Chapter 102
Chapter 102
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 102
>Chapter Title: Misunderstanding (2)
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It had been a while since he started beating Mak Ho-yeol with the mindset of seeing just how long he would keep enjoying it.
“Hoo. Hoo.”
As Il-mok, now starting to sweat, let out rough breaths.
“Heok. Heok.”
Mak Ho-yeol, who had been gleefully pummeled, was also rolling on the ground, panting heavily.
Pushed to his absolute limits while facing Il-mok's sword—where the gap in their skills was all too clear—Mak Ho-yeol spoke with his face flushed red and a delighted expression.
“Heok. I'll ask you for a match next time too, Junior Il-mok.”
Il-mok felt goosebumps rise all over his body.
Even after getting thrashed like that, to blush and enjoy it.
They say you can't spit in the face of someone smiling.
In truth, the really frightening thing was the opposite. The guy who gets spat on and still laughs, calling it a reward—that was the truly scary and dangerous one.
‘Damn. Can't even kill him.’
After a moment of contemplation, Il-mok let out a sigh and shouted.
“Don't ever come find me again!”
Il-mok turned his back and walked away.
If something couldn't be resolved, avoidance was the best course of action. And on top of that.
‘Damn obsession.’
Right now, his priority was cleaning the sword that had gotten filthy from beating the pervert and washing his body.
As Il-mok prepared to leave the clearing, Baek-cheon hurriedly chased after him.
“Young Master Il-mok! What on earth happened at Mang-a Ridge? Your skills have improved by leaps and bounds!”
Baek-cheon wanted to hear about the events at Mang-a Ridge to gain some inspiration.
Right after Il-mok and Baek-cheon left the clearing.
“......”
“......”
Only Mak Ho-yeol, collapsed on the ground, and Jeong-hyeon, who didn't know what to do, remained, creating an awkward atmosphere.
“You there.”
“Yes!?”
Startled by the sudden call from Mak Ho-yeol, Jeong-hyeon jumped anyway, but Mak Ho-yeol boisterously laughed and said.
“Could you help support me? My body's not cooperating at all. Hahaha.”
It had felt great while getting hit, but now that the fight was over, Mak Ho-yeol had no strength left to move.
“S-S-Support... you?”
Jeong-hyeon's face turned pale.
To press up close and support a complete stranger with no prior connection. Just imagining it made his breath catch in his throat.
“I-I'm s-s-sorry!”
Unable to withstand the pressure, Jeong-hyeon hurriedly bowed in apology and bolted out of the clearing.
“......”
Mak Ho-yeol, lying on the ground, could only stare vacantly at Jeong-hyeon's retreating back.
* * *
Ignoring Baek-cheon, who was like sticky rice, Il-mok returned to the Black Dragon Pavilion and first tended to his sword.
‘It's filthy. Covered in grime.’
He sharpened the sword that had gotten dirty from beating the pervert, then washed his body in the bathhouse.
And the thing that greeted Il-mok upon returning to his quarters after so long was a familiar object.
“Phew. Come to think of it, I haven't used this for seven whole days.”
The diary he had been writing almost every single day since joining the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
Il-mok began writing in his diary to drive away his obsessive tendencies.
- It's been so long, your handwriting's all off.
- Did you already forget how to write?
- That happened on the fourth day, not the third.
To be precise, it was a ploy to temporarily hand his body over to another self through the diary, blocking even stronger obsessions from taking hold.
Whether because he had to write seven days' worth of entries, or because he'd gone through so many bizarre events at Mang-a Ridge.
The diary seemed endless no matter how much he wrote, and in the end, Il-mok could only set down his brush around midnight.
“Phew.”
Still, after finishing all the entries, Il-mok felt refreshingly unburdened somewhere deep inside.
As soon as the ink dried, he closed the book and headed straight to his bed.
“Home is still the best.”
Perhaps because he'd lived there for a few months, or maybe because he'd come back from the harsh environment of Mang-a Ridge, his bed felt especially cozy.
With his body and mind finally at ease, Il-mok fell fast asleep.
And the next morning.
The morning at the Demonic Path Academy after seven days contained a few unexpected changes.
“Hm? Cadet Jeong, what brings you here?”
During the first training session led by Instructor Chu Il-hwan.
There was still some time left, so neither Chu Il-hwan nor the assistants had arrived yet, and the Class A cadets had gathered first.
And for some reason, Class B cadet Jeong-hyeon was there with them.
As Jeong-hyeon, standing a spear's length away, took deep breaths to calm himself and finally opened his mouth in response to Il-mok's question.
“Cadet Jeong has been promoted to Class A this time.”
Bang Mi-hwa suddenly interjected, holding her nose high, fan covering her left cheek, and answered haughtily.
“Ah.”
Only then did Il-mok recall something.
It was something Jin Ha-yeon had mentioned in passing during the preparations to enter the academy.
‘Come to think of it, they said classes are periodically reassigned based on grades?’
Thinking about it, Jeong-hyeon had been in the same group as him for both the first and second exams.
Since the groups he was in had taken first place in both exams, Jeong-hyeon must have scored quite high.
As long as he hadn't bombed the last exam where Il-mok had failed, making it to Class A was only natural.
Having thought that far, Il-mok furrowed his brow.
“Does that mean I'm the one who has to go to Class B? Instructor Chu Il-hwan said my score on the last exam was a failing grade.”
“Hohoho. No need to worry. Young Master Il-mok got the top scores in both the first and second exams, so even with a failing grade on the third, you won't drop to Class B.”
Of course, with two first places, one last place wouldn't drag his average down that far.
As Il-mok nodded in moderate acceptance.
“But regrettably, Young Master Il-mok is no longer the top scorer. Sorry to say it to someone caught up in an incident, but thanks to the last exam, I've taken the top spot. Ohohohoho.”
Il-mok finally grasped the full situation from her haughty chin-up pose and boastful demeanor.
‘She came here to brag.’
She was always rather arrogant, but today she was especially full of herself.
But whether she acted superior or not, Il-mok felt no particular emotion.
To begin with, as long as it wasn't the Heavenly Demon or Jin Ha-yeon, Il-mok had no interest in being first or last.
Besides.
‘Well, there's still over a year and a half until graduation, so it'll work out somehow.’
Honestly, he didn't even think he'd lose in the remaining exams.
Thanks to being tormented by Elder Gang No-sa at Mang-a Ridge, his realm had risen pointlessly high.
Losing interest in her, Il-mok scanned the surroundings. To see if anyone else had changed besides Jeong-hyeon.
‘The Three Stooges are still here too.’
Choi Woong and the other two who always formed a human barricade during training were still in Class A, and Ha-young, Bang Mi-hwa's best friend, went without saying.
Moreover, Dokgo-pae had remained in Class A as well.
“How did Cadet Dokgo stay in Class A? He seemed to pick the dumbest thing to do every exam.”
In response to Il-mok's question, Bang Mi-hwa let out her signature haughty laugh and replied.
“Ohohoho. Isn't it because this is the Demonic Path Academy? No matter what, Cadet Dokgo fought in every exam, and at least his combat skills were decent enough.”
Il-mok could roughly understand what she meant.
‘All his other scores are in the gutter, but his martial arts grades are high enough to barely hang on in Class A.’
For some reason, hearing that explanation made him think of his senior brother Wi Jin-hak.
‘Come to think of it, they said Senior Brother never lost the top spot at the academy either.’
It was said that when it came to martial talent, Senior Brother was one of the best among the Heavenly Demon's disciples.
He had an inferiority complex about his intelligence, but according to Jin Ha-yeon's assessment, he was at least average.
In the end, his other scores were ordinary, but he'd held onto the top spot with overwhelming martial prowess.
‘Hm. So Senior Brother is basically an upgraded version of this Dokgo-pae guy?’
The thought crossed his mind. For some reason, he imagined Senior Brother had a similar personality back when he was an academy cadet, just like this Dokgo-pae.
Was it because Dokgo-pae's face overlapped with Senior Brother's in his mind?
As he glanced at Dokgo-pae. Unfortunately, Dokgo-pae turned his head, and their eyes met.
Il-mok naturally expected a sparring challenge, but Dokgo-pae rushed over and said something strange.
“Young Master Il-mok! I heard from Brother Mak!”
“!?”
Heard? Heard what?
As Il-mok felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding. Dokgo-pae, now right up close, continued.
“He said you sparred with him and gave him some pointers!”
Il-mok's expression crumpled on its own.
‘Pointers? What pointers? All I remember is beating him half to death?’
As expected, he couldn't understand the pervert's way of thinking.
* * *
That afternoon.
After finishing all his training, Il-mok, as usual, enjoyed his ritual bath and dinner. Then he wandered the Demonic Path Academy using Stealth Steps.
‘The clearing is dangerous.’
He wanted to hide there in concealment, but now it was known to everyone as his spot. After all, hadn't Mak Ho-yeol shown up there yesterday afternoon?
How long had he been wandering with Stealth Steps to avoid the academy's countless lunatics?
A peculiar conversation drifted into Il-mok's ears.
“I just can't understand how someone with that level of skill climbed to Class A.”
“It's all thanks to the youngest young master, isn't it?”
Since he was suddenly mentioned, Il-mok stopped in his tracks.
They say even kings get cursed behind their backs, so gossip was inevitable, but if caught, he'd have to take responsibility.
“Watch your words. It's true I made it to Class A thanks to Young Master Il-mok, but how is that his fault?”
“That's true.”
But upon listening, the target of the gossip wasn't Il-mok himself.
‘Reminds me of what happened with Joo Seo-yeon early on?’
Back then too, when Joo Seo-yeon kept clinging to him, weird rumors had spread.
He thought it might be trash-talking Joo Seo-yeon again this time, but with "Class A" mentioned, it couldn't be her.
And Il-mok easily deduced who the target was.
Three men and one woman—their subject of slander was none other than Jeong-hyeon.
Unable to fathom why they were badmouthing Jeong-hyeon, Il-mok cautiously approached them.
“I could at least accept it if he had real skill. What do you think? Am I lacking compared to that Cadet Jeong-hyeon?”
Only after hearing the central male cadet's words did Il-mok remember who he was.
‘One of the original Class A guys.’
He was the one who had dropped to Class B when Jeong-hyeon got promoted to Class A.
‘Tch. Jealousy, huh.’
It seemed like he was venting his anger through gossip after being overtaken by someone who'd scored lower than him before.
The other three appeared to be from Class B, but they were joining in on slandering Jeong-hyeon, who had risen alone.
It was a common sight in fiercely competitive schools back in modern Korea. It often appeared as fodder for dramas and novels.
And it wasn't limited to school days.
Il-mok had seen it occasionally at civil service exam academies while preparing for the test, and among university students too.
Even during his time as a civil servant, it was a frequent scene. Cases where colleagues, juniors, or close seniors ahead in promotions lost their minds to jealousy.
Regardless of age, anyone human felt jealousy.
So, as a fellow human, Il-mok could understand feeling jealous. But.
“It's absurd. From what I've observed over the past three months of training together, Cadet Jeong's skills were abysmal.”
“Yes. Honestly, with that level of skill, I'm suspicious how he even got into the Demonic Path Academy.”
Their conversation, which denigrated Jeong-hyeon's abilities, was utterly incomprehensible to him.