Chapter 177

Why hadn’t I known?

Perhaps it was the faith I had placed in the Disciple I’d raised as my own flesh and blood. Perhaps it was indifference. But the scent of blood had unmistakably clung to Jangcheon as he staggered up the mountain that day.

“Where have you been?”

“Ah, Master.”

His eyes were flushed with drink—and something else.

“I went down to the village for a little while. I’ve been feeling restless lately, so I had a drink.”

“Drinking. Was that all?”

“It’s a little embarrassing to say. Hahaha! I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

The pungent musk courtesans used stung Jeok Cheongang’s nose. But it was merely a veil meant to conceal the truth.

Beneath it, he could smell the faint scent of blood. The smell of death. The smell of a killer—a scent he had forgotten since the Great Faction War.

“You went to a pleasure house…?”

“As expected, I can’t fool you, Master. Yes. This useless Disciple was troubled, so I sought the company of women.”

The Disciple he had not seen in so long had become a completely different person.

The taciturn, unsmiling boy was gone. In his place stood a smooth-talking killer who concealed his murders without a trace of concern.

“But what brings you out at this late hour? Have you made any progress in your closed-door cultivation?”

“…It had been so long since I’d seen your face. I was waiting for you.”

He had apparently murdered dozens of innocent commoners in horrific ways.

His Disciple had committed a crime that made heaven and earth furious. The right thing to do would have been to sever his Sinews and Meridians and cripple his dantian at once. That was what a Master should do.

But—

“I see. I’m glad to see you too, Master.”

At Jangcheon’s faint smile, Jeok Cheongang found himself unable to speak. He felt neither anger nor betrayal. Something simply welled up from deep inside him, choking off his words.

In the end, there was only one thing he could say.

“It’s late. Go get some rest.”

Jin Taekyung listened to Jeok Cheongang’s story with disbelief written across his face.

“Wait. That’s it?”

“I wanted to believe in that child.”

“You already knew. You knew Jopil—or rather, Jangcheon—was lying.”

“I knew.”

“And you still let the bastard go?”

“Yes. Even so.”

The old man continued in a weary voice.

“Do you have any blood relatives?”

“Yes.”

“I have none. As far back as I can remember, I was alone. He was the same.”

Jeok Cheongang looked down at his hands. Age spots and wrinkles covered them, each one bearing the imprint of the years.

“My Master was a strict man. His training was harsh and painful, but as a child, I even liked that. I was happy simply knowing that someone cared about me and was there beside me. My Master was the only person I could rely on.”

But his time with his Master had been brief. Jeok Cheongang was left alone once more, and over the years, his loneliness slowly grew numb.

Until he met a child in the marketplace, fighting desperately to protect a single dumpling.

“I was the only person that child could rely on. Even if all under heaven pointed fingers at him, I had to believe in him.”

At some point, Jangcheon had become more than a Disciple to Jeok Cheongang.

He was his only son and his grandson. They shared no blood, but Jeok Cheongang loved him more deeply than family.

“But what that child did was too horrible. I had to make him stop. One way or another.”

Before that, however, he wanted to see his Disciple’s atrocities with his own eyes.

The fact that the Azure Sky Sword King had come in person meant that all the circumstantial and physical evidence was already in hand. But that alone was not enough.

“So I began following him in secret.”

From that day on, Jeok Cheongang followed his Disciple. Evading Jangcheon’s notice was easy, since he had yet to break through to the Peak realm.

Once, twice, ten times…

With each pursuit, the despair Jeok Cheongang had initially felt began to fade.

Like any other wastrel, Jangcheon merely visited pleasure houses, drank, and embraced women. When he returned to his hut flushed with liquor, he became a martial artist once more and diligently resumed his training.

Nothing seemed amiss.

“Then a thought occurred to me. Perhaps there had been some mistake. Perhaps the Nangong Family and the Azure Sky Sword King had misjudged him.”

Jin Taekyung stared at him incredulously.

“I think you’re the one who misjudged him, Sir Jeok.”

Jeok Cheongang laughed hollowly.

“Yes. I did. Like a fool, I desperately turned away from the truth.”

“So did you eventually see it for yourself?”

“…”

Jeok Cheongang silently raised the bottle and drank straight from it.

The ceiling looked blurry, not because the liquor was strong, but because the memory of that day had returned with perfect clarity.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

In a back alley of the red-light district, beneath the heavy darkness of night, muffled groans mingled with spurts of blood.

The back of the masked man stabbing and prodding someone’s limbs with a sharp dagger was more familiar than anything—and more foreign than ever.

“…Jangcheon.”

At the quiet call, the hand gripping the dagger abruptly froze. The masked man slowly turned, and his eyes met Jeok Cheongang’s.

At the sight of his Master after so long, the Disciple’s eyes curved into crescents.

“Ah, Master.”

“What… What are you doing?”

“What do you mean? Exactly what you see.”

Jangcheon grinned and drove the dagger down.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The middle-aged man, his limbs bound, writhed in agony.

“Stop at once!”

“Why should I?”

“…W-What did you say?”

“It’s been a long time since I came down here, and all kinds of people are running wild. Wandering martial artists swaggering around because they know a few Third Rate martial arts, merchants with fat bulging from their bodies, and women whose only property they can sell is their own bodies. What a madhouse.”

Jangcheon flashed a white smile.

“This man is just one of them. What difference does it make if I kill one such person? He’s nothing more than a two-legged beast with no reason to live.”

Everything felt like a dream to Jeok Cheongang. The hope he had clung to while watching his Disciple for the past four months vanished like a bursting bubble.

“Why… Why would you do this?”

“Because I’m strong.”

Jangcheon continued, his voice brimming with excitement.

“Might makes right. Didn’t you teach me that, Master? Murim—no, the entire world—is like that. The weak die at the hands of the strong.”

“You killed innocent people for no better reason than that?”

“Innocent? How could you possibly know they were innocent, Master?”

“Then what terrible crimes did the people you killed commit?”

Jeok Cheongang wanted them to have deserved death.

He wanted them to have been corrupt merchants who sucked the lifeblood from others, or vicious ruffians who murdered as casually as they ate—not simple commoners who knew nothing of the world and spent their lives toiling like oxen.

But…

“How should I know?”

“…!”

“Who in this world lives without sin? They were simply unlucky. The same goes for this man who happened to catch my eye.”

The world seemed to recede before Jeok Cheongang’s eyes.

The Disciple he loved like his own flesh and blood had already crossed a river from which there was no return.

Those who reached the far bank never came back. They lived out the rest of their days as blood-soaked killing fiends.

“Jangcheon.”

“Yes, Master.”

The face of the scrawny child he had met in the marketplace more than a decade ago overlapped with that of the blood-drenched young man before him.

“What in the world made you like this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You… You weren’t this kind of child. The weak die at the hands of the strong? Have you forgotten the person you once were, struggling desperately just to survive?”

“I haven’t forgotten. That’s why I am who I am now.”

“No. You were kind and diligent…”

“Master.”

Jangcheon gently cut him off.

It was the first time the Disciple had ever interrupted or contradicted his Master. But now, even open mockery lingered at the corners of Jangcheon’s mouth.

“I remember the day I first met you as clearly as if it were yesterday. I had gone hungry for days and was wandering the marketplace when I found a dirt-covered dumpling. Even as boys no better off than I was trampled me, I kept forcing it into my mouth.”

“That’s right. You did it to survive. Why can’t you remember that you were once weak too?”

Jangcheon’s lips twisted.

“Wangpal. Hong Sochil. So U-pyeong.”

“…?”

“Three of the fifteen who tried to take my dumpling. Unfortunately, the others were already dead.”

Three names fell from his Disciple’s lips.

Their meaning was unmistakable. Those three no longer belonged to this world. And until the moment they breathed their last, they must have suffered unimaginable pain.

“They didn’t remember me, but I never forgot them for a single day. More than ten years ago, as I chewed that dirt-covered dumpling, I realized something. So this is the world. The weak are trampled, and the strong do the trampling. Then I must become strong. I must enjoy the rights of the strong.”

As Jangcheon recited the vow he had made that day in a chilling voice, Jeok Cheongang finally understood.

“You… You…”

“Yes. I never changed. Not once, from the day I first met you until now.”

His white teeth gleamed in the darkness. Jangcheon giggled.

“It was thrilling. At first, they begged me to spare them. Later, they screamed at me to kill them. But once they finally fell silent, I felt empty inside. Drinking myself senseless at a pleasure house and embracing a woman couldn’t make the feeling go away.”

He could only have been a born Slaughter Saint.

Only murder could fill that emptiness. Jangcheon would likely go on killing until the moment he drew his final breath.

“The timing was perfect. You happened to be so absorbed in your training that you neglected me, which allowed me to run wild to my heart’s content.”

Jeok Cheongang wanted to cover his ears. He wanted to cover his ears, close his eyes, and erase the memory of that day, which had been branded into his mind.

His body trembled with rage and betrayal toward the Disciple he had raised as his own kin.

But what tormented him most was the affection he still felt for that Disciple.

“Of course, I wasn’t entirely at ease either. Was it four months ago? I came back after taking care of some business and found you waiting for me. The moment I saw you acting unlike yourself, I knew I’d been found out.”

“Stop.”

“You trusted me far too completely to start following me for no reason, so someone must have tipped you off… Ah, it must have been the Nangong Family.”

“I said shut up!”

A tremendous wave of qi tore through the alley.

Confronted with a fury he had never before seen from his Master, Jangcheon’s eyes widened.

“Master?”

“You bastard! How dare you call me Master with that mouth? Do you still not understand what you’ve done?”

“Why are you acting like this? Surely you don’t intend to cast aside your only Disciple over something so trivial?”

“Trivial? Did you call this trivial?”

“Master, you’re like a father to me. I believed that even if everyone under heaven condemned my faults, you would understand. Because you’re my father.”

Father.

The word Jeok Cheongang had wanted so desperately to hear.

He gritted his teeth.

“You’re wrong.”

“Wrong?”

Jangcheon smiled faintly.

“Then why don’t you strike me dead right now? You had countless chances, both now and throughout the past four months.”

“That’s—”

“Am I wrong?”

Jeok Cheongang could not answer. Everything Jangcheon had said was true. He had deliberately looked away from the truth and tried to justify doing so.

Because no matter what it took, he had wanted to believe in his Disciple.

A long time passed before he finally spoke.

“I’ll sever your Sinews and Meridians.”

“My Sinews and Meridians. And then?”

“I’ll cripple your dantian. You’ll spend the rest of your life repenting for your crimes.”

“Facing a wall in meditation until the day I die. The very thought is horrifying.”

Despite his words, Jangcheon’s face was full of laughter.

“But did our sect’s rules change while this useless Disciple wasn’t looking? As I understand it, a case like this calls for immediate execution, no questions asked.”

“…This is my final act of mercy. Put that man down and step away at once.”

Jangcheon blinked as if he had forgotten something important.

The middle-aged man in his arms, his entire body drenched in blood, was still drawing ragged breaths.

“Ah, right. I’d forgotten about him.”

Slash.

Blood erupted in a fountain.

Jeok Cheongang stared at it with trembling eyes.

Jangcheon’s hand had moved without the slightest hesitation. The man’s throat had been cut. His body convulsed, then fell still.

“Is this your answer?”

“It’s already too late. Even if I saved him, he would spend the rest of his life crippled. Wouldn’t it be better to give him a clean death?”

“You… You’re no longer the child I knew.”

“I am exactly the child you knew, Master. You simply misunderstood me from the very beginning.”

“Enough. Your evil deeds end today.”

“Do you truly intend to cripple me and make me spend the rest of my life facing a wall?”

A faint fear showed on his Disciple’s face.

Jeok Cheongang clenched his fist until blood seeped from his palm. One move. A single move was all it would take to erase Jangcheon from this world.

But he knew he could not bring himself to do it.

Severing his Disciple’s Sinews and Meridians, crippling his martial arts, and imprisoning him was the best he could do.

“Do you regret it?”

“Regret?”

“Yes. Regret.”

It would change nothing, but Jeok Cheongang wanted to hear the answer from Jangcheon’s own lips.

Then, in the next instant, every trace of fear vanished from Jangcheon’s face.

“I was relieved.”

“What?”

“I couldn’t see or hear you, but I knew you had been watching me for the past four months. Why else do you think I did this right in front of you?”

Jangcheon’s face was reflected in Jeok Cheongang’s vacant eyes. He continued with perfect composure.

“You can’t kill me, Master. It wouldn’t matter if I killed not dozens but hundreds. Before I left, I wanted to confirm that one last time.”

“Before you leave? What do you mean?”

“There may be fathers who blame their children for their faults, but there is no father anywhere in this world who kills his own child with his own hands.”

“…!”

“Thank you, Master. Thank you for raising me as your child rather than merely your Disciple. Thank you for trying to save a child like me until the very end. Thanks to you, my one path to survival has opened.”

Jeok Cheongang stood frozen as if his breath had stopped. Before him, Jangcheon gave a deep bow filled with genuine sincerity.

When he raised his head again, a small white porcelain vial was held between his lips.

“It’s Bone-Melting Powder.”

Bone-Melting Powder was a deadly poison that dissolved flesh and bone.

Even a tiny amount would be fatal if the vial shattered inside his mouth. Not even a celestial immortal could save him.

Jeok Cheongang roared in fury.

“Jangcheon! You bastard!”

“That bow I just gave you… was my final farewell. I’m leaving now. I’ll go far away and never return.”

“You think I’ll let you leave like this?”

“Then kill me. That’s the only way.”

“…!”

“Kill me.”

Kill me.

Those were his Disciple’s final words.

Jeok Cheongang blinked. The ceiling had looked blurry for some time, and now something was running down his cheek.

“The inn is old. Rain must be leaking through.”

It was a winter night, one day before New Year’s Day.