Chapter 992

The fact that Jeok Cheongang was the only person left in the room was a huge relief.

He already knew the truth about me, and he hadn’t dismissed the words I’d spoken in a trembling voice as the ramblings of a lunatic.

“…So that was the last of it?”

“Yes. After I woke up, well, you know the rest, Old Master.”

Was it the shock of finally facing the truth?

Or had something actually changed inside me?

I didn’t know the exact reason, but I’d been left to flounder alone in a state of utter confusion.

No—maybe I still was.

“Damn it. That’s downright bizarre.”

Jeok Cheongang muttered the words like a groan, then studied me cautiously.

“What is it?”

“No, well… Has anything changed?”

“Changed? Of course.”

“What?”

He cried out in alarm.

Cold sweat still clung unpleasantly to my skin. Apart from that, I could feel power surging through my whole body.

“Well, my mood’s in the gutter, but I feel great physically.”

Jeok Cheongang swallowed.

“A-and?”

“That’s it.”

“…That’s all?”

“Yes.”

He gave me a flat look, then sighed.

“Fine. In a situation like this, that’s probably for the best.”

I agreed, though I kept it to myself. I felt awful, but nothing had actually happened to me.

The bigger problem was what this inexplicable phenomenon meant.

“Just to be safe, let me ask you something. Has anything like this ever happened before?”

“No. Not once, from the beginning until now.”

I answered firmly, then added, “That’s what makes it so strange. If this is a sign of something to come…”

“Don’t say that. Words have a way of coming true. Keep that rotten-luck talk to yourself.”

“Seeds can sprout without anyone watering them. It’s a hundred times better to predict what we can and prepare for it.”

“…Even in a situation like this, you’ve got a silver tongue.”

Jeok Cheongang said it with a sour expression, but he didn’t exactly argue with me.

With far more years behind him than I had, he must already have known it deep down.

What was going to happen would happen, one way or another.

And this wasn’t just a coincidence.

“If your consciousness and Jin Taekyung’s had been mixed together from the beginning… Damn it. I don’t know what to call him. Fine, if your consciousness and that good-for-nothing’s had been mixed together, wouldn’t that make sense?”

After a brief silence, I considered his question, then shook my head.

“I don’t think so. No, I’m sure that’s not it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I had no memories at all when I first arrived. If our consciousnesses had merged, as you say, then at least some tiny memory should’ve remained. That’s the only way it would add up.”

I still remembered that time clearly.

When I first opened my eyes in the pleasure house, I didn’t even know Murim was another world rather than a virtual reality game.

I spoke with Wolhwa without knowing exactly who I was or where I was. That conversation was how I managed to learn even the bare minimum.

And even that was so basic I had to lie to Jin Wikyung and tell him my memories were jumbled.

If even the tiniest fragment of a memory had remained, I could’ve adjusted to this strange world much faster.

You know how it goes in web novels. The protagonist gets hit with a splitting headache, and a flood of memories comes rushing in.

But reality and fiction were worlds apart.

All I’d been given when I first set foot here was the same three-syllable name I’d had in the modern world.

And a body half-rotted from drink and women.

“…”

Now that I thought about it, that pissed me the fuck off.

Anyway, my conclusion was simple.

My consciousness and that of this world’s Jin Taekyung, who’d been nothing but a good-for-nothing, were completely separate.

No—they had been separate.

At least until today, before I had that strange dream.

“You’re so certain, so I’ll take your word for it for now. But the fact that the good-for-nothing’s memories appeared, even if only in a dream…”

His words trailed off.

Jeok Cheongang held my gaze, his expression grave. At last, he continued.

“Maybe some part of that good-for-nothing’s consciousness was inside you from the beginning.”

A groan escaped me before I could stop it.

It was one of the theories I’d been considering myself, but hearing someone else say it gave it a whole different weight.

Damn it. What is this, one house with two families?

There had been a time when I’d wondered about this, too.

It was after I’d spent a while living as Jin Taekyung of the Jin Family of Taiyuan—more precisely, after I realized this strange world wasn’t a game but another reality.

Two worlds.

Two people who’d lived different lives under the same name.

Even if my head were made of Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron, it would’ve been only natural to wonder about it at least once.

If this body wasn’t a game character…

Then what had happened to its original owner?

His body was still here, so where was that good-for-nothing’s soul?

But at some point, I’d had to stop dwelling on it. Crises kept coming at me, one after another. I couldn’t afford to cling to a question I had no way to answer.

I’d simply assumed he’d disappeared the moment I took over this body.

Maybe whoever had made the piece-of-junk capsule that brought me here had thought that was the better outcome, too.

But that wasn’t what happened?

For once, I didn’t know what to say.

I rubbed my stomach, wearing an expression I couldn’t have described if I’d tried.

Jeok Cheongang watched me in silence until he finally spoke.

“I understand you’re feeling conflicted, but what the hell are you rubbing your stomach for? It’s not like you’re pregnant. You’re a hairy man, for crying out loud.”

“…I did it without thinking. Why do you have to put it like that?”

Was this the danger of media?

The moment I thought there might be something inside me, my hand had gone to my stomach on instinct.

Must be a side effect of watching too many commercials about babies and toddlers, I muttered to myself. Then I quietly moved my hand from my stomach to my chest and looked at Jeok Cheongang.

“Did something land on your chest, too? Are you all worked up, huh? Burning up with rage?”

“…I was just trying it out.”

“Fine, let’s say so. You went from your stomach to your chest. Where were you planning to touch next?”

“My head.”

Jeok Cheongang answered without hesitation.

“Don’t. You’ll look like an idiot.”

“Yes, sir.”

I was already starting to regret it. I snatched my hand back, and Jeok Cheongang let out a deep sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

“Seeing the way you carry on makes me worry.”

“About what?”

“From what I’ve heard, that good-for-nothing was a complete idiot. If he suddenly took over your body one day, I might not even notice.”

“Ah, because I’m just as much of an idiot?”

“Exactly. Nothing to add, nothing to take away.”

“Come on, that’s a little harsh. You’re hurting my feelings.”

“What are you going to do if your feelings are hurt? What can you even do? Hm? You…”

“Hey, why are you getting worked up all of a sudden? Calm down. Take it easy.”

Thankfully, Jeok Cheongang came to his senses at the last moment. He spoke calmly, as though nothing had happened.

“Anyway, keep discussing this with me. Do you understand?”

“I was planning to. Who else could I talk to about something like this, if not you?”

It wasn’t a choice. It was a necessity.

If I told people and even one word got out, I’d go from Divine Dragon to Mad Dragon in no time.

Jeok Cheongang believed me because of what he’d seen and experienced himself. But if the truth about me became known throughout the world, the orthodox faction’s chivalrous heroes would take numbers and line up to tear me apart for using unprecedented dark arts.

Who knew? Maybe I’d become the Lord of Heaven’s classmate as a public enemy of Murim.

But in response to my obvious answer, Jeok Cheongang shook his head.

“No. There’s one more person besides me. Have you already forgotten?”

“Who… Oh.”

I’d asked on instinct. Now I clicked my tongue.

Right. There was someone else.

Someone who wasn’t close enough for me to have a deep conversation with about something like this, but who was still somewhat near the truth.

That’s right. The Bow Saint.

I was still a little wary of her.

No—not a little. Very.

I have no idea what she’s thinking.

The distance between us never seemed to shrink.

Even when we’d had several chances to talk at length while staying in the Imperial Palace, we’d never crossed the line she’d drawn.

An invisible wall stood between the Bow Saint and me.

No, she seemed to treat everyone that way. Whenever anyone tried to break through that wall and get closer, she quietly withdrew.

Like magnets with the same pole facing each other.

As if that were the answer.

But the Bow Saint might know something. She knows at least part of the truth.

She’d believed the outlandish contents of a letter and spent decades wandering the world in search of me—or, more precisely, the “chosen one.”

Aside from Jeok Cheongang, who was standing right in front of me, and the mysterious absolute being known as the Martial God, whose very survival was uncertain, the Bow Saint was unquestionably the right person to ask.

Of course, first she’d have to agree to talk.

“Old Master. Then, by any chance…”

Before I could finish, Jeok Cheongang guessed what I was about to say and shook his head.

“Meeting the Bow Saint right now isn’t possible. She still hasn’t returned from Hebei.”

“Hebei…”

“The situation hasn’t fully settled down. Even the Family Head of the Peng Family hasn’t been able to return yet, so it’ll probably take a little longer.”

Hebei. The Peng Family.

At the sound of those two words, something stirred in a corner of my chest.

Someone came to mind—someone who’d done his best for everyone until the very last moment of his life, then left.

“The Thunderbolt Saber King… Is he…?”

I had to force the question out.

“He’s gone,” Jeok Cheongang answered. Then he added, “He was smiling. So brightly I could hardly stand to look at him.”

“…!”

“That’s enough. That’s all that matters.”

I nodded quietly instead of answering.

Then Jeok Cheongang left, and silence settled into the space he’d occupied.

A quiet that had finally come at long last—one I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Open System window.

Ding.

A clear chime shattered the silence.