You Won't Escape So Easily
Daesan. The entire mountain—known among the Demonic Cultists as the Hundred-Thousand Daesan—was the domain of the Demonic Cult. Deepest within it lay Geuncheonjeong, a sanctum none could enter without Sa Unsik’s leave.
There Yeo Chang-dong prostrated himself before the empty throne in a state of immaculate polish no one who had seen him farm could have imagined. The rough beard was neatly trimmed, his hair combed smoothly back, and he wore splendid robes.
How long he remained like that, head bowed and utterly still as if dead, was hard to say. Then a breeze stirred, and in the next breath Sa Unsik was seated upon the throne.
“This humble one pays respects to the Cult Leader.”
“Rise.”
At Sa Unsik’s word, Yeo Chang-dong slowly straightened—though he kept one knee upon the floor. Sa Unsik spoke first to the kneeling man.
“Has it been two years?”
“Yes. Two years, my lord. I have been so devoted to the task you entrusted me that I failed to present myself. Forgive me.”
“Huhu. By task, you mean the farming, I take it. Even for you that would not have been easy. Have you come to abandon the mission?”
“Not so, my lord. There has been progress.”
At the Cult Leader’s tone—which suggested he expected nothing of the sort—Yeo Chang-dong bowed his head again. In that instant Sa Unsik’s expression changed, and a piercing aura swept the chamber.
“Progress, you say? You would not be lying to me?”
It felt like a north wind howling through. An ordinary man would have trembled from head to foot, but Yeo Chang-dong was not one to be cowed by pressure of this degree. He lowered his head once more and answered evenly.
“How could I ever deceive the Cult Leader? This humble one does not tell lies that will be seen through at a glance.”
And Sa Unsik, for his part, knew Yeo Chang-dong better than anyone. It was Sa Unsik himself who had brought the boy into the Demonic Cult after recognizing his bone structure and talent in early childhood. He had personally transmitted the Mahon Cheongong to him alongside his own children, and for a time Yeo Chang-dong had even been considered a candidate for Sa Yeo-un’s husband. There was no way Sa Unsik would fail to trust such a man.
“Very well. Speak.”
“Before that… there is an offering I wish to present to the Cult Leader.”
Yeo Chang-dong rose and drew out a bottle of Doyakju wrapped in silk. The vessel Yoo Eunhyeon had handed over had been nothing more than a rough, ordinary flask, yet bound in silk it looked like some rare and precious liquor.
When Yeo Chang-dong raised the Doyakju in both hands, Sa Unsik opened his palm. An invisible, formless force enfolded the bottle, lifting it into the air and drawing it into his grasp.
“Oh-ho?”
Sa Unsik took the Doyakju, opened the stopper, and a rich fragrance bloomed through the hall. Knowing exactly what the liquor was, he smiled faintly, took a single swallow, and wore an expression of deep satisfaction.
“The taste is unchanged. How did you come by this?”
“I shall report every particular, my lord.”
Yeo Chang-dong was startled to see the Cult Leader’s face ease so markedly from its earlier severity, yet he gave no sign of it. He related the recent events in a calm, measured voice, withholding nothing of what had passed with Sa Yeo-un either. When the account was finished, he bowed his head again as though to say the report was complete.
“Indeed. So the Young Brother came in person. To think he would dare slip into our Cult itself—he has grown rather bold. Huhuhuhu.”
Sa Unsik rested his chin on the arm of the throne and laughed softly. A moment later his voice reached Yeo Chang-dong’s ear once more.
“Chang-dong. Sit properly.”
“Yes, my lord.”
At the command, Yeo Chang-dong rose from his prostration, settled into a correct posture, and looked up at Sa Unsik. The report was done; an order would follow at once.
“Well then, Chang-dong. What was your impression of the Young Brother’s farming?”
“It was truly astonishing, my lord. That flow which arises when every part of nature moves in harmony. People often say that drops of water gather to form a great waterfall, yet this was something that had already left such notions behind. Each thing seemed small, yet when one looked closely, none of them was small at all…”
Mid-sentence Yeo Chang-dong realized he was rambling. He stopped, bowed his head in apology, and continued more carefully.
“I beg your pardon. It was simply a feeling difficult to put into words.”
“That would be so. But if that is all, then the Young Brother clearly has not yet displayed his true ability.”
“Then the reality is still greater?”
“They say seeing once is better than hearing a hundred times—yet how can mere watching grant enlightenment? Even if one watches a hundred times, without a single true exchange of insight, nothing can be understood.”
Just as Sa Unsik said, without experience one could never fully grasp it. If watching alone were enough for mastery, what meaning would secret martial manuals even hold? Most people would have to use a technique themselves simply to begin learning it.
“Even with his ability concealed, how…”
“An awl in a bag. One of true excellence reveals his nature no matter how carefully he hides it. Yet to recognize even that, one must stand at a certain height oneself. As expected, the Young Brother is indispensable to our Cult.”
Yeo Chang-dong nodded. He had glimpsed only a fragment, yet if farming could truly elevate martial skill, the resulting power would be immense—of that much he was certain.
“Where is the Young Brother now?”
“I believe the greatest likelihood is that he is in Chengdu.”
“Chengdu? This grows interesting. Did Yeo-un say she would go to meet the Young Brother?”
“Yes. She spoke those very words.”
“Good. Summon Commander Go.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Yeo Chang-dong rose and vanished from the chamber at once. Sa Unsik took another swallow of Doyakju, then clenched his fist toward the empty air as though seizing something invisible.
“Young Brother. You will not escape so easily. All of this has been prepared for you. Whatever I desire, I take.”
The vast farm Sa Unsik had raised was built, in part, upon the faintest hope that someone watching the work of cultivation might grasp something. Yet even Sa Unsik himself had never held great expectations on that score; the place had been readied simply in anticipation of Yoo Eunhyeon’s arrival, and for Yoo Eunhyeon alone.
“Cult Leader. Go Pae-ryang, Commander of the Cheonwidae, answers your summons.”
Before long Go Pae-ryang appeared. Sa Unsik began issuing orders concerning the events now unfolding in Chengdu.
Around that same time, Yoo Eunhyeon—having confirmed that all pursuit had truly ceased—had returned to Chengdu. Even on the road back he had kept a careful watch on his surroundings, yet the absence of trackers was almost dishearteningly complete. Somewhat relieved at last, he made for the inn where Ju Yu-ryeon and Ho Won-jik would be waiting.
“Roughly twenty days, is it?”
Yoo Eunhyeon muttered as he counted the days since his departure on his fingers. Somehow far more time had slipped away than he had expected.
He had been farming the whole while, so he had never grown bored. In truth, even if the skill levels had not quite matched, working the land alongside so many people for the first time had been a rather novel experience.
“Still a pity I never collected my wages.”
Ordinary day labor would have been one thing, but he had never imagined rising to squad leader. The faint regret of not having been paid properly for the work lingered—though more accurately it was curiosity about how much a squad leader earned. Since he had not gone there for money in the first place, he set the thought aside.
“Somehow the city feels more unsettled than when I left. The people in the streets—especially the martial artists—carry a certain tension.”
Chengdu was home to many Murim sects—the Tang Clan, the Apima, the Honjakmun, and others—so martial artists had always been numerous. Yet on the way to the inn he sensed a peculiar edge among those he passed.
“Did something happen?”
Thinking he would simply ask Ju Yu-ryeon and Ho Won-jik, Yoo Eunhyeon pushed open the inn door—and found an unexpected sight waiting.
“Welcome, honored guest.”
A waiter hurried out to greet him, but of course that was not what had startled Yoo Eunhyeon. The Ilcheon Inn where his party had been staying was never particularly crowded. Now the common room was packed; scarcely a seat remained empty.
“As you can see, we have no tables free for a meal. If you mean only to lodge, that is another matter, but…”
The waiter’s face was the same one Yoo Eunhyeon had seen throughout his stay, yet the man clearly did not remember him. In the trade a waiter would see countless faces in twenty days, and Yoo Eunhyeon’s features were nothing remarkable; forgetting him was hardly strange.
Even so, the way the waiter let his words trail off felt odd. He was giving Yoo Eunhyeon a blatant hint to leave if at all possible.
Because of those men?
The group occupying the inn looked ordinary enough at a glance. Their dishes were already empty; they sat drinking tea and conversing quietly.
Ten of them… martial artists. And they seem to be together.
The inn was not large; ten men alone filled it to bursting. Most paid Yoo Eunhyeon no attention, but the two nearest the entrance were listening carefully to the exchange with the waiter.
Even so, they were merely not missing conversation that reached them naturally—nothing more deliberate than that.
Still, an ordinary person would feel the pressure. It doesn’t bother me, but…
The waiter, knowing full well the men were martial artists, was trying to nudge Yoo Eunhyeon into coming back later. Yoo Eunhyeon himself felt no intimidation, yet there was no need to make a scene.
“I have no intention of staying. I am only looking for my companions…”
It was entirely possible Ju Yu-ryeon and Ho Won-jik had changed lodgings. If so, they would have left word here; all he needed was news of the two.
Hm?
The moment the words left his mouth, half the people inside the inn turned their attention toward him. Sensing something amiss, Yoo Eunhyeon was about to shake his head when the waiter smiled brightly and asked,
“Ah, is that so? May I ask the names of those you seek?”
Pleased that the guest seemed ready to ask his question and leave exactly as hoped, the waiter pressed cheerfully—yet the one left in a bind was Yoo Eunhyeon.
“Ho Won-jik, or Ju Yu-ryeon…”
He had no choice but to speak the names. The instant he did, every gaze inside the inn locked onto him.