Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 001
Chapter Title: The Supreme Under Heaven's Secret Hobby
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In the far west of the Central Plains martial world, deep within the treacherous eternal snow mountains untouched by human feet.
The people of the world called this place the gateway to hell.
Not even the righteous martial alliance or the evil faction coalition dared set foot here.
It was the forbidden sanctuary, the stronghold of Dark Heaven—the martial force above the demonic cult that struck terror into the hearts of the world.
At the heart of that brutal demonic lair, a man lounged crookedly atop a massive obsidian throne.
Clad in a black robe embroidered with a coiling dragon, he was Dark Heaven's absolute sovereign and the Supreme Under Heaven: Dokgo Cheonwi.
"Yawn..."
A yawn dripping with utter boredom escaped Cheonwi's lips.
At his feet lay the world's legendary treasures, scattered like trash.
The Luminous Pearl, said to be the Dragon King's treasure from the Eastern Sea; the Millennia Cold Iron Sword, which the North Sea Frost Palace Lord had cherished more than his life; the Supreme Antidote Wine offered by the Southern Barbaric Poison King; even assorted magical artifacts from distant Western lands.
These were treasures any martial artist would be lucky to glimpse once in a lifetime, but to Cheonwi, they were less than the pebbles underfoot.
Tap, tap.
With a listless expression, Cheonwi nudged the Luminous Pearl with his foot.
At the sight, the Dark Heaven executives lined up below the throne broke out in cold sweats, slamming their heads to the floor. When the Cult Leader was in a foul mood, someone's head was bound to roll.
"This is boring."
Cheonwi muttered lowly.
"Supreme Under Heaven? It's all hot air. Every last martial artist in the world couldn't take a single punch from me. What the hell am I supposed to do now?"
He was genuinely fed up.
Wake up, train, eat, crush anyone who challenges him, sleep, repeat.
Before he knew it, he'd become the Supreme Under Heaven.
Now, he'd not only mastered Dark Heaven's ultimate art, the Dark Heaven Divine Art, up to the 12th stage—he'd refined it himself all the way to the 15th.
Having nowhere left to climb left a far greater void than he'd imagined.
"C-Cult Leader. If you desire to conquer the Central Plains, we can mobilize right—"
The Senior Elder stammered, trembling, but Cheonwi waved him off in disgust.
"Ugh, shut it. What's the point of land-grabbing? It's just a hassle to manage. Collecting taxes, quelling rebellions, reading memorials... You think that's work for a human being?"
Propping his chin, Cheonwi stared blankly into space. Then his gaze lingered on a map of the Central Plains hanging on the wall—specifically, the golden Imperial Palace at its very center.
Cheonwi's eyes gleamed strangely.
"Right. The Imperial Palace."
The corners of his mouth curled into a sly grin. Mischievous as a brat, yet chillingly seductive.
"Something there might cure my boredom, don't you think? Like... a legendary martial arts manual. Or the founding emperor's secret records. Or maybe the emperor's women."
"B-Big Brother! No, Cult Leader! The Imperial Palace? It's swarming with ten thousand Imperial Guards, plus the Imperial Protectorate..."
"That's what makes it fun."
Cheonwi shot to his feet. His black robe billowed, radiating overwhelming presence.
"Been a while since I played infiltrator. Raiding the palace treasury sounds fun. Might as well sightsee while I'm at it."
And so, the Supreme Under Heaven's escapade began—impulsively, secretly.
Rustle, rustle.
In a secluded rear garden of the Imperial Palace, where autumn leaves tumbled in the breeze.
No trace of Dark Heaven's lavish throne—just a man in tacky gray robes sweeping with a broom.
His hair was bundled under a shabby hood instead of a topknot, and a wooden eunuch's placard dangled from his waist.
Dokgo Cheonwi, now an Imperial Palace's lowly Apprentice Eunuch.
"Sigh..."
Cheonwi gripped the broom tighter and let out a breath.
Memories of his past and present lives flashed through his mind like a montage.
In his previous life, he'd been Kang Jinhyuk—a legendary host who dominated Seoul's Gangnam nightlife, and a genius engineer who'd graduated top of KAIST.
By day, debating quantum mechanics; by night, stacking champagne towers and living it up.
But the heavens were fair: in exchange for his brilliant mind and silver tongue, they'd robbed him of his health. Cause of death? Overwork. Or so the rumors went—some whispered it was a fatal night of excess.
When he opened his eyes, he was Dokgo Cheonwi, heir to Dark Heaven.
He'd panicked at first, but adapted quickly. Thrived, even.
Applying his past life's mechanics and physics to martial arts let him achieve in a year what took others a decade.
F=ma (force equals mass times acceleration).
Grasping that simple law transformed his punches. Optimizing inner energy flow with thermodynamics made qi deviation a fairy tale.
The problem was now.
"Damn it, this body's power control is shot."
Cheonwi grumbled as he swept.
He'd only meant to lightly brush the leaves.
Crackle—!
The leaves touching the broom's tip disintegrated into fine powder.
Even the stone pavement bore deep gouges matching the broom's bristles.
Unconsciously, energy from his dantian had flowed into the broom.
"Past life, all brains and weak body. This time, body's too strong—it's a curse."
Tsking, Cheonwi scuffed dirt over the powdered leaves and gouges with his foot.
Perfect crime.
"Hey! Newbie! Why're you moving like a snail?"
A senior eunuch's shout echoed from afar.
Cheonwi instantly hunched his shoulders, flashing a servile grin.
"Y-Yes! I'll hurry! I'll work harder!"
The Supreme Under Heaven Dokgo Cheonwi groveling? His Dark Heaven subordinates would've frothed at the mouth and fainted.
But Cheonwi relished it.
It was role-playing.
After handling nightmare clients as a host, this was child's play.
He'd chosen "eunuch" for infiltration with cold calculation.
He'd considered Imperial Guards or escorts first, but their discipline was ironclad—round-the-clock surveillance.
A prison for his free spirit.
Faking nobility? Genealogy forgery leading to political quagmires—pass.
Then genius struck: eunuchs.
Shadows everywhere, ignored by all.
From the emperor's bedchambers to consorts' quarters and secret archives.
Nothing barred their access.
Plus, off-duty? Lounge in barracks—no questions. A honey pot (or so he thought).
"Perfect. Best choice of my life."
Cheonwi hummed, grabbing the broom again—this time, fully sealing his inner energy.
But peril wasn't absent.
To become a eunuch required passing the inevitable: the castration check.
Bribes from Dark Heaven's slush fund breezed through paperwork, but the physical exam was unavoidable.
The examination hall buzzed with grim solemnity.
Applicants lined up, dropping trou one by one.
"Hm, clean cut. Pass."
"Not enough. Redo it."
"Tw-Twice? Gaaah!"
Amid brutal banter, Cheonwi's turn neared.
Pretending to gulp, he subtly circulated energy from his dantian.
'Sorry, little brother. Hide-and-seek for now. Big bro'll pamper you with palace tonics later.'
Shrinking Yang Technique, one of Dark Heaven's secret arts.
Originally for storing extreme yang energy to prevent inner power loss, Cheonwi repurposed it wildly.
Contracting masculinity to the extreme, tucking it into the abdominal cavity's empty space between pelvic bones.
Precisely calculated muscle contractions and relaxations via mechanics.
Micro-adjusting bones and organs for space—finely tuned control.
Only KAIST top grad's brain plus Supreme Under Heaven's power could pull it off. A miraculous feat.
"Next. Cheonwi."
The Chief Physician's dry voice called. Cheonwi stepped forward.
Trembling hands feigned fear as he gripped his waistband, squeezing eyes shut and dropping his pants.
"...!"
The Chief Physician rubbed his eyes, peering at Cheonwi's groin.
It was flawlessly smooth, as if born that way.
No scars. Why would there be? Just deeply retracted inside the skin.
The physician's hand probed Cheonwi's inner thigh.
Each cold touch demanded desperate sphincter clenching to hold the technique.
One slip, and the pent-up black dragon might soar free—hair-trigger tension.
"Well, damn."
The Chief Physician whistled in admiration.
"Cut it clean to the root. No scars, silky smooth. Skin like white jade, thighs like stone."
Shaking his head, he looked up at Cheonwi's face.
"You're eunuch material. Prime stock."
Cheonwi mustered his most pitiful, groveling sob, eyes welling.
"Lost it... in a carriage crash as a kid. Sniff... Can't man up anymore, nowhere to go. Wanna bury my bones here."
"Tsk tsk, tough break. Pass. You're in."
"Th-Thank you! Thank you!"
Cheonwi hiked up his pants, bowing frantically.
Inside, he cheered.
'See? Science, baby.'
Thus, after twists and turns, on his first night in the palace.
Cheonwi lay in the cramped newbie eunuch barracks.
The hard wooden pallet reeked of mold, but his mood soared.
Snore, pffft. Snore, hack.
His bunkmate snored obliviously.
Glancing around, Cheonwi slipped a hand under the blanket.
And released the Shrinking Yang Technique held all day.
Boing—!
The blanket tented with a lively bounce.
His mighty manhood restored, pitching fiercely.
Like a beast breaking free after caged all day.
"Phew... Feels alive."
Cheonwi sighed in relief.
The tingling blood flow. A man needs his center firm.
Arm pillowing his head, he gazed at the faint lantern light through the papered window.
That was the inner palace, where consorts resided.
Lamps burned through the night. Beauties awaited the emperor's touch.
A roguish smile played on Cheonwi's lips.
"Alright, snag some manuals... Flower-viewing if bored? This palace night's mine now."
Emperor's swamped with affairs, skimps on nights, they say.
Shouldn't he balance the palace's yin energy as public service?
Getting caught? Dismemberment. But for the Supreme Under Heaven, that thrill was the spice.
Cheonwi rose, cracking the window.
Cool night air brushed his cheek.
Yonder, amid garish rear palaces, one dilapidated hall stood deserted and lonely.
The Cold Palace.
Where fallen consorts and forgotten royals were exiled.
But Cheonwi's hyper senses detected an odd aura there.
Not mere ruins. Something secretive, sweetly tantalizing, stirring curiosity.
That night, Cheonwi's gaze fixed not on manuals, but the moonlit Cold Palace walls.