The Heavenly Demon Goes to a Restaurant (3)

I took a sip of tea while watching the martial artist scramble away in a panic. With everything I had said, he would surely make a proper report if he valued his life. Well, even if he recounted every single thing that happened here, it wouldn’t be of much use anyway. After all, neither I nor Baek Hwaryeong could handle the current Murim Alliance.

“Did you really need to let him live?”

Baek Hwaryeong, who had just swallowed the soft, cake-like dessert that arrived for the final course, spoke up. The way she naturally reached for the next piece made it clear she quite enjoyed it.

“He stayed here even after you gave him the chance to flee. Wouldn’t it be better to take his head, if only out of spite?”

Her movements and tone were relaxed, but the emotion behind them was anything but. It seemed her hostility toward the Orthodox faction had not completely disappeared. Judging by how she spoke, if it weren’t for me or her benefactor, that man’s head would already be rolling.

“Killing something that isn’t even worth killing would only leave behind useless trash.”

“You’ve become quite the poet, haven’t you?”

When I turned my gaze away from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the grumbling Baek Hwaryeong, three pairs of puzzled eyes greeted me from the dining table. Beyond it, thousands more gazes were filled with confusion.

“For those who don’t know, I’ll explain. The person who just finished eating and left was a martial artist from the Orthodox faction. He was listening to our conversation the entire time.”

To be precise, it would be more accurate to call him a man from the Murim Alliance rather than the Orthodox faction.

“There are many ways to guess.”

Martial artists unconsciously carry the habits they have trained for a lifetime. The way they breathe. The way they move their hands or feet. The way they circulate their inner energy. All of it reveals where they belong. How could I not notice? Once someone reaches a certain realm, they can consciously control these tells, but the man earlier had not reached that level. So of course I noticed.

I explained all this to the viewers, but the chat was still filled with reactions saying they couldn’t understand. If they had any knowledge of martial arts, they would have understood my explanation completely. Since there was no better way to explain it, I simply told them to figure it out themselves and looked around the table.

Everyone was just about finished eating. They were chatting with satisfied smiles, clearly saying the meal had been enjoyable. It seemed it was time to part ways. The only reason I had started the broadcast again today was to show them this.

“I’ll end the broadcast now. See you tomorrow.”

“Is that so? How truly unfortunate. I shall pray for the goldfish’s soul in my heart.”

After ending the broadcast, I put my pipe to my lips, exhaled a puff of smoke, and spoke to Baek Hwaryeong.

“Well then. Now that the meal is over, you should head back. This seat must learn dosul from Baru.”

“... Dosul? Min-ga, why would you bother learning something like dosul?”

Baru and Baekju shot her sharp looks at the casual insult, but Baek Hwaryeong paid them no mind whatsoever.

“Wouldn’t it be better to spend that time challenging the pinnacle of martial arts?”

“I agree. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Min-ga. You, who can reach the heavens that no one else has ever touched—why are you learning dosul of all things?”

Right after Baek Hwaryeong spoke, my benefactor added her own words on top. As people who had lived their entire lives as martial artists and intended to devote everything to the path of martial arts, they could not understand my deviation. There was a time when I too thought dosul was only for dosul users, so I couldn’t say I didn’t understand their feelings.

“Does learning something need a reason?”

How could I possibly explain my circumstances to them? That I had seen someone in another world using both magic and martial arts together and wanted to imitate it. That magic was far ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too difficult and demanding for the current me, so I had chosen dosul as the alternative. If I told them I was training in dosul instead of martial arts for such a childish reason as wanting to recreate what I had seen, they would clearly look at me with pity. So I said nothing.

There were other reasons as well, but those were even harder to speak of, so silence was the best choice.

“If you keep living so lazily, this seat will overtake you one day.”

When I simply smiled and remained silent, my benefactor held her tongue as if she couldn’t help it, while Baek Hwaryeong grumbled like that. Haha. That sounds wonderful. If the day comes when you become my heaven, I will gladly stake my life to challenge you.

When Seol-ah woke up, she kept her face buried in her pillow and flailed her hand around, searching for her smartphone. After finally finding it and checking the time, she realized she had slept for nearly an entire day and was shocked. No way. Even though she had pulled several all-nighters making Hwaryeong-nim’s video, she hadn’t expected to sleep this long. She hadn’t planned on sleeping this much at all!

Scratching her messy hair, Seol-ah got out of bed, drank some water, and threw herself into the VR world. Once she arrived at her Murim-style personal room, she opened the internet window before anything else to check the view count on the video she had uploaded.

Seol-ah bit her nails, nervous. Her anxiety wasn’t about whether the video would succeed or fail. She was certain her video would become a hot topic. There was no way a video of Hwaryeong-nim and the Heavenly Demon fighting wouldn’t draw people’s attention.

Even so, the reason Seol-ah felt anxious was the fear that her editing might have been lacking, causing the view count to fall short of Hwaryeong-nim’s star power. Taking a deep breath, she checked the video and blinked at the view count.

...Huh? What is this? There’s no way it could have this many views in only twenty-four hours. Did I accidentally open the fan channel I used to run?

After checking again, Seol-ah finally confirmed that this was indeed the view count for the video she had uploaded yesterday.

Whoa. This is about the same level as when a really famous idol drops a new music video, isn’t it?!

What about the comments? Are the reactions good?

The reactions were good. The view count was still climbing rapidly with no sign of slowing down, and the community was in complete chaos on top of that?!

Faced with a far greater success than she had imagined, Seol-ah closed the internet window and flopped down on the wooden floor, staring up at the ceiling. As expected of Hwaryeong-nim. The original footage was already so incredible that even after light editing, it was captivating everyone.

Most people would feel both joy and pressure about the next project after achieving such huge success, but Seol-ah was different. In a way, it was only natural. To her, this success was only possible because Hwaryeong-nim was incredible. She didn’t think she had contributed at all.

Without the slightest doubt about Hwaryeong-nim’s greatness, she simply thought about making another video as soon as possible to show the world just how amazing Hwaryeong-nim was.

Hwaryeong-nim must know about this success by now, right?

Before sending a message to Hwaryeong-nim, Seol-ah habitually checked whether she was currently streaming. She wasn’t. Judging by the replay timer, it looked like the stream had just ended, so she was probably inside Hwaryong Muin playing with Baru-nim. Then it should be fine to send a message.

In Hwaryong Muin, the Heavenly Demon was a rare species and an absolute expert, so like other absolute experts, it used to be a view-count printer. But that was back when the game itself drew people’s interest. Hwaryong Muin had become so old that only dedicated players remained. Even if an amazing person appeared in Hwaryong Muin now, how many would actually care?

There was only one reason this video had grown so much in such a short time.

Because the person known as Hwaryeong herself was a figure who drew everyone’s attention. The battle she fought against the Heavenly Demon was so wondrous that even people who knew nothing about martial arts were captivated. That was why it had produced this result.

Seol-ah explained this enthusiastically, but Hwaryeong’s reaction was lukewarm. It was as if she didn’t like the admiration directed at her. Hwaryeong changed the subject while Seol-ah was still typing.

Seol-ah had not given Hwaryeong her account number when they made the contract before. She had made the excuse that she couldn’t remember it and would tell her when she got home. Of course that was a lie. Seol-ah remembered her account number perfectly, and even if she had forgotten, she could check it instantly by tapping her smartphone.

There was a reason Seol-ah had deliberately told such an obvious lie that even Hwaryeong, who was unfamiliar with modern technology, could see through.