Sichuan Tang Clan (8)
At times like this, I needed to stay calm.
Flailing desperately to survive would only end up like that merchant—black blood streaming from his body in rivulets.
Logically, the surest way to survive was to break through the ceiling and escape. After all, Tang Yeong-hwan was on my side; he might protect me or cover for me. If I was lucky, I could leave without meeting anyone.
But if I ran into someone and caused a commotion, it would be the end. Dying from the poison would be a brief agony, but the Tang Clan always hungered for test subjects. They would never let a martial artist who walked in of their own accord go free. I had even seen a criminal dragged into the Tang Clan at the Dragon Phoenix Gathering screaming for his life.
By now he was probably a poison-soaked corpse, like tanghulu on a stick, stored away in some poison vat.
Moreover, even if I survived by luck, there was no way I'd have time to fill the tunnel, so the plan to raid the Tang Clan would fail for good. The Demonic Cult would stubbornly pin the blame on me, and I had boasted to the Hao Sect that I would destroy the Tang Clan, so my dignity would be a total wreck.
Ultimately, I could prolong my life a little longer, but I would lose too much. Crawling out through the ceiling was the worst option.
"Huwp!"
So the first thing I prioritized was plugging the wall where poison was seeping. I had to minimize the poison aura I was inhaling and somehow quickly dig the tunnel again to get out.
I scooped up the dirt from the floor, put strength into my hands, and jammed it into the hole. Still not enough, I tore the clothes off the fallen corpse, soaked them in blood, and stuffed them into the cracks. Finally, I scraped up the damp dirt from the floor and roughly but firmly sealed the gap.
"F... fuck...!"
But the moment I finished, I collapsed to the floor, pain stabbing through me as if needles were pricking my whole body. Strength drained from my limbs, and my vision blurred until I could barely see. I flailed and twisted, trying to dig, but I couldn't even control my hands and feet.
I had held my breath, but the poison that touched my skin had already spread silently through my body. At that speed, even if I had tried to break through the ceiling to survive, I would have inhaled the poison in an instant and collapsed.
The time I'd spent thinking was brief, and I'd held my breath and immediately plugged the hole.
But all I'd done was hold my breath.
At most, I'd merely tried to plug the hole with my hands wrapped in thin cloth.
Come to think of it, even the Tang Clan's Poison Human wore a mask and used strange techniques to avoid exposure when entering. Someone with no poison resistance and no knowledge of how to handle it could never withstand it by simply holding their breath.
"Kheuk...! Eeok...!"
My breath choked off, and my vision went black. Each breath brought the taste of blood to my mouth, and a pain like my acupoints were on fire spread through my body. I involuntarily curled up; I couldn't even scream properly. My fingers and toes turned purple, and when I touched my face, the veins were beginning to bulge.
If I stayed like this a little longer, I too would become a pitch-black corpse underground. The Demonic Cult bastards would come someday, retrieve both my corpse and the other guy's, and mourn him. Then they would sneer at my worthless greed and spit on my corpse.
"F-fuck...!"
Thinking that, my blood boiled with rage. I didn't want to die so miserably, falling for someone else's scheme. Even if I died, I wanted to go down fighting like a man. Isn't it said that the fulfillment of life is death? But dying not while trying to fuck the Heavenly Demon, but at the hands of some lowly Demonic Cult scum?
Was it ending this futilely?
"A-yuk...! Kkeuk...! Ak...!"
The poison was spreading through my entire body. If this continued, my body would rot and fester, and I would end up like a demented old man, shrieking that he didn't want to die while inhaling the smell of dirt.
Was there really no way?
Nothing I could do to survive?
No way to extract the poison?
"Aaaaak...! Kkeu-euk...!"
A method to extract poison from the body.
Was there any way to draw it out?
"Fuuuuuck...!"
There didn't seem to be one. No matter how much I thought, I couldn't have learned such a thing. If I'd known this would happen, I should've gotten Seon-go pregnant before leaving. If I'd known, I should've stuck my dick in Hong Ye's ass too.
"Aaa-euk...!"
At the final moment, women's faces came to mind. I remembered meeting Sannyeo, proposing a deal to Seon-go. The memory of making Im Seo-ryeon squirt during her first 'massage' surfaced. Then secret meetings with Eun Ho-seol in the mansion's corner, and training with Hong Ye.
I had wanted to learn all the advanced stages of Taijiquan.
Hong Ye's teachings echoed in my ears.
[If the foundation of Taijiquan is about overcoming and handling force, then the advanced stages of Taijiquan are about handling qi.]
"Huh...?"
[Sir, from now on you will practice emitting that energy through your palm. It is about moving another's qi as if it were your own and extracting it.]
There was. A way to extract poison. Not certain, but in this life-or-death moment, I had no choice but to try.
I closed my eyes, recalled Hong Ye's teachings, and began to concentrate. Driven by the will to live, I forced qi to flow and tried to discern the poison aura that had infiltrated my body. Then, like a drop of dye spreading in water, the flow of poison aura spreading through my body in a smokelike form became clearly perceptible.
The flow of poison, which I'd only vaguely imagined consuming my body, now felt tangible and concrete.
[First, you will practice enveloping the invading energy with your own qi. As if using a hand inside your body to seize a mass of qi....]
I tried to press from all sides, gathering the poison aura into one spot. But just as water scatters when you try to grab it, the moment I pushed with qi, the poison mixed with the qi flow and invaded my body further.
"A-yuk!"
Pain surged each time. By trying to seize it forcibly, I only made it rebel. Writhing in another sharp jolt, I rolled my eyes back and sank into thought.
Wasn't that the wrong approach? She said to seize it, but that came after giving it form. How do we give form to something formless? When cleaning up spilled water or picking up scattered trash, do we just grab it haphazardly by hand?
No.
We push.
With shape and force, we push it in one direction like a wave, gathering it into form, then move it all at once.
When Hong Ye taught me, she shaped the qi and sent it, so a beginner like me started with the grabbing process. But in truth, it had to be accompanied by pushing out the invading qi and giving it form.
"Kkeueueu...!"
Eyes closed, I once again focused every ounce of strength. This time, it wasn't about brute-forcing internal energy. I concentrated on pouring my internal energy in one direction like a wave—not too sharply at one point, but spreading evenly through my body to divert the poison aura's flow.
"Aaaaahhh...!"
I could do it.
I could do it.
I had to survive.
I was destined to become the Number One Under Heaven; I couldn't die in a place like this.
Even in my fading consciousness, I repeated deep breaths, reaffirming my resolve again and again.
*******
The next morning.
Two men carrying shovels swaggered into the building.
They had cloth wrapped around their faces and medicinal herbs thickly smeared all over their bodies. They also carried long awl-like tools, in case the poison inside erupted.
"Fortunately, it hasn't completely collapsed. Still, it shouldn't take too long."
The man said as he examined the tunnel. The tunnel leading underground toward the Tang Clan had collapsed, but the entrance still retained its shape. If they just dug through the soft dirt, they could reopen it within half a day.
The other man shivered and asked.
"What if we go in and the bastard is alive? They said he is a peak-level expert."
The man scoffed.
"He's soaked in poison; even if he is alive, he's not living. We'll just whack his head with this shovel, tidy up the place, bury our brother properly, and contact the Demonic Cult. That's all."
"Ah, well, since it's the Tang Clan's Poison Human, it must be monstrous. Maybe he's already completely dissolved—not even a skeleton left?"
"That would be easy for us! Come on, let's work quickly! The boss is waiting inside!"
The man said so and raised his shovel. But just as they were about to plunge it into the dirt with all their might, the loose soil rustled, and a bloodless, pale hand shot out, seizing his throat.
"Euk...!"
The man's eyes went wide. Unable to scream, he met the gaze of the other person, whose whole body was caked in dirt, breathing roughly through sunken cheeks.
"...Did you come to check if I was dead?"
It was Docheol.
His whole body was drenched in sweat, and black bloodstains had dried on his lips, but he was alive.
"Uwaaaahhh!"
The other man, overcome with fear, raised his shovel high and screamed. Docheol hauled himself up, half-buried in the dirt, and swung a fist at the man's jaw.
"Kkeuik...!"
It looked like a light tap, but the moment the fist connected with his jaw, the man's head snapped backward and he collapsed to the floor with a sickening sound.
"N-now, Great Hero! L-let's talk! H-how did this... aaaaaargh!"
Docheol tightened his grip.
The dangling man begged, screamed, blood spewing from all seven orifices.
The once-confident Demonic Cult subordinate turned into a blood-soaked mess, like a poorly slaughtered piece of meat.
"Huff...! Fuck...!"
Only then did Docheol fall to his knees, panting, and sprawl on the ground.
When he raised his head a little, he could see the ceiling.
Clear air and the ceiling.
Docheol let out a thick, ragged breath and smiled.
"It is the Heavenly Mandate. The Heavenly Mandate."