Chapter 126
Chapter 126
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 126
>Chapter Title: The Man with Demonic Charms (1)
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While Il-mok was enjoying a long midday nap.
Just like him, club activities were in full swing all throughout the Demonic Path Academy.
“Hahahahaha!”
“Ohohohoho!”
Under the pretext of vocal training, Baek Cheon and Bang Mi-hwa were letting out hearty laughs in that familiar open clearing.
“Haa…”
“Haa…”
A few steps away, watching the two of them, Jeong Hyeon and Instructor Eun Ryeo let out simultaneous sighs, perfectly capturing the atmosphere of the drama club.
Amidst several other clubs actively continuing their activities.
One member among those diligently lifting iron weights in a corner of the training ground under the name of the Physical Beauty Club looked particularly uncomfortable.
“Dokgo Cadet. If your muscles feel off, it might be better to rest a day instead of forcing your training.”
At the advice from Cheok Il-so, the instructor in charge of the Physical Beauty Club, Dokgo Pae shook his head.
“My body’s fine, Instructor.”
“Hmm. Then it seems something’s weighing on your mind. Instead of brooding alone, why don’t you open up to this instructor honestly!”
He spoke while flexing his chest muscles as if to say, trust only me.
True to the name Physical Beauty Club, they were all stripped to the waist while training their muscles, to inspect each other’s more closely.
Of course, it was a sight Il-mok would find repulsive and turn away from immediately.
At the words of the reliable, muscle-bound Instructor Cheok Il-so, Dokgo Pae steeled himself and spoke up.
“Truth is, what happened during the last exam has been bothering me.”
“The last exam?”
“Yes. I mean the part where I teamed up on Il-mok Cadet, which wasn’t befitting of a Divine Cult warrior.”
Though he’d been swayed by Gwak Sul’s eloquence into joining, Dokgo Pae couldn’t shake the lingering unease.
And that unease wasn’t fading with time—in fact, it was only growing stickier.
“I wanted to study Il-mok Cadet’s martial arts more closely to improve my own skills, but it felt too cowardly, Instructor.”
Cheok Il-so burst into booming laughter at Dokgo Pae’s grumbling, his bare upper body muscles rippling in time with it.
“Hahaha! You were fretting over something so simple! If something’s nagging at you, just man up, go find him, and apologize—that’s it. Ah! But if it’s just words, it might seem insincere, so how about this?”
“???”
“Il-mok Cadet joined some weird meditation club or whatever, so you show him some goodwill.”
“Goodwill? What kind?”
“Hehehe. The muscle training method I personally taught only to you all. Something I didn’t share during external arts class. Pass one secret technique on to Il-mok Cadet. For the sake of my precious charge, Dokgo Cadet, I’ll turn a blind eye.”
“!!!”
Dokgo Pae gazed at Cheok Il-so with a deeply moved expression.
“This Dokgo Pae is overwhelmed by Instructor’s vast magnanimity!”
“Hahaha!! Of course! Plus, if Il-mok Young Master is impressed by the secret technique you share, he might even transfer to our club—one stone, two birds!”
“As expected of you, Instructor!”
Cheok Il-so roared with laughter again, Dokgo Pae joined in with his own guffaws, and even Mak Ho-yeol, listening nearby, laughed along heartily.
As the three shook their muscles while laughing uproariously, Gwak Sul—who was lifting the lightest weight alone nearby—sighed inwardly.
‘Is it really worth stressing over that much?’
No, they’d ganged up five against one and still lost—why bother apologizing?
Two months in, and he still couldn’t comprehend that mindset.
Nor was Dokgo Pae the only one who didn’t get it.
“But would Il-mok Cadet really want to learn muscle training methods?”
To Gwak Sul, those three—who assumed Il-mok would be thrilled—seemed utterly insane. But.
“Hahaha! What nonsense, Gwak Sul Cadet!”
“Indeed. Given Il-mok Young Master’s exceptional insight, he must be diligently practicing external arts as well.”
“Instructor Cheok and Brother Dokgo are right! Junior Il-mok would surely be delighted!”
“Hahaha!”
“Uhahahaha!!”
At their response, devoid of even a shred of doubt, Gwak Sul shut his mouth.
The sudden urge to crack open their skulls and study their brains crossed his mind.
‘Probably made of muscle too.’
He shook his head at the obvious thought.
* * *
After enjoying a refreshing nap during the half-shichen club session, Il-mok headed back to Black Dragon Hall.
“Il-mok Young Master!!”
An unexpected intruder made Il-mok’s face crumple on instinct.
Of all people, it was Dokgo Pae.
‘Damn. If I draw my sword now, I might really lose it.’
A bad feeling that this madman would make him draw his blade again.
But what do you know. Dokgo Pae, rushing over, immediately bowed his head in a fist salute.
“I’m sorry about last time.”
“???”
As Il-mok looked puzzled, Dokgo Pae added.
“I mean the team-up during the last exam. It wasn’t manly of me. I know you’re disappointed in me. I’ve got nothing to say, even with ten mouths.”
Il-mok wore a strange expression.
His mood was foul from the demonic arts rampage, but he held no special grudge against those who’d ganged up on him then.
He’d have done the same in that exam if facing an unusually strong opponent alone.
Still, the voluntary apology didn’t feel bad.
So, as he prepared to accept it graciously, Dokgo Pae dropped something unexpected.
“To make up for it, let me share something good with you, Young Master.”
“Something good?”
Intrigued, Il-mok eyed Dokgo Pae curiously.
“A fantastic muscle training method taught by Instructor Cheok Il-so!”
“…”
Il-mok sighed at Dokgo Pae’s follow-up.
‘I’m the idiot for expecting anything.’
Classic thinking from a martial arts fanatic. Sharing a training method as an apology.
“No need.”
At Il-mok’s firm refusal, Dokgo Pae pondered.
‘This is truly excellent—how can I explain it in words!’
He realized his poor eloquence couldn’t convey the method’s merits.
Shifting his thinking—thanks to advice from Gwak Sul.
When he’d asked how to think, Gwak Sul had said: When no solution comes, change your perspective.
‘Right! If words fail, show with the body! A smart Young Master like Il-mok will get my sincerity!’
Resolved, Dokgo Pae grabbed his training robe with his hands.
Riiip!
He tore off the top with brute force.
His chest and arm muscles throbbed as if about to burst from the rough exertion.
Flex.
Striking a pose to show off his muscles, Dokgo Pae asked confidently.
“See? Impressive, right?”
“……”
“This is all thanks to that method. So, won’t you join me, Young Master?”
The pulsing grotesque muscles—and sweat droplets accentuating them—captured Il-mok’s gaze.
Chop off that filthy muscle whole!!
His hygiene obsession was on the verge of exploding.
* * *
The next morning.
Ahead of the usual martial arts class, Il-mok headed to the training ground.
‘He was pretty well-behaved yesterday?’
Ma Do-yeong, who’d taken over as martial arts instructor after the dismissed Chu Il-hwan. Also the meditation club instructor, he’d quietly watched Il-mok’s nap during yesterday’s club time.
Of course, one day of good behavior didn’t erase suspicions about him.
‘Wonder how he’ll act.’
As Il-mok mulled over Ma Do-yeong, an unwelcome call came from behind.
“Il-mok Young Master!”
Turning at Dokgo Pae’s voice, Il-mok’s face crumpled horribly.
He couldn’t fathom why this lunatic kept clinging to him.
‘What, not some phone scam or cult—ah, he is a cultist. Damn.’
Finally realizing the root of all issues.
But knowing the culprit didn’t solve it.
Since that cult’s leader was his own master.
They say unsolvable problems are the biggest stress. Feeling cornered, Il-mok sighed deeply.
‘Just cut him down?’
As his right hand twitched toward the scabbard.
Dokgo Pae, now close, shouted with an incomprehensible look.
“Why are you like this? I said I’d share something good as my apology!”
“…No need.”
“Trust me a little! Look, even Gwak Cadet joined us and learned so much—he’s changed hugely!”
Pointing as he spoke, there was Gwak Sul, already out on the training ground.
Like Jeong Hyeon promoted to A-class after the third exam, Gwak Sul had risen to A-class after the sixth.
He’d gotten good results bossing Dokgo Pae around in past exams, and his skills had surged from nonstop torment by Dokgo Pae and Mak Ho-yeol.
Seeing Dokgo Pae point at him, Gwak Sul—Stockholm syndrome patient—approached voluntarily.
“You called, Vice President Dokgo?”
Physical Beauty Club vice president, shortened to Dokgo VP. Dokgo Pae nodded and said.
“Il-mok Young Master won’t believe me, so you tell him. How much you’ve grown with us!”
Il-mok, overhearing, looked at Gwak Sul with deep pity.
‘Must be suffering terribly.’
Feeling Il-mok’s sympathetic gaze, Gwak Sul spoke in a displeased tone.
“It’s all because of Il-mok Cadet.”
“…What? Because of me?”
“I heard Il-mok Cadet gave Dokgo VP some advice. And because of that, he came for me, right?”
Suffering kidnapping and confinement because of Il-mok, he couldn’t bear the culprit pitying him.
To Il-mok, it was just absurd.
‘Advice from me? Wait, that time before? Told him to use his brain?’
No, he’d just suggested thinking more—and now resentment for that?
It was beyond unfair—utterly ridiculous.
He hadn’t even mentioned Gwak Sul while advising.
As Il-mok opened his mouth to protest the absurdity, a shout laced with inner power echoed across the training ground.
“Silence!”
It was Ma Do-yeong, martial arts instructor and Il-mok’s club supervisor.
“Time’s up—stop chatting and focus on training.”
At his command, A-class cadets took positions across the training ground and began practicing their arts with weapons.
Dokgo Pae dragged Gwak Sul off to swing swords, Bang Mi-hwa took a spot with Ha Yeong.
Jeong Hyeon had already settled in a remote corner, firing arrows nonstop.
“Whew.”
Il-mok sighed deeply and, as always, set the three as his curtain of propriety while lazily swinging his sword.
Meanwhile.
As the cadets began their individual training, new instructor Ma Do-yeong patrolled the training ground, glancing over them.
“You’re putting in too much unnecessary force. Relax your wrist at the end and focus more on your inner power.”
“Don’t hesitate. Let your body follow the form’s flow naturally instead of forcing it—you’ll execute it much smoother.”
Not appointed instructor for nothing, he casually offered advice to the cadets.
Patrolling and advising, he soon reached Il-mok and the trio.
All four belonged to the meditation club he oversaw, so they were familiar.
Easily piercing the curtain of propriety, he spotted Il-mok lazily swinging his sword in the center.
Ma Do-yeong’s forehead vein bulged again as he glared piercingly at Il-mok, cold sweat beading on the trio shielding him.
‘Please!!’
‘No. Even so, with the instructor right there…’
‘What grudge do we have against you to deserve this?!’