Chapter 2: Heavenly Demon (天魔)

Some deranged old man held a sword to my throat while spouting nonsense.

Normally, I would have immediately knelt and begged for forgiveness. I pretty much threw my pride out the window back when I was a civil servant dealing with Karens. I learned the hard way in my first year that being proud just makes a shitty situation a million times worse.

Here, it was even more critical. In this world where martial artists ran amok, things didn't just get worse; if you crossed the wrong person, you'd likely end up crippled or dead.

But for some reason, my knees refused to bend.

How to put it?

It was just…fucking infuriating.

Maybe it was disgust at myself for living years while throwing away my pride.

Or maybe it was rebellion, a refusal to kneel before those who might have killed Uncle Taeheon, the man who'd cared for me like a father for a year.

Or perhaps this young body, contrary to reason, was surrendering to primal rage.

Maybe it was a tangled mess of all these things.

I honestly don't know why.

All I know is my brain was yelling, "GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG!" but my mouth had other ideas.

"What a load of bullshit."

The old man's eyebrows twitched at my rough speech, but his presence still weighed heavily.

"...What did you just say?"

But even with that terrifying presence pressing on my being, my mouth kept running.

"You kill someone who was like a father to me, then ask me to become your disciple? If you're going to go crazy, at least do it properly, you senile murderous bastard!!"

After unleashing a torrent of curses at the old man, I felt a sense of relief.

Simultaneously, a searing pain shot through my neck.

As my vision blurred, a thought crossed my mind.

'So, I'm dying from a stab wound again.'

Would this really be the end this time?

Or will I experience another reincarnation or possession?

With these futile thoughts, my consciousness faded.

***

"Ugh..."

A pained groan escaped my lips as I opened my eyes to an aching stiffness spreading through my entire body.

What greeted my eyes was an unfamiliar ceiling.

'Damn. Another possession?'

But my hopes were dashed by a voice from beside me.

"You're awake."

"!?"

Chills instantly ran down my spine.

Though our conversation had been brief, it was a voice I could never forget. It was the voice of the old man who had plunged a sword into my neck.

"H-How...?"

Responding to my loaded question, the old man looking down at me asked.

"How what?"

"H-how am still I alive?"

As soon as I asked, a horrifying thought occurred to me.

'Is he not done venting his anger!?'

Maybe just killing me outright was too boring for him, so he's gonna keep me around and torture me to death for fun!?

While my brain was busy cooking up that nightmare scenario, the old man just burst out laughing.

"Hahahaha!"

It was a strange feeling.

The old man who had exuded a presence as crushing as a mountain before I lost consciousness was gone.

Despite having the exact same face and voice, the old man now seemed like a harmless being, devoid of any menacing aura whatsoever.

Perhaps it was the old man's tranquil demeanor. I managed to gather my wits and survey my surroundings.

'A carriage...?'

It seemed I was being transported in a carriage with the old man.

Having finished his laughter, the old man stroked his long beard with a calm expression and spoke.

"First, we need to clear up a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? What misunderstanding?"

"Hmm. Whether you believe it or not, we did not kill the innkeeper."

"..."

The mention of Uncle Taehyeon made my expression harden involuntarily.

It seemed this young body of mine was unable to easily conceal intense emotional changes.

While I could endure humbling myself, but facing my benefactor’s enemy with a smile was a step too far.

"Then who killed him?"

"It was the Murim Alliance."

"...Are you trying to shift the blame to the Murim Alliance?"

The Murim Alliance was a coalition of righteous sects. While most martial artists in this world could be considered gangsters or thugs in modern terms, the Alliance at least pretended to be the 'good guys.'

To frame them implied that this old man was undoubtedly a demonic cult leader or villain with a grudge against them.

"On the contrary, the Alliance killed the innkeeper and tried to pin the blame on me."

"Why would the Alliance do such a thing?"

"Only then could they tarnish my name and unite under a common cause."

He sounded like a senile old man.

Who was this old man that the entire Orthodox Faction would unite just to frame him?

But recalling the overwhelming presence I'd felt before losing consciousness, it didn't seem entirely nonsensical.

"Then, what was that slicing sound from the kitchen?"

"That was the sound of my guard killing the Murim Alliance assassin who murdered the innkeeper. I had no plans to visit that inn. It was a spontaneous decision. It's illogical that the innkeeper would have poison prepared for me as if expecting my arrival."

Having said this, the old man's eyebrows twitched as if he'd remembered something. He continued in a calm tone, "Come to think of it, this must be an injustice to both you and the innkeeper. You were caught in this situation simply because I happened to stop by that inn."

Seeing the old man's genuinely apologetic face, I felt a strange mix of emotions.

During my time as a civil servant, apologies like this only emboldened entitled complainers to demand more.

This was the perfect moment to lash out at the old man or exploit the situation.

'Yet, it's similar to my past but entirely different.'

Perhaps it was because I'd glimpsed the old man's true power.

It felt like the final act of kindness from a predator.

My instincts screamed that if I mistook his kindness for weakness, I would be torn to shreds.

Therefore, instead of getting angry, I asked my question in a calm tone.

“Okay, so why didn't you mention any of this back then? It feels like you fabricated a justification while I was unconscious."

The old man stroked his beard and replied, "There are two main reasons. First, there was no time for a lengthy explanation."

Seeing my confused expression, he elaborated.

"The poisoned food meant the Alliance was on my trail. Their hounds would soon arrive in droves. While I don't fear them, it wouldn't be easy to fight while protecting a potential disciple I'd taken a liking to."

"Then why did you force that choice on me?"

"That's the second reason. Despite the time constraints, I wanted to test you."

"???"

"No matter how talented a child might be in martial arts, if their character is twisted, raising them would only invite disaster. Despite the misunderstanding, I admired your spirit—choosing death over becoming the disciple of one you believed to be your enemy. Hahaha."

"..."

So, my cursing and defiance had actually impressed him?

Isn’t this the exact situation like those outdated cliché scenarios from the dramas? Some kind of 'you're the first to treat me this way' scenario?

But the absurdity was fleeting.

'If I'd agreed to become his disciple, I'd be dead?'

Chills ran down my spine once again.

My impulsive defiance had inadvertently saved my life.

At that point, the old man finished his story and asked, "Can you understand a little better now?"

"... While I can't fully believe it. It's plausible, I suppose."

And it wasn't just because what he said made logical sense.

The biggest reason was that he was keeping me alive.

He had brought along an inn assistant who had refused to be his disciple and had even spat curses at him. In this world, that seemingly impossible act made it feel as though the old man wasn't someone who killed for the hell of it.

Lost in thought, I suddenly met the old man's gaze fixed on me.

They were like a deep and tranquil lake.

I couldn't fathom its depths, yet it felt like it reflected me entirely, reading my every thought.

Feeling a strange sense of unease, I spoke with a glimmer of hope.

"However, I still don't completely believe you. Therefore, I cannot become your disciple. If you would let me off here, I will return to my village and investigate what happened at the inn."

Whether the old man was telling the truth or not, I wanted no part in the affairs of the martial world.

It was a ruthless world where people died left and right.

I longed for a peaceful and stable work-life balance, a life of moderate work and leisure.

But the old man, who had been conversing amicably until now, firmly shook his head.

"Impossible."

"...May I ask why?"

"It's simple. Why would I have brought you here if I didn't intend for you to become my disciple?"

"..."

Because you kidnapped me to force me into servitude?

…is what I could not bring myself to say out loud.

Though the old man was frightening, something about the situation didn't add up.

If he truly intended to force me into becoming his disciple, there would have been no reason for such kindness.

As I met the old man’s gaze, which seemed to be waiting for me to find the answer myself, I soon reached a conclusion of my own.

"Is it to prevent me from being killed by the Murim Alliance like Uncle Taeheon?"

"Exactly. With you alive as a witness, their plan to frame me will be disrupted. They are the type who would kill you too and pin everything on me, with plenty of accusations to spare."

"I swear I will never utter a word to incriminate you. In fact, I will remain silent about you and live in hiding. So, please, let me..."

"The Alliance's surveillance is more extensive than you think. And no matter how righteous one's heart may be, the body can betray it. Do you think you can withstand their torture if they capture you, pull out your fingernails and toenails, sear your flesh with hot irons, and flay your skin piece by piece until you confess?"

"..."

I couldn't bring myself to say yes.

There was no way in hell I could lie to myself and pretend I could survive that kind of torture. It was impossible.

As if reading my thoughts, the old man sealed the conversation.

"The moment you became entangled with me, you were left with only two choices: to join me or to be hunted by the Alliance for the rest of your life, eventually ending up tortured and killed in their prison."

"..."

I'd stepped in shit. Not just any shit, but a world drowning in it.

No, wait. I hadn't stepped in it.

The moment this old man entered the inn, the entire world had turned to shit.

But now that my choices were reduced to one, my thoughts were simplified despite the injustice and frustration.

If there were no other options, I had to make the best of the remaining one.

“Is becoming your disciple the only option I have left?”

"Indeed."

"Then, may I ask for the esteemed name of the one who might become my master?"

I needed to know if the rope I was grabbing was a lifeline or a rotten thread.

"Hahaha. Esteemed name. Your tone has changed."

"Ahem..."

"I was jesting. My name is Hyeokryeon Il-hwi (赫連日輝)."

Upon hearing the old man's name, I nearly caught myself tilting my head in confusion.

If I pretended this was my first time hearing it, it might offend him.

A man who claimed the entire Murim Alliance was after him must possess considerable ego.

To admit I did not know the name of such a man could easily offend him. That was how most martial artists think.

But perhaps my acting was unconvincing. The old man smiled faintly and spoke again.

"Hahaha. It's true that in the Central Plains, my title is more widely known than my name. In Jianghu, they call me the Heavenly Demon."

Heavenly Demon (天魔).

That was the title of the old man who had turned my world into shit.