Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: The Bet
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“Old Timer, who might you be?”
“I’m the master of this cave.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“You should’ve phrased your question properly from the start. You asked who I am, and I gave the answer that best describes me in this situation. What’s wrong with that?”
The old man glared as if he’d gouge out Heuk Do-san’s eyes on the spot if he admitted any fault.
Startled by the menace, Heuk Do-san licked his lips and asked again.
“You said I could ask anything, right?”
“Of course.”
“What’s the old timer’s name?”
“Forgot it.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Your question was flawed from the start. You should’ve first asked if I even have a name, and if so, whether I still remember it.”
“Who in the world doesn’t have a name? And who forgets their own?”
“Live alone for decades in your old age with no one to talk to. Sometimes even I wonder if I’m human.”
‘This madman!’
Heuk Do-san barely suppressed the surge of anger inside him.
It was clear something was off. Living alone in this barren cave in the remote wilderness must’ve driven him insane.
It was as if some of a martial artist’s habits had stuck around, others had faded away, and still others had twisted into strange new forms.
Strong, sensitive, and utterly mad—he’d be no easy opponent.
‘A stick works best on madmen, but...’
“Nothing else you’re curious about?”
“No.”
“Then it’s my turn to ask? You asked me three things, so I’ll ask three. No objections?”
“None.”
“Kekeke. Good. Let’s begin. First: how did you get here?”
“I walked.”
The strange old man looked momentarily flustered. But he soon smirked as if it had never happened.
“Nice comeback.”
“...!”
If someone had answered one of Heuk Do-san’s questions like that, he’d have slapped them silly.
Yet the old man accepted it as if it were his own mistake. That only confused Heuk Do-san more.
‘What kind of contest does he think this is? He’s thoroughly mad.’
“Second question: why are you here?”
“To rescue my comrades.”
“Not about entering the cave—I’m asking why you Central Plains folk climbed this snowy peak in the distant wilderness.”
“Then you should’ve asked it that way from the start.”
“...!”
‘How’s that? Driving you crazy too?’
Heuk Do-san felt pathetic for engaging in such an absurd conversation. But the strange old man treated it like a grave debate.
Only one question remained.
From then on, the old man’s expression turned deadly serious. He pondered deeply, determined not to slip up again.
After a long while, his words cut through the nonsense in one stroke.
“How about a bet?”
“We were in the middle of talking, and now suddenly a bet? What for?”
“I’ll ask my final question now. Give the right answer, and I’ll grant one request.”
“Anything I want?”
“Anything.”
“Really?”
“I don’t go back on my word.”
Heuk Do-san didn’t know his game, but it was a good opportunity. Whatever the question, he could answer in detail until satisfied.
In exchange, he’d ask to be shown the way back to the Central Plains and for his comrades to be released. No— that’d be two things, so he’d have to phrase it as one.
‘Ask him to escort us all to the nearest village. If he refuses, switch to just releasing everyone.’
Heuk Do-san glanced slyly at the old man’s face after speaking.
The real talk hadn’t even started, but he’d gotten a read on his personality.
Tremendously prideful, hated owing debts, and had to give as good as he got to feel right.
Put nicely, he was fair and precise; put harshly, a lunatic trapped in his own world.
“Fine.”
“But if you get it wrong, I’ll question you until you die. No objections?”
“Wait. What do you mean by right or wrong? Can’t I just answer honestly and to the point?”
“Does the world only have truth and lies? There’s right and wrong, correct and incorrect.”
“Where’s that coming from?”
“You already agreed.”
“That’s because you didn’t lay out all the conditions first.”
“Your fault for agreeing before I finished. Are you blaming me now?”
The old man’s eyebrows twitched.
Heuk Do-san felt a chill.
‘What’s his angle?’
No matter how he racked his brain, the madman’s twisted common sense made him impossible to predict.
‘Fine, let’s see what ridiculous trap he’s set. Even a tiger bite won’t kill you if you keep your wits—they can’t do worse than ask questions.’
“Understood.”
“Here’s the final question: do you think I’ll gouge out your eyes, or not?”
The old man asked with a barely suppressed laugh, his face radiating confidence in victory.
Heuk Do-san was dumbfounded. Gouge out your eyes or not? Posing a riddle like that was absurd and humiliating, but this was a no-win game from the start.
There was a limit to endurance.
“This is rigged.”
“Why?”
“If I say you will, you’ll say you won’t. If I say you won’t, you’ll say you will.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Living alone for ages without human contact seems to have dulled your judgment—this isn’t a fair contest from the outset.”
“What did you say?”
“Threatening to gouge out eyes isn’t fair either. You see me as a frog in your palm, but if you’re going to toy with me over this nonsense, just torture me instead. That’d be more manly.”
“...!”
The old man shot him a fiery glare.
He’d clearly taken offense at the “unfair” accusation. Any great martial artist, black or white, hated being called cowardly most.
Even Black Dao thugs who bullied the weak with violence, or fiends who killed young boys and girls for cultivation, despised the label of coward.
Absurd and paradoxical, but that was the way of the jianghu. Even fiends had reputations to uphold.
‘He still has some martial artist instincts left. I can work with that to find a way out.’
Heuk Do-san stared back defiantly, as if daring him to kill him.
But he was confident the old man wouldn’t kill easily after his pride had been pricked—not without restoring it first.
At last, the old man relaxed his expression.
“So what do you propose?”
Heuk Do-san looked around, picked up two stones—one white, one black—and gripped one in each hand.
“The white stone means no eye-gouging, black means yes. Have me turn away, bury one in the sand first. Then I answer, and we dig it up together.”
The old man looked visibly thrown.
But only for a moment—he grinned wickedly, as if plotting something.
“Fine.”
Heuk Do-san turned around and sat.
He heard the old man sit on the sand and bury the stone.
“Done. Answer.”
Heuk Do-san turned back and pondered.
Win or lose, saying “no” would make the old man want to gouge them out of spite. So he had to say “yes.”
That would trick the old man into choosing “no” and spare his eyes.
The mad old man knew that and was essentially blackmailing him: I’ll bury white, so lose the bet.
Heuk Do-san faced a dilemma.
Hit the mark and ask for release plus the way home? Or lose on purpose for immediate eye safety?
Both risky. Nail it, and the madman might nitpick with some other insanity—like sparing eyes but breaking legs.
Miss, and eyes safe but trapped in the stone chamber forever.
He knew of the Ten Thousand Great Heaven Pavilion, so no mercy—women drained dry, men throttled and dumped.
No gain, all loss.
He’d accepted to buy time and draw the old man closer.
‘At his skill level, he’ll block any attack from this distance. Somehow lure him within arm’s reach.’
Glancing aside, Seop Dae-gang slumped motionless, head bowed. Faint breathing meant he wasn’t dead.
Internal injuries from shaken organs had exhausted his qi, leaving him unconscious.
‘That strong a blow?’
He’d known the blood vomit signaled grave wounds, but not this bad. If the guy were fit, they could team up to take down the old man at a crucial moment.
In this state, he was useless bait at best.
‘All flash, no substance—weakling.’
Heuk Do-san turned back to the old man.
With a “take this” mindset, he said,
“Black stone.”
“Krahaha! Wrong. I’ll never gouge out your eyes.”
The old man roared with laughter, flipping the sand. As expected, the white stone emerged.
Half absurd, half infuriated. How long must he play these mad games?
‘I’ll go insane.’
The old man cut off his laughter abruptly.
In high spirits, he stood, entered the stone chamber, and returned with a dark, wood-like chunk of meat, offering it.
“Eat.”
“What is it?”
“Jerky.”
“Why...?”
“Eat.”
Moments ago threatening eyes, now handing food. Mad old man or not, impossible to pin down.
Stomach growling anyway. If it was hospitality, no reason to refuse. A bit gamey, but salty and delicious jerky.
“How is it?”
“What’s it made from?”
“Bats.”
“...!”
“Want water too?”
“No thanks.”
“Now to business. What’ll it be? No rush—maybe some worldly news first? Who’s the strongest in the Central Plains martial world now?”
“I’m no martial artist. Don’t know much about that world. If you want martial news, wake that monk or the big guy over there—they’d know better.”
The old man frowned.
“No lie. The monk’s Hyeon-gak, a Shaolin Arhat. The big one’s Gong Cheon-ak, Heavenly Demon Divine Cult brass.”
“You expect me to believe a Shaolin stone monk and Heavenly Demon Divine Cult elite together!”
The old man bellowed.
“It’s complicated—we ended up that way. Huge war in the Central Plains martial world. We’re stragglers heading home. I’m just a mercenary.”
“War among martial folk?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me in detail.”
“To start from the beginning: early in the dynasty, Demonic Cult forces raided and seized Shandong Province amid the chaos.”
Heuk Do-san began from afar, avoiding omissions.
He recounted the Heavenly Demon declaring borders and founding his nation, the birth of the Righteous Alliance, their 30,000 troops crossing the Yellow River to assault the Heavenly Demon Palace, and more.
The old man listened, sometimes shocked, sometimes flustered, sometimes puzzled.
“The Heavenly Demon finally caused a stir. So who leads the Righteous Alliance?”
Rumor had the Heavenly Demon over eighty this year. Calling him “kid” though. Old, sure—but how ancient?
“Heard it’s Sword Sage Yeop Jeong-cho. The emperor hastily created the Subjugation Army General title and bestowed it on him.”
“Yeop Jeong-cho? That Wudang genius latecomer said to appear once a century?”
If the previous generation’s pinnacle was the Heavenly Demon for the demonic path, it was Yeop Jeong-cho for the orthodox.
What sword realm earned him the title Sword Sage (Sword Immortal) from the jianghu?
Yet here was someone calling the Heavenly Demon “kid” and Yeop Jeong-cho “latecomer punk.” Unimaginable.
“Don’t know if he’s a latecomer, but he’s definitely Wudang Sect Leader.”
“Sect Leader? Heh, feels like yesterday I heard rumors of a decent talent in Wudang, and now Sect Leader? Grown up to vie for supremacy with the Heavenly Demon?”
The more Heuk Do-san thought, the more absurd it seemed.
Heavenly Demon and Sword Sage Yeop Jeong-cho dominated the current martial world. Martial gods battling for the top spot.
Scared of the Ten Thousand Great Heaven Peak? Just some manual from a mountain hermit, yet treating legends like kids.
“Now explain why you lot came here. Central Plains to here is tens of thousands of li—what were you after to trek this far? Mark my words: any lie, and I’ll beat your soul to pieces.”
Threat downgraded from eyes to soul-beating. Hard to believe this fiend killed all those in the cavern—surprisingly naive.
‘Pure killers are scarier. Wonder if the madman will buy the story from here on.’