I Wanted to Devour the World's Number One
I wanted to devour the World's Number One.
It was a simple story. The story of a man born to become a Sex Fiend, meeting an end befitting one.
And yet he had lived a life unlike any Sex Fiend before him. He never violated women indiscriminately, nor did he ruin their lives with the Lust Art or aphrodisiacs.
Where every man who had ever sat in the Sex Fiend's seat had traveled the same well-worn road, he walked right past it and carved out a path of his own.
He connected with the women renowned as the most beautiful in the world, shared his heart with them, and the moment he judged things had ripened enough, he claimed their maidenhood.
Some of those women already had partners, and some were widows… but whatever the case, there was no doubt that genuine feeling and love existed within those relationships.
Yet after spending his time with one woman, he would slip away before anyone noticed, only to do the exact same thing with a new woman and leave again. Over and over.
It was not, of course, a smooth journey.
The women who believed they had been abandoned moved to hunt down the Sex Fiend and kill him.
But he never stopped. He wandered from place to place, and one way or another, he kept winning women over.
Then, one day—
While savoring the company of the world's certified beauties, a tantalizing thought occurred to the Sex Fiend.
What if he conquered Geomseon, the Sword Immortal—the one they called the World's Number One?
Any ordinary person would have recoiled and told him to stop spouting madness, but the Sex Fiend was different.
The very foundation of his being was lust itself.
Once his interest in a woman was sparked, he had long since passed the point where he could ever let it go.
And so the Sex Fiend set out in search of Geomseon, and after years of searching, he found her.
Of course… the moment they met, her sword pierced his heart.
"Khh—driving a blade straight into my heart before so much as a word of greeting… isn't that temperament far too violent for an immortal?"
"This lady has no words to waste on a Sex Fiend blinded by carnal desire. You should be thanking her that your head did not leave your shoulders the moment you laid eyes on her—yet here you are, grumbling…."
Her snow-white hair whipped in the wind as Geomseon fixed him with those blue eyes, gazing at him the way one regards an insect.
Hers was the exact opposite of his jet-black hair, and without a trace of emotion—much less pity—she looked at him the way one looks at a beggar collapsed on a street corner.
"That's rather harsh. The feelings I shared with every woman I've ever held were genuine. Not a shred of falsehood in any of them."
"You still have the leisure to spout lies…? That every feeling you shared while holding all those countless women was sincere?"
"Why would I lie when I'm already at death's door? Right now, I am more honest and more sincere than anything in this world."
It was the truth.
He had never once been insincere with the women he had loved and connected with.
Of course… he did grow a little rough at night, but that was something they wanted too.
"Of course… I suppose you wouldn't understand, Sword Immortal."
"Any woman other than this lady would have shown the very same reaction."
Crunch, crunch…
Leaving delicate footprints in the snow-covered ground, she closed the distance to right before him and took hold of the sword that had pierced his chest.
"Thinking of the women you toyed with, I ought to tear you apart a thousand ways—but I decided a death without pain would serve better."
The way worthless trash simply fades away.
"How fortunate. I do despise pain, you see."
The Sex Fiend wiped the blood trickling from his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled.
"My name is Wi Jicheon. Wi Jicheon, the Sex Fiend. Still—to die at the hands of Geomseon, the World's Number One… what an honor."
"…I never asked for your revolting name."
Shluk!
With those final words, Geomseon wrenched the blade free from Wi Jicheon's heart.
"Khh… k-ghhh…!"
The pain of the blade being withdrawn was considerable… and yet he still did not lose his smile.
His vision grew hazy, little by little.
His senses faded, even the sounds reaching his ears dwindled, and before long, he lost consciousness entirely.
And so the demon who had commanded the world received, after death, the epithet Monstrous Sex Fiend—and carved his name into history at last.
His consciousness, adrift in the darkness, slowly began to wake.
Without even knowing it was waking, it drifted up toward the surface… rose again, and at last lifted its head.
"…Huh?"
His eyes opened of their own accord, and what greeted them was the ceiling of a familiar hall.
He sat up and looked around to find scenery familiar from a distant past.
What… is this?
This was, without a doubt, one of the private chambers given to the direct disciples of Yohwagung, the Alluring Flower Palace.
It was where he had grown from boy to man and learned so much… the place where the very foundation of who he was had been laid.
He hurriedly searched out a mirror and checked his own face.
It was the same face he'd worn when he had first come of age, and the violet eyes and moderately long black hair suited him well.
Not a speck of hard-earned maturity showed anywhere on him…
Don't tell me… I've come back?
Regression.
The phenomenon of turning back against the flow of time and returning to the past.
He remembered the enthusiasts chattering on about regression arts and the like.
He had always thought the very notion of rewinding a single person's time and sending them into the past was absurd…
But by this point, he had no choice but to believe it.
The fact that he… had returned to the past.
…Why on earth did I come back?
And yet he could not make sense of his situation.
It wasn't as if he had performed some legendary great art everyone spoke of but no one could confirm—and he had died with his heart pierced by Geomseon's blade. So why?
…There's nothing I can know right now.
Why had he regressed? Was this place he now stood in the complete, unaltered past? Not one of it could he fathom.
So first, he needed information.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Second Young Master, are you awake?"
Deep in thought, he heard the knock at the door.
"Enter."
At Wi Jicheon's word, the door opened and a woman with a brown bob cut, dressed in a business suit, stepped inside.
Carrying several documents against her chest, she offered a respectful bow and observed every courtesy.
"You're awake early today."
"…I'm in better condition than usual, that's all."
In the old days, as the Sex Fiend's disciple, he had devoted himself to nothing but the pursuit of women.
An obsession with the fairer sex was indeed one qualification for a Sex Fiend—but he had become so consumed by it that everything else fell by the wayside…
Of course, he had later come to his senses and started training, late as it was.
"How fortunate. Allow me to go over today's schedule."
Like a machine, she began reciting the day's tasks.
"Today you have a sparring match with the other young masters. And today, you will undergo the process of receiving the Sex Fiend's essence."
So this was around the time the Heavenly Blood Tournament was drawing near.
From his own realm of cultivation and the day's schedule, he could place himself in time.
The Heavenly Blood Tournament was a kind of martial exhibition where the senior disciples of the Demonic Cult displayed their power and talent before the Cult Master.
In orthodox terms, it was the counterpart of the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.
Of course, Wi Jicheon hadn't even cracked the rankings at that tournament.
The Sex Fiend and his disciples had never been formidable in martial might to begin with.
Only those who staked everything on lust and devoted themselves wholly to it could claim the title of Sex Fiend.
No wonder the Sex Fiends dropped like flies.
Before his regression, he had reached a realm beyond every Sex Fiend who came before him.
But he had harbored the arrogant conviction that he would always survive, that death would never come easily… and then he met Geomseon, and met his end.
Sex Fiend or not, he knew full well how much martial strength mattered.
The age of barbarism had faded into the modern era, but Murim remained intact.
Those with power and mighty martial arts still ruled the world.
Since the days of the Heavenly Demon Progenitor, the cult's founding master, the Sacred Cult had been pushed out of the Central Plains and put down roots in South Korea.
Fortunately, talent overflowed in this country, and the cult enjoyed a second golden age.
…Even if it still fell a little short of facing the Murim Alliance of the Central Plains, the fact that its power had swelled this far left him in genuine awe.
Europe brims with knights and magicians… and South America is full of martial artists who wield inscribed arts.
The world had changed and globalized, but the foundation of the world was still Murim.
And so… he had to grow stronger.
"Then let's start with a meal."
"…A meal, you say?"
Having received the full day's schedule, Wi Jicheon rose from his seat.
The bob-cut secretary was briefly flustered and asked again… but no answer came.
Small wonder—those who had mastered the Lust Art had no need to eat.
By absorbing essence, they took in every nutrient the body required.
But Wi Jicheon was different.
To build a relationship and grow close to someone, sharing a meal was inevitable.
From the moment he had received the name of Sex Fiend and left the Sacred Cult to wander, he had never once skipped a meal.
Sharing a leisurely meal and conversation had a wonderfully positive effect on deepening a relationship.
By now, meals had become something he simply could not do without.
"I got hungry all of a sudden. I found myself missing warm rice, not essence."
"…I see. Then I shall call the chefs."
"Good, I leave it to you."
With that, he rose from his seat and left the room ahead of her.
Even having returned to the past, he didn't know everything.
No one could remember every experience and memory from decades past with perfect clarity.
So for now… he would wander this place and that, retracing the memories of those days and thinking through what was to come.
On that foundation, he would prepare for the fortuitous encounters and events yet to be discovered, seize what needed seizing, and grow stronger.
Fate has granted me a second chance… so I might as well set my sights all the way to the top.
This time, he would march toward the World's Number One—the one he had never reached, never been able to hold.
Then as now, his goal had always been beautiful women.