Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 80
>Chapter Title: Spoiled Brat (2)
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Il-mok quickly finished his meal and left the cafeteria as is. He had a feeling that if he stayed here too long, more crazy people would come swarming.
The path led straight to that same secluded clearing, without fail.
“Hoo. Hoo.”
As Il-mok crossed the large training ground, a rough breathing sound reached his ears.
The sky at the mountainside, where the sun was beginning to set.
Under the crimson sky, a man was walking across the training ground.
Thud.
He collapsed to the ground as if sitting down heavily, performed a full prostration, then rose again.
He took a few more steps, then collapsed once more to prostrate himself, repeating the cycle.
Il-mok knew who that man was.
And it was all because of him that the man was enduring this punishment.
He was Baekcheon.
He had committed the grave sin of daring to call the Heavenly Demon of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult a “dog.” This was his atonement, in the form of three steps and one bow.
In fact, the first thing Il-mok had thought of was that punishment he’d often seen in the South Korean military.
The infamous full gear lap around the parade ground.
But there was nothing here that could be called full gear, and since these people were cultist zealots, they needed a punishment fitting their fanaticism.
That was the only way to convince the Demonic Path Academy Lord.
After much deliberation, Il-mok had come up with circling the training ground with three steps and one bow.
On top of that, every time he prostrated, he had to recite a passage from the doctrinal scriptures.
To etch the scriptures and faith deep into his mind.
So that even in the most physically grueling state, faith would come first.
So he would never again make the mistake of insulting the Heavenly Demon, even by accident.
With that justification, Il-mok had successfully persuaded the Demonic Path Academy Lord.
And so, Baekcheon kept circling the training ground right now.
With his internal energy sealed, relying solely on physical strength to repeat the three steps and one bow, muttering the next passage from the scriptures with every prostration.
But Il-mok didn’t think it was because of him.
If anything, it was thanks to him.
At least it was better than having his limbs severed and fed to wild beasts, or having his tongue cut out.
‘Though I doubt that fool sees it that way.’
Il-mok watched Baekcheon for a moment, then lost interest and kept walking.
* * *
A short while after Il-mok left.
A woman dressed in light, flowing clothes—utterly out of place in the Demonic Path Academy, a training facility for martial arts, slaughter, and special missions—was heading toward the cafeteria.
The red sunset illuminated her face and clothes, giving off a mystical aura.
No, she believed she exuded a mystical aura and was reveling in it, fanning herself gracefully.
Arriving at the cafeteria with haughty steps, the woman froze solid.
‘…He’s not here?’
Il-mok, who was supposed to be waiting for her, wasn’t there.
She had gone out of her way to bring just one item to the academy upon entry: her sure-kill outfit.
Bang Mi-hwa, who had returned after a thorough bath and purification, froze from the sudden cognitive dissonance.
“Hut.”
But she quickly regained her composure and let out a haughty laugh.
“He must have been too embarrassed, it seems.”
As a master of mental victories with a narcissistic personality disorder, she swiftly reframed the situation to suit herself.
She had a rough idea of where Il-mok might be.
Probably hiding in that clearing.
But instead of heading there, Bang Mi-hwa turned with haughty steps toward the Black Dragon Hall.
“Hee-hee. Young Master, opportunities don’t come knocking every day. If you come begging with tears later, I might forgive you once.”
She decided this was Il-mok chasing her away.
* * *
The next day. Early morning.
Baekcheon dragged his sunken-eyed body toward the cafeteria.
“Tsk.”
One of his classmates, spotting him, clicked their tongue.
Baekcheon clenched his fist without thinking, but he didn’t charge at the one who’d made the sound.
Ignoring it as best he could, he walked on, only to hear his classmates’ conversation from behind.
“And he’s still walking around fine after saying something like that.”
“Must not feel any shame.”
“No wonder it happened. He’s always been so reckless. I knew he’d cause trouble someday.”
“It’s not recklessness. He must’ve harbored those thoughts all along to say something like that.”
Their voices rose deliberately for him to hear. Baekcheon ground his teeth, a faint grinding sound escaping his mouth.
Rage boiled to the top of his head, but he couldn’t lash out at them.
It wasn’t because his internal energy was sealed.
He too was a follower of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, direct lineage of one of the five great demonic families.
He had heard the cult’s doctrines drilled into him since childhood, and his faith was genuine, at least in that regard.
He knew full well he had committed an unforgivable treason.
To be precise, he held back because lunging at them here would be tantamount to denying his own sin. He endured their scornful words for that reason.
Suppressing his humiliation as best he could, Baekcheon finished his breakfast and headed alone to the training ground.
And just like yesterday, he resumed the three steps and one bow.
He had to recite the next passage from the scriptures with every prostration, but it wasn’t particularly difficult.
He had heard and read the scriptures so many times since childhood that they were engraved in his brain.
Whether they resonated with his heart or not, they were etched into his mind.
He walked endlessly and prostrated himself repeatedly.
Soon, class time arrived, and he saw classmates and juniors passing by.
Every time their gazes turned to him undergoing punishment, shame surged from the depths of his organs, even without their words.
He walked and prostrated himself endlessly, a spectacle for them.
Lunchtime passed, afternoon classes continued, evening came and went, and even self-study time arrived.
He walked and prostrated without end, forced to be a sideshow for all who passed.
His stomach, empty since breakfast, had screamed itself hoarse until it went numb.
In contrast, his muscles and joints, deprived of energy, shrieked in agony, and his head grew foggy.
And about an hour after full darkness fell.
“Head in for the day.”
Instructor Cha Eun-young, the duty officer, appeared and ordered him to rest.
She didn’t hide her utterly pathetic expression at all. Just days ago, that gaze had been one of pride; now it was contempt.
Ashamed of her look, Baekcheon barely managed to drag his trembling body back to the Black Dragon Hall.
It was a relief. His classmates had all returned to their rooms already.
Time passed.
The same routine repeated for days.
How long had it been since breakfast, just endlessly walking and prostrating?
As emotions of humiliation and anger faded, a new feeling emerged.
‘Why do I have to go through this?’
It wasn’t rebellion.
‘Isn’t it all over anyway?’
Graduating top of the Demonic Path Academy, then building status within the family afterward.
With all those goals in ruins now, what reason was there to endure this punishment?
“Head back for today.”
On the way back to the Black Dragon Hall after today’s inevitable pathetic glance from Instructor Cha Eun-young.
‘Yeah. Let’s end it all.’
As Baekcheon thought this, deeming all his actions meaningless, someone blocked his path.
“Take this and go.”
The man responsible for it all.
* * *
After finishing dinner in the cafeteria and handing the pre-packed rice ball to Baekcheon, Il-mok thought to himself.
‘Tch. No matter how you look at it, he keeps catching my eye, so it’s annoying.’
Truth be told, there was no need to care just because he kept seeing him.
The problem was Baekcheon’s condition, growing thinner by the day. His eyes had turned into the dull gaze of rotten fish.
‘No matter what, starving him to one meal a day is a bit much, right?’
Il-mok had proposed the three steps and one bow punishment himself, but he hadn’t expected them to run him into the ground this brutally.
Baekcheon stared blankly at the rice ball Il-mok offered for a moment. Then, laboriously lifting his head, his gaze met Il-mok’s face.
Soon after, life returned to his soulless eyes.
The spark of rage.
“Because of you…”
Perhaps from surviving the day on just breakfast, walking and prostrating nonstop, he lacked even the strength to shout. Baekcheon rasped in a throat-rattling metallic voice.
At Baekcheon’s malice, Il-mok let out a hollow laugh.
“This happened because of your shitty personality. Why’s it my fault?”
He felt a sliver of pity because the punishment seemed excessive for the crime, but he had no intention of accepting the man’s outright hostility.
At Il-mok’s retort, Baekcheon, who had been glaring, laughed self-mockingly.
“Yeah. It’s all my fault. So I’ll end it myself. Instead of this humiliating punishment.”
“End it yourself? What’re you talking about?”
Il-mok furrowed his brow and asked warily, half-expecting the worst.
“I’ll die on my own, so leave me be.”
And when Baekcheon spat out exactly what Il-mok had feared, Il-mok cursed outright.
“Are you an idiot? I went out of my way to save you, and now you’re throwing another fit? I can’t understand it.”
Baekcheon’s expression turned strange.
“Went out of your way to save me? What do you mean?”
“You were originally slated for limb amputation and being beast food.”
“No way… You spoke to the Academy Lord and changed the punishment?”
Il-mok nodded, and Baekcheon’s face crumpled.
“Why didn’t you just let me die! I’m done for anyway. That mistake put me out of the Academy Lord’s favor—I can’t climb higher, and my status in the family will hit rock bottom! What do I even have left to live for!”
Listening to Baekcheon’s desperate cry, Il-mok thought.
‘Ha. What is this, like a damn kid.’
It felt familiar somehow.
Like what?
Like watching a high schooler who thinks college entrance is their whole life, attempting suicide in despair after bombing an exam.
‘Ah, he’s seventeen in Korean age.’
Come to think of it, Baekcheon was seventeen. In modern terms, barely a high school sophomore or junior.
‘Damn. Makes him look even more pitiful.’
Remembering the news stories that popped up every year right after college entrance exams, Il-mok sighed involuntarily. Those kids always tugged at his heartstrings.
‘They say you can’t fix people… But he’s still young, so maybe there’s a chance.’
People don’t change easily.
Il-mok had felt that countless times in life, an old adage. But the key part of that adage wasn’t “don’t change.”
It was “easily.”
Every now and then, one or two out of ten would hit a major life turning point and truly change.
He’d already hit a massive turning point with his screw-up, so wasn’t there at least a sliver of possibility?
Having sorted his thoughts, Il-mok sighed and said.
“First, eat. Then we talk.”
Paht!
The moment he finished speaking, he struck preemptively, sealing Baekcheon’s pressure points.
“Eup!?”
Il-mok approached Baekcheon, now immobile with his movement and speech points sealed. He gripped the man’s jaw with one hand, pried it open, and shoved the rice ball in with the other.
Il-mok’s own version of maximum kindness.
And for good reason.
‘Argh.’
As he stuffed the rice ball in and manipulated Baekcheon’s jaw up and down to chew and digest it, Il-mok’s hand got slimed with the man’s saliva.
On top of that, supporting Baekcheon’s sweat-soaked body from a day of three steps and one bow filled his nose with stench.
For Il-mok, who had hygiene OCD, this was grace bestowed at the risk of demonic deviation.
“Eup!?”
Of course, for Baekcheon, with the rice ball forcibly crammed into his mouth, it was anything but.