How Could a Human Be Like This? (2)
“Opportunity” and Jang Il-so simply did not belong in the same sentence. That man was a demon who stole opportunities from others, toyed with them, and kicked them straight down into the deepest abyss.
But who could possibly remain unmoved by the word “opportunity”?
The people before him had no choice but to listen.
The wind swept past, lightly disheveling Jang Il-so’s neatly combed hair. A pale hand rose to brush back the stray strands with casual grace.
Then his mouth opened again, slow and deliberate.
“Truly... isn’t it moving?”
Jang Il-so’s gaze drifted slowly toward the rear. Even though the towering Black Dragon Ship would surely block the view, he spoke as if he meant to make perfectly clear just what this moving scene was.
The moment his eyes fell on Maehwado, several of Shaolin’s men flinched and shuddered. They still couldn’t bring themselves to look straight that way.
Turning his gaze back to Shaolin, Jang Il-so nodded as though impressed and went on.
“Life is precious to everyone. And yet those men are saying they’ll throw their own lives away—for the sake of chivalry and honor!”
A low, chuckling laugh rippled across the river.
It was truly impossible to tell. Since it was Jang Il-so who had spoken, the words should have been dripping with mockery—but his tone was full of admiration. Shaolin could only be thrown into confusion.
“Namgung proved it. They proved that the chivalry they cried out so loudly for was not merely empty words.”
He finally understood what it meant to be swallowed by words. Each sentence Jang Il-so spoke ensnared them.
And yet...
“Shut that mouth!”
Beop Jeong could not simply listen to Jang Il-so’s words obediently. He unleashed a thunderous lion’s roar to cut him off. But even that roar, which should have been mighty and resonant, was laced with urgency.
As if disaster would strike if that mouth was not sealed this very instant.
“You vile demon! Shaolin’s disciples must not be bewitched by his words. Keep your hearts pure!”
At that, Shaolin’s disciples looked toward Beop Jeong.
Keep their hearts pure? What had Jang Il-so said that was supposed to be so seductive?
“You don’t understand.”
“Th-...”
“I told you, didn’t I? I’m merely giving you a chance.”
When Jang Il-so gave a low laugh, Beop Gye’s face, standing beside Beop Jeong, twisted horribly. That loathsome smile dragged the memory of that day three years ago back into vivid clarity.
“What chance are you saying you’ll give us, you bastard!”
“Beop Gye!”
Beop Jeong hurriedly tried to clamp a hand over Beop Gye’s mouth, but once words had left the lips, there was no taking them back.
And as though he had been waiting for exactly those words, Jang Il-so’s red lips stretched into a broad grin.
“A chance for you to prove your chivalry.”
Beop Jeong’s eyes bloodshot with fury.
“You...”
The veins in his neck stood out sharply, his rage no longer hidden in the slightest.
But Jang Il-so only laughed harder at the sight of him, clearly delighted.
“Hahahahaha! Why so angry, Great Master?”
Then he spread both arms wide and gestured theatrically toward the rear.
“There! Right there!”
“...”
“To eradicate the demons of death!”
The hem of his robes fluttered as if dancing.
“To save the common people! To uphold that chivalry! The ones staking their lives on it are right there—before your very eyes!”
His grand, overblown tone made it feel like a stage performance, which should have been ridiculous, and yet that was precisely why no one could look away. When his arms slowly lowered, the monks of Shaolin found themselves holding their breath as well.
Jang Il-so began slowly dragging the atmosphere he had lifted so high back down again. His brows softened, suddenly sorrowful.
“But unfortunately... they’re dying now.”
A heavy sigh slipped from between his red lips.
“Those with serious injuries won’t last much longer. Exhausted completely, surrounded by the wicked dogs of our side, they’ll fall one by one after the rest. No matter how great the heroes are, if they’re stranded on an island with not a single grain of food, the outcome is obvious, isn’t it?”
Beop Jeong clenched the hem of his kasaya tightly in his fist. The surge of inner force had turned the ends of his robe to powder, yet he did not even notice. All he could do was glare at Jang Il-so as though he wanted to kill him on the spot.
“But fortunately...”
Then Jang Il-so’s clear gaze swept over everyone from Shaolin.
“There are heroes here who can save them.”
Snap.
The click of his fingers changed the entire mood at once.
“It’s not hard. Yes, not hard at all.”
“...”
“Saving people in danger is what a righteous hero should do, isn’t it? Right?”
Everyone in Shaolin bit down hard on their lips. Only then did they understand what Jang Il-so was trying to say.
“Of course, of course, there are obstacles. Those despicable Sapa bastards are blocking the way! But... that hardly seems like such a problem, does it? That Namgung family has already proved its chivalry with their lives. Surely you’re not going to tell me that Shaolin, of all places, can’t do the same?”
“Jang Il...”
Snap.
Before Beop Jeong could even finish, Jang Il-so snapped his fingers again.
“I’m giving you a chance.”
Beop Jeong wanted nothing more than to cover his ears.
That demon burrowed into the human heart. It seemed to know instinctively exactly where the weakest part of a person’s mind lay. He pushed into that weakest place, tore the wound open, scattered salt in it, and ground it under his heel.
“Starting from the rising of the sun on the fifth day from now, we’ll enter that island again.”
A faintly excited note slipped into Jang Il-so’s voice.
“Then everyone will die... not a single one left behind. Every last person bearing the Namgung name.”
Beop Jeong’s fingertips trembled.
“So, before five days pass, you must decide. Will you stand by and watch them die at our hands, or will you fight us, open a path, and save them?”
“Jang Il-sooooo!”
Another enormous roar burst from Beop Jeong’s mouth.
“How can a human do such a thing? Wearing a human skin, how can you...!”
It was, without question, righteous fury.
Setting aside Beop Jeong’s own history for the moment, taking hundreds of lives hostage and dragging yet another set of victims into a trap of death was unquestionably something no human being should be able to do.
But Jang Il-so tilted his head as though he could not understand Beop Jeong’s outrage at all.
“Are you saying that to me, Great Master?”
“You wretched bastard! If not you, then who else would it be?”
“Ah, I thought...”
Jang Il-so let out an openly mocking laugh.
“You were speaking to yourself, Great Master.”
Beop Jeong bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Isn’t that right? You all watched. You watched with your own eyes as they were being torn apart by the Water Bandit Sect’s pirates, trampled beneath my feet.”
Jang Il-so’s eyes pinned everyone from Shaolin in place.
It was truly strange. Jang Il-so was a vile Sapa fiend, while these people stood as righteous heroes defending the world from such Sapa. And yet not a single soul here could face that cruel commander directly.
What had made them avert their eyes was not Jang Il-so. It was the conscience living inside their own hearts. Jang Il-so had reached straight for that conscience.
“How can you, wearing a human skin, let that happen? Hm? And not just anywhere, but Shaolin—Shaolin, which claims to uphold chivalry across the Central Plains? My, my...”
“You little bastard!”
Beop Jeong exploded in anger. If the distance had been any shorter, he would have struck Jang Il-so dead in a single blow.
But unfortunately, a river ran between them, and all Beop Jeong could do now was spew helpless fury into the air.
“Hahahahahahaha!”
Amused beyond measure by Beop Jeong’s reaction, Jang Il-so laughed like a child.
“Why are you so angry, Great Master? Shouldn’t you be happy? No matter how much chivalry you claim to hold in your heart, if you’re denied the chance to prove it, you can’t be called a hero, can you?”
It was as if the words were asking the opposite question.
You’ve all been spouting off about protecting chivalry, but can you really stake your lives on it? Or have you already stopped once because your lives meant too much to you?
I want to close my eyes.
I want to cover my ears.
Everyone in Shaolin realized it. No matter how differently they acted from this moment on, it would not erase the fact that they had already stopped in front of Namgung, who had fallen into a desperate situation just moments ago.
They had already betrayed the very chivalry they spoke of so grandly.
Why had they stopped? Because Beop Jeong ordered it?
No.
The truth was that they had been afraid. Afraid of throwing their lives away for someone else. Even though they had always believed that this was something they ought to do, the moment they were truly given the chance to do it for the first time, what had seized their ankles was the desire not to die.
Beop Jeong had merely handed them a pretext. A pretext for stopping, and for shifting the blame elsewhere.
“Ah, Amitabha.”
“Amitabha.”
Soft invocations of the Buddha drifted up from all around. That alone showed how badly their hearts were wavering.
Jang Il-so dragged out the truth they wished to avoid and carved it into their flesh, their bones, their very hearts.
“So go on, and prove it to me to your heart’s content.”
Jang Il-so’s lips parted, revealing white teeth.
“Whether you really are the sort of people who can give everything for chivalry, as you’ve always shouted.”
“Profiting...”
“Or whether you’re nothing more than hypocrites who have taken advantage of that so-called chivalry for your own gain.”
Jang Il-so tapped his lips lightly with a fingernail.
“With those... magnificent lives of yours.”
“...”
“If it’s this Jang Il-so and the Saperyeon, then we’ll be a worthy opponent for them.”
Jang Il-so drove in the final nail.
“Remember this. Five days. That should be more than enough time for you to think it over. Be deeply grateful for my mercy, Great Master! Ahahahahaha!”
Having finished, he turned away, whipping his red robes behind him as though Shaolin meant nothing at all to him. There was not the slightest trace of hesitation.
No one stopped him as he slowly vanished into the Black Dragon Ship.
No one proved their chivalry against him.
They only ground their teeth and glared with bloodshot eyes at the river that had done them no wrong.
“...Amitabha.”
A hollow invocation slipped from Beop Jeong’s lips.
The Black Dragon Ship blocking their path, the tightly packed Saperyeon fleet, and beyond that, Maehwado. Beop Jeong took in the scattered figures of Namgung swordsmen with his own eyes, and in the end, he closed them.
“Amitabha...”
They should never have heard him. They should have known it was already too late the moment the demon began whispering into their ears.
He was too afraid to look back. Too afraid to see what expression the disciples standing behind him might be wearing.
This place...
Beop Jeong covered his face with one hand, utterly dazed.
This place is hell.
Where a demon exists. That place is hell.