
I gulped. Can he show me?
"Turns out masks don't breathe well. Tried countless ones, but this chronic issue persists."
Made sense—wearing a hard mask year-round would do that. I could guess the other masked ones' faces without seeing them.
"Hope your masks work."
It sounded like "or else." But I was confident. Modern masks were worlds apart from murim's thick, stuffy ones—material and all.
"Guaranteed. Top quality."
"Good enough."
He donned his mask again and headed out.
"Deliver straight to Face Guests Forest. Payment there."
"Yes, sir! Safe delivery guaranteed!"
First deal with the demonic cult. I'd been wary at first, but he'd fixed my illness and cleared inventory to boot. Beneath it all, the Faceless Demon Lord cared for his masked comrades' skin.
Maybe he's a good guy? Me, calling a demonic sovereign that. Ironic, but that's how it felt.
After he left, I couldn't contain my jitters. A thousand masks: two gold ingots and fifty silver taels. Sold in one go.
Now, delivery loomed. The demonic cult sat at the Central Plains' northern fringe—local bandits wouldn't cut it. And safeguarding the payment on return? Needed planning.
Only one to discuss this with.
I headed to Manokru. The gatekeeper recognized me instantly and led me to Cheon Hyang.
"Jung-hyun! Coming in person! This way, please."
She looked thrilled. Long time no see.
She took my hand, leading me to her room. A pleasant scent wafted as I entered.
"Hee-hee. The day I bring Jung-hyun to my room. Overwhelmed with emotion."
"How've you been?"
"Since that rejection? Let's say I've been pining."
She smiled coyly. The hairpin I'd gifted adorned her hair.
Cheon Hyang spoke up.
"The Faceless Demon Lord stopped by, I take it?"
"Thanks to your intro."
"Heard the request and thought of you immediately. Where else for skin-soothing masks? Only your place."
She was hooked on the convenience store's perks already. Perfect.
What if I'd hogged that gold ingot? No such alliance. Holding back on greed sometimes yields massive gains. Self-praise earned, I got to the point.
"He wants delivery. Can't handle it solo."
"Oh? Delivery?"
"Could Manokru help?"
I figured she'd nod yes. Instead, she rubbed her fingers thoughtfully, then shook her head.
"I'd love to, but we're no shipping experts. Can't spare escorts every time."
Ah. Right. Manokru did various businesses, but at heart, it was a tavern and eatery. No robust delivery network for such distances.
Disappointing, but I nodded. Rethink shipping?
Then, "Why not use a professional delivery service?"
Cheon Hyang made a tempting suggestion.