Chapter 196
Chapter 196
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 196
>Chapter Title: Nanju's Night (2)
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A single pavilion granted by the Nanju Branch Leader.
Il-mok sat there in the lotus position, gazing down at the millennium snow ginseng.
'To think a spirit herb would pop up right when I was regretting not gaining any enlightenment after the life-and-death duel.'
It was probably something the Nancheon Association Leader had stockpiled for himself.
The guy had lived so lazily that his body was bloated with fat despite being a martial artist, but his internal energy had been tremendous nonetheless.
'Didn't want to train, had money from ruling Nanju, so he figured he'd just rely on drugs to get by.'
Or perhaps the opposite—he'd gotten even lazier from steadily consuming spirit herbs procured from the black market.
"Envious bastard...."
The image of the Nancheon Association Leader living lazily for ten years came to mind unbidden, sending shivers of envy through Il-mok's body.
But in the end, thanks to that laziness and cruelty, the spirit herb had ended up with Il-mok, which was truly a blessing.
'This is also the grace of the Heavenly Demon.... No, wait. What am I thinking?'
Il-mok, struck by a cultish thought for a moment, hurriedly shook his head.
'That was close.'
Leading conversions to the cult had nearly made him fall for the doctrine without realizing it.
"Huu."
Repeating deep breaths to calm his mind, Il-mok closed his eyes and raised his qi sense.
Centered on the pavilion where he sat in the lotus position, he sensed one protector stationed at each of the four cardinal directions.
They were there to block external approaches, and also as a safeguard in case Il-mok went berserk.
Having grasped the surroundings, Il-mok shoved the millennium snow ginseng into his mouth, chewed it a few times, and swallowed it down.
Thanks to the auspicious qi gathered in the millennium snow ginseng, he could feel its presence sliding down his esophagus toward his stomach.
"Sip. Huu."
Il-mok took deep breaths and circulated the qi from his dantian.
The qi emerging from his dantian guided the pure energy from the snow ginseng, racing through his meridians across his entire body. In the process, the snow ginseng's qi naturally transformed, taking on the hue of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword.
Even as the initially absorbed qi circulated through his meridians, fresh energy continued pouring from the snow ginseng without pause, and the qi in Il-mok's dantian went out again to guide it further.
And once all the snow ginseng's qi had been dyed with demonic qi—
"Sip. Huu."
Il-mok felt a faint tension and focused his mind even more sharply.
'Now comes the real part.'
Absorbing a spirit herb wasn't entirely safe.
Just like doping in the modern world could send you straight to the afterlife or leave you with severe side effects if it went wrong, spirit herbs carried the same risks.
Il-mok began guiding the qi racing through his meridians back toward his dantian.
But even before he'd fully absorbed the circulating qi, his dantian suddenly filled up.
The influx from the snow ginseng had expanded his qi reserves, overwhelming his current dantian capacity.
"Sip. Huu."
Thus, Il-mok carefully divided it strand by strand, packing the meridian qi into his dantian like stuffing luggage into a tiny gap.
Naturally, as his dantian reached its limit, faint pain arose. Yet bit by bit, the dantian's size grew.
People commonly referred to the amount of internal energy stored in the dantian as half a jia, or one jia, and so on.
But this was a misleading expression.
If a warrior who had cultivated half a jia over a dozen years used it all in a life-and-death duel—
Would they need to cultivate their internal energy technique for another lifetime to rebuild that half jia?
Of course not.
Typically, recovering spent internal energy from battle took as little as one shichen, or at most a day.
In other words, the "half jia" or "one jia" people spoke of referred not to the stored internal energy, but to the dantian's size.
The maximum amount of internal energy it could hold.
That said, a larger dantian didn't mean longer recovery times.
A bigger dantian sucked in qi more powerfully when empty, and the meridians tempered during expansion could handle far greater volumes of qi.
And right now, Il-mok was using the spirit herb's energy to expand that dantian.
Sweating cold bullets all the while.
'Damn demonic art.'
It was one of the few drawbacks to this cheat-like demonic art that boasted insane growth speeds.
Unlike the pure and gentle Buddhist or Daoist methods, demonic qi was a temperamental bitch.
It was trouble at the best of times, but during dantian expansion like now, if the demonic qi flared up, it was a straight shot to demonic deviation.
In the early stages of initiation, the demonic qi volume was low and the dantian wasn't expanded much, so it wasn't a big issue.
But once it grew beyond a certain size and the demonic qi accumulated, expanding the dantian became like walking on thin ice.
This was a major reason why progress in demonic arts stalled past a certain realm.
Already tormented by side effects that drove you mad, attempting such dangerous work invited demonic deviation.
'Can't end up like at the Demonic Path Academy.'
If Academy Leader Yeom Ga-hwi hadn't stood guard like a babysitter every time, Il-mok would've long since died to demonic deviation or turned into a lunatic.
Thanks to that experience, Il-mok was quite adept at managing demonic qi while expanding his dantian.
Il-mok guided the qi flowing like a river through his meridians toward his dantian.
It was already full, so he had to expand it bit by bit with care—force too much in at once, and demonic deviation awaited.
Yet the qi heading for the dantian bizarrely didn't enter it, but began wrapping around its exterior.
Adding even a thread of demonic qi to the already packed dantian made it convulse like it was seizing.
In that instant, Il-mok circulated the encircling qi to cushion the shock from the dantian.
It was a technique he'd devised out of frustration near the end of his time at the Demonic Path Academy, when even simple qi circulation and breath adjustment triggered demonic deviation.
Back when he was Seo Ji-hoon, he'd gotten the inspiration from wrapping fragile items in bubble wrap.
How long had he maintained razor-sharp focus, taming the demonic art's side effects that lurked like predators, while circulating his internal energy?
"Huu."
Il-mok, lost in the technique and oblivious to the flow of time, opened his eyes with a deep breath.
A fierce glint flashed in his eyes for a moment, but as the qi settled, it returned to his usual listless gaze.
"About twenty years' worth of cultivation, roughly."
It was the result of absorbing every last drop of the snow ginseng's energy.
In the latter half of his Demonic Path Academy days, devoting himself solely to internal energy techniques and external arts, Il-mok had formed a dantian slightly over one jia by graduation.
And today, cramming in another twenty years' worth had expanded it to one and a half jia.
Considering he'd only started cultivating three short years ago, it was absurd growth.
Even accounting for the demonic art's rapid progress, it would've been impossible without the Explosive Demon Pill and the millennium snow ginseng.
The pill had mostly gone to purging his bone marrow, yielding little absorbed qi, but it had expanded and purified his meridians, massively boosting qi intake during every circulation session. Over the two-plus years since, he'd accumulated more than he'd lost to those purges.
But despite the ridiculous achievement, Il-mok's expression wasn't particularly bright.
"Tch. Shame, but can't be helped."
Sadly, his realm hadn't advanced, nor had enlightenment come.
Still, the increased internal energy did lighten the burden of manifesting sword qi.
As Il-mok confirmed his gains and stepped out of the pavilion, the protectors greeted him.
"Congratulations, Young Master."
"We celebrate your achievement."
Il-mok nodded and asked,
"You've worked hard standing guard. How many shichen did I spend in qi circulation and breath adjustment?"
"About four shichen have passed, Young Master."
At Jin Ha-yeon's reply, Il-mok nearly let out a hollow laugh.
'For a twenty-year-cultivation millennium snow ginseng, that's nothing. If I'd taken public foundation oil or ten-thousand-year snow ginseng, I'd have pulled an all-nighter or croaked from demonic deviation?'
Overkill wasn't a saying for nothing. Especially demonic art cultivators needed to partake of spirit herbs with caution.
"And the Branch Leader sent word. He's compiled a full list of the inns and brothels managed by the Nancheon Association."
"You must be drained from absorbing the spirit herb, Young Master, so leave visiting them to us."
Il-mok's lips nearly curled up at Jin Ha-yeon's and Dam Bin's words.
'Kuh. Came to the Central Plains for this exact reason.'
Subordinates volunteering for work? How splendid.
A shred of conscience made Il-mok utter insincere words.
"You've stood guard so diligently—why not rest a bit before heading out?"
"We took turns resting while guarding, so no need to worry."
At the loyal Dam Bin's response, Il-mok finally broke into a wide grin, unable to hold back.
* * *
Nanju's red-light district carried a somehow chaotic air.
Rumors had spread of the bloody massacre at the massive estate not far from the district.
With the Nancheon Association—the district's overlords—crumbled, disorder was inevitable.
But the finer atmospheres varied subtly by establishment.
Some trembled in fear, watching for cues, while others saw opportunity in the collapse to break free.
In the inner sanctum of one such inn, the [Crimson Pavilion], its proprietor brooded deeply, brow furrowed.
"Now's our chance, Pavilion Master."
The proprietor shook his head at his confidant, the warrior captain in charge of security.
"We don't know the identity or motives of those who attacked the Nancheon Association. Moving rashly is dangerous."
"Grand Azure Pavilion has already started making moves. If we wait, we might end up paying them tribute."
"And if those attackers come for us?"
"It's been half a day already with no sign. Some righteous expert passing by last night must have slain the vile scum in rage and moved on."
"I know what worries you. But the world doesn't always flow so smoothly in our favor."
"I like that caution of yours."
Amid their heated discussion, a woman's voice suddenly interjected, turning the proprietor's and captain's heads.
In the darkened corner.
There emerged a woman in black night garb, her face masked by an enraged Four Heavenly Kings statue.
Ching!
The captain hastily drew his sword, but the proprietor reached out an arm to restrain him.
Staying the captain, the proprietor cupped his fists in salute to the intruder and said,
"This lowly one greets the new sky over Nanju."
"!!!"
As the captain gaped in shock, a smile curved the lips visible through the woman's mask.
It was an enigmatic smile. Even with only eyes and mouth showing, an inexplicable allure emanated from it.
"Caution paired with sharp instincts. Impressive."
Pleased, she spoke thus. Dam Bin issued orders.
"Summon all the women working here at the Crimson Pavilion."
One might expect questions, but the proprietor promptly signaled his captain without hesitation.
Moments later, the captain returned, leading the courtesans working there.
Once enough had gathered, Dam Bin spoke.
"From today, the Crimson Pavilion operates under the protection of our Maitreya Illuminated Cult. You will pay five pun out of every nyang in protection fees."
The captain nearly shouted, 'That's outrageous!' but froze.
'Wait. Five pun? Not five hal?'
Compared to what they'd paid the old Nancheon Association, it was practically free.
But Dam Bin's words weren't over.
"However, from now on, you must pay the courtesans proper wages for their labor. Any who force women into prostitution instead of allowing them to work as entertainers, or block those wishing to quit, will face heavenly punishment."
At her unexpected declaration, the courtesans huddled there, trembling, widened their eyes.
One mustered courage to ask Dam Bin,
"Wh-what about our debts?"
Dam Bin smiled and replied,
"Fear not. The Nancheon Association is gone from this world, and your debts went with their leader to the afterlife."
Her tone carried a subtle pride.
Pride in the man who ordered this— the Eighth Young Master.
'His compassion for the masses truly makes him a model for the faith.'
In truth, Il-mok had initially considered abolishing brothels and freeing all courtesans outright. But hearing the three women in the Association Leader's pavilion had changed his mind somewhat.
He'd learned that in this era's climate, women already sold into prostitution fared poorly if sent back home.
Thus, the compromise: erase their debts and give them choices.
And Il-mok's directives didn't end with the courtesans.
"Moreover, the funds the Crimson Pavilion proprietor used to forcibly buy courtesans for the Nancheon Association will be returned. Harbor no grudges."
The proprietor inwardly sighed in relief as the topic he'd feared raising was broached first.
"We can only express gratitude for the new sky's mercy."
The proprietor saluted again and spoke thus. Dam Bin nodded and continued,
"As I said, this place now operates under Maitreya Illuminated Cult protection, so you must follow the faith's doctrines henceforth. There will be gatherings later—attend without fail."
"We shall obey."
"Additionally, I entrust you with managing the Grand Azure Pavilion as well."
"I humbly report it's an honor, but that pavilion's master won't heed this lowly one."
"No need for concern. Heavenly punishment from Maitreya has already befallen him."
A smile bloomed on the masked woman's lips as she spoke. A smile thick with the scent of blood.
Cold sweat beaded on the proprietor's forehead from that heavy blood reek. He hastily bowed his head.
When he looked up again, the enraged-masked woman was nowhere to be seen.
Yet the lingering aftertaste of that fishy blood scent remained.
'Tonight, another bloodwind will blow through this area.'
The proprietor, often chided for excessive caution, realized that very caution had saved him.