The Phantom Demon's Descendant (1)
A month had passed since the chaotic incident at the Tang Clan.
Seomun Hwan was, as always, lying on his bed and staring blankly at the ceiling.
“Yaaawn!”
He stretched out a long yawn and tossed and turned several times beneath the blankets.
At that moment, a familiar sigh reached his ears.
“Sigh… Young Master. Are you really doing this again?”
When he turned his head, Deokheum stood with his arms crossed, looking down with a disapproving expression.
“What? Why do you keep sighing like the world’s ending?”
“Young Master, aren’t you supposed to be the successor of the Kunlun Sect? Rumors call you the greatest talent under the heavens, yet here you are, rolling around in bed every single day.”
Seomun Hwan answered with hazy eyes.
“Looks like you still don’t believe me.”
“That’s right. I absolutely cannot believe it. You, the successor of the Kunlun Sect…? Whatever happened at the Tang Clan last time must have been pure luck.”
Seomun Hwan chuckled. Then, as if the conversation had grown tiresome, he burrowed back under the blankets.
“Ah, how many times do I have to say it? I’m clearly in the middle of training right now.”
“Where in the world is there training that involves lying down, Young Master!”
Deokheum protested loudly, clearly at his wit’s end, but Seomun Hwan remained perfectly calm.
“This is the divine art I created. It’s called Walyong-singong, the Reclining Dragon Divine Art. A revolutionary training method where internal energy piles up just by lying still. Got it now?”
“Reclining Dragon… what? There’s no way something like that exists!”
Seomun Hwan replied casually.
“The pinnacle of martial arts is muwi jayeon—action through non-action. The realm where you do nothing at all, simply lying still and becoming one with nature. I have finally grasped it.”
“Haaa…”
Deokheum shook his head wearily.
“Anyway, please get up now! The second young master and the warriors are training outside as we speak.”
“Why should I? Second Brother is the martial arts instructor now. Father already gave his permission, so I’m going to ignore everything and rest comfortably.”
“This is really too much, Young Master.”
Deokheum let out another sigh, but Seomun Hwan paid him no mind.
Of course, Seomun Hwan hadn’t simply been playing around for the past month.
The moment he returned from the Tang Clan, he had completely overhauled and advanced the clan’s martial arts to a revolutionary degree. The results were so impressive they wouldn’t fall behind even the techniques of the Nine Sects and One Gang.
Deokheum spoke as if he truly couldn’t understand.
“How is something like that even possible? Modifying martial arts? Don’t tell me… you passed on the Kunlun Sect’s techniques?”
“As if.”
“Then how?”
“I simply watched what others were using, figured out the martial arts, roughly combined them, and created something new.”
“…Pardon? You figured them out just by watching? Is that even possible?”
Even someone with no knowledge of the martial world could tell how absurd the claim sounded.
“It is for me.”
Seomun Hwan tapped lightly around his eyes with a finger.
His pupils turned a brilliant golden hue as the complete form of an octagonal star slowly revealed itself.
It was called the Hyeonwon-geuman—the Mysterious Golden Eye.
An ocular technique that could see the flow of an opponent’s qi, analyze their martial arts, footwork, palm techniques, and even the structure of their internal energy.
The moment he pierced through the flow, the structure of the martial art assembled in his mind like puzzle pieces fitting together. Everything organized into a single completed form that he could immediately make his own.
As the octagonal star in his pupils radiated bright golden light…
“This is exhausting.”
It was an advanced technique he hadn’t been able to use easily even in his previous life. Because it consumed tremendous concentration and internal energy, he could only maintain it for a few seconds at his current level.
Even so, its power remained unchanged.
“If I had picked up the sword, I would have become the Sword Demon. With the spear, the Spear Ghost. With the bow, the God of Archery.”
No matter what he chose, he would have stood at the peak of the world.
Yet the reason he had deliberately delved into illusion arts was…
Because it had the highest ceiling.
Among all martial arts, he had judged illusion techniques to possess the greatest potential. They were strong not only in one-on-one combat but also against multiple opponents. With minimal effort, one could deceive enemies or drive them to self-destruction.
The ultimate illusion arts could even deceive the world itself. They could create something from nothing, turn existence into nothingness, manipulate reality, or twist concepts.
Of course, it required a truly enormous amount of internal energy to match that power…
Deokheum couldn’t understand even half of what Seomun Hwan was saying, but he understood one thing clearly.
“You really are something else, Young Master.”
There was zero emotion in Deokheum’s voice. He clearly thought it was all nonsense.
Well, it didn’t matter.
“Yaaawn! No one else nags me anymore, so why do you keep doing it?”
Even his father no longer said anything. The achievements that had raised the clan’s prestige, along with his recent accomplishments, had been more than enough.
Ever since the rumor spread that he was the successor of the Kunlun Sect, countless requests had flooded into the Seomun Clan like a tidal wave. Everyone wanted to form some kind of connection with them.
Thanks to that, his eldest brother was buried in work every day, screaming in both joy and despair.
With both capital and military power as its wings, the Seomun Clan was now truly soaring toward the center of the martial world.
“Still a long way to go, though.”
It was then.
[Caw!]
The cry of a crow sounded from afar.
Soon, a crow with dark blue feathers flew over with a flutter of wings and gently landed on Seomun Hwan’s wrist.
Seomun Hwan stroked the crow softly, as if it were a pet dog he raised at home.
“There, there.”
The crow sat quietly on the back of his hand for a while before pecking gently at the end of his sleeve.
It seemed to be trying to tell him something.
[Caw!]
Deokheum watched the scene with a strange look before asking.
“Young Master… that crow has been coming often lately. What exactly is it?”
Seomun Hwan laughed lightly.
“It’s in charge of information gathering.”
“…Pardon?”
“One of my spies. Didn’t you know?”
Deokheum’s eyes widened.
“A crow… is a spy?”
“It can’t speak, but it has eyes and ears.”
No matter how he thought about it, the ones who had attacked the Black Dragon Sect still bothered him.
That was why he had sent crows in every direction to thoroughly scour the current state of the martial world.
Thanks to them, he had obtained a great deal of information, but he had also realized one thing.
Crows alone weren’t enough to gather, organize, and classify information at the level he needed.
“I could do it myself, but that would be incredibly annoying and time-consuming. I can’t keep burdening my brother with it either…”
After letting out one final, drawn-out yawn, Seomun Hwan finally sat up.
“Deokheum.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“I’ll be going out tonight, so get things ready.”
“Pardon? You’re not going to the brothel again, are you?”
Ever since returning from the Tang Clan, Seomun Hwan had unusually refrained from visiting any pleasure houses.
Now that his name was widely known, Deokheum had thought he wouldn’t wander in and out of brothels as carelessly as before.
…Or so he had believed, but Seomun Hwan spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“That’s right. I’m thinking of heading to a brothel.”
“Sigh… Of course you are, Young Master.”
Deokheum grumbled as he left.
However, contrary to Deokheum’s worries, a sharp light continued to sparkle in Seomun Hwan’s eyes.
Shall we go pick up some useful pawns, then?
As the sun began to set, in the back alleys of Pungsan.
A man dressed like a good-for-nothing loiterer appeared with languid steps on a street lined with red and blue lanterns hanging from the eaves of drinking houses.
His gait was slow, his eyes looked dazed, and a pouch stuffed full of silver coins hung openly at his waist.
To anyone who saw him, he looked exactly like a spoiled young master who knew nothing of the world.
Seomun Hwan stopped in front of a brothel with a red silk signboard.
Mongwolru.
It wasn’t particularly famous in Pungsan, but it was a mid-tier establishment with a steady stream of regular customers. It walked the perfect line between flashy and cheap.
The moment Seomun Hwan arrived, one of the women soliciting customers grabbed his arm and rushed toward him.
“Welcome, young lord! We have many beautiful girls in our house. Come inside and enjoy yourself.”
“Oh? In that case, I suppose I’ll trust you and step inside.”
“Hehe! Of course. Please come in.”
Seomun Hwan followed the woman into the brothel.
After passing through a modest garden where lanterns glowed softly and pushing aside red silk curtains, the fragrant scent of alcohol and laughter tickled his ears.
“Welcome, sir.”
The women approached him warmly.
“I have more money than I know what to do with. Bring me the prettiest girls you have.”
When Seomun Hwan shook the pouch full of coins, the women giggled and guided him to a room.
Alcohol was poured, fruits and snacks were set out.
When two women sat demurely beside him, Seomun Hwan swayed as he held a cup in one hand.
One cup, then another.
By the time he had emptied about three jars of liquor while wrapped in the women’s embraces…
Suddenly, Seomun Hwan dipped his pinky finger in alcohol and began tapping dots on the table at regular intervals.
Tap. Tap tap.
They looked like playful taps.
But the moment the women saw them, a meaningful light flashed in their eyes.
“Ohohoho! My lord, you’ve had far too much to drink. Shall we bring you some water to clear your throat?”
Seomun Hwan waved his arm lazily.
“Sounds good. On a night like tonight… tea brewed from clouded leaves would be perfect.”
“Hehe! You have such unique tastes, my lord.”
The woman smiled carefully. Her voice had become neat, lower, and more cautious than before.
“It’s rather noisy out here. Would you like to move to a quieter room? We’ll guide you.”
“Hmm? I suppose… hehe, yes, lead the way then.”
Seomun Hwan stood up, swaying like someone completely drunk.
He staggered along, supported by the two women.
As if strength had left his limbs, his body tilted and lurched.
They turned down corridors and climbed stairs inside the narrow brothel.
After going up and down several floors…
The drunken clamor gradually faded into the distance, replaced by a clean, quiet space.
The wooden floor was spotless, and the room was filled with the scent of ink.
It felt less like a brothel and more like a scholar’s study.
At the end of the long corridor stood a single door.
Suddenly, Seomun Hwan’s steps became straight and firm, as if his earlier staggering had never happened.
The women who had supported him bowed politely, as though it were only natural, then quietly retreated backward.
“So this is where it was.”
Left alone, Seomun Hwan slowly approached the room and opened the door.
Slide!
When the door opened, a quiet room lit by the soft glow of a lantern came into view.
A middle-aged woman sat in the center, with three neatly dressed women standing silently behind her.
The woman smiled faintly and spoke calmly.
“Welcome to our house, young lord.”
As her words filled the room, Seomun Hwan quietly took a seat.
The shell of the worthless loiterer had vanished. An aura that dominated the space slowly seeped out.
The air in the room grew strangely heavy.
“What you used earlier…”
The middle-aged woman slowly opened her mouth.
“…was a discarded form of secret speech. A method used a very long time ago.”
“Is that so?”
Seomun Hwan tilted the liquor bottle he had brought, speaking as if it didn’t matter.
“Even so, the fact that this is Haomun doesn’t change.”
Haomun.
The widest and deepest net created by the lowest people in the world.
Courtesans, tavern workers, pickpockets, peddlers, beggars, and more.
The nameless ones who were looked down upon, the loners who belonged nowhere.
They had gathered and created a single name for themselves.
Those who wove and refined information in the shadows of the martial world.
The woman nodded.
“Our Haomun has always treated anyone who knows this secret speech as an honored guest. However… the situation is different now.”
The middle-aged woman tapped the table with her fingertips.
“Because someone is targeting us. Quite persistently, at that.”
At her words, the four walls of the room opened silently, and figures dressed in black appeared like ghosts.
Four masked men.
Their steps made no sound, and no presence could be felt.
Seomun Hwan still showed no particular reaction.
He simply set his cup on the table and muttered.
“I see. It really is different from the past.”
At that instant…
Whoosh!
The three women twisted their bodies at once and threw the daggers they had been hiding.
It turned out the courtesans were also martial artists with considerable skill.
Along with the daggers, black shadows slid across the floor toward him.
Movement burst forth simultaneously from all four directions.
But at that exact moment.
“Not very Haomun-like. Attacking without even knowing your opponent.”
Seomun Hwan set down his cup and spoke quietly.
The moment the words left his mouth, the flow of energy inside the room began to twist.
Oooong—!
The room distorted.
A strange sense of disarray.
The currents warped, space stretched out long, then folded back on itself.
The masked men widened their eyes almost simultaneously.
They had clearly attacked Seomun Hwan, who was right in front of them, yet when they came to their senses, they were flailing on the floor.
They hurriedly tried to stand, but their minds felt distant as if they had been drugged, and strength refused to enter their legs.
The four masked men flopped about on the ground like fish out of water.
All the while, Seomun Hwan had remained seated without moving a single inch.
“Yaaawn! Is the Haomun of today only at this level? I’m a little… disappointed.”
Seomun Hwan lightly flicked his finger.
Snap!
The three women knelt, catching their breath, while the men in black finally broke into cold sweat and retreated.
The middle-aged woman’s hand trembled.
“…Who are you?”
Instead of answering, Seomun Hwan began speaking of something else.
“I needed to know why those bastards chose to target Pungsan of all places. A secret organization with skilled enough members to take such a risk.”
The ones who had attacked the Black Dragon Sect.
The middle-aged woman instinctively realized that the people Seomun Hwan spoke of were the unidentified organization targeting them.
“I wondered if the First Emperor’s treasure was buried here… but it was you. The headquarters of Haomun, whose exact location no one was supposed to know.”
Haomun was everywhere.
In nearly every city, every tavern, every street.
Since the abandoned existed everywhere.
But even Haomun needed a central point.
A headquarters to classify, organize, and command the information gathered from every region.
An organization with information-gathering power that rivaled the Beggars’ Sect.
If one could seize Haomun, it meant they could claim that entire power as their own.
What those attackers had been aiming for was precisely that intelligence network.
The Seomun Clan simply got caught up in it because we’re located in Pungsan. Unlucky, really.
Seomun Hwan walked forward slowly.
He passed by the middle-aged woman, who had drawn a dagger as if ready to fight to the death, without sparing her a glance.
Where his steps took him was another woman—one who, like the others, was trembling. Yet even beneath the heavy makeup, her beauty and grace stood out far more than the rest.
She possessed a charm that didn’t belong in a cheap brothel like this.
Seomun Hwan stopped before her and spoke.
“Isn’t that right? Leader of Haomun?”
At Seomun Hwan’s sudden words, the middle-aged woman who had been kneeling shot to her feet in shock.
“That’s…!”
At that moment, the woman before him calmly raised her hand as if to say it was fine.
The fear had completely vanished from the woman’s face as she looked straight at him.
After taking a slow, steady breath, she asked in a voice that did not tremble.
“How did you find out?”