Traces of the Light Dragon
“It’s fine.”
Cheon Seo-ah smiled gently at Chilgeomje, who had launched straight into an apology without so much as a greeting. By then her eyes had already returned to their original dead black.
That aside.
“Of all things, it had to be the Light Dragon. That side is rather troublesome.”
Why had traces of the Light Dragon appeared here of all places? Seo-ah tilted her head, unable to make sense of it.
The cultivation world where she had been active for hundreds of thousands of years was composed of three realms and two heavens. The two heavens were, of course, Daeracheon and the Daematcheon she herself had newly created. The remaining three realms were divided into the Lower Realm, the Middle Realm, and the Upper Realm.
Among them, the so-called Light Dragon—more precisely the Light Dragon Sect—was a faction seated in the Upper Realm, founded by dragons who all dreamed of ascending to Daeracheon. At first glance the name seemed to use the character for “madness,” but in truth it used the character for “light.” Their techniques, however, had all been tailored exclusively for dragons. When ordinary human cultivators practiced them, their minds were swallowed by madness, which was why countless cultivators had come to regard the “light” of the Light Dragon Sect as the “madness” character instead.
So why had one of that sect’s techniques—and a soft-body technique at that—taken root on Earth?
Could it be…
Did some other cultivator cross over to Earth besides me?
It wasn’t impossible. If one knew the exact coordinates, and if one could pierce the natural “walls” that kept the various worlds—commonly called dimensions—from colliding with one another, then moving between worlds was not entirely out of the question.
And yet.
I never saw any such traces.
While Seo-ah was turning that over in her mind, Chilgeomje spoke up, still fidgeting restlessly.
“Are you truly all right?”
“I really am fine. More importantly, where did this ‘child’ belong?”
“Th-that is…”
Faced with her question, Chilgeomje found himself unable to answer at once. The reason he had appeared here was simple. One of the subordinates he had sent to escort Seo-ah had been discovered with the skin of his face torn off. Fearing that something might have happened to her, he had rushed over in a panic—only to find that the insect he had just chopped to pieces had, in its final moments, had the audacity to wrap its hands around her neck.
The instant he saw that sight, rage had boiled over so violently that he had not even bothered to look back. Without a single thought of digging into the background of the matter, he had simply carved the creature apart and killed it.
“What a shame.”
Seo-ah murmured the words with genuine regret. If she had been able to torture the child who was now a corpse, she might at least have learned how it had obtained the Light Dragon Sect’s soft-body technique.
Chilgeomje, for his part, flinched hard at that single soft “What a shame” and trembled violently.
“I-I am truly sorry!”
He apologized again and slammed his forehead against the floor with a heavy thud. The posture he assumed was the infamous “Wonsan bombing” position, a notorious form of harsh discipline even in the military.
Seo-ah smiled gently at him.
“I really am fine, so please get up. You should also consider how this looks to your subordinates.”
With those words she gave a small wave of her hand, and a faint breeze from nowhere forcibly lifted Chilgeomje back to his feet. Only then did he realize that he and Seo-ah were not alone—the subordinates he had sent to fetch her were still present.
His gaze slid sideways.
The two men cowering in the corner flinched hard. The eyes Chilgeomje turned on them were a complete one-hundred-eighty-degree reversal from the ones he showed Seo-ah—utterly murderous.
The scruffy subordinate and the shadow freak met those eyes and trembled as they blurted out,
“I-I didn’t see a thing!”
“Same here!”
They shouted before he had even spoken a word. Even so, Chilgeomje wordlessly plucked one of the seven swords floating behind his back and took it in hand. Terror flooded the eyes of the scruffy youth and the shadow freak.
They were going to die.
They were absolutely going to die!
Just as the two of them were contemplating their deaths,
“Is it really necessary to kill them?”
“I am sorry, but this is a matter of my face.”
Showing this sort of scene to the other rulers of the Illuminati would not have mattered. They, like him, had all received grace from Seo-ah and had at least dimly grasped her true nature. These two, however, were different. The Seo-ah they knew—and the Seo-ah he had told them about—was merely “someone important.”
Just as Chilgeomje prepared to kill them without hesitation, Seo-ah spoke again.
“In that case, why not simply give those two children to me?”
“What do you mean…?”
“I mean I will manage them myself. I needed attendants to wait on me anyway.”
“If that is the case, I will prepare more useful ones—”
“I like these children.”
Before he realized it, Seo-ah’s dead eyes were fixed squarely on him. Chilgeomje met that gaze, hesitated for a moment, and then finally recalled the sword in his hand.
They didn’t have to die!
The scruffy youth and the shadow freak let out long breaths of relief at having barely survived. At the same time, both of them stared at Seo-ah with the same unspoken question in their eyes.
Just who is that little girl…?
How could a few words from her turn aside Chilgeomje’s intent to kill them?
“More importantly, the hour is late. Let us head to your residence.”
Chilgeomje addressed Seo-ah. Truthfully, the moment he had learned she had returned to Seoul he had wanted to invite her to his place at once. It was simply that, before he could make contact himself, the unfortunate accident of Gwanghwi running into her had occurred first.
Other heroes he could handle, but Gwanghwi was someone even Chilgeomje found distinctly awkward. Officially Gwanghwi was ranked Grade 2, and his official hero ranking sat at eighth place. The nine rulers of the Illuminati and the upper echelons of the Hero Association, however, all knew perfectly well that Gwanghwi’s strength was nowhere near a mere Grade 2. If he ever began to reveal his true power in earnest, he would never remain stuck at eighth.
Fortunately Seo-ah had left Gwanghwi’s house, which had finally allowed contact—only for this mess to happen.
Of all the times for something like this to go wrong—!
Chilgeomje ground his teeth. If word of this got out, the other eight would grind his bones to powder with their criticism. Or perhaps they would simply kill him for the crime of allowing Seo-ah to fall into danger.
As he ground his teeth, the scruffy man and the shadow freak let out little “Eeek!” shrieks and trembled. Seo-ah, smiling brightly, turned to Chilgeomje.
“It’s fine. If those children ever try to kill you, I’ll stop them—once.”
“Where is this?”
“This is the house where you will live from now on, Lady Cheon Seo-ah.”
“My house?”
“Yes. I have already taken care of the title and every other necessary arrangement, so please make yourself comfortable.”
Chilgeomje answered her with a hearty laugh. He had prepared the house from the very first day he met her. Then, by lucky chance, she had mentioned that her hometown was Seoul and that she intended to go out there, so he had been waiting for the right moment to tell her.
I never expected that old bald monk Maraseung to get there first.
Yet the heavens had not abandoned him entirely. After following Maraseung to China, Seo-ah had run into trouble with the local heroes—the Chinese preferred to call themselves martial artists—and had returned to Korea. While he had been watching for an opportunity, the unpleasant incident just now had occurred, but still.
“Are you satisfied?”
“It’s nice.”
Seo-ah nodded and busied herself looking around the house with open curiosity. The residence Chilgeomje had gifted her was more than merely nice; there was something about it that a simple “nice” could not capture. The floor space ran a little over two hundred pyeong, and though it was clearly an apartment it was built as a duplex—or perhaps one should simply call it two stories. The sofa, the television, the air conditioner, the computer—every piece of furniture and appliance was top of the line. The clothes, accessories, and bags filling the walk-in closet were all genuine luxury goods, ranging from several million won at the low end to tens of millions or even hundreds of millions at the high end.
While Seo-ah wandered the rooms with sparkling eyes, Chilgeomje turned to the two men.
“You both understand your roles, I trust.”
“O-of course!”
“Thank you for the opportunity.”
“It is not an opportunity I gave you. It is one the young lady granted. However… if something like this happens again…”
A razor-edged killing intent flowed from Chilgeomje’s narrowed eyes. The youth and the shadow freak cried out at once.
“Just trust us! Even if it kills us, we will protect the young lady!”
“The same goes for me.”
“Good. I will be watching.”
With that, Chilgeomje walked toward Seo-ah. The two men watched his back and finally let out long sighs of relief.
Still…
“Just who is that little br—no, that young lady, anyway?”
The scruffy youth muttered under his breath, unable to understand. He and the shadow freak were Chilgeomje’s direct subordinates, so they knew perfectly well who their master was. On the surface he was a businessman who had built a major conglomerate with his bare hands. In reality he was a monster who had been alive since the Japanese colonial period—and one of the nine rulers of the Illuminati, the world’s greatest villain organization.
Why, then, did that same Chilgeomje lower himself so completely before this little girl? Neither of them could fathom it.
Meanwhile, after touring the house for quite some time, Seo-ah turned to Chilgeomje with a bright, open smile.
“Thank you for the gift.”