Chapter 67
Chapter 67
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Guardian's Great Fortune (2)
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Strictly speaking, he had every reason to see Cheon Gil-ryong as the enemy who let his brother die. Yet Cheon Gil-ryong maintained a friendly, village-uncle demeanor throughout. Jin-hyuk bowed deeply, pleased by the man's attitude. Then, remembering his original purpose, he looked up at Cheon Gil-ryong.
Clear eyes sparkling with a unique light beyond his sharp gaze. How could an old man's eyes shine like a child's? Jin-hyuk lost himself in the mysterious impression for a moment.
"You didn't come just to vent and have me listen, did you? What was so curious that a young punk like you sought out a superstitious old coot like me?"
His eyes said he already knew the reason. Jin-hyuk finally stated his purpose.
"Well... a lot of strange things have been happening to me lately."
Cheon Gil-ryong closed his eyes and listened intently.
Thanks to that, Jin-hyuk could explain the incidents in chronological order, step by step.
From the real estate fatty incident to using force against Yoon Sung-dong's gang, his suddenly healed backache, and his sister seeming unbitten by the snake—everything.
After hearing Jin-hyuk's explanation, Cheon Gil-ryong clicked his tongue.
"Hey, you little punk—."
Starting off, Cheon Gil-ryong took a couple of deep breaths like he was revving an engine. His chest moved in a special way with each breath. It felt like a dragon long asleep was awakening, a strange tension tickling Jin-hyuk's nape.
After a brief pause—perhaps truly to get started—Cheon Gil-ryong finally unleashed a torrent like a sputtering cultivator.
Ah, right? Jin-hyuk shrank back. He couldn't retort that the snake wouldn't have spat venom at the still Yu-jin if it felt threatened. The straight pitches pouring like a waterfall were too sharp.
Kim Eun-jung once saw a cow peeing while playing with kids. The gushing stream was less excretion and more a bladder explosion. Cheon Gil-ryong's speech resembled that. Yet his calm breathing remained steady, his clear tenor voice unflustered. Diaphragmatic breathing, huh.
Jin-hyuk set aside his admiration for now.
'So the snake spat venom because it was startled by General?'
Jin-hyuk's expression turned dumb. Cheon Gil-ryong's words sounded utterly convincing. Maybe he'd lived so foolishly in the past that he still lacked normal human emotions. Still, he didn't shrink or lose composure. It must've been the effect from that watermelon frostbite experience.
"Heh! That kid."
Seeing the boy mull it over without affirming or denying, Cheon Gil-ryong fanned himself like he was burning up inside.
"Too much worry and you're useless, kid. Try holding the whole world in your heart, and you'll end up with jack squat—."
Cheon Gil-ryong's words pierced Jin-hyuk's heart again as he unleashed another torrent.
Intangible cultural asset, my ass—he was more like a rapid-fire rapper born in the wrong era. Grandpa from Two-Neri Outsiders. Maybe not a shaman but a hermit who'd mastered ventriloquy from reading bizarre prose.
"So no ghosts? Nothing attached to my body—."
"Ha! What the hell, kid! Look at you, perfectly fine, spouting ghost nonsense like a fool!"
Face red, Cheon Gil-ryong swung his pipe and stomped around.
Kuh, Jin-hyuk finally burst out laughing. It felt like the man was on his side. He'd unburdened some worries—not all, but enough—and got the answer he wanted. A faint smile played on his eyes and lips.
He politely offered a few crisp ten-thousand-won bills with both hands.
"Thank you. Here—."
"Keep your money, kid—don't forget this lesson! I'll offer a few at my brother's funeral too."
"Yes, sir."
Thinking his parents' death anniversary now aligned with Elder Cheon Ki-ryung's ascension day, Jin-hyuk bowed deeply.
'Anyway, no need to feel uneasy anymore?'
Jin-hyuk headed home in high spirits. He'd come with doubts but received unexpected comfort.
The day was hot, cicadas deafening his ears, but his heart walked through heaven. His tangled thoughts had sorted themselves out, and the nagging unease was gone.
He strolled slowly with General, admiring the scenery. It'd been ages since he'd felt such leisure. He even felt a thrill like a real fourteen-year-old punk. Another strange thing.
"Headed out after breakfast, clack— new straw sandals fit just right—."
He paused his song and glanced back at Cheon Gil-ryong's house.
From the porch on the hillside, he felt the old man's gaze. Quite a distance, but no trouble meeting those eyes.
Jin-hyuk bowed once more in respect, and Cheon Gil-ryong waved his pipe in greeting.
Then, the limp, colorful flags began fluttering. A wondrous sight. At the same time, one of Jin-hyuk's long doubts resurfaced.
'But why hang the Taegukgi?'
Still, the national flag at the top.
The fluttering flags twisted Cheon Gil-ryong's brow oddly.
"Noisy with no customers—maybe take 'em all down?"
Leaning on the porch pillar, Cheon Gil-ryong watched Jin-hyuk's receding figure. Already a full-grown man despite his age. A man? Tougher than the giants who rode bulls on Dano day back in the day.
'Never thought the kid would come on his own.'
When they'd sat face-to-face, Cheon Gil-ryong had been overwhelmed by the boy and hadn't examined him closely. The boy's appearance was to blame. He wore a baggy long-sleeve shirt like someone hiding his build, but no one could miss what lay beneath.
'What trick did he use? Such fearsome power.'
Not just sturdy—muscles and sinews woven with heroic spirit pulsed vividly, yet the boy contained that immense power casually, like breathing. A masterful aura that would've driven others mad. The boy handled it effortlessly—truly wondrous.
'A real powerhouse.'
And his eyes? Brimming with yang energy, sparkling unpredictably. Innate talent for anything, impossible to predict. Such people often live unremarkably despite gifts—their temperaments are eccentric, and focus eludes them. If born in the city, maybe he'd bloom in one thing. That's why they say send them to Seoul.
'Born under starlight with every talent imaginable...'
Destined for mediocrity without nurturing it. But his fate shifted to a humble home where not even moonlight seeps in, talents intact. Probably because his parents lived—and that extraordinary power dwelling in him.
Endless learning, they say. His heart raced like finding fresh research material.
"Heh, that punk. Thought he came to kill me too."
He needed 18 more years to hit 100.
Exhaling smoke from his pipe, Cheon Gil-ryong patted his chest.
"So that's how the great fortune shifted."
A puzzle unsolved for years.
The neighborhood's energy had changed because of the kid, but how? Seeing his abundant yang qi made it click.
'Let me see... when was it.'
Cheon Gil-ryong dredged up memories over 70 years old.
It was a neighborhood rife with murderous energy.
Sunny, yet the sea carried yin qi deep into the village day and night, making the overall vibe damp and gloomy.
Born in Hamgyong-do, young Cheon Gil-ryong had been brought to this village long ago by his brother. He was under ten—around the March 1st Movement year, Gimi.
"Brother, why come to such a deserted place? Wolves howling, foxes crying—it's scary."
"Looked凶 from afar. Without yang to suppress it, the water'll swallow the land someday."
"Isn't it natural for land to melt in water, water to shift land?"
"It's not just this plot vanishing. That land could become a nation, a continent. Countless deaths. Heaven's will."
Climbing the mountain overlooking the gray sea thick with mud, Cheon Gil-ryong never forgot his brother's grave expression.
"This is the navel. Our lifelong mission."
Young Cheon Ki-ryung had a mystical air; locals followed willingly. He established a cemetery on the sea-adjacent mountain and built a house at its entrance to live with his brother.
'Scary as hell...'
Will-o'-the-wisps, eerie cries, foxes digging graves with growls. Without his bold brother, Cheon Gil-ryong might've gone mad. After his brother's passing, the first thing he did was petition to dismantle the cemetery. Nothing scared him now, but childhood fears resurfaced.
Finishing his hazy childhood reminiscence, Cheon Gil-ryong opened his eyes.
The boy now ant-sized in the distance gave him a vague sense.
Just vague.
'No ghost on him.'
Yet his spirit was strong, like two people in one.
Not even his revered brother compared.
He regretted not examining closely, dazzled by the exterior.
On new moon night, watching the moon rise from a fire can, Cheon Ki-ryung had said:
"Brother, look at that. We can quit guardian god duty and ascend. That kid's impressive."
Having seen the boy up close, Cheon Gil-ryong agreed, but ascension held no appeal.
This world was good.
Puffing his pipe noisily, Cheon Gil-ryong grumbled behind him.
"Come out, you lot. He's gone."
Don't ghosts know shame, hiding scared?
His muttering hand trembled too.
Staring at the shaking pipe, Cheon Gil-ryong furrowed his brow.
His brother's pipe.
'Why's this damn stem jinxing me now?'