Who the Hell Is Calling This a Duel? You’re Dead Now. (2)
“How did it go?”
“...Surprisingly, there hasn’t been much reaction.”
“Oh?”
Baek Sang glanced at Baek Cheon’s face and answered cautiously.
“Yes. They’re clearly furious, but they aren’t openly resisting. They haven’t even said anything that could turn into a problem.”
“Hm. Really?”
Baek Cheon’s brows drew together slightly.
This is a little different from what I expected.
Weren’t they at the age where their blood ran hot? He had thought a little provocation would be enough to make them snap. And that was the situation Baek Cheon intended to create in the end.
Mount Hua was a prestigious orthodox sect.
Among the things most despised in such a sect, there were exactly two: the demonic way and insubordination.
Neither could be tolerated under any circumstances. The former was tied to Mount Hua’s identity as a sect that upheld the orthodox path, and the latter would overturn Mount Hua’s history and hierarchy.
He had planned to irritate the third-generation disciples until they lost their temper, then frame it neatly as insubordination so they would never dare resist again. But... surprisingly, the third-generation disciples were enduring the pressure from the second-generation disciples quite well.
“Isn’t the pressure too weak?”
“Going any further is impossible. If we push them harder, the process of settling the issue could end up turning against us as well.”
“Hmm.”
Baek Cheon let out a low murmur, clearly dissatisfied.
So they’re not just hotheads with no brains, then?
Thinking of Chung Myung, whom he’d seen in the dining hall, he’d expected the boy to have already lunged at them. But instead of losing control, he was restraining himself—and even keeping the other third-generation disciples in check.
Or is that Yoon Jong’s doing?
Whichever the reason, it was obvious things were not developing the way Baek Cheon had hoped.
“What about the other third-generation disciples?”
“Aside from the fact that, at a glance, they seem to be doing some very strange training... not much else.”
Baek Cheon idly tapped his own cheek with a finger.
“I see.”
“Sahyung. We can’t keep dragging this out. We don’t know when the sasuks will start looking displeased, and Hwajong Jihoe isn’t far off anymore. We need to start preparing for that soon too.”
“I know.”
Baek Cheon gave a slight nod.
“We’ve simmered them enough. Now it’s time to ladle out the soup.”
“And then?”
At Baek Sang’s question, Baek Cheon smiled faintly before continuing.
“As you know, the Cheong generation disciples were all good kids to begin with.”
“That’s true. Before we came out of closed cultivation, they were all so innocent. I never imagined they’d change so much in just one year...”
“That’s because they got tangled up with one rotten bastard. Do we really need to punish every one of those Cheong generation kids? The problem is only Chung Myung.”
“You’re absolutely right, Sahyung.”
Baek Sang agreed completely.
The third-generation disciples, along with Yoon Jong as their representative, weren’t difficult children to handle. Jo Gul was a little exceptional, sure, but he was the sort of child Baek Sang could deal with on his own without Baek Cheon having to step in.
The problem was Chung Myung.
Hadn’t it been said that those who live with ink grow black?
The third-generation disciples had been perfectly normal, but after spending time with Chung Myung, they had all become strange.
At the very least, the third-generation disciples they had known before had known how to respect their superiors and understood that the words of their sasuks mattered more than those of their peers.
It was Chung Myung who had changed them.
Which meant that if they could only clip Chung Myung’s nose, the other third-generation disciples would naturally become obedient again, just as they used to be.
“Then what do you plan to do?”
“Junior brother.”
“Yes, Sahyung.”
Baek Cheon smiled pleasantly.
“Do we need any special method? What we’re doing now is simply upholding Mount Hua’s rules, isn’t it?”
“Of course, Sahyung.”
“There’s no room for personal feelings here. Chung Myung is still my precious sajil, after all. He may be a bit insolent, but if we guide him properly, he’ll become a fine piece of timber. So we’re only correcting him while he’s still young and hasn’t gone too far astray.”
Baek Cheon wore a subtle smile.
“The only issue is the method. If possible, I would have preferred not to use rough measures, but time isn’t on our side, so there’s no help for it. Talking is the best way to discipline a child, but sometimes a beating is necessary, don’t you think?”
Baek Sang nodded with obvious approval.
“One day, they’ll understand Sahyung’s deeper intentions.”
“They will. Even if it hurts a little now.”
The two of them looked at each other and smiled in agreement.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The door to Baekmae Hall creaked open just a crack.
Then a small head poked out.
A face that had only peeked outside enough to scan the surroundings frowned faintly.
Gone?
Like a midnight guest slipping in through the dark, Chung Myung sharpened his senses and checked the area.
Nothing was there. No people, either.
Chung Myung let out a low sigh and stepped outside.
“Ugh.”
What the hell am I even doing?
Dragging his feet, he emerged from Baekmae Hall and looked up at the sky with a dead expression, as though his soul had already left his body.
“Grand Sect Brother. Are you seeing this?”
The one the sect leader had cherished and adored most in the world...
- What?
Ah, don’t get pissed off from the start. At least hear me out and then get angry, will you? A man should have some patience! You’re the Mount Hua Sect Leader, for crying out loud!
Chung Myung’s face twisted violently.
“Anyway, I’m out here hiding from a bunch of brats who still have baby fat on their faces. Does that even make sense?”
He tried to pour his grievances into the void, but unfortunately, he received no answer from Chung Mun.
“And that’s not all. Some little girl keeps grilling me like I’ve got something to hide, and some pretty-boy punk comes strutting in with some bizarre rules no one’s ever heard of and keeps badgering me. Ugh, I’d rather just die.”
If he were being honest, he wanted to flip the whole place over for real. These youngsters were causing such a racket that he felt like grabbing the sect leader and spanking him for what he’d been doing all this time.
Those things who hadn’t even been born when Chung Myung had led Mount Hua across the world were now swaggering around calling themselves sasuks, and just looking at them made him feel almost enlightened.
If he headed straight to Shaolin now, they’d probably welcome him at once as a rare enlightened master who had realized the Buddhist law. Seriously.
“Ha! What crime did I commit in my previous life... Well, a lot of crimes, actually.”
Honestly, he couldn’t even complain in good conscience. Thinking of all the things he had done back when he was a second-generation disciple, a first-generation disciple of Mount Hua, he couldn’t even pretend he was having a hard time now. What had Chung Mun and the other sect leaders gone through because of him?
“Why was I like that?”
Moisture gathered in Chung Myung’s eyes.
I should’ve held back a little.
It felt like all the karma from his past life was coming back at him at once. Being forced to coax and guide a bunch of little monsters who barely looked human...
Ah, so that’s why Grand Sect Brother never got married in his previous life. He must’ve been afraid of having a child like me.
Sorry, Grand Sect Brother.
I thought you never married because you weren’t handsome enough...
With a long, suffering sigh, Chung Myung trudged out of the mountain gate. In the old Mount Hua, there would have been guards stationed even at this hour, but the current Mount Hua no longer kept watch when there were no visitors.
The reason was simple.
Until recently, Mount Hua had been a place where even a beggar would toss away a coin and leave, so there hadn’t been much point in assigning guards.
The one who had turned that Mount Hua into a place where people could actually live was Chung Myung.
And yet those ungrateful bastards! An old man had worked himself to the bone turning this dump into a place fit for human beings, and instead of being grateful—!
He wanted nothing more than to beat the daylights out of every last one of them, but...
“Ugh. Yeah, I can’t do that either.”
It was strange, but lately Yoon Jong’s face kept overlapping with Grand Sect Brother’s in his mind. Comparing Yoon Jong to the burly, mountain-bandit-looking face of Grand Sect Brother was extremely rude to Yoon Jong, but it wasn’t the face that was alike—it was the expression.
Whenever Chung Myung did something, Yoon Jong would wear this look of utter internal ruin...
It makes me feel guilty for some reason.
It was hard to ignore when he looked like Grand Sect Brother had come back to life only to groan in despair all over again.
“Tsk.”
Smacking his lips, Chung Myung shook his head.
“I’ll endure it until this Hwajong Jihoe or whatever the hell it is ends.”
Honestly, Chung Myung felt just as much like turning the Zhongnan bastards upside down and shaking them out. Even if he didn’t like those Baek generation brats, they still couldn’t be compared to Zhongnan.
The Baek generation were bastards he wanted to kick in the ass. Zhongnan were bastards he wanted to strangle.
Like Yoon Jong said, it was best to hold back until Hwajong Jihoe was over.
That was the right thing to do, but...
“Ugh. At this rate I’m gonna lose my temper and cause some real trouble.”
Until Hwajong Jihoe was over, it was best to avoid running into the Baek generation as much as possible.
Chung Myung started up the mountain by a different path than usual.
I’m never going to Yeonhwabong again.
A person could be caught twice, but not three times. If the same thing happened three times, could you still call yourself a person?
Chung Myung turned his head and looked toward Nagan Peak.
“Damn it. What kind of fate is this? I can’t even train the way I want anymore.”
Would he rather die than suffer? No, he’d rather suffer than die?
Even now, other sects were probably full of ancient monsters who had spent nearly a hundred years in cultivation and were growing stronger by the second.
He had no time to rest if he wanted to close that gap. Being strong among his peers meant nothing at all.
For Mount Hua to rise again as one of the Gupailbang... no, for it to surpass even that and recreate its former glory, and further still to make its name known as the strongest sword sect in the world, there had to be a master capable of suppressing those old monsters.
And no matter how hard he looked, the only one in Mount Hua who could fill that role was Chung Myung himself.
Well, maybe there was another way.
Fifty years? A hundred?
If he was willing to aim for the title of strongest sword sect in the world that far down the line, then maybe he could raise Jo Gul or Yoon Jong and make something of them. Baek Cheon was talented too, even if he had no damn manners, so if his crooked foundation were properly straightened out, there was potential there.
But the problem was that Chung Myung did not have the personality to wait that long peacefully.
“Fifty years, my ass.”
I’d die of frustration before then.
Chung Myung trudged up Nagan Peak and slowly drew his sword. Then he glanced around.
No one, right?
That troublemaker—or whatever the hell she was—had stuck to him like glue ever since that day.
At least when she was moving with the other Cheong generation disciples, she seemed to restrain herself. But the moment Chung Myung was alone, she would somehow appear and keep pestering him, asking if they could just talk for a little while.
If she made enough noise to be noticed, he could simply avoid her in advance. But for some reason, Yu I-seol’s presence was hard to detect even with Chung Myung’s senses.
What is she, a ghost?
There were people whose presence was faint because their sensing of qi was weak, but Yu I-seol’s presence was so thin even Chung Myung found it startling.
And Chung Myung, who was used to sensing people through qi rather than sight or hearing, was especially vulnerable to that...
“Chung Myung.”
“Aaaagh!”
Exactly like this.
Chung Myung nearly shot to his feet and stumbled backward in alarm. Yu I-seol’s face came into view, one hand half-extended toward him.
“No! Seriously! Make some noise when you show up!”
As Chung Myung barked the words, Yu I-seol frowned faintly.