But One Warning
Dawn over West Lake was quiet. As the mist lifted and the first rays of sunlight began to touch the streets, a man walked slowly along them. He wore a black long robe, and at his back hung a sword whose hilt was worked into the shape of a dragon.
He was Pung Sa-wi, master of the Black Wind Association—his true name, Jang Mu-eon.
Hatred smoldered in Jang Mu-eon’s eyes. The killing intent rolling off him made merchants flinch and give way.
He walked on toward his destination without hurry.
West Lake Number One Inn.
The moment the inn’s name rose in his mind, the pain of the years past came flooding back.
Seven years earlier, the memory of that day was still vivid.
“Master, the Martial Alliance is preparing a major offensive against the Demonic Cult.”
Jang Mu-eon had knelt before his master, Jang Mun-cheon, and made his report. Jang Mun-cheon was the Seventh Demon Head among the Ten Great Demon Heads who served under the Heavenly Demon, and he harbored a deep grudge against the Martial Alliance.
“Good, Mu-eon. Your efforts will bring victory to our cult.”
Jang Mun-cheon clapped his disciple’s shoulder and smiled. For all that he was a notorious demon of the age, he had cherished Jang Mu-eon like a true son. It was Jang Mun-cheon who had taken the boy in when he was an orphan begging on the streets and raised him.
“There are rumors that the Martial Alliance has developed a secret weapon to stand against the Heavenly Demon. I will find out what it is.”
Jang Mun-cheon’s face hardened.
“Be careful. You are my only disciple—my son. I do not want you harmed.”
Jang Mu-eon nodded. His face was full of deep loyalty and gratitude toward his master.
“Do not worry, Master. I will succeed without fail.”
Not long after, everything collapsed.
The Martial Alliance’s secret weapon was not a thing at all. It was a person.
A young martial artist called the Absolute Martial God.
He possessed martial arts like a divine dragon sent down from heaven. In the decisive battle between the Martial Alliance and the Demonic Cult, the Absolute Martial God was toppling the Ten Great Demon Heads one by one.
“Master!”
Jang Mu-eon reached the battlefield at the mountain summit. There he saw a sight he would never forget for the rest of his life. His master, Jang Mun-cheon, stood facing a young martial artist. A soft radiance, like clouds from the heavens, drifted around the young man.
A thunderous boom.
Sword winds faster than lightning crashed down on Jang Mun-cheon. He swung his treasured weapon, the Demon Blood Staff, in desperate defense, but the young man’s sword was simply too swift.
A shattering roar!
In that instant the mountain peak shook with a sound like thunder. Jang Mun-cheon’s body shot into the air and then fell. Blood sprayed like a fountain from the deep sword wound that had opened across his chest.
“Master!!!”
Jang Mu-eon tried to rush to him, but other comrades from the Demonic Cult seized him.
“No! We’ll all die! We can’t handle the Absolute Martial God!”
His desperate thrashing was finally restrained by the others. They told him they had to flee that place at once.
“Damn it!”
Cursing his own weakness, Jang Mu-eon left.
He pulled free of the memory and returned to the present. Before him now stood West Lake Number One Inn. The exterior was plainer than he had expected, yet the mere knowledge that someone connected to the Absolute Martial God was inside set his chest ablaze.
“I will bring this place down and lay the foundation for my master’s revenge.”
Jang Mu-eon opened the door and stepped inside. Even those waiting in line could say nothing under the weight of his killing intent. It was still before business had properly begun; there were almost no guests. Off to one side, Jo Seol was sweeping the floor.
“Welcome!”
Jo Seol greeted him with a bright smile. Jang Mu-eon gave a quiet nod and took a seat.
“Would you like me to prepare breakfast for you, sir?”
He looked at the picture board hanging on the opposite wall. Whoever had drawn it, one glance was enough to know exactly what dishes they served. The pictures were so vivid he almost imagined he could smell the food rising from them.
“Hmm.”
What startled him more, though, was the reaction in his dantian the moment he entered the inn. A warm energy washed over him and the internal energy that had been sleeping there stirred in answer.
A low thrum. Another.
Startled, Jang Mu-eon quickly stilled his energy and then looked at Jo Seol as if nothing had happened. She was ready to take his order.
“First time here, right? For breakfast I’d recommend the Morning Special Number One.”
“Then I’ll have the Morning Special Number One.”
Jo Seol spoke as if delighted.
“Excellent choice! I’ll bring it right out.”
She disappeared toward the kitchen. A short while later she returned carrying the Morning Special Number One. A rich, savory aroma rose from the dish.
“Here you are! Enjoy.”
Jang Mu-eon began to eat in silence. The moment he took the first bite, his eyes went wide. The flavor was better than he had expected. He had wandered the martial world for a long time and tasted the cooking of countless inns, yet dishes this good were rare.
“This is…”
For an instant he almost forgot why he had come to the inn today. Just as he was about to take another bite, Kang Yeon stepped out of the kitchen. He glanced at Jang Mu-eon, then came closer and asked,
“Is everything to your liking?”
Jang Mu-eon’s eyes widened again.
There was nothing special in the energy he felt from Kang Yeon, yet somewhere there was a familiar quality he could not place. He simply could not remember the man. Then he recalled what he had heard about Kang Yeon.
The young cook of West Lake Number One Inn—the one currently taking Hangzhou by storm.
“So you are… Kang Yeon, the cook of this inn?”
Kang Yeon nodded.
“That’s right. I’m Kang Yeon.”
From the rumors, Jang Mu-eon had expected a martial artist of immense power. Yet from the man in front of him he could sense nothing beyond an ordinary cook. He seemed a far cry from the overwhelming force his subordinate, who had fled the inn the day before, had described.
“The food is quite good.”
It was not why he had come, but that much at least was true. He cast a sidelong glance into the kitchen. There, Jo Hwan, who looked older, was cooking.
Is it him?
He studied the man carefully, yet found no trace of martial training. While Jang Mu-eon’s thoughts churned,
“You’re the master of the Black Wind Association, aren’t you?”
Jang Mu-eon set down his spoon. His gaze sharpened as he looked at Kang Yeon.
“So you’re the one who caught my man yesterday.”
Kang Yeon nodded.
“Yes, that’s right. You were watching the inn.”
At that moment guests began to trickle in one by one, and the inn gradually grew busier. Kang Yeon spoke to him again.
“I have something to discuss with you. The other guests will be uncomfortable, so let’s go to the backyard.”
For an instant Jang Mu-eon wanted to demand what he meant, but energy flowing from Kang Yeon wrapped around him. His face went pale under a force he could not resist. Yet Kang Yeon did nothing more; he simply led Jang Mu-eon out to the backyard.
They arrived. The backyard was quiet; no one else was near. Kang Yeon pointed to a chair that had been prepared to one side.
“Sit.”
Jang Mu-eon flinched at the sudden change in Kang Yeon’s speech. Kang Yeon said,
“Inside the inn I tend to use polite speech with the guests.”
Jang Mu-eon did not sit. He simply glared.
“What is your connection to the Absolute Martial God?”
Kang Yeon stroked his chin.
“The Absolute Martial God… It’s been a long time since I heard that name.”
Jang Mu-eon’s eyes narrowed.
“Answer me.”
Kang Yeon let out a sigh.
“This is why living an ordinary life is so hard. Sit down first. Shall we talk over a cup of tea?”
Jang Mu-eon hesitated a moment, then sat. Kang Yeon reached into empty air. Space split open and from within it came a teacup and a teapot. Jang Mu-eon’s eyes went round. It was truly wondrous technique.
With a soft sound, Kang Yeon dipped a finger into the teapot and water filled it in an instant. When he touched the pot again the water boiled at once. Calmly he prepared the tea leaves and poured the hot water, brewing the tea.
A gentle trickle.
Kang Yeon filled the cup with warm tea.
“Drink.”
Watching the entire sequence, astonishment spread across Jang Mu-eon’s face. The unbelievable ability Kang Yeon had just displayed was staggering. Clearly the Absolute Martial God had placed no ordinary person here to protect the inn. Kang Yeon took a sip of tea, then looked at Jang Mu-eon with eyes that held no emotion at all.
“So you mean to avenge your master?”
In that instant Jang Mu-eon shouted, his vengeance boiling over.
“The Absolute Martial God killed my master, Jang Mun-cheon. To repay that debt I will destroy everything connected to him.”
Kang Yeon took another sip and regarded him.
“And you think that’s possible?”
An overwhelming pressure rose from Kang Yeon. Jang Mu-eon froze under a force so strong it felt as if he could not breathe. Kang Yeon released the energy and spoke.
“Vengeance only destroys the one who carries it. Are you still set on walking that path?”
Jang Mu-eon cried out.
“Master was everything to me! Without him I would have died a beggar in the streets!”
Kang Yeon nodded.
“I understand how you feel about your master. But do you know what Jang Mun-cheon actually did to you?”
Jang Mu-eon’s face stiffened.
“What are you talking about?”
Kang Yeon drew a deep breath.
“The Seventh Demon Head, Jang Mun-cheon… He was the chief culprit of the Xi’an Massacre.”
Jang Mu-eon’s eyes went wide. Xi’an was the place of his birth. After losing his parents as a child he had lived as a beggar there for years.
“W-what nonsense is this?”
Kang Yeon continued calmly.
“Seventeen years ago the Demonic Cult attacked the Martial Alliance’s branch in Xi’an. At the time, Jang Mun-cheon slaughtered hundreds of innocent residents of Xi’an for the sake of victory. He claimed it was the Heavenly Demon’s order, but his hand was far too cruel.”
Jang Mu-eon shook his head, hands trembling.
“Lies! Master would never—”
The words died in his throat. When he thought about it, his master had been a Demon Head of the Demonic Cult—a merciless demon whose hands knew no pity. He had simply been endlessly warm and kind to Jang Mu-eon alone.
“You already know, don’t you? The man you saw every day and the man who acted as the Seventh Demon Head were not the same.”
Confusion twisted Jang Mu-eon’s features. He remembered his master’s warm smile and kindness, yet he had never been unaware of the countless bloodstains that stained his master’s hands each time he returned from a mission.
“Whatever Master did, the Absolute Martial God still killed him. As a disciple it is only right that I avenge him.”
Kang Yeon spoke firmly.
“Yes, you’ll tell yourself that whatever he did doesn’t matter because you yourself are a man of the Demonic Cult. But think of your parents, who died in that bloodbath.”
Jang Mu-eon looked as if something had struck him over the head.
“W-what do you mean by that?”
“Your parents died in the Xi’an Massacre. He knew that and still took you as a disciple only because your talent was excellent. He never felt any true affection for you. And blaming me is just as ridiculous. Destroying evil was my mission—and you already know that mission was never limited to the Demonic Cult alone.”
Jang Mu-eon fell silent and studied Kang Yeon carefully. The unnatural ability he had shown while making tea, the overwhelming pressure…
There was only one thing it could mean.
Jang Mu-eon’s eyes grew wider and wider.
“Wait… You… Could it be…”
Kang Yeon smiled.
“You’re starting to recognize me.”
Jang Mu-eon shot to his feet. Instinctively his hand moved toward his sword.
“The Absolute Martial God… You are…”
Kang Yeon remained perfectly calm.
“That’s right. I am the Absolute Martial God you have hated so deeply.”
Jang Mu-eon’s face went ashen. The ordinary-looking man sitting before him was the legendary master who had shaken the entire martial world. He started to draw his sword, then stopped, hand trembling.
A single gesture and he could be reduced to a handful of dust. Fighting through the extreme terror, he asked in a groan,
“Why… Why become a cook? You stand at the peak of the martial world…”
Kang Yeon took another sip of tea.
“The peak of the martial world… There’s nothing there. Only blood and tears, hatred and vengeance. You’ll never find peace in a place like that. How could a life like that ever be happy?”
Jang Mu-eon thought for a moment on those words before speaking again.
“You came back to an inn for a reason as small as that? The Absolute Martial God?”
Kang Yeon shook his head.
“I simply chose a different life. When the wars of the martial world ended, I finally understood what I truly wanted. It was this—serving delicious food to people and sharing small happinesses with them.”
Jang Mu-eon looked at him with confused eyes.
“If you truly are the Absolute Martial God, then my life is already in your hands…”
He met Kang Yeon’s gaze. There was the confidence and dignity of a legendary master, yet warmth and compassion as well.
Kang Yeon smiled.
“Don’t worry. These days I try as hard as I can not to stain my hands with blood. I’ll say it again—Jang Mun-cheon’s death was unavoidable. Back then everyone was simply fighting to stay alive…”
Jang Mu-eon sank back into the chair.
The world blurred. The hatred and thirst for vengeance he had carried for so many years felt as if they were crumbling.
“Then if I were to attack you right now…”
It was an absurd thing to say, yet the last scrap of his revenge still forced the words out. Kang Yeon shrugged.
“If you attack, I’ll defend myself. But I have no intention of killing you right this moment. I’ve seen enough of a martial artist’s blood. I don’t want to continue a meaningless cycle of violence any longer. But I will give you one warning. If you touch those around me instead of me—”
Overwhelming power rose from Kang Yeon’s body once more.
“—then you will learn why I am called the Absolute Martial God.”