Three Went In, Three Came Out — So What's the Problem?

Three went in, three came out. What exactly was the problem?

"Your orders, Cult Leader."

Samsik bowed low as he said it.

The errand I had in mind was, in the end, simple: cross over into Murim and bring back the disciples of the Blood Heavenly Cult. The situation following the Tutorial Termination was dire enough as it was, and if even a handful of the Cult's masters joined me, more than half of what I'd have to worry about would simply vanish.

Of course, I hadn't expected every last one of them to come. It would be enough if only those who wanted to crossed over.

But before all that, I had to decide what to do with the Wei Cheonghan standing in front of me. Thanks to Samsik, interpretation was possible for now—but if the man wandered off, I'd be left unable to exchange a single word with Wei Cheonghan.

"You're from the Zhuge Family, aren't you?"

At my question, Samsik, who had been carefully reading the room, began to interpret.

"...How did you—?"

Wei Cheonghan asked with a shocked expression, but honestly, once you'd seen the formation arts the Chinese awakened were using, the answer practically wrote itself.

"There's no debt or grudge between the Zhuge Clan and my Cult. So why did you pull a stunt like this?"

"Ha! You think I did this out of fear of the Blood Sect ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and its ilk? Naturally, I merely intended to clear away the obstacles standing between me and the profits of this gate."

"I see. So that's it."

Watching Wei Cheonghan declare this with a defiant expression, I let out a short chuckle. In truth, the Zhuge Family had played no role whatsoever in the Great Murim War. And I had nothing in particular I wanted from them either—so there had never been any room for grudges to accumulate.

"I see. So we're the 'obstacles.'"

"...Wh-what are you doing?"

As I approached him with a smile, Wei Cheonghan shrank back and asked with wide, frightened eyes. Instead of answering, I seized his arm and began forcing my qi into it.

It was a torture technique that showed up fairly often in martial arts novels, though I had never once seen it actually used in Murim. Not for any humanitarian reason, mind you—it was simply that injecting qi into another person's body and controlling it from within was no easy feat. Naturally, I was capable of it.

"KKAAAAAAAAGH!"

Which meant that, from Wei Cheonghan's perspective, the agony he was feeling now had to be a horror beyond anything he had ever known in his life.

"I don't have any particular feelings about you either way. But since you attacked us first, I suppose I'll have to extract everything there is to extract, won't I?"

I said this to Wei Cheonghan as he foamed at the mouth. Frankly, there was little I actually wanted to know from him. The caliber of China's awakened was obvious just by looking at the man, and as for the Murim returnees—the moment the Blood Heavenly Cult's people crossed over, they wouldn't be worth worrying about at all.

And yet, under the pain of his bones and muscles seeming to rend themselves apart, the man was vomiting out every piece of information he possessed, coherent or not. The names and origins of the returnees in China, their relationships with the Chinese government—even weaknesses that bordered on private scandals. All of it.

No loyalty whatsoever, I thought—but then, the loyalty of orthodox sect types had always amounted to exactly that much.

I let most of his babbling flow in one ear and out the other.

"I'll have to hand this one over to Wei Jinsheng."

I muttered it while looking down at Wei Cheonghan, now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠half-broken and sprawled across the ground. When it came to matters involving China, Wei Jinsheng knew far more than I did—he'd be able to sift the useful tidbits out of this man's rambling.

"Samsik."

"Yes, Cult Leader."

"Make a trip to the Cult."

With Wei Jinsheng's business wrapped up, I called Samsik back and dispatched him on his errand, along with a few words of caution. One of them was to tell the people at the Cult that only those who wished to should cross over to Earth. Ideally, I'd have liked at least an entire martial division to come through, but if they didn't, it hardly mattered. I was indeed the one and only Cult Leader of the Blood Heavenly Cult—but I wasn't such trash that I'd force people who had lived their whole lives in Murim to abandon their homeland and follow me.

"Who would dare disobey the Cult Leader's command? If such a wretch exists, I'll wring his neck on the spot—"

I furrowed my brow at Samsik, who was gritting his teeth with indignation at the mere thought.

"No—where did you even get that from? That's exactly what I'm telling you not to do. Bring only the ones who want to come. Got it?"

What a headache it was, of all people, to entrust this task to Samsik—but there was no one else who could handle it right now.

Actually, should I just go myself?

The thought crossed my mind, but I soon shook my head. My brother-in-law might be there to hold down the fort, but leaving my post for an extended stretch felt uneasy all the same. And I was eager to deliver the news about my sister to the family as soon as possible.

"Then I shall depart."

"Samsik?"

I called out quickly, catching him just as he was about to dash off somewhere. Left to his own devices, he looked fully prepared to walk to China again—despite having just acquired the ability to move through space.

"Yes?"

"That door from earlier, remember? Couldn't you just open that and go?"

"...And how exactly would I open it?"

"...How would I know?"

I stared at him with a bewildered expression. If the man who'd gained the ability didn't know how to use it, there was no way I would.

"Hm. Then how did you open it a little while ago?"

"Well, I just pictured this place in my mind and— oh."

Samsik answered, then let out a short exclamation as the method dawned on him. And a moment later, I could see that strange sliding door materializing before him. When he opened it, a familiar space lay beyond—the very place in China where the formation I had created was anchored, spread out on the other side of the door.

"Hold on a moment."

I told Samsik, walked up to the gate, and reached out my hand. I wanted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to check whether I could pass through as well—but contrary to my expectations, my hand merely sliced through empty air, and the door didn't budge an inch.

So it's a user-only travel ability?

It was a little disappointing, but the so-called system messages tended to be maddeningly unhelpful, which meant there was still plenty worth studying here.

"For now, deliver my words to the Cult exactly as I've said them. This isn't exactly a pleasant place to live—but a new battlefield awaits. And be sure! Pick out only the ones who genuinely want to come. Never, ever, drag anyone here against their will."

"By your command!"

I drilled the warning into him one more time, and with a thunderous reply, Samsik hurled himself through the sliding door.

"Why do I feel so uneasy about this."

That was all I could mutter as I watched the space where Samsik had just been.

"What in tarnation is going on in there? Can't get a read on the situation at all, and it's chafing me raw."

Park Chulgyu, three stars gleaming on his chest, muttered as he glowered at the gate with a deeply frustrated expression. Quite some time had passed since the awakened of Japan, China, and South Korea had entered it. The mana waves from the gate were churning violently—clearly a fierce battle was underway—yet there was no signal that the raid had been completed, and no report of survivors emerging either. His insides were burning to ash.

"They're comin' out!"

The first to emerge from the gate were the Japanese awakened. The problem was that even at a glance, they looked absolutely wretched—and their numbers had thinned as well.

And yet, Park Chulgyu and the northern leadership were able to breathe a sigh of relief. Following the Tutorial Termination message, they had at least grasped that much: gate exits were impossible until the boss was dealt with. Which meant the boss had been dealt with.

"Hard work to ye all. So—the beast's been slain, has it?"

Swallowing the questions swirling in his head, Park Chulgyu went out to greet the Japanese awakened personally. But instead of answering, the Japanese contingent merely scrunched up their faces, declared they were returning home, and left.

It looked for all the world like a retreat, and so the puzzlement of Park Chulgyu and the northern leadership only deepened.

It was long after the Japanese had departed that anyone else emerged from the gate.

Probably that South ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Korean bastard, isn't it?

Park Chulgyu swallowed hard and readied himself at the entrance once more. A cleared gate meant handing over the considerable concessions promised to whoever cleared it—and thinking of what lay ahead, he needed to keep relations as warm as possible.

But what greeted Park Chulgyu's eyes was a scene his common sense simply could not process.

The first to step out of the gate was Lee Jaeseong, the southern awakened who radiated the dignity of an absolute sovereign. That much, he could understand. The soldiers feared the southern monster above all else, but to Park Chulgyu's eye, this man Lee Jaeseong was the true monster of them all.

The problem was the party that followed him out.

What first caught the northern general's eye was the young man dangling off the shoulder of that behemoth once called the Monster of the South like a sack of luggage. Now, the young man was a southern awakened himself, so seeing him emerge alongside Lee Jaeseong was nothing strange. The problem was that behind this young man, the man who had come as the Chinese representative was hanging—upside down.

"...No—wh-what in the world is this."

Faced with that grotesque tableau, Park Chulgyu couldn't help but blurt it out. For one thing, the southern monster's form was nowhere to be seen—which was strange in itself—and for another, none of the other awakened who had come from China were visible at all.

"Ah, the gate raid's finished, so we'll be taking our leave now."

But unlike the flustered Park Chulgyu, Lee Jaeseong said this with utter composure.

Naturally, Park Chulgyu could not let that pass. He was terrified of contradicting Lee Jaeseong outright, but this was all but certain to become a diplomatic incident if he simply swallowed it.

"...Y-you will have to explain what happened here."

Park Chulgyu asked in a trembling voice. And of course, his eyes were fixed on the Chinese representative.

"Explain what, exactly?"

"Well, where is the rest of your party—"

"Strange. There were three of us when we went in, and there are three of us now. What seems to be the problem?"

Park Chulgyu's jaw dropped at the sheer shamelessness of the answer. But within moments, he understood what Lee Jaeseong meant. The problem was that not everyone among the northern leadership present did.

"No—it's not about headcount. Why is the Chinese—"

"Shut yer gob, ya gutterspawn!"

Park Chulgyu bellowed at his own subordinate as the man pressed the issue toward Lee Jaeseong. Thinking it through, the matter was simple. Present here were the southern awakened, and the northern command. Which meant that if everyone agreed to pretend nothing had happened, it could be made to never have happened. The Chinese might come pressing for answers—but they could simply say the Chinese party had been wiped out inside the gate, and that would be the end of it.

"Indeed. Three, most assuredly. My congratulations on yer successful raid, comrade."

Park Chulgyu said it to Lee Jaeseong with a face gone stiff as stone. And at his reaction, Lee Jaeseong smiled with evident satisfaction.

"Good. How nice it is, when words get through."

"I'm sorry—someone appeared at the gate?"

Namgoong Hwi asked, his face drained white, staring at the subordinate delivering the report. And no wonder—the report was that Kang Samsik, the man who had emerged from that accursed gate before, had returned to Beijing once again.

The one mercy was that Namgoong Hwi had reinforced the perimeter around the gate and given strict orders: should anyone appear, under no circumstances were they to engage.

The Blood Sect's people were not ones you could hold a conversation with—but at least there was no need to go plucking their nose hairs for no reason.

"And the man himself? What is he doing now?"

"He... vanished back into the gate, sir."

Namgoong Hwi swallowed hard at the report. China's awakened had attempted to force their way into that gate's interior any number of times—and every single attempt had ended in failure.

"...You're certain?"

"Yes, sir. We have it on video."

Only after watching the footage his subordinate played did Namgoong Hwi let his suspicion go. He had no idea why that man alone could pass in and out of the gate as if it were his own bedroom—but that wasn't what mattered.

Should I be counting this as a blessing, at least?

What mattered was that the man had disappeared from the face of the Earth—and that fact alone let Namgoong Hwi breathe a little easier.

The problem was that the man might come back. But Namgoong Hwi made up his mind not to think about the worst-case scenarios creeping into his head. He was, if nothing else, the type to focus on what he could actually do in the present.

"The hole. I have to find a way to plug the hole."