Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 81
>Chapter Title: Scoundrel (3)
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After feeding him all the rice balls and even pouring water down his gullet to help with digestion.
“Hoo.”
Il-mok washed his hands with the remaining water, then finally released the pressure points he had sealed.
Baek Cheon, who had been force-fed by Il-mok, wore a strange expression instead of throwing a fit.
His body, which had been wailing that it felt like death, had eased up a bit now that some food was in it.
He had wondered why he should bother going on living, but with a bit of sugar in his system, his mind had settled somewhat.
And feeling that comfort, Baek Cheon found himself absurd and pathetic.
As Baek Cheon grappled with his complicated emotions, Il-mok finished washing his hands and spoke up.
“So, you think it’s better to die over one little mistake?”
“Yeah.”
Il-mok swallowed a sigh inwardly at Baek Cheon’s somewhat subdued reply now that he had eaten.
“Doesn’t make sense to me.”
“You hotshot wouldn’t get it. You’ve been chosen by the Heavenly Demon and only known success.”
“Cut the bullshit. I only became Master’s disciple a year ago.”
“That’s exactly my point. I’ve heard about your accomplishments in that one year. You’ve done what others couldn’t in ten, so of course you wouldn’t know failure.”
“Sigh. No idea where you picked up that crap, but looks like you didn’t hear what I was up to before becoming Master’s disciple.”
“???”
Baek Cheon looked puzzled. He truly hadn’t heard anything about Il-mok’s life before becoming the Heavenly Demon’s disciple.
“I lost all my relatives at thirteen and became an orphan drifter. The innkeeper took pity on me, so I scraped by as a busboy for two years.”
“!?”
“And then Master suddenly showed up at the inn, the Martial Alliance raided us, and that innkeeper died too. If Master hadn’t taken me in, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”
Of course, it was less “taken in” and more “passed the test”—with a sword to his throat.
But spelling that out would trash-talk the Heavenly Demon, so Il-mok glossed over it vaguely.
He had no desire to chant scriptures and bow three times a day alongside this guy.
“By your logic, I was a failed life from the start, so I should’ve just croaked at thirteen. Right?”
Baek Cheon was momentarily speechless.
He’d pegged him as an annoyingly talented prick, never imagining such a tragic backstory.
“In that light, aren’t you the lucky one? Unlike me, an orphan busboy, you were born into one of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s five great families.”
In truth, Il-mok had no complaints about being a busboy.
As long as he could earn enough to eat, his dream was to slack off rather than climb high and burn out.
He’d just framed it as pitiful to suit the other guy’s perspective.
“That’s why I can’t wrap my head around it. Born into one of the five great families, you could’ve lived easy just coasting—why talk suicide over one failure?”
Il-mok asked with genuine sincerity.
If he’d been from a prestigious house, he really would’ve trained just enough and lived leisurely. That alone would’ve let him coast in luxury.
Baek Cheon fell silent, pondering for a moment before sighing and speaking.
“…You must’ve heard my nickname before entering the Demonic Path Academy was ‘Dog Scoundrel.’”
“…Heard it right before the sparring match.”
As the other switched to polite speech, Il-mok matched it casually. No clue why it jumped to scoundrel talk, though.
“See, from a young age, I hated losing anything to anyone more than death itself. Probably because of my brother. Just a few years older, and I was always compared to him—everything good went to him first.”
“Hmm…”
Il-mok nodded with an intrigued hum.
He didn’t know about modern times, but it was common in this era. Even back as Seo Ji-hoon, he’d seen or heard it plenty as a kid. Families always favored the eldest son first.
“So as a kid, I threw tantrums and acted out. Demanding attention for me too. Give me what you gave brother.”
“I see.”
“That habit lingered early in the Academy, but as I matured, my thinking shifted. I realized that got short-term gains but long-term losses.”
“So you figured scoring top marks at the Academy would earn your family’s recognition?”
“That’s right.”
“I see…”
Il-mok nodded as if understanding, then shared his take.
“Your vision’s smaller than a soy sauce jar.”
“!?”
Baek Cheon’s eyes bulged in disbelief.
Ignoring that, Il-mok pressed on.
“Confucius, that ancient sage at odds with our Cult, said he devoted himself to learning at fifteen. And here you are at seventeen, still only thinking about impressing your family elders—how petty is that?”
Il-mok had never planned to coddle or console Baek Cheon. He aimed to fix his mindset.
Blind pity just spoiled a kid rotten. Sometimes, even if pitiful, you had to scold them.
Besides, why pamper someone else’s brat?
‘No clue why I’m even bothering to discipline this non-kid of mine.’
As Il-mok grumbled inwardly, Baek Cheon pushed back.
“You call earning recognition from my Baek family—the current Demonic Path Academy overlords—‘just that’?”
“I know your house is big, but it’s still one family. On the scale of the world, nothing special. Hell, even within the Cult, there are four more like it, plus my esteemed Master above them all.”
“…….”
Baek Cheon faltered, unable to retort, his face clouding over again.
“Which is exactly why you should die. If you can’t even manage that little, no dreaming bigger.”
“Enough with the dumb talk. Think of Emperor Gaozu of Han. He lost almost every battle to the Chu Hegemon until the final Hai Ba fight, but who unified the realm? Gaozu. When chasing great deeds, failure’s routine. That’s how tough it is. So the key is an unyielding heart, no?”
“!!!”
Baek Cheon’s face lit up as if struck by enlightenment.
Seemed like real talk might finally click, so Il-mok dropped the shock tactics for earnest advice.
“First, before setting grand ambitions, reflect on yourself.”
“On myself?”
“Exactly. To hold grand ambitions, you must truly know what you want—what you love most.”
Il-mok too had reflected, set grand ambitions, and kept an unyielding heart.
Grand ambitions to slack off and live easy.
Tormented by Master and Jin Ha-yeon, but his heart hadn’t broken yet.
Il-mok continued his sincere advice.
“Hell, would you die just because your family elders say so? No. So think who you are—not the Baek Cheon others see, but the one you see.”
No matter what others said, his love for slacking stayed firm. That was his core.
“You’ve got nothing but time for three bows and one prostration anyway, right?”
Even after Il-mok finished, Baek Cheon stayed quiet for a while.
Not ignoring him—just dazedly sorting through the words in his head.
Once sorted, his eyes clearer, Baek Cheon spoke cautiously.
“I get your words, Young Master. But can I really rebound? After blaspheming the Heavenly Demon, can I pursue my ambitions?”
“Tch. Still not getting it. If your ambitions are firm, others’ stares don’t matter. And I—the one you insulted—forgave you, so who cares about the rest?”
“!!!”
For a moment, Baek Cheon’s face filled with感動 at the word “forgave.”
Then, curiosity piqued, he asked with eager anticipation.
“Then, what’s the grand ambition you hold, Young Master?”
Il-mok thought. Spouting “rich NEET” here would trash all his prior preaching.
Brainstorming fast, a solid answer hit.
“Avenge the innkeeper who took me in and raised me for two years. Master said it was led by the Flying Dragon Pavilion Lord.”
“Huh…”
Baek Cheon stared at Il-mok in shock again.
As a Baek family direct descendant, he knew: the Flying Dragon Pavilion Lord was a top Martial Alliance figure.
To kill that lord with his own hands.
“No wonder you reached such heights in just a year! The brutal training for revenge—unimaginable.”
Il-mok gave an awkward smile at the praise.
‘Uh, I just trained to survive?’
It was that kind maidservant threatening to lop his head off if he failed entry.
Plus his kind Master, mistaking him for some prodigy and forcing “real combat spars” that nearly killed him.
But seeing the awkward smile as humility, Baek Cheon declared firmly.
“I haven’t set my grand ambition yet, but I promise this: whatever it becomes, I’ll stake my life to aid your revenge.”
“Ahem. Thanks for saying so.”
“Not just words—dead serious!”
The guy suddenly flipping to bright eyes and earnest shouts gave Il-mok chills.
“Ahem. A-alright, head back and rest for today. Reflect well while taking your punishment.”
“I shall.”
“Eat properly too. A broken body breaks the mind.”
With that, Il-mok bolted using lightness skill.
“…….”
Baek Cheon stared at Il-mok’s direction with clear eyes for a while.
“I won’t forget this grace.”
He abruptly clasped hands in a fist salute to empty air, then returned to Black Tiger Hall.
* * *
Next morning, early.
As usual, Baek Cheon rose and headed to the mess hall, but unlike before, he piled his rice high and shoveled it in greedily.
To build stamina to endure his punishment.
Spectators whispered behind him at the gorging, but Baek Cheon ignored them.
‘Others’ stares don’t matter.’
He recalled the youngest Young Master’s words from last night.
‘What do I truly want?’
Amid repeating three bows and one prostration on the training ground, that question swirled in his mind.
One could say he’d succeeded in turning over a new leaf, as Il-mok intended.
‘Yeah. What I really loved wasn’t recognition from others.’
Il-mok had overlooked one thing.
‘Nor did I want to shove brother aside and become family head.’
This was the Demonic Path Academy, nurturing Heavenly Demon Divine Cult talents—all practicing demonic arts.
And the side effect of the Hundred Flowers Demonic Art, cultivated by Baek family direct descendant Baek Cheon, was…
‘Attention! I just loved getting people’s attention!’
Attention addiction.
‘Even envying brother as a kid—it was his attention I craved!’
The Hundred Flowers Demonic Art truly bloomed a hundred flowers using diverse tools. Thus, specialized in hidden weapons.
The Central Plains had the Sacheon Tang family, famed for hidden weapons too. But unlike their poison fame, the Baek family shunned poison entirely.
Simple reason.
Poison wasn’t flashy.
Why they were called the True Hundred Baek family: from the founding patriarch’s creed.
Flowers shine brightest blooming. So hiding diverse hidden weapons and blooming them at once—that was true art, they believed.
‘Yeah. Attention! Attention is my life’s purpose and true value!’
As Baek Cheon’s self-reflection reached that point.
The pitiful stares and trash talk from all over the training ground now felt entirely different.
‘Heh heh heh. Yeah. Look at me.’
Before, only positive attention thrilled him—but now, all attention did.
‘Those trash-bin stares? I’ll flip them for sure. Heh heh heh.’
Just imagining those negative gazes turning gave Baek Cheon tingles down his spine.
‘Right. Young Master told me to hold grand ambitions, so from now, my goal is one: become the world’s most famous man. The one everyone’s eyes are on!’
He didn’t know how yet, but as Young Master said, he had time to ponder.
Methods would come later.
“Heh heh heh heh.”
Thus, the Baek family’s dog scoundrel evolved into the ultimate attention fiend.