Soaked Master is Insanely Hot! The Hunters Mobilize
Whoa, what’s this! A soaking wet Master! He’s insanely hot!
The Yeopsadan (Hunter Corps). True to its name, it was the Demon Church's hunting dogs and hunters, a group primarily tasked with tracking and assassinating targets. Back in the day, during the Demon Church's uprising, there was a saying that if the Murim Alliance had their Subjugation Force, the Demon Church had the Yeopsadan—their mission execution was that impressive. Of course, after the Murim Alliance's victory in the war against the Demon Church seven years ago, the Yeopsadan had taken heavy losses, leaving them with only about half their former strength. But even with fewer numbers and weakened forces, they remained the Demon Church's elite hunters. Their ruthless methods—sparing no means to complete a mission—hadn't changed one bit.
Pabababat!
To carry out the orders of Hon Cheon Goma, the proxy of the Heavenly Demon now in eternal slumber, the Yeopsadan scattered swiftly. These Demon Church hounds, who had never once failed a track even if assassinations occasionally slipped through, set off into the Central Plains to find the daughter of the Supreme Heavenly Demon.
“...Yeonhwa, are you there?”
After the Yeopsadan departed on their mission, in the quiet cavern, Hon Cheon Goma softly called his disciple's name.
“Yes, Master. Your disciple is here.”
From the cavern's darkness, Wi Yeonhwa—Hon Cheon Goma's prized pupil, kneeling on one knee—immediately answered her master's call.
“The current Yeopsadan is a far cry from its former glory. Their tracking skills remain sharp, but their combat prowess has waned.”
The Heavenly Demon Yang Mujin, his ten archbishops, and the tens of thousands of followers who once terrorized the entire martial world—the Heavenly Demon Divine Church of old was no more. The Heavenly Demon had been hacked to pieces by the Murim Alliance's suicide squad, his heart pierced by the Alliance Leader's sword. Of the ten archbishops, only Hon Cheon Goma survived. Unlike before, the Demon Church now was merely a ragtag band of remnants, a organization of the weak.
“If the daughter of the Supreme Heavenly Demon is discovered and captured first by those vile heretics of the Murim Alliance, even the current Yeopsadan would struggle to fulfill their mission.”
Thus, Hon Cheon Goma—the Heavenly Demon's proxy and current head of the Demon Church—had no choice but to proceed with caution.
“So, follow the Yeopsadan and bring me the daughter of the Supreme Heavenly Demon.”
He chose to dispatch the masterpiece he had personally raised.
“But do not travel with them. Stay hidden from their notice. If trouble arises and conflict erupts with the Murim Alliance, use them as bait and retrieve only the daughter. Never reveal your power.”
Gazing at the full moon in the night sky, Hon Cheon Goma issued his command to his prized disciple, Wi Yeonhwa.
“Yes, your disciple shall obey your command, Master.”
Wi Yeonhwa bowed toward Hon Cheon Goma from the cavern's shadows, then slowly opened her eyes.
“Then, I shall take my leave, Master.”
In the pitch-black darkness where not even an inch ahead was visible, only Wi Yeonhwa's blood-red eyes gleamed coldly.
Sensitive from the spanking and kneading, Yeon Wol had passed out and showed no signs of waking. At this rate, the sun would rise and morning would break. For me, who needed to abduct Jin Seoryeong before dawn—while the night's chill still lingered—I had to leave this place now.
“Seoryeong, I'll carry Yeon Wol on my back, so grab our stuff and follow.”
With no other choice, I hoisted the snoring Yeon Wol onto my back and spoke to Seoryeong behind me.
“...Normally, when you're kidnapping someone, don't you carry or sling the target over your shoulder? Why's your disciple on your back, and I'm the one following you?”
“Because Yeon Wol can't walk. We gotta go now, no choice. Anyway, pack only the essentials and come out.”
“Hey, Baek Jincheon, you...!”
Seoryeong called after me in a voice full of complaint, but before it reached me, I'd already stepped on the windowsill and leaped outside.
It had been years since I'd last used lightness skill. The last time was probably when Yeon Wol had a fever and I rushed her to the physician in Cheonbaekhyeon. Right after I'd brought her home, I think. Back then, Yeon Wol was so small and frail. She was thirteen, but the doctor took one look and said, “This kid looks about eight! What were you thinking, starving her like this? You trying to kill the poor thing?” She was that tiny and delicate. When did that little kid grow up so much...?
Judging by the soft, heavy press of her breasts against my back, she'd grown a lot. But so what? No master ever laments a disciple's growth.
“Mmngh... Master...”
I glanced sideways at Yeon Wol, who in her sleep tightened her arms around my neck and rubbed her cheek against my nape, pressing even closer.
Yeon Wol had always said I was her lifesaver, that she'd spend her whole life repaying the favor. But there was one thing she didn't know: I owed her my life too. If I hadn't met her that day, or if I'd been too late finding her and she'd died, I probably would've ended my own life. Protecting Yeon Wol, daughter of the previous Heavenly Demon, was the only purpose left to me back then. For that version of me, safeguarding her was both goal and reason to live—and meeting her under the moonlight let me keep going.
Thud. Thud.
And even now, my purpose remained the same. I'd give my life to protect Yeon Wol.
“...”
Thanks to lightness skill, we quickly reached our hut on Cheonbaeksan. Still carrying Yeon Wol, I headed straight to my room. There were two must-take items back home.
“...Never thought the day would come to buckle this on again.”
One was my sword, hanging on the wall, dormant in its sheath for seven years. From scabbard to hilt, pure white—this was the first essential.
“Hope I never have to draw it.”
A sword was made for killing, and drawing it meant blood would spill. Cutting down a living being wasn't pleasant, so I prayed in my heart that I'd never need it.
Slide. Thud.
I set Yeon Wol down on the floor, took the sword from the wall, and strapped it to my waist. Seven years since I'd worn it, yet it felt as natural as yesterday. I'd deliberately avoided touching a blade all this time, but my body still welcomed it. Was I still a swordsman at heart?
“Hmph.”
Bitter smile at my body betraying my mind, I stepped outside for the second item. It was in the well I'd dug beside the hut. I stripped off my outer robe and shoes, then dove in.
Splash!
I'd dug it deep from the start, so the well plunged far. Holding my breath, I dove straight to the bottom. At a depth sunlight couldn't reach, my feet touched down. I grabbed the box on the well floor and surfaced.
“Why'd you come out of there? And what's that long box you're holding?”
“Hoo... Oh, you're here? Surprisingly light load.”
Seoryeong was waiting when I emerged. I'd told her essentials only, and from her room, she'd grabbed just a waist pouch and her black sword.
“Light load? A bit of coin and my sword—that's all I need.”
Fair enough. Seoryeong had joined the suicide squad assaulting the Heavenly Demon Divine Church's main headquarters on Simmandae Mountain. A survivor of that battlefield naturally traveled light.
“What, thought I'd pack useless crap like cosmetics or jewelry like some pampered noble lady?”
“Yeah.”
“What?!”
“You've gotten so pretty, Seoryeong, I forgot you're a martial artist for a sec.”
“...Eek.”
She bristled at first, but my follow-up turned her pale cheeks crimson as she hunched her shoulders. Who'd believe she was the Murim world's hero, leader of the Subjugation Force? So damn cute.
Chuckling at her adorable reaction, I slicked back my wet hair and headed to wake Yeon Wol in the room.
“Hey! Baek Jincheon!”
But Seoryeong called from behind. I turned; she looked expectant.
“You, uh, earlier... when your disciple messed up, you spanked her butt and all that.”
“...Yeah.”
“You'll do the same to me if I mess up, right?”
“Huh?”
What an out-of-left-field question. My mind flooded with Suddenly?Why? and Why the hell bring that up now? But instead of questioning, I answered.
“No. No reason to.”
Spank Seoryeong like I did Yeon Wol? Why would I?
“Aw, why not!”
She shrieked, displeased—like a kid sulking over unfair treatment. Spanking's unfair treatment, right? I added an explanation.
“Yeon Wol wouldn't listen 'cause of her magic's corruption, so I disciplined her. But you, Seoryeong? You listen when I talk. Why spank when words work?”
Violence was always a last resort. Most in the martial world didn't think that way, but I did.
“...I won't listen either!”
“Huh? What're you...”
“Why assume words'll work? You're the kidnapper—why should I, the victim, obey you!”
Her words filled my head with question marks. No clue what her deal was, but she seemed pissed at my answer. Wiping dripping water with my hand, I asked.
“You won't listen to me?”
“...I-I will, okay.”
“...?”
What the hell did she want? She'd been raging seconds ago, now staring at my chest, mumbling blankly. Stockholm from the kidnapping? Nah, it wasn't even real kidnapping—just eloping. Puberty hitting her too? Training one brat like Yeon Wol was tough enough; now Seoryeong too? Headache from the extra responsibility brewing—
Then, clattering from behind and a familiar voice.
“Master! You out there?”
It was Yeon Wol.
“Yeah, I'm right h—”
“Ah, Master! Woke up seeing your room ceiling, got scared... Whoa, what’s this! A soaking wet Master! He’s insanely hot!”
“Sigh, disciple. What kinda talk is that...”
“I-I concur.”
“...”
This journey was gonna be anything but easy.