Chapter 9. Eat Some Poison
Won Seung returned to Dok Sabu's side and sat down, asking,
"So everyone else is hiding their true strength too, huh."
"That's right. Everyone has their own life-saving ultimate technique, and they never share it with anyone. Some even kill anyone who sees it."
"Hmm. So if I become an assassin and try to kill someone, I should assume they're hiding their real power."
Dok Sabu nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. He was pleased—when a disciple understood one thing, he grasped two.
"Exactly. Underestimating an enemy is as good as inviting disaster. Even when you're sure you've won, check again. The greater the master, the more they hide."
Suddenly, Dok Sabu thought of the Dok Wang. They were sworn enemies who thought they knew each other's level inside out, but when they clashed, neither could afford to be surprised. Each had used a poison the other never saw coming, leaving them both gravely wounded.
Dok Sabu considered himself the loser because his injuries were far worse, enough to kill him. The Dok Wang had probably recovered by now. The thought made his molars grind.
This kid... could he defeat the Dok Wang in my place?
It would take at least thirty years. Whether the Dok Wang even lived that long was questionable.
Beating his successor would do.
At Won Seung's age, surpassing twenty years of internal energy made it possible. Dok Sabu looked at him with satisfaction and said,
"The effects linger, so spend the next month in deep meditation and cultivation. We'll take the last one after that."
But Won Seung thought differently. The second pill had only given him six or seven years' worth. The third would likely be half that—maybe three years.
Wasting this precious medicine for just that much? No way.
Won Seung spoke up.
"Master. The second pill felt noticeably weaker. The third might do nothing at all. Why don't you take it? Your cough's gotten worse lately."
Dok Sabu stared blankly at his unexpected words, his chest tightening with emotion he couldn't hide.
In his whole life, no young disciple had ever expressed concern for him. He was too strong, too venomous for that. People feared him, they didn't worry.
Silence fell.
As Dokgoe stared intently, Won Seung grew uneasy, wondering if he'd said something wrong. He started to kneel.
"I'm sorry. I just thought..."
"No. I was lost in thought."
Dokgoe waved him off, stopping the kneel. His young disciple's worry had touched him so deeply he couldn't speak for a moment.
Few would refuse such an elixir. He had no regrets giving it away to see his disciple's growth before he died, but it still pained him a little.
This kid's got a good heart, better than I thought.
He knew Won Seung was clever and ambitious—that's why he'd chosen him. But too soft a nature would be a problem. Still, this moment warmed his chest inescapably.
Composing himself, Dok Sabu forced a smile.
"Heh heh, a pill like this is useless to me now. Better to take poison instead."
It was partly true. His internal energy spanned over a hundred years. Past sixty, but forged through countless poisons into a poison body, his power doubled others'. Even the mighty Cheonghyeol Bogyunghwan was like pissing on his foot.
Won Seung was serious.
"Is there no medicine that can heal your body, Master?"
Dok Sabu's condition was miraculously alive at all. A lifetime of poisons had elevated him to poison body realm, but purging the Dok Wang's Shadowless Poison had shattered the balance. Suppress one toxin, another erupted.
Balancing hundreds was impossible. Removing them entirely? His body would be a husk, bedridden forever. A man who'd dominated an era couldn't die like that.
But he didn't want to crush his young disciple's hope.
"Make a poison that can heal me."
He stroked Won Seung's shaggy head.
"I will. Teach me poisons quick!"
Won Seung's eyes sparkled as he replied.
Dok Sabu's selfless gift of the elixir moved Won Seung deeply.
A child hiding his heart for years, sharing with no one—it was brutally hard. At that age, craving reliance was natural, especially in these isolated mountains without trust. Such a figure was precious.
Other kids leaned on each other, but not Won Seung. That loneliness fueled extra rage at Jang Gyo-du and the instructors.
The once-terrifying Dok Sabu now treated him well, melting Won Seung's walls.
He truly wanted to make medicine for him.
When Won Seung went to his sleeping quarters, Dok Sabu tossed all night on his bed, deciding at dawn.
The next day.
Confirming Won Seung had memorized his writings, Dok Sabu took five volumes to the hearth and burned them. Watching a lifetime's work turn to ash felt like burning his own flesh.
The books vanished in flames, leaving his heart light. Now he could die unburdened. He'd realized the writings weighed on him subconsciously.
Everything lived in his young disciple's mind now. He couldn't let him die. No becoming an assassin.
As Won Seung headed to training, Dok Sabu sought Jang Gyo-du.
"I need blank books. Good quality, tough paper—at least five hundred sheets."
Blank books were empty volumes.
Jang Gyo-du's eyes gleamed greedily—obvious to all.
This old freak's finally dying. Time to leave his legacy.
Jang rejoiced inwardly.
"Of course. I'll send for them. What for? Knowing the use helps pick the right ones."
"No need for details. Regular book size."
"Understood. How's the poison kid?"
"Sharp one—good at serving. Thinking of teaching him a few poison tricks."
Jang flinched, surprised.
"Taking him as disciple?"
Dok Sabu snorted.
"Hah! Barely over ten. Teach him poison arts, he'd die in years. Just basic poison handling—enough to keep him safe lifelong. He's served me; that's fair."
Disappointed inside, Jang nodded casually.
"Learning even basic poison arts from you is huge luck. He'll surely become a Ten Perfect Assassin. I look forward to it."
Dok Sabu snorted again.
"Big dreams. If it were that easy, why's there never been one?"
He read Jang's scheme: fearing Dok Sabu would pull Won Seung from training to serve him, Jang preempted by calling him assassin material.
Confirming the intent, Dok Sabu stood.
"Making new poisons lately. Notify before sending anyone—don't blame me if they're poisoned."
"Got it."
Jang bowed obediently, scheming inwardly. Ambitious, his eyes burned with greed.
Dok Sabu inwardly cheered.
Just as I thought.
He'd long known Jang coveted his poison arts. Now the legacy bait was set—wait for the bite.
Days later.
Jang sent blank books to Dok Sabu's dwelling and had a trusted subordinate spy discreetly. The spy reported,
"Nothing unusual. Writes in books one or two hours a day."
Jang's hunch confirmed, he beamed. Dok Sabu was recording his poison arts.
He summoned Won Seung.
"Tiring serving Dok Sabu?"
"No trouble. Just watch the poisons."
"Tell me if you need anything. He's precious—serve well. I'll tell the kitchen: meat every meal."
"Yes. He's even teaching me basic poison arts. Like a master to me."
Won Seung answered as instructed.
No one knew their poison lessons happened at night.
Jang never guessed training-weary Won Seung studied late.
"Learn one trick from him, you'll live easy forever."
"Won't I become a Ten Perfect Assassin?"
"Even better as poison master among them."
"Understood. Won't disappoint."
Won Seung reassured him.
* * *
Won Seung took the third Cheonghyeol Bogyunghwan. It boosted his internal energy by about three years.
Disappointed, Dok Sabu said,
"First and second were strong, so third's weaker. Still, with your training, you've gained twenty-five years total—huge progress. From now, take poisons gradually; power will grow too. Don't be down."
"Pardon? Eat poison? Become a poison body?"
Dok Sabu shook his head.
"Poison body path is grueling, high death risk. Needs at least a dozen years' energy anyway."
Poison bodies faced restrictions, like forgoing marriage. Dok Sabu had sacrificed for his destroyed sect's revival, but not for his young disciple.
Defeat by Dok Wang factored in. Poison body lost to non-poison body. He'd thought poison body made him world's top poisoner—wrong. He'd find another path for his disciple.
"But why eat poison?"