Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Same Boat, Different Dreams
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“No!”
Heuk Do-san screamed as he jolted awake from his sleep. He looked around and saw that dawn was breaking through the porthole. The ship rocked endlessly, tossed by the waves slamming against the hull.
'Damn, that was one realistic dream.'
Heuk Do-san let out a long yawn, then crawled out from under the sail and scanned the deck.
The sail strung across the deck still divided the righteous and demonic factions as they sat facing off. Everyone looked hollow-eyed, as if they hadn't slept a wink. It was already the second day.
"Tut tut. What a rough way to live."
He walked to the edge and pulled out his spyglass to peer out at the sea. There was no wind, yet the waves churned wildly. Something must have been happening down below.
On top of that, the sea fog was thicker than usual today. Sea fog was the stuff of nightmares for sailors. Even under a bright sun, it could make you lose your way, and collisions with other ships were all too common.
"We're lost anyway. What does it matter? Hell, I'd be thrilled if we smashed into another ship and got wrecked."
Heuk Do-san chipped off a bit of snow and chewed it slowly.
Gong Cheon-ak thought:
'Did that bastard eat the monk? What's he mumbling about to himself?'
Hyeon-gak thought:
'He's finally lost it. Amitabha.'
Yeom Jin-sang thought:
'Unlucky son of a bitch.'
Dang Yak-ran thought:
'That's definitely him.'
Having quenched his thirst with the snow, Heuk Do-san started toward the cabin to bail out the pooled water.
He stopped dead at the top of the stairs. After last night's dream of dealing with filthy bilgewater, he just couldn't bring himself to go down.
"You there."
Heuk Do-san pointed at Yeom Jin-sang.
"Me?"
"You're bailing water in the cabin today."
"Why me?"
"Didn't you board this ship?"
"That's not what I—there are plenty of others, so why me..."
Heuk Do-san swept his gaze over the group and said:
"Starting today, we rotate bailing duty once a day. Demonic side today, righteous side tomorrow. No complaints, right? Better not have any if you don't want to die together."
Yeom Jin-sang froze, glancing nervously at Gong Cheon-ak.
If he vanished into the cabin, Gong Cheon-ak would be left alone on deck. Bing-seol was there, but her skills were too weak to help. Could Gong Cheon-ak handle Hyeon-gak and Dang Yak-ran by himself?
At that moment, Gong Cheon-ak nodded. Go ahead. With no choice, Yeom Jin-sang headed down into the cabin.
Heuk Do-san pried up a deck plank and chopped it into firewood with his axe. Then he used the spyglass lens to start a small fire.
Next, leaving only his loincloth on, he stripped off the rest of his clothes.
Despite his lean build, his muscles bulged like twisted bundles of steel wire.
Over them ran a chaotic web of sword scars, like whip lashes crisscrossing his skin. Scars were the history of a warrior. How many brushes with death did it take to earn marks like those?
"What are you doing?"
Dang Yak-ran asked in alarm.
"Can't dive into the sea with my clothes on."
"Why the sea?"
"Breakfast time."
He seemed to be going underwater to hunt for food.
"Even so, not in front of women..."
"Save that prissy talk for the Tang Clan of Sichuan."
Heuk Do-san gathered up all the ropes on deck, tied them into one long line, and fastened the end around his waist.
He tucked his dagger and axe in place, then plunged fearlessly into the icy sea.
* * *
Down in the cabin, Yeom Jin-sang climbed to the stern hole, dropped his pants, and let loose a steaming piss. The explosive relief made his whole body shudder.
"Whew, feels good to be alive."
He pulled up his pants and looked around. Water had risen to his shins. It would take half a day to bail it all out.
He'd acted reluctant, but honestly, this was a hundred times better than standing guard on deck. At least here he could slack off without anyone watching.
Better hurry and bail, then find a spot to lean against and catch a quick nap.
"Wonder if things are holding steady up there."
The day he woke on the ship, he'd first rushed to the bow where the righteous folk were. But seeing one more on the demonic side, he'd quickly switched to the stern.
It had been 2 against 4, so killing the righteous and seizing the ship would have been perfect. But then the hunchback died midway, balancing things out. In this standoff, a full fight would likely end in mutual destruction.
The next day, he learned the monk was one of Shaolin Temple's 18 Arhats and the woman the Tang Clan heiress. That's when regret started creeping in.
"Should've stuck with the righteous side?"
If he had, he might have teamed up with Hyeon-gak and Dang Yak-ran by now to slaughter the demonic scum and claim the ship.
He wouldn't be pulling all-nighters like this, and he'd have figured out some way to snag food from the sea.
"No clue how this is playing out. Damn it."
Either way, victory hinged on Gong Cheon-ak and Hyeon-gak.
Best case: the two wiped each other out in mutual defeat. Even better if Dang Yak-ran pitched in and they all went down together.
That left the guy called Heuk Do-san or whatever. Removing him might be easier than expected. Right now, the standoff was actually protecting him, but once the heavyweights were gone, just roll him up in the sail while he slept and toss him overboard.
Then it'd be just him and Bing-seol.
"Adrift alone with a beautiful woman..."
Just thinking about it made his loins stir.
Until then, he'd have to stay hidden and play it safe.
Yeom Jin-sang grabbed a gourd bailer and headed aft. As he scooped vigorously, something stabbed his foot.
"Argh!"
He jerked back and checked. Sticking out from a crossbeam joining the planks was a black iron spike.
He grabbed it and yanked hard. Thin as a chopstick with a sharp point...
"A nail?"
A big one, over a foot long.
He'd heard shipbuilders avoided nails because constant rocking from waves and wind created gaps. Instead, they shaped joints with interlocking convex and concave fits, slathered with pine resin and pitch. The longer it aged, the tighter it got.
But some spots required nails unavoidably—like interior fixtures not touching water.
Yeom Jin-sang waded through the water, pulling nails one by one. For stubborn ones, he used his claw technique to scrape under the head before yanking.
In no time, he had ten in hand.
"What luck!"
Warriors used bone-piercing chopsticks—throwing needles shaped like chopsticks that embedded deep in bone.
The nails were almost identical in size and shape.
And that was just the start. Jam them into a wooden club, and you had a brutal wolf tooth mace. Two or three hits would turn a body into a pincushion.
No need to make one now and draw suspicion, though. Play dumb for the moment, and if things turned ugly, slip down here quietly, craft it, then come up swinging. They'd all turn pale at the sight.
"With a wolf tooth mace, not even that Heuk Do-san bastard would scare me. Kahaha."
His heart raced at the thought.
He poked around some more. Near the bow hole, he spotted another half-protruding nail.
Like finding a coin on the road. Easy pull this time. Grinning ear to ear, Yeom Jin-sang gripped and yanked.
Clang!
Something burst with a pop, and a stream like horse piss shot from the floor. It went clang-clang twice more, then a forearm-thick geyser erupted.
"What the hell!"
He scrambled for a plank to hammer it back, but no use.
The plank hadn't just split—it had shattered, and he couldn't find the pieces.
Meanwhile, the flow intensified. The area flooded in seconds, the cabin floor rising fast.
His stomach dropped. His mind blanked on what to do.
Yeom Jin-sang snatched the gourd bailer and rushed to the stern hole. He began scooping furiously.
"Shit, goddamn it!"
* * *
At that very moment—Heuk Do-san spearing fish underwater, Yeom Jin-sang bailing desperately in the cabin—the other four glared daggers at each other on deck, tension razor-sharp.
"I climbed Song Mountain once as a kid."
Gong Cheon-ak spoke first. Song Mountain housed the thousand-year-old Shaolin Temple, sacred to Buddhism.
Hyeon-gak narrowed his eyes.
What business did this demonic bastard have ascending Song Mountain?
"My mother was dying after a long illness, and her final wish was to pass peacefully hearing the chants of a virtuous monk. But that was impossible. I knew she'd go the moment I stepped away even for a day. So after she passed, I took her finely ground ashes and visited Shaolin Temple."
'The bastard went to Shaolin?'
"An old monk heard my story and placed the urn in the hall, chanting sutras all day for her rebirth in paradise."
"Do you remember the old monk's dharma name?"
"Called himself Bul-san."
'Master...!'
What cruel twist of fate. To end up enemies with the son of the man his master had prayed for.
Hyeon-gak trembled at fate's merciless wheel.
'Namo Amitabha, Kwanseum Bosal.'
"The autumn leaves painting Song Mountain red were beautiful then. The serene temple air, the clear bell tolls drifting from somewhere—they were all perfect."
"Why tell me this?"
"Just felt like it."
"Just?"
"Yeah. Just."
"You're not begging forgiveness now, are you? Not a chance in hell. Thinking of my Shaolin brothers slaughtered by your kind still makes my teeth grind. I swear, wherever a single demon lurks, I'll hunt you to the ends of hell and kill you."
"Forgiveness? Why would I? I've done nothing wrong. Never resented you either. We met as enemies, so I fought with all I had. And you butchered my Heavenly Demon Divine Cult brothers just as brutally—breaking your no-killing precept to do it."
"I killed demons."
"Demons are sons and daughters too."
"Kill one evil, save ten good. If slaying one villain spares ten innocents, I'll gladly break the precept. If not me, who falls into hell!"
"Don't worry. You'll burn in hellfire for sure. Me too."
"......!"
Gong Cheon-ak looked strangely forlorn today. Hyeon-gak found it unfamiliar—this man who was always a mindless berserker. Gong Cheon-ak continued.
"Subduing Demon God Leg, right? That kick yesterday that flipped me upside down with the mast. Built on the Muscle Altering Classic of Bodhidharma, I'd guess."
"Not completely blind, I see."
"Damn impressive power. My balls are still tingling."
"Your Cold Heaven Ice White Palm was no joke either. Without Golden Bell, my guts would've been frozen solid. That Seventh Star Lord name suits you."
Their gazes locked. Their hearts connected.
The two warriors truly admired the martial arts they'd traded the night before. Before righteous or demonic, they were inevitably men of the martial world.
And in this moment, they shared one more thing: leadership over their people.
"Just to be sure—surrender?"
"Crawl between my legs, demon."
"Knew it. Let's talk something else. As you know, we'll all die before a real fight this way. Starve or freeze. You agree?"
"Go on."
"Right here, you and I settle it."
"The only words from you I've liked since we met."
"If I win, I won't kill the Tang girl. I'll let her live all the way back to the Central Plains. Once we're there, I'll release her regardless of the Righteous-Demonic Great War outcome. And though it won't happen, if you win..."
"Naturally. If I win, I'll spare the bald monk and the girl, take them back alive. Release them the instant we hit the Central Plains, war be damned."
"Thick-skulled, but you catch on quick."
"Demon, but you care for your men decently."
"Daesa!"
"Seventh Star Lord!"
Dang Yak-ran and Bing-seol cried out together.
Gong Cheon-ak and Hyeon-gak rose. Simply standing turned them into towering mountains.
Overwhelmed by their auras, Dang Yak-ran and Bing-seol unwittingly stumbled back four steps. The air on deck grew taut as a drawn bowstring.