Chapter 139
Chapter 139
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 139
Chapter Title: Demonic Cult
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The poison of the camp robber bird had a peculiar characteristic.
Until now, he'd thought the bird's venom was just one type, but in reality, it seemed to be a mixture of several different poisons.
First, a scattering poison spread out to disrupt internal energy flow, followed by toxins that damaged the body and stole lives. Poisons that hardened the lungs and organs, poisons that clotted blood when mixed with it, and so on. Dang Mujin clicked his tongue.
'No wonder things dragged on—I was trying to analyze multiple poisons as if they were one.'
Not even a quarter of an hour had passed since the camp robber bird perched on the prison roof before a reaction came from inside. Two guards emerged with grave expressions.
'Where's the third one?'
Several possibilities came to mind. Maybe there were three during the day but only two at night, or perhaps one had slipped out to slack off. All were plausible.
The two guards who stepped out scanned their surroundings, then spotted the camp robber bird on the roof. Their faces drained of color.
"You bastard, why's that camp robber here?"
"No idea. But the poison's weaker than I thought. Chase it off now."
"Yeah! Hurry and shoo it away!"
"...You want me to do it?"
"You're better at martial arts than me. My limbs are already stiffening up."
One guard whined and shoved the task onto the other, clearly reluctant to approach the bird.
The two bickered for a moment before one finally climbed onto the roof.
"Why's the nest here? That sack looks like bait. Who the hell left it?"
"Get rid of it all!"
The guard on the roof grew even more cautious.
The poison gas had thickened as he neared the bird, and some of the airborne toxins were starting to harm his body.
Of course, Dang Mujin had no intention of just watching until the guard cleared the nest.
A fist-sized stone was already clutched in his right hand.
'Have a taste.'
Up until now, Dang Mujin had used the principles of the Projection Art to hurl daggers or needles.
But the bulk of the Projection Art focused not on dagger throwing, but on stone throwing. When fleeing, what was easier to find than stones?
Dang Mujin assumed a slanted stance.
'Throwing relies not on shoulder strength, but the power of the whole body.'
He stepped forward with his left foot, twisting his entire body dynamically as he whipped his arm forward. His rear shoulder pulled ahead, and his whip-like arm snapped out. The stone sliced through the air at tremendous speed.
"!"
The guard on the prison roof sensed the incoming stone with sharp instinct and reflexively raised his right hand.
But his body, unadapted to the impaired internal energy flow, betrayed him. His raised arm felt unnaturally heavy, his movements sluggish.
"Damn, you son of—"
Just before the guard's arm could shield his head, the stone struck his temple.
Thwack!
An unnatural sound echoed from the man's skull, and the guard on the roof collapsed.
The stone had hit his temple, yet blood poured from his nose.
'Instant death.'
He probably never imagined dying from a mere stone while practicing martial arts.
The other guard startled at the sight and looked toward where the stone had come from.
Dang Mujin stood there, staring down the surviving guard with a cocky tilt. The guard's eyes widened.
"You're that guy from before!"
"Guy? You really don't know your place. You should be groveling for your life."
The guard had higher raw skill, but Dang Mujin moved lighter.
Tension etched the guard's face. Dang Mujin found the sight oddly satisfying.
'A master cowering at the sight of me. Nice.'
The guard moved to a spot with thinner poison gas and drew his sword from his belt. Though afflicted by the scattering poison, he seemed capable of swinging it.
"Come on! I'll show you the difference in our levels."
Of course, Dang Mujin had no plans to close in.
There was a cleaner, easier way to fight—no need to clash swords riskily.
Three needles were pinched between the fingers of Dang Mujin's left hand.
The guard couldn't see them, though. It was too dark, and the distance too great.
Gripping his sword hilt with both hands, the guard thought.
'Is that punk immune to the poison? Or does he have a way to block it? No matter. The skill gap's wide enough—I can take him.'
He'd retreat just enough to lure him in, then strike a opening for a quick finish.
The moment he finished thinking, a sharp prick stung the back of his neck. His gaze snapped behind him.
'An enemy behind me too?'
But there was no one.
'...A bug?'
The guard rubbed his nape. Something long and thin snagged his fingers.
'A needle?'
In that instant, he felt the poison spreading from the back of his neck. This wasn't some minor insect venom.
Worse, it was multiple types.
'One clots blood. One paralyzes muscles. What's the third?'
The poison followed the governing vessel to the nape's Gate of the Brain, Wind Mansion, and Brain Hollow acupoints. All fatal points. What head acupoint wasn't?
He tried circulating internal energy to expel it, but the camp robber's airborne poison interfered.
Ungathered energy clumped like sticky mucus, refusing to move. Gathered energy scattered like mist.
'Not good.'
Drawing on his battle experience, the guard made the best call.
Forget leisurely expelling the poison—kill the opponent fast. Better the poison drive him mad in the brain than a sword to the throat. With luck, he might even get treatment.
Raising his sword, he scanned for the approaching foe. But the opponent stood still, unmoving.
The guard bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"Come at me!"
Dang Mujin's reply was nonchalant.
"Why would I?"
"A true warrior wouldn't run without pride."
"Run?"
Dang Mujin laughed.
"Running's for losers. And you're the one who's lost."
"No way! The fight hasn't even started."
"Nah. It's over. You can't even stand properly."
Only then did the guard notice his vision tilting oddly.
A mild drunken dizziness swelled into crashing waves. He couldn't stand straight even trying.
He glared at Dang Mujin. It was all he could do.
He couldn't advance, retreat, or circulate energy to expel the poison. No—even if he could now, it was too late.
Strength fled his legs. Unthinkingly, he dropped to his knees, upper body pitching forward until his forehead hit the ground. He looked like a criminal baring his neck before an executioner.
Dang Mujin drew his sword from his belt and approached slowly.
"Not the ending you wanted, huh. But what can you do."
He thrust into the guard's back, piercing the heart. No personal grudge meant no need for prolonged suffering.
Dang Mujin rummaged through the dead guard's clothes. One of the two must have the prison keys.
But surprisingly, no keyring on either.
'Huh...?'
A second search yielded the same. Dang Mujin's heart sank.
The prison held not civilians, but martial artists, so its bars were thumb-thick iron pillars.
Dang Mujin could snap an enemy's sword with his Soul-Separating Sword. But these bars? No confidence.
Even cutting one bar wasn't enough. He'd need to sever top and bottom for a gap, and at least two bars for a person-sized hole.
Three-Eyed Buddha's bulk would require three.
'...I kill all the guards and can't free him because no keys? No way.'
Not impossible. Keys might be hidden somewhere prisoners couldn't reach.
But Dang Mujin doubted it. Prisons like this surely held vacuum palm experts.
Leaving keys inside was practically inviting escape via remote grasping.
'Still, it's the only shot.'
As he rushed toward the prison, its door slid open smoothly.
'The third guard was inside?'
Dang Mujin reflexively backed away, needles in left hand, sword in right.
He poised to hurl needles at the figure—then recognized familiar faces. Namgoong Myung and Hong Geolgae.
'...?'
Namgoong Myung even held something in his right hand. The keyring.
'When the hell did he snag that?'
Namgoong Myung startled at Dang Mujin but quickly shouted confidently.
"Whoa! Dang Mujin? Don't worry—we're here to save you!"
"Idiot. I'm here to save you."
"Still clueless about your place. Just say thanks when you're embarrassed."
Hong Geolgae nodded beside him. Dang Mujin stared, chuckling in disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
"Expected that reaction. Infiltrating the Demonic Cult by getting caught on purpose? No normal person thinks of that."
Dang Mujin didn't buy Namgoong Myung's nonsense. Days ago, visiting the prison, he'd overheard them bickering.
Likely captured without a fight, then swiped the guards' keys amid their panic over the bird.
Anyway, perfect. Dang Mujin snatched the keyring from Namgoong Myung.
"Hey, why take the keys?"
"Someone to free."
"Sheesh, such a hassle. Who?"
"Three-Eyed Buddha."
Namgoong Myung and Hong Geolgae narrowed their eyes at him.
"...Joking, right?"
"Does it sound like it? Dead serious."
"All that poison fiddling finally drove you mad?"
"Escaping the Demonic Cult needs Three-Eyed Buddha's help. Know how many Absolute Peak experts they have?"
Namgoong Myung hesitated at "Absolute Peak," but didn't back down.
"You think he'll listen just 'cause you ask? Think it'll end with one left arm this time? Your neck's getting snapped."
"No. We got friendly during my stay. Plus, he's at odds with the Cult Leader's faction—needs to escape too. He'll help."
Conviction shone in Dang Mujin's eyes.
Normally, Namgoong Myung and Hong Geolgae would've relented. 'Fine, if you're that sure, we'll trust you once.'
But now, they hesitated oddly.
As if Three-Eyed Buddha was an ally they still shouldn't seek aid from.
"What? Don't want Demonic Cult muscle? Or grudge over your left arm? I get it, but..."
"No, not that. I like the new arm fine. But it's complicated."
"Sorry, no time for chit-chat. Settle debts later—survive and escape first."
Dang Mujin dashed into the prison.
As before, Three-Eyed Buddha was deepest inside, more securely confined than others.
Most prisoners were just locked in barehanded, no extra restraints.
But Three-Eyed Buddha's wrists and ankles were shackled with thick manacles and fetters, bolted to the wall.
Struggling to break free had flayed skin from his wrists and ankles, blood dripping.
Worse, he'd suffered vile humiliation. Unlike other prisoners maintaining some dignity despite dirt, Three-Eyed Buddha's body was caked in sticky food scraps, reeking.
'Brutal. No thought to consequences, huh.'
Dang Mujin jammed keys into the bars. A small metallic click sounded.
Three-Eyed Buddha's closed eyes opened. The bird's poison limited his energy use, but his gaze burned fierce.
"Dang Mujin. How'd you get here?"
"To rescue you! Let's escape the Demonic Cult together."
"Hmm..."
Three-Eyed Buddha seemed lukewarm. Dang Mujin shouted at him.
"Stay here, and it's betrayal or death! No pointless agonizing—get ready to go!"
Dang Mujin unlocked the fetters. But Three-Eyed Buddha hesitated, not rising.
"I have no place in the world. I turned my back on it for the Demonic Cult—now betray that too? Where to? Wander aimlessly, no purpose, just clinging to life?"
"The world's vast. Survive first, and you'll find a place. Desires too."
Three-Eyed Buddha closed his eyes, pondering. Despite his immense strength and iron body, his mind was ordinary—endlessly悩悩, tormented like any man.
Once Dang Mujin freed the manacles, he rose.
"Fine. Don't know where I'll stay, but I have something I want to do."
"Good choice!"
As Dang Mujin turned to leave, a prisoner in the next cell yelled.
"Escaping the Demonic Cult? Save me too! I'll be useful!"
That sparked it—prisoners clamored for help.
"Me too!"
"Save me! I don't wanna die pickled in weird poison!"
"I'll give my life—just get me out!"
Dang Mujin glanced at Three-Eyed Buddha, who nodded.
"They're like me. Not locked for heinous crimes, but defying the Cult Leader. Your call, though."
All eyes turned to Dang Mujin.
As always, the decision fell to him.
No long deliberation. More anti-Leader allies couldn't hurt.
'Worst case, use them to draw eyes—increases escape odds.'
Dang Mujin swiftly unlocked prisoners throughout the prison.
Demonic Cultists coughed, burdened by the descending poison gas, fleeing the prison.
Dang Mujin and Three-Eyed Buddha exited last. A strange stench wafted from food scraps on his clothes and skin.
'...Good thing it's not summer.'
Dang Mujin scanned around. Hong Geolgae and Namgoong Myung kept apart from others, watching from afar.
Clear anxiety etched their faces—far from their earlier bravado.
'What's with them?'
Then Three-Eyed Buddha spoke.
"Wherever I end up, I can do what I want right away."
"Huh?"
Three-Eyed Buddha strode toward Hong Geolgae and Namgoong Myung. They trembled, unable to flee.
He grabbed their shoulders with huge hands. Fury blazed in his eyes.
"What'd you call me earlier? Scheming fools tossed aside like dogs? Eat this instead of rice?"
...
So the guards hadn't dumped the scraps on Three-Eyed Buddha.
Dang Mujin felt a pounding headache.