Chapter 27
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Shut Up, You Bastard (3)
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Fog blanketed the early dawn.
“Are you really sure it’s okay?”
“He says he’s fine himself.”
“No, still…”
The Shaolin Temple, which should have exuded a serene detachment from the secular world, was unusually bustling today.
The reason Shaolin—where only the whisper of a single falling leaf brushing the wind should have been heard—was so lively was none other than Kang Moo-jin.
The temple leaders had all gathered at dawn because Kang Moo-jin was entering the Repentance Cave.
“Hero Kang. Are you truly alright?”
Arhat Hall Leader Hye-ryo examined Moo-jin with his characteristically gentle expression.
But for some reason, the gesture didn’t feel entirely sincere.
“I’m fine. Perfectly healthy.”
If he considered only his physical condition, he could have entered right after sparring with the Eighteen Arhats yesterday without issue.
The reason he’d delayed by a day was out of respect for Shaolin. And to calm his mind before stepping into the formation.
‘I can’t let my emotions get the better of me.’
No matter how renowned a warrior was for their composure, the word “family” had a way of shattering that calm.
Moo-jin worried that his own mistake might lead to failing to save his brother.
“Very well. That’s a relief, then. Just enter through this gate. The moment you step inside, the formation will activate, and the outer scenery will shift dramatically.”
Arhat Hall Leader Hye-ryo pointed to what appeared to be an ordinary Shaolin hall.
A commonplace structure with red tiles and golden lacquer accents.
But within that hall, heaven and earth spiritual energy twisted and tangled in a chaotic flow.
Proof that the formation had gone berserk.
“Then I’ll be off.”
As Kang Moo-jin nodded calmly and moved to step into the formation—
Thud.
Arhat Hall Leader Hye-ryo placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Do be careful. Inside, it’s not just Shaolin monks who sinned—there are also demonic cultivators captured from outside.”
Hye-ryo’s eyes curved like upturned crescent moons, forming a smile.
A smile that seemed benevolent on the surface but hid something beneath.
“You might even die. Honestly speaking, it feels like you will. Are you really sure?”
“You worry too much.”
Smoothly—
Moo-jin brushed Hye-ryo’s hand off his shoulder as he spoke.
“Whatever it is, I’ll just smash it all to pieces.”
Thud.
The moment Moo-jin took a step, the world warped.
He had merely passed through the Repentance Cave’s gate, but the scenery before him was already unlike that of the living realm.
Everything distorted around him; the distinction between up and down vanished.
A river flowed overhead. A pagoda floated tilted in midair. And a crimson sky was embedded in the ground.
All was twisted, yet strangely interconnected. As if… the space itself were alive.
‘It’s been a while. Nice to see you again.’
A sight sufficient to instill terror in first-timers, but Kang Moo-jin’s expression remained unchanged.
Back in the Linked Qi Realm, he had experienced similar spaces.
Thud.
With one step, a distant hall lurched abruptly into view.
And with it came a low chant of sutras.
The sound, as if hundreds of monks intoned in unison, was an illusory echo conjured by the formation.
‘No way back now.’
Moo-jin glanced behind. In place of the path he had walked stood hundreds of inverted Buddha statues glaring down from the air.
“Hmph.”
Undaunted by the eerie spectacle, Kang Moo-jin strode forward.
“Well. I wasn’t planning to turn back anyway.”
He advanced, casually smacking the cheeks of the occasional protruding statue.
‘Ah, hold on. No demonic beasts or anything like that here?’
In the Linked Qi Realm, formations like this often spawned demonic beasts twisted by demonic qi.
‘Those would actually be easier.’
To most, such mindless beasts symbolized dread, but Moo-jin welcomed them.
Why?
‘Because they’re not human—they’re easier to smash.’
As he walked with that thought—
“Kyaaak!”
Something burst from between the blackened Buddha statues, lunging at Moo-jin.
“Blood… Give me blood!”
Its eye sockets and mouth rimmed pitch-black—it was a demonic cultivator who had lost his reason to demonic qi.
“Hm. Looks like the prisoners have been set loose.”
Moo-jin stroked his chin with a troubled look.
Kill them…?
He hesitated briefly, but not for long.
They were prisoners confined by Shaolin, after all. Smashing their skulls felt distasteful.
“Hey. What should I do with you?”
Moo-jin’s gaze fell to his forearm, thicker than a decent club.
“Bloo… oood…”
The demonic cultivator dangled from Moo-jin’s forearm, clamping down with all his jaw strength, gnawing away.
Or rather, trying to.
“Whyyy… won’t… it tear…”
But Moo-jin’s flesh, tougher than steel, wouldn’t yield to mere human teeth.
“Let’s knock you out first. What a pain.”
Frowning at the beast who’d soaked his Shaolin robes in saliva, Moo-jin clenched his fist.
Bam—!
The demonic cultivator took a punch to the crown of his head, eyes rolling back as he passed out.
A foe that even decent Shaolin warrior monks struggled against was mere appetizing snack to Moo-jin.
“Tch. Doesn’t know the value of clothes, this punk.”
Moo-jin wiped the blood from his orange robe.
If it weren’t for not wearing his black bloodwind robes, that would’ve been it.
Had the beast dirtied his bloodwind robes…
‘I’d rip out every tooth.’
He’d have ended up alive but wishing otherwise.
“Hm. Now what to do with this guy.”
Moo-jin scratched his chin, brow furrowed in thought.
‘Leave him here?’
He shook his head.
Criminals locked in Repentance Cave or not, they were still human.
Abandoning him here meant certain death, and that felt wrong.
“Hmm… What now.”
A spark of inspiration struck Moo-jin’s mind.
…! That’s it!
It was around the time Moo-jin was seven.
The Diamond Escort Agency was struggling then, short on funds, surviving on plain rice without side dishes every meal.
But one couldn’t endure rice alone forever.
So his father bought a dried yellow croaker, tied it with string, and hung it from the ceiling.
With each spoonful of rice, they’d glance at the fish, imagining they were eating it.
‘This guy’s the croaker.’
To Kang Moo-jin, this withered demonic cultivator looked just like one.
In other words, tie this croaker—no, demonic cultivator—with rope and drag him along.
Rip—tear—
Think deeply, act swiftly, as they say.
Moo-jin tore the beast’s clothes into rope, bound him, and ventured deeper into the formation.
And so half a day passed.
“Hm. A bit much?”
Moo-jin scratched his chin, eyeing the rope now strung with them like a serpent deity.
In half a day, he’d knocked out eight such “croakers.”
Two weren’t even external prisoners—they were Shaolin monks.
“No, it’s not my fault. Blame Shaolin for cramming so many demonic cultivators in here.”
“Ugh…”
“Where the hell did they catch this many?”
Dragging his train of croakers—no, demonic cultivators—Moo-jin halted and sighed deeply.
“Damn it.”
Time was dragging more than expected.
He’d thought half a day enough to find his brother, but the formation’s vast, labyrinthine sprawl had delayed him.
‘Should I just smash it all?’
Hesitation flickered in Moo-jin’s eyes.
Back in the Linked Qi Realm, he’d bulldoze through formations with brute force.
He was weaker now, but with some strain, he could manage.
But.
‘No. Brother might get hurt.’
Moo-jin would survive anything, but his brother was different.
The backlash from shattering the formation could injure or kill him.
“Fuck. No choice, then.”
Shaking off the thought, Moo-jin pressed on.
And at that moment, the space began to quake.
Rumble—
“…!?”
As the formation’s space distorted, Kang Moo-jin’s feral senses instinctively caught something.
Amid the shuddering winds and twisted air flows, he detected a faint trace of vital energy.
‘Over there.’
Eyes blazing, Moo-jin launched himself toward the source.
In this place choked with demonic qi-ridden cultivators, only his brother Kang Moo-woong could emit such energy.
Whoosh—!
Slipping through a rift in the warped space, immense pressure crushed down on Moo-jin’s body.
As if invisible hands squeezed from all sides.
“Tch. Annoying.”
Moo-jin reversed the flow of his Immortal Diamond Qi Art protecting his body, expelling it outward.
Boom—!
The endlessly compressing space couldn’t withstand his power and rebounded.
Thud.
Moo-jin landed lightly, pushing off the ground, arriving at the energy’s origin.
“What’s this?”
An old monk sat in meditation at the center of a ritual circle.
Beside him, sweating and twitching at the eyes, sat another elder shrouded in ominous black energy.
“…Brother!”
Spotting Kang Moo-woong collapsed near the circle’s edge, Moo-jin rushed to him.
Grab.
Urgently lifting his brother’s wrist, Moo-jin pressed two fingers to it and checked his pulse.
Whatever had happened, assessing his condition came first.
‘He’s alive. Thank goodness.’
Moo-woong’s state was poor, but he still breathed.
Sighing in relief, Moo-jin gathered his inner energy and unleashed the Water Spirit Arts he’d learned in the Linked Qi Realm.
The arts that had once detoxified his father worked on recovery even without poison.
‘I can save him.’
As Moo-jin’s lips curved at the thought—
-Come to me.
A damp, clinging voice slithered from behind, burrowing into the ear.
-Come to me… Come to me.
-Do you crave power…? I shall grant it.
The drawn-out tone was repulsive and eerie, like venomous insects crawling over skin.
“What the hell is this dogshit?”
Moo-jin scowled fiercely, mid-arts.
Those unascended in martial profundity might miss it, but he sensed an unnatural chill laced in the voice.
-To me… Come. To me… To me, come.
“Ah… fuck.”
Kang Moo-jin’s face twisted in savage fury at the persistent nagging.
“Shut up, you bastard!”
Thwack—!
Moo-jin drove his fist into the chattering old monk’s jaw.
“Gahk! It, it wasn’t me!”
The elder’s aggrieved gaze turned to Moo-jin.
Upon closer look, the one spewing curses was the black-energy elder beside him.
“Ah, sorry.”
Moo-jin scratched the back of his head sheepishly.