The Rabbit-Weasel's Choice
Strictly speaking, it hadn't been all that long ago, so Han Yujin was able to retrace his steps with almost no hesitation and revisit the monkey monsters' nest.
The terrain was a small gorge hidden by thick undergrowth—something that would be easy to miss and walk right past unless one used the Spiritual Eye Technique.
Just in case, he cloaked himself in the Jade Skin Technique, gripped his Ohaeng Sword, and stepped inside. It took only a few minutes before the path opened up into a clearing.
Skree…! Skreek!
Kiiieek!
At the same time, he heard unfamiliar cries.
Small monkeys—clearly the offspring of the monkey monsters—were scampering about in panic. Some fled up the trees, others bolted blindly toward the surrounding gorge walls. A few simply stood frozen, not knowing what to do.
“Hmm.”
Killing the young ones didn’t exactly feel pleasant. Still, he had no intention of taking responsibility for them, and if left alone they would die anyway. It would be better if he finished it himself.
“Sorry about this, but your guardians attacked me first. I’ll make it as painless as possible.”
With a trace of genuine regret in his voice, Han Yujin immediately adjusted the restrictive formation on his Ohaeng Sword. A brilliant flash erupted as golden energy shot forward at high speed.
It took less than ten seconds for the terrified cries to fall completely silent. Han Yujin gathered the corpses using the Object Manipulation Technique and took out a small jade box.
They’re babies, and primates at that. I’d feel gross eating them raw, but at least I have this.
He retrieved one of the improved Bloodwood seeds from the jade box and cast the spell contained within the Bloodwood Essence and Yang Cultivation Technique, dropping the seed onto the pile of corpses with Object Manipulation.
A moment later.
The seed germinated rapidly, sending roots burrowing into the monkey offspring’s bodies and growing at an explosive rate. It looked like a time-lapse video playing in real time.
The Bloodwood was a deep crimson overall, yet it gave off a metallic red sheen that created a strangely striking impression. Its leaves were turquoise with bright edges, giving them a vivid, almost luxurious appearance.
When the plant had grown to about the height of a person’s chest, a single blood-red fruit formed upon it. Roughly the size of a walnut and perfectly spherical, it looked so flawless one might mistake it for a jade bead.
The fruit fell on its own before Han Yujin could do anything. The instant he caught it, the tree withered far faster than it had grown, crumbling into dust and sand.
“…Wow.”
Marveling at the profound mystery of the spell, he stirred the sandy remains with Object Manipulation and recovered the original seed completely intact.
Depending on which cultivation spell one used to sprout it, the plant could either bear fruit like this or produce another seed. Since he had no shortage of seeds at the moment, there was no need to replenish them.
He stored the seed back in the jade box and slipped it into his Low Storage Belt. After examining the fruit a little longer, he placed it inside the belt as well.
And finally.
He turned his gaze to the black tree at the center of the clearing—the one he had been quietly paying attention to from the very beginning.
Unlike the last time he saw it, the tree no longer looked gaunt and skeletal. While it was certainly unusual that it had no leaves at all, what truly drew the eye were the six fist-sized, scarlet fruits hanging from its branches.
As he moved closer to inspect them, Han Yujin soon realized these fruits were far more special than he had expected. They weren’t simply saturated with dense spiritual energy—they were emitting distinct formation waves.
In other words, they were mid-grade spiritual fruits, not low-grade.
There’s no way they’d be high-grade.
Starting at the high-grade level, even the Decision Sword Sect treated such items as precious treasures. No matter how rich in spiritual energy this place was, it simply wasn’t somewhere weak monkey monsters could have claimed something of that caliber.
Still, the fact that they managed to occupy mid-grade spiritual fruits is impressive on its own.
It would have been impossible in any other environment.
Fortunately, having attended the Thousand Origin Pill Refining Technique lectures, Han Yujin had already learned a simple spell that allowed him to harvest such spiritual fruits without damaging them.
After running a few quick tests with various refining formations and confirming there were no dangerous properties, he began the harvest.
A faint golden energy flowed gently from his hand. It wrapped around the scarlet fruit, isolating the spiritual energy and formation waves leaking from it, and the fruit dropped neatly into his palm.
Han Yujin caught it lightly and gave it a sniff. It looked somewhat like a dragon fruit, but its fragrance reminded him of a plum.
If it had been a peach, it would’ve been perfect for monkeys.
With that silly thought, he harvested the remaining fruits in the same manner and stored them in his Low Storage Belt. As long as he refreshed the spell every fifteen days or so, there was no risk of the fruits losing their medicinal potency.
I should stock up on more jade boxes like this one next time I harvest something.
That way he wouldn’t have to bother refreshing the spell periodically.
Besides, if he ever found spiritual materials in liquid form—like honey—rather than solid fruits, he would definitely need proper containers.
Just as he was thinking that.
The black tree, now stripped of all its fruit, began to wither and dry out at a visible rate. Han Yujin observed it closely and gave a small nod.
It didn’t seem to be dying, at least.
It would be strange for a tree to die just because its fruit was picked. He guessed this shriveled state was its original form, and the previous lush appearance had been swollen for the sake of the fruit’s survival.
He had no idea when it would bear fruit again, so he would need to come back and check at regular intervals.
With the harvest complete, it was time to watch over the monkey monsters’ corpses and wait for the rabbit-weasels.
Han Yujin left the clearing with a mixture of anticipation and slight tension.
On the way back, he tested the Earth Concealment Technique instead of the Wind Riding Technique. On Earth he had lacked both suitable locations and time, but here it was different. Naturally, his future training would include spell practice as well.
Han Yujin’s figure suddenly melted into the ground like it was dissolving, becoming a faint, hazy glow that raced across the earth’s surface at incredible speed. Then, at one point, his body popped back out and he came to an abrupt stop.
“Mmm……”
He had nearly slammed face-first into a tree trunk in a rather undignified way. Just like when he first practiced the Wind Riding Technique.
In short, control was difficult. Moreover, the spiritual power consumption was enormous. A few more uses and he would be completely exhausted. If it was this bad even in an advantageous environment like the Primordial Forest, it meant he might only last two or three uses on Earth.
I’ll need to reach the Dharma Soul stage before I can even practice this properly.
Still, it was an outstanding spell. Even the clumsy attempt he had just made was enough for him to fully feel its power.
Although the Earth Concealment Technique was originally a stealth art whose main strength wasn’t speed, it felt unbelievably fast. The sensation of seeping into the earth and moving through it was mysterious, like becoming a bodiless spirit.
No wonder it consumes so much spiritual energy.
It allowed one to merge with the ground itself—low consumption would have been illogical. Even if such a spell existed, it would surely have other drawbacks.
A short while later.
Upon arriving at the site where he had slaughtered the monkey monsters, Han Yujin briefly considered lying among the corpses like last time, but decided it wasn’t necessary. Instead, he hid himself on a nearby tree. Then he waited for dawn.
While waiting, he thought about the Tongmyeong Eosu-gyeol.
In truth, despite its many advantages, the Tongmyeong Eosu-gyeol was considered to have very significant drawbacks.
There were two main ones. First, the lifespan of the bound spiritual beast became synchronized with the master’s. Second, the beast could only grow up to one stage below the master’s own realm.
Why were these considered flaws?
Normally, when spiritualists took in spiritual beasts, they chose powerful monsters with extremely long lifespans.
Monsters that already lived for hundreds of years could, once properly tamed, be passed down to family or close associates after the original master’s death, serving generation after generation.
As time passed, they would naturally grow stronger and live even longer. But with the Tongmyeong Eosu-gyeol, none of those benefits could be expected.
Additionally, the restriction of only being able to grow to one stage below the master made it awkward to use in practice. If one couldn’t rely on it during truly important battles, no matter how many other advantages it had, the technique felt somewhat lacking.
But none of that matters to me.
He wasn’t taking in a spiritual beast expecting that kind of help anyway.
In fact, if he sought a stronger beast with that kind of expectation, raising it would be extremely difficult. Nothing in the world was ever purely beneficial.
The true strength of the Tongmyeong Eosu-gyeol lay in how easily it allowed resonance and control over the bound spiritual beast, including learning and casting spells.
It also made it incredibly simple to pass on several of the master’s own techniques to the beast through spiritual communication. For a rabbit-weasel whose natural lifespan wasn’t particularly long, synchronizing lifespans was actually an advantage.
Furthermore, instead of the limitation of only growing to one stage below the master, the beast required almost no resources to reach that limit.
In many ways, it wasn’t called Tongmyeong—Sharing Fate—for nothing. If one didn’t plan to use the beast for anything critical, there was no better taming art.
So just show up already.
As he was thinking that.
The sky began to brighten. And the rabbit-weasels he had been waiting for finally appeared.
They surveyed their surroundings with extreme caution, but they failed to detect Han Yujin, who was hidden in a tree using the Silver Concealment Technique at full power. Relieved, they began to nibble cautiously at the monkey monsters’ corpses.
Once two of them started eating, two more quickly joined.
However, Han Yujin’s expression was far from bright.
Why isn’t it coming…?
The one he had been waiting for was nowhere to be seen. Although they all looked similar, he had spent several months with it. Even without using the Spiritual Eye Technique, he was confident he could tell them apart.
Did the butterfly effect show up even here?
Why wasn’t it appearing? What could the reason be?
While he sat there in a daze, his mind tangled with complicated thoughts.
“Ah.”
He let out a sound without realizing it.
The moment it appeared, he knew. It was the one.
The heavy feeling that had weighed on his heart vanished in an instant, replaced by a surge of excitement—only for a sudden thought to weigh it down again.
Without making a sound, he leaped down from the tree. He released the Silver Concealment Technique at a suitable distance and waited quietly.
Soon, several rabbit-weasels that had been busy eating noticed him belatedly. They flinched but did not immediately run away.
Among those cautiously observing him was the very one he had been watching.
I should have just lain there among the corpses like before.
Regretting his choice a little too late, Han Yujin stood there unsure what to do. Should he pull it over with Object Manipulation right away, or should he lure it closer like last time?
Was I always this stupid?
Just as he was about to spiral into confusion over something so trivial.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. He took out the spiritual liquid wine bottle and opened the stopper, letting a few drops fall to the ground.
A faint but distinct fragrance of spiritual liquid wine spread through the air. Any beast with a developed sense of smell would detect it clearly.
But the moment he did it, he wondered if this was really a good idea.
There’s no way it’ll be lured in just because I suddenly—
What if some random one got curious and approached first? Would he have to chase it away? What kind of ridiculous thing was he doing just to tame a single animal?
As he drowned in these strangely complicated emotions and even began to feel self-loathing.
The one he had been watching was the first to cautiously creep closer. Han Yujin’s mood instantly brightened again.
“That’s it!”
The exclamation he let out reflexively made several rabbit-weasels flinch. Even the one showing curiosity froze, and Han Yujin stiffened along with it.
“Ugh, fuck…”
He finally couldn’t stand his own pathetic behavior any longer.
“Just come here, you little shit.”
Using Object Manipulation, he instantly bound the creature and set the struggling, startled beast down right in front of him. Then he dropped another ten or so drops of spiritual liquid wine.
“Eat it or don’t. It’s up to you. If you eat it, we’ll be together for life. If you run away without eating, that’s the end of it.”
Even though he said that, he figured he should at least give off the impression that he wouldn’t harm it. So Han Yujin crouched down in front of the creature and gently stroked its head.
Watching it twitch its nose and roll its black eyes around, he decided that was probably enough and completely released the Object Manipulation.
For a moment.
Even after feeling the restraining force disappear, the rabbit-weasel did not run. It stayed still, as if it couldn’t understand the situation—or perhaps because it was too afraid to move recklessly.
“You’re the one who almost got eaten by that lizard bastard last time. You’re quick when you don’t need to be and slow when you do, you idiot.”
Muttering to himself, Han Yujin used Object Manipulation to pull over a nearby leaf and poured the spiritual liquid wine onto it, even making a proper little bowl.
“If you still won’t eat after this, then seriously…”
Right at that moment.
Apparently thinking Han Yujin’s attention was elsewhere, the rabbit-weasel suddenly bolted.
Han Yujin watched silently as it disappeared completely beyond the undergrowth, then closed his eyes.
“Fucking hell…”
It seemed he had gone about it the wrong way.
He should have acted exactly like last time. How could one possibly befriend a wary wild animal like this?
But.
It’s not that I’m just stupid.
Han Yujin wasn’t unaware of that fact.
I just… wanted to feel for myself that it really was the same one.
Since it had been so obsessively fond of spiritual liquid wine, he thought maybe this approach would work. At the very least, he had believed that as long as it didn’t run away, things would be fine.
From a philosophical standpoint, there was much debate about whether an already-dead pet, even if one went back in time and met an identical one, could truly be considered the same being.
Many people ultimately concluded that it was a different existence. Because it could not share the same memories, it could not regain the unique psychological and emotional continuity of that time.
But Han Yujin thought a little differently.
What if it wasn’t a pet, but a mortal enemy—one you could not possibly live under the same sky with?
If you went back to the past and found that enemy before they had committed their crimes, could you really dismiss them as a different person and let them go? Especially when, at this point in time, there was no connection yet, and there was clearly a possibility that a slight change in the future might prevent them from ever becoming your enemy?
I probably couldn’t do that.
That was why he had tried to apply the same logic to the rabbit-weasel.
If he could not consider a past version of an enemy who had not yet wronged him as a different being, then the same standard should apply to the rabbit-weasel.
Even if the psychological and emotional continuity would be somewhat different because they could not share the same memories, it was still the same body and soul, wasn’t it?
That’s what I thought, but…
It seemed reason and emotion were inevitably different sometimes.
Watching it fail to recognize the spiritual liquid wine it had once loved so much and bolt away in panic had, surprisingly, felt almost like being stabbed.
What the hell is that damn animal to me anyway?
Ironically, the emotion he felt now was even more painful than when it had died.
So he simply sat there motionless for a long time, doing nothing.
They say the world doesn’t go as one wishes.
He considered going back and perfectly repeating his actions from before, but he knew that wouldn’t erase the feelings he had now.
Still… I’m really glad I at least got revenge for it back then.
As he let out a sigh with that thought.
“……”
When he opened his eyes, he saw the creature—having somehow crept back without him noticing—peeking at him from within the undergrowth.
This little shit really…
Han Yujin felt a tiny bit of joy mixed with irritation.
There was a limit to toying with someone’s emotions. He had been fully immersed in his feelings, slowly coming to terms with it and trying to wrap things up—only for it to show up again at the very last moment?
“Are you messing with me?”
Han Yujin growled on purpose. The rabbit-weasel flinched. Yet it still didn’t run. It simply twitched its nose and watched him carefully.
It was a very familiar sight. Before they had become close, it had always observed him like that.
The absurdity of it made him laugh despite himself.
After that, Han Yujin didn’t react at all. He simply sat there quietly.
They continued their staring contest as time passed.
By the time the dim light of dawn had fully given way to clear morning.
The rabbit-weasel finally crept forward and tried to lick the spiritual liquid wine in the leaf bowl Han Yujin had roughly made. But right before its tongue touched the liquid, it suddenly darted back as if afraid a trap might activate. The sight was so ridiculous that Han Yujin almost laughed.
“Putting on a whole show, huh?”
It flinched again at his voice but still didn’t run. It was clearly scared, yet it seemed unable to give up the scent of the spiritual liquid wine.
Just like that time when it had dashed out with that gluttonous look on its face.
“Heh…”
Another helpless laugh escaped him. In the meantime, the rabbit-weasel finally gave the wine a proper lick and quickly retreated.
After that, even its twitching nose stopped. It licked its lips and looked back and forth between Han Yujin and the leaf bowl.
“I told you earlier. If you eat it, we’ll be together for life.”
Han Yujin spoke calmly as he added more spiritual liquid wine to the leaf bowl. The rabbit-weasel began twitching its nose again and couldn’t tear its eyes away from the liquid.
“Your name is Mu-yong. Because you’re useless.”
It didn’t sound embarrassing when he said it out loud, and he liked it quite a lot.
Of course, it didn’t only mean “useless.” In truth, it also carried the meaning that even if you were useless, it didn’t matter, and that you should at least possess the minimum amount of martial courage so you wouldn’t die as futilely as last time.
Because it was embarrassing, he had no intention of saying that part out loud right now.