Chapter 182
Chapter 182
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 182
Chapter Title: Demonic Arts Defense Seminar (3)
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Shim Yul was middling in talent among his fellow disciples of the Kunlun Sect.
However, he held the Kunlun banner of the "Demon-Subduing Vanguard" in the highest esteem, more than anyone else.
"If you borrow money, you pay it back!"
"But the interest is outrageous... Ack!"
"You begged to borrow it when I offered, and now that it's time to repay, it's outrageous interest? Did I force it on you?"
Thus, while patrolling the Kunlun grounds, he spotted a band of demonic cultists causing trouble.
"These aren't ordinary loan sharks. Their auras are too fierce for that, and they're unfamiliar faces."
"Looks like the loan sharks hired demonic cultists. Didn't the senior brothers say such cases pop up more often toward the outer edges of the grounds?"
Shing—
"Hey, Shim Yul. What are you doing? Why draw your sword?"
"Can't you see? I'm stopping them."
"...Didn't the elders and senior brothers warn us not to tangle with demonic cult scum? It could escalate into a major fight!"
"We are disciples of Kunlun. How can we turn a blind eye to demons?!"
"But strictly speaking, this area isn't really Kunlun territory."
Unlike the hesitant other Taoists, he drew his sword without a second thought.
His opponents were stronger than him, but he didn't care. Protecting the Kunlun banner was paramount.
Even if he lost something here, he believed everyone would praise his actions.
But the outcome he received was utterly unforeseen.
"...The cut on your right wrist is too deep."
The price Shim Yul paid was a severe wound to his right wrist that left him unable to grip a sword.
And with it came the scorn: a Kunlun disciple had pitifully lost his right hand to demonic cult filth.
"A disciple lacking discipline who lets his zeal run ahead ends up like this. Take Shim Yul as a cautionary tale, all of you."
Before long, he couldn't sleep without poisoned liquor.
As those days dragged on, his disobedient right hand began to tremble.
With Shim Yul reduced to a near-invalid, some in the Kunlun Sect even called for his expulsion.
One day, brushing off those rumors, he slipped out of the temple in search of more poisoned liquor.
"If I may say, this man has inherited the secrets of famed divine physicians from ancient times. Don't dismiss him as a wandering quack—entrust your body to him without hesitation. He'll uproot any ailment."
He ran into a rambling itinerant physician spouting nonsense.
'Quacks should know their limits with the bluster. No wonder he has no customers.'
But the quack's next words stopped Shim Yul in his tracks and made him grab the man's collar.
"Oh dear, a Kunlun Taoist, I presume? Your right hand seems to be troubling you. And seeing your sword on your left hip, you're still clinging to hopes... Gah."
"Keep talking, you bastard!"
"...Kek. Look here—you're choking me with your left hand. Even hidden by Kunlun's long sleeves, a physician's eye isn't fooled."
"Where did a quack like you hear my story to mock me...?"
"What do I gain by mocking a crippled Taoist? Just risks to my life."
"......"
"Try my treatment. Consider it a loss if it fails."
Mentally cornered, Shim Yul extended his right wrist as if entranced.
After a few needle pricks and some moxibustion, the trembling stopped. He received a medicine said to reconnect the severed tendons and, as instructed, boiled and drank it daily for seven days.
To his astonishment, his fingers began to move.
"My right hand?!"
But the joy was fleeting.
"!"
Soon, excruciating pain seeped into his bones.
Drenched in cold sweat, Shim Yul sought out the physician.
"Physician! Something's wrong. It stopped for now, but just earlier, there was unbearable agony..."
"Oh? You felt the agony? Then the poison's taking effect well!"
"Ah, so it's part of the treatment?"
"No, proof the poison's working."
"...Poison?!"
"Yes. Poison. Without periodic antidotes, agony recurs, cycles shorten, and death follows."
"...Why give it to someone like me?"
"Because you're needed for our cult's plans."
Shim Yul reached for the jianghu wanderer's collar again.
"Our cult? You... from the demonic cult?"
Unlike before, the wanderer deftly evaded and smirked.
"Whoa, whoa. No need to flare up. Just a little trust issue led to spiking your treatment, but the wrist-healing effect is genuine."
"You're the ones who did this to me!"
"Tch, didn't you brace for blades entering jianghu? And watch your words—we cultists stabbed you, sure, but your seniors and sect just watched. You lived poisoned by your own choice?"
"You!"
"You felt the agony—and the antidote's effect?"
"......"
"I'll say it again: the antidote works. We poison and cure, but we're offering you medicine. Kunlun abandoned you; now they want you gone. Your choice."
Then came the pitch.
"Join hands with us. No hard requests. They've set up some 'Demonic Defense Seminar' at the Righteous Martial Academy to block us."
"You want me to join that?"
"Exactly. With your injury from our cult, a decent excuse gets you in easy."
"......"
"Join, report what you see and hear. Antidotes each time, full cure at the end."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The claim that Kunlun had abandoned him and now sought to discard him struck Shim Yul's heart dead center.
Shim Yul allied with the demonic cult.
The jianghu wanderer handed over part of the full antidote.
"To build trust—take it en route to the academy from Kunlun. You'll feel the agony cycles lengthening. Keep taking antidotes, and one day, the pain vanishes clean."
"Understood."
"But skip doses or mistake fake medicine, and it's irreversible. No funny ideas—meet on schedule."
With the warning came his mission.
Identify seminar members in detail.
Learn research contents.
Note lax security times.
Sounded much, but boiled down to "report what you see and hear."
'Easy if I get in.'
Shim Yul thought so upon confirming the antidote.
The trainees' drills on the way to his interview and Chief Researcher Eon Yong-un's mention of "mind-body training" nagged a bit.
He'd had a hiatus, but Shim Yul was once elite patrol among Kunlun disciples.
He figured he could manage; even if grueling, the lower-ranked chief would pull strings.
It didn't take long to learn how wrong he was.
Beep! Beep beep!!
Beep beep beep beep!!!
He realized it during the entrance ceremony amid blaring horns.
"Chief Eon, finishing this in half a shichen is impossible."
"What if I do it?"
"Huh?"
"I'll do what Researcher Shim is tasked with, same conditions. If I finish in half a shichen, what then? Red hat on me? Silver bell here—take my duties..."
"F-Fine, I'll do it!"
"Not 'I'll try'—get it done."
He realized again amid the murderous workload.
'That Eon Yong-un bastard's insane! Possessed by a demon?! Can't he see people's suffering?!'
But if Eon Yong-un was mad, his senior researchers—fellow initiates—were equally deranged.
'This workload warrants a dozen revolts—why are they competing like it's a race?'
Shim Yul's tasks were menial: cutting paper to book size with a guillotine, grinding ink.
Delivering results from the utility room to the lab...
He nearly lost his mind seeing Yin Ha-yeon and Jegal Seolji pitting workloads.
"Lady Ha-yeon? Your reading speed's slowed. Tired? Rest at the dorms—I'll cover your tasks too."
"Not at all. And you, Lady Jegal? You look exhausted."
"Me?"
"Yes. Look at this character. Sloppy—'bon' or 'pi'? Context says 'bon,' so I'll fix it. Rest if you're tired?"
"...Ha-yeon, Seolji. Please stop, or we'll all die."
The lab scene was madness, but he dismissed it as another world.
Most baffling was Namgung Yun, sharing his menial chores.
'Namgung clan heir, slaving away like this?'
Raised as scion of the world's top clan, surely a first for such work—yet eyes blazing, ink-splattered, grinding away.
Even when slacking was viable, he volunteered every time.
"Done here! Senior Shim, need more paper cut?"
As "that damned punk" danced on Shim Yul's tongue, Jeong Hyeon arrived.
"Young Master Namgung, quite diligent? When Chief Eon first assigned this ink-splattering task, I doubted it'd suit your temperament. My judgment was off."
"How do you see me, Jeong Hyeon?"
"Well... recalling your tiger dung freakout and your wrinkle-free usual attire."
"Hmph. Then, I thought Eon Yong-un was just messing with me. Now I know why he assigned it."
"Another reason?"
"This research ends in compilation. It starts with my ground ink, leads to protecting the world through my actions."
"Oh, Chief Eon might indeed think on such a level."
Paper-cutting, ink-grinding—with dao and world-saving?
They were all madmen.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The seminar under the "Demonic Defense" plaque ramped up tasks for proven competence.
Slacking led to "lax mindset" and special training.
He knew grad programs weed people out, but this was extreme.
Thus, Shim Yul gleaned zero intel for the cultists.
'Just cutting paper, grinding ink.'
Never read a single character of the research.
Morning/evening guerrilla drills ate all time.
'Antidote pickup soon.'
Even meeting the date was a crisis.
But fortune smiled—no law says man must die.
"Professors love our progress—mood booster hike to Wudang Mountain day after tomorrow? Lab closes, essentials only. Not mandatory—sign up here if interested."
This guy's a demon.
"Not mandatory," but skipping means trouble.
But convulsing and exposing as cult pawn before this demon terrified more.
Shim Yul mustered courage.
"I'd love to, but must sit out."
"Something come up?"
He had a prepared excuse.
"Medicine from Kunlun ran out. Need to visit local apothecary."
Not total lie, so he met Eon Yong-un's piercing gaze squarely.
Perhaps it worked—Eon unusually relented.
"No helping it. Join anytime if you change mind."
Others followed, citing excuses to skip.
Shim Yul felt relief.
On hiking day...
Shim Yul headed to the rendezvous.
"Hm? Not the wanderer?"
"He's busy. Handlers rotate. Have your antidote—spill what you've learned at the seminar."
Upon arrival, he realized he had nothing to report.
"...Menial chores only—no docs accessed. Only insight: they're all lunatics."
"?"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The "professor-led hike" was my bait, deploying select profs.
Shim Yul bit; I trailed him via blood tracking art trace I'd planted.
'Suspicious, right?'
-Suspicious indeed.
The bundle merchant meeting Shim Yul had far to market close, bundle bulging—yet vanishing beyond.
As I watched the merchant...
Master transmitted:
-Yet why leave that bundle merchant be? No arrest?
'Shim Yul learned zilch anyway.'
Paper-cutting, thread-twisting, ink-grinding—what intel?
'Merchant's just a lackey. Need the root lumps, not tendrils.'
Better use Shim Yul bait right to hook big fish?