The Black Flame Dragon Cashes In His Wager (3)
“Why isn’t he waking up?”
Ak Byeongbi’s brows furrowed. Even the physician, who had dealt with all sorts of riffraff in the black path world, found his intimidating face a bit overwhelming, his voice dropping low.
“Well... I still don’t know the exact cause. Probably because the wound was so severe, right?”
“You mean you don’t know precisely?”
“Most people who suffer massive shocks fall into a deep sleep for days or even weeks. Some...”
The physician clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence. Everyone in the room was glaring at him with sharp eyes.
Not just the Murim Alliance delegation, but Chaseokdu and Hwang Busik, Blood Battle and Salt Beauty, and even the elders propping up the Four Black Alliances. All of them were staring him down with a fierce intensity that could bore holes through his face.
“Ahem...”
With such heavyweights crowding around like they were fretting over a fallen emperor’s well-being, how could he not feel the pressure?
And among them, the one shooting the iciest glare was, without a doubt... Ak Byeongbi.
“Some... What were you going to say next?”
‘Months or even years... Maybe he’ll never wake up...’
That’s what he’d meant to say.
“What was it?”
...But he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth.
An emperor’s physician had to watch his tongue more than his healing skills, after all.
Still, he couldn’t just gloss over it forever.
“I-I’ll do my absolute best.”
Ak Byeongbi looked displeased with the physician’s words and started approaching him when Dang Seohee spoke up in a voice thick with tears.
“You were probably going to say he might never wake up...”
She sat perched on the edge of the bed like a lost puppy, gazing at Jin Sowoon.
The startled physician glanced around frantically and hurried to respond.
“I-I’ll make sure nothing like that happens!”
But...
“...”
“...”
No one pinned any hope on the physician’s words.
Starting with Chaseokdu, everyone read the mood and began filing out one by one. In the end, only the Murim Alliance delegation, Blood Battle, and Salt Beauty remained in the room.
“Let’s go. Staring won’t make him wake up any faster.”
As Blood Battle spoke, even the last holdouts started to rise reluctantly—
Drip—
A strange sound rang out.
“What was that?”
The startled group turned to the physician, wondering if he’d done something to Jin Sowoon.
But the physician, three steps away, just shook his head in confusion.
And then—
Drip—
The odd sound echoed again.
“Huh?”
That’s when a spark lit in Dang Seohee’s eyes.
At the end of her gaze...
...Jin Sowoon’s arm had grown longer than usual.
The shocked physician lunged toward Jin Sowoon, but Blood Battle struck his pressure point, stopping him cold.
“No one move!”
“...”
As the others stared at him in shock, Blood Battle flashed a meaningful smile.
“Unbelievable... That damn bastard’s got some luck.”
Everyone puzzled over Blood Battle’s cryptic words, but he just kept watching Jin Sowoon without answering.
It’s pitch black all around. Not cramped or anything... Feels like I’ve stepped into some vast expanse. So immense that I feel like less than a speck of dust. What the hell is this... Ah, did I die? Is this what comes after death?
‘Fuck my luck...’
Suddenly realizing that ignited a surge of rage.
They say lucky bastards pick up a gold nugget and immediately stumble on the next one, while unlucky schmucks get framed for theft even picking up a single coin and beaten to death...
My case fits the latter to a T.
‘Of all people to run into, I had to meet those Yin-Yang Twin Demons...’
My previous life wasn’t exactly charmed, but it wasn’t this cursed either.
Thinking back, my luck tanked after meeting those Small Justice Squad punks...
Crystal clear. I caught their bad luck.
Useless fucks, every one of them.
As I fumed, a red orb slowly expanded in the darkness, filling the space.
Inside it, an image appeared: me fighting the Yin-Yang Twin Demons.
‘What’s this now?’
Jegumhak erects an ice barrier, and I try to break through. But my attacks keep failing, and then the Formless Ghost Demon Corps joins in.
Just like what happened to me—events unfold exactly as I remember, ending with me collapsing in a pool of blood.
Like a perfect replay of how I died.
I thought I’d gotten stronger in this second life, but demons are demons, alright.
Looking back, I’d been underestimating them. How many big shots on the Yin-Yang Twin Demons’ level had I even faced? The Small Justice Squad mostly tangled with mid- and low-tier forces, so my standards stayed there.
‘Goddamn those weak-ass Small Justice Squad bastards!’
...Anyway, it’s their fault.
After getting the Taeul Divine Scripture, Reverse Horse Scripture, and Jade Pure Heavenly Star Force in this life, I shook off my fear of demons. But I was shortsighted.
My position in the Murim Alliance had changed, so the enemies I’d face would too.
I was still stuck in my past life memories.
Then—
‘Huh?’
The red orb shifted to gold.
Another scene: me battling Jegumhak again.
‘What?’
This time, it’s different.
I slip into his guard, unleashing Lotus Flower and Snow Flower. Breaking the ice barrier step by step with basic Socheon Sword Technique forms.
Hardly any internal energy drain.
In reality, I’d crushed foes with lightning and storm-like fury, but inside the orb, I dismantle him with fluid elegance and rock-solid precision.
So different, it barely looks like me.
‘Extend the sword like that?’
I began mimicking my movements slowly.
The images slowed to match.
Was it waiting for me to follow?
Crack— Crack—
Something kept snapping in the darkness, but I ignored it and kept copying.
Movements I botched at first improved after dozens, hundreds of reps.
Once perfected—
My image reset, fighting Jegumhak from the start again.
Crack— Crack— Snap, snap.
Irrelevant noises echoed everywhere.
I focused on the fight.
This time, the image unleashes Radiant Heaven Divine Palm and swings sword aura.
‘Damn! Could’ve ended it that fast?’
Compared to the real fight, it’s ridiculously short.
Overwhelming dominance wraps it up before the Formless Ghost Demon Corps even shows.
Absurd speed in subduing the Yin-Yang Twin Demons.
‘Impressive, but...’
Too dominant to feel real. Does it account for my actual proficiency and energy reserves?
Complicated thoughts swirled, but I just kept mimicking.
This time, including internal energy flow.
Crack— Crack-crack— Snap, snap, snap.
The noises grew louder. Oddly, each one brought a clear-headed rush.
Anyway, priority was absorbing those forms into mind and body.
Repetition made them sink in.
But then—
‘Huh?’
The noises cut off abruptly, overwhelming drowsiness crashing in.
‘No! Just one more form! One more...!’
Even knowing my perfect memory, I strained to see more.
This sensation felt like it might slip away unremembered.
But—
‘Fucking hell...’
Like against the Yin-Yang Twin Demons, my eyes slid shut.
Consciousness stirred from sleep, trying to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t budge.
Blink. Blink.
Rubbing them forcibly dislodged crusty gunk, and they finally opened.
A strange ceiling stared back. The furnishings and scent were utterly unfamiliar.
What? Third life already?
Checking my dantian—
‘...What the fuck.’
Four Peaks’ worth of thirty extra years’ Taeul Divine Scripture energy pulsed.
Not a third life. I marveled.
‘Holy shit, I survived. Haha.’
Even I had to laugh at the absurdity.
The blood I’d lost was impossible for one man to survive...
Was Hua Tuo reincarnated hiding in the Four Black Alliances? Hmm, worth recruiting a skilled physician.
Better as Tae-eul Gate’s exclusive doc for the righteous and pure than stuck with black path scum, right?
Yeah, exactly.
Wrapping up that productive thought, I turned to call someone—room seemed empty—
‘What’s this?’
...Damak’s back came into view.
He read documents, scribbled furiously with his brush, read more, scribbled again.
Hmm, feels familiar.
Scritch, scritch.
Yeah, definitely seen this.
Last time, the chief strategist did the exact same behind an injured guy.
Does working behind the wounded boost efficiency? I’m not a talisman, damn it.
“Ahem...”
I cleared my throat softly. Damak dropped his brush like it burned him and shot to his feet.
“Are you alright?”
As I propped myself up, hand pressing into the bed—
Crack.
My hand punched right through the mattress.
“Huh?”
What kind of flimsy bed is this? Pulling my hand free, I grabbed the side rail to stand—
Crunch.
...The rail shattered helplessly.
“...”
Damak eyed me with gray eyes.
Tsk, even if I trashed Four Black Alliance stuff, I did save your life. That’s a bit too pointed, no?
I sheepishly withdrew my hand.
“Hmm... Guess they cheaped out on materials.”
“The alliance leader’s quarters are built with the finest materials.”
“Huh?”
This was the Four Black Alliance leader’s room?
I glanced around. Damak added calmly,
“It’ll take time to adjust to your changed body, as you said. Move carefully.”
I tilted my head.
“Changed body?”
“Blood Battle said you’d understand.”
Come to think of it, I’d bled buckets and fought like hell.
Yet no muscle pain, joints smooth as butter.
What the hell happened?
“Ask Blood Battle later if you’re curious. Seems he’s the only one here—delegation or alliances—who knows.”
“I see.”
Damak eyed me briefly, then asked politely,
“Tea?”
Polite offer, but he was already pouring.
Since he’d waited alone while the delegation left, there was intent here.
Worried about another mishap(?), I sat gingerly and gripped the cup lightly.
Crack.
Shit.
“...From the Zhao era, an antique...”
No, don’t use valuables like that then.
I coughed awkwardly.
“Uh... got a normal cup?”
“...Sigh. Just use it. It’s already cracked.”
Damn, embarrassing me like this.
“Ahem.”
Staring at the steam from the cracked cup, I felt Damak’s piercing gaze.
Fuck. Did he see everything in the formation?
I confirmed I was out cold before moving...
As I pondered excuses, Damak spoke first.
“Why’d you save me?”
“Huh?”
The unexpected question blanked my mind.
I carefully set the cup down unbroken and countered,
“Why’s that bug you?”
“Any reason it shouldn’t? ...I opposed the Four Black Alliances’ alliance with the Murim Alliance to the end. Even said we’d go to war with them.”
Damak paused, shook his head as if sorting thoughts, and continued.
“Strategically, tactically—leaving me wasn’t the rational choice.”
Sharp as ever.
I couldn’t help a pleased smile.
True. But you’ll fight the Demonic Cult with me later.
Can’t hog all the wheelin’ and dealin’ alone, right?
Damak was, to me, a prime ‘wager’ worth claiming.
But no need to bare my soul.
I flashed a smile kinder than to Ilgak or anything.
“Consider it settling a debt.”
“A debt?”
I met his puzzled eyes.
“The debt the Murim Alliance owed when you waited so desperately, and they didn’t reach out.”
“...”
Damak’s pupils wavered complexly.
That sharp gaze looked a tad duller up close.
Silence lingered.
Still conflicted, Damak forced his lips open.
“...That’s not a debt you owe.”
“I know. No need to feel burdened.”
“...For someone playing the noble wanderer, you took too big a risk.”
He seemed desperate to paint my act as hypocrisy.
But cognitive dissonance kept tripping him up.
I watched his tormented face.
“The Murim Alliance you see is probably the real one.”
Damak’s eyes flashed sharply.
“...So don’t hate them all? That what you’re saying?”
I shook my head.
“You’re the Four Black Alliances’ chief strategist now. Shouldn’t the Alliance’s mere existence make hatred bubble up?”
“...”
“Not trying to make you feel grateful or indebted. Eventually, the Four Black Alliances and Murim Alliance will be enemies anyway.”
Damak looked dumbfounded.
I pressed on, eyeing him.
“When that happens, you’ll face me. No mercy or consideration then. Though you couldn’t beat me even at full strength anyway.”
“...”
Damn, just a joke—why the stiff face? Embarrassing me.
“Anyway, that’s then, this is now. I’m here as Murim Alliance envoy, and we’ve got a truce over shared foes. So we help each other, right?”
“...By throwing your life away?”
I scratched my cheek.
Truth was, bigger part was personal grudge against Jegumhak—no, the demon impersonating Gonyu-hyeon. How many times had those bastards deceived people like that in my past life? Felt good smearing their faces for once.
Also settling a past-life debt to Damak.
“Eh, everyone’s got limits to their actions. I just lean riskier than most.”
“Riskier?”
I waved it off dismissively.
“Anyway, that’s it. No more to say—drop it if you’re repeating.”
“...”
Damak stared into my eyes long, then sighed softly and bowed his head.
“How’d you know his identity?”
“Who?”
“Gun... Yuhyeon.”
The betrayal cut deep, apparently. His hands trembled faintly.
I eyed them steadily before speaking.
“Remember the day we first met?”
“Yes.”
That day, Gonyu-hyeon’s aid got me in the same room as Damak. And there, he slipped, revealing himself.
“The ones from Bokyang Plains. Hiding in shadows. Even flares only let the closest see them blurry.”
Damak tilted his head.
“But he saw them clearly from afar. Weird, right?”
Damak’s mouth slowly gaped.
“B-But that day, you agreed with him, didn’t you?”
I chuckled.
“Investigate discreetly later, obviously.”
“...”
I pulled out the Haomen report.
“Investigation on Cheonggwan Gate. Their young master Gonyu-hyeon was a spoiled tyrant trusting his dad, terrorizing from childhood.”
Such a guy suddenly reformed into current Gonyu-hyeon? People don’t change that easily.
There should’ve been a process—none in the report. Overnight transformation, like a new person...
“Plenty more clues. Treating money like stones...”
“So?”
“No one treats wealth like rocks, no matter how rich. But he did—literally.”
I tapped the report.
“Means money’s worthless to him, like stones. Not someone with enemies in the martial world.”
Damak stayed silent long after I finished.
Finally, he lifted his head slowly.
“You—or rather, Black Flame Dragon—want peace between Murim Alliance and Four Black Alliances because of them?”
Sharp as ever. Grasping the big picture already.
Exactly why I need him.
‘You’ beats Black Flame Dragon, though...
“You experienced it this time, right?”
“...”
“Can the Four Black Alliances, Murim Alliance, or any single sect stand against them alone?”
Not to jinx, but those bastards nearly collapsed the alliances with under twenty men.
Who knows what happens when they move for real.
Shadows fell over Damak’s face at my words.
“Who the hell are they?”
I pondered.
Right to tell? Or not?
Normally, no. But Damak’s different.
Enemy of Four Black Alliances now, but can’t go solo.
Whether he gets it or not—at least recall my words when shit hits.
Damak’s that vital. Worth staking my life to claim, like prime wager.
I crossed my arms, then murmured quietly.
“Five hundred years ago, the heaven-flippers. Reverse Heaven.”
“...”
I met his eyes head-on.
“Demonic Cult.”
“Demonic Cult?”
“They call themselves Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.”
His eyes widened impossibly.