Episode 59. He Looked Like a Lecher, to Begin With
Maybe it was because the weather was so good.
The subordinates had been slicing at flower petals for four straight days, and I had no choice but to summon So Gunpyeong.
“So, branch leader.”
“Yes.”
“You and Junior Hong might be gaining something from playing with petals, but the subordinates are not. As Junior Geum said, this is just nonsense. You’ve probably grasped the direction by now, so rein them in.”
So Gunpyeong nodded. “I was thinking the same, but they’ve fallen so deep into it that I wasn’t sure how to handle them.”
“You’re the chief instructor. Isn’t it easier when your men stop listening to you?”
“Easier? In what way?”
“You can work them harder. Beat those flower-scent-drunk fools with wooden swords if you must. They think they’ve reached enlightenment—show them how far off they are.”
“I see I was worrying for nothing. I’ll make sure they scream properly today.”
Just then, Commander Byeok approached. “Lord, Commander Byeok reporting.”
“You’ve already sent out the bounty?”
“The Dragon Elder’s usual residence was fixed,” he said. “But lately, he’s been frequenting Hua Hua Mountain Villa with a number of wandering swordsmen. Whether he’s gathering allies or buying influence, we’re not sure. I’ll brief the officers together.”
Moments later, the officers entered the main hall. Byeok pinned a blank sheet on a board and lifted a brush, looking like an old strategist finally getting his chance to explain a battle plan.
He wrote the character for “Mao (卯)” in the center, then “Dragon Elder (Yurong Nogun)” and several other names on the right, explaining, “A man called Silver Demon, Yu Sacheong, has been spotted. Along with him are the Shooting Star Drifters—mercenaries who’ll cause trouble for money—and several unidentified martial artists. The reason they’re gathering is simple. We’re the only ones who’ve stirred up the region recently. With Namhwa weakened, they probably mean to take a bite. The death of the Twelve Apostles and Daenachal must’ve spread far.”
“So someone kills Daenachal, and they think Namhwa’s weak?” I muttered. “Idiots.”
Byeok smiled faintly. “Greed often outranks reason.”
He drew a large circle, wrote “Master Shui (Suseonsaeng)” inside it, and connected it to the Dragon Elder. “This is my theory,” he said.
“Master Shui as well?”
“Yes. The Dragon Elder was close to Daenachal, while Master Shui despised him. Shui wanted to strike but lacked the Elder’s support. The Elder, who took much from Daenachal, has now lost him. Their alliance is as natural as a man and woman meeting. By rallying as many people as possible and splitting Namhwa’s power, both gain. We just don’t yet know who’s leading.”
I stared at the board. Some names I knew, some I didn’t.
The Shooting Star Drifters were mercenaries who wielded meteor hammers—anywhere between fifty to a hundred strong. They often meddled in underworld turf wars, living day by day. Yu Sacheong, the “Silver Demon,” was new to me but somehow stood out more than Master Shui or the Dragon Elder.
“Who is Yu Sacheong?” I asked.
“A self-proclaimed mediator,” Byeok replied. “But really, he’s a gambler who stirs up big conflicts for profit. He travels alone, no faction, but he’s earned plenty from underworld disputes. And he’s got the skills to back it up.”
Meaning, if I didn’t know him, he probably died violently somewhere.
At that moment, two subordinates dressed as peddlers entered and reported what they’d seen.
“Master Shui himself led his followers into Hua Hua Mountain Villa, and disciples of the Muak Sect entered right after.”
“We also saw Lady Iron Toad heading there with her students.”
I decided further reports were pointless. “Go rest.”
“Yes.”
Byeok drew smaller circles on the board and wrote “Muak Sect” and “Lady Iron Toad.” “I expected Master Shui, but not Muak Sect or her.”
“The Muak Sect, I can see.”
The Muak Sect straddled the line between righteous and demonic—bat-like opportunists. Lady Iron Toad was a mid-level demonic master known for her throwing weapon, the Iron Toad Darts.
“I’ll alert the Twelve Apostles,” Byeok said. “If the Dragon Elder plans to split Namhwa’s territory, even they won’t be safe.”
I studied the board. “Count the Four Envoys and all of Black Cat Hall’s forces. Then estimate the Dragon Elder’s side. Compare.”
“Yes.”
Byeok began adding numbers. Hongshin and Geumhae had no subordinates to count—Hongshin always acted alone, and Geumhae’s merchant troops weren’t for war.
Even including the Four Envoys and Black Cat Hall, we totaled barely two hundred fifty. The Dragon Elder’s side, though, exceeded four hundred.
“If I go on a rampage, we might hold,” I muttered. “But numbers matter for morale. We can’t be outnumbered from the start.”
I looked around. “One of you, go to Ilyang Prefecture. Tell Sama Bi and Cha Seongtae to gather every bored bastard and join us. Another, head to the Black Line Fort.”
“The Black Line Fort?” So Gunpyeong asked.
“Tell Dokgo Saeng to bring a hundred of his best.”
“You think he’ll come?”
“Tell him the Hao Clan Master calls. He’ll come. Then we’ll be even. Even if it turns into full-scale war, our men won’t lose heart. Just watch out for those Black Line maniacs—they’re insane.”
“Understood,” So Gunpyeong said on behalf of the others.
“One more thing,” I said. “Anyone on the Dragon Elder’s side I shouldn’t kill? Old friends, relatives, whatever. Speak now.”
The officers exchanged looks. I added, “Don’t blame me afterward if I kill them all.”
So Gunpyeong glanced around, then replied, “No one, sir.”
“Good. Dismissed. Summon the Twelve Apostles next. Any who don’t answer—hunt them down and beat them to death.”
The strong must stir the pot so the weak can survive. After the meeting, I propped my feet on the table and dozed off.
Lately, meditation drained me—burning stamina and spirit too fast. Sometimes, just before sleep, I’d feel that strange unease:
“Ugh… this’ll be one of those stupid dreams, won’t it?”
Too tired to stay awake, too annoyed to rest. That was my mood. And yes—I dreamt a stupid dream.
Gwangseung came running toward me, laughing wildly. Innocent bystanders were sent flying as his shoulders plowed through them, but he kept laughing. “Hahahahahaha!”
I grabbed a rag and started wiping tables. “Damn it.” I silently prayed he’d pass by, but he stopped, turning to me.
“Hey, busboy.”
The word busboy made my blood boil. “Yes?”
“Which way is Zhejiang?”
Even flustered, I managed to answer calmly. “Just keep going east, I suppose.”
He blinked. “You’re saying just go east?”
“For now, yes.”
“If I keep going east and never reach Zhejiang, you’ll take responsibility?”
No answer felt safe. Say yes, and he’d drag me off to “take responsibility.” Say no, and he’d take offense and drag me anyway. My breath caught.
“What business do you have in Zhejiang?” I asked carefully.
“They say there’s a fish as big as a roc off its coast. The disciple who told me wasn’t a liar, so it must be true.”
“I believe it, too.”
“You’ve seen it?”
I tossed the rag on the table. “No. Why?”
“That tone…”
Maybe because it was a dream, but I lost my filter. I rolled up my sleeves. “You picking a fight? Let’s go, then.”
He burst out laughing—then roared like a lion, testing my inner strength with the sound. After a while, he snorted. “Funny kid. I’ll let you live. Train hard. We’ll meet again.”
He vanished in a swirl of dust. I smirked. “Coward.”
Thank heaven I’d been training hard lately. Just then, a familiar, irritating voice rang out from behind.
“Busboy, stop standing there like an idiot and bring the wine already!”
“What?”
I turned. Gwangmyeong Jwasa—the future Radiant Seat of the Demon Sect—was sitting at a table with a beautiful woman.
“You crazy bastard, do you even know where you are?”
I cursed and kicked him square in the chest. He should’ve countered easily, but instead he screamed and rolled across the floor several times.
The atmosphere froze.
“What are you doing!” the woman cried, rushing to restrain me—when suddenly I was lifted into the air.
Looking back, I saw Gwangseung gripping my collar, grinning. “So you’re the wicked one, huh?”
“What are you talking about? He’s the lecher! That bastard becomes Radiant Seat later! Put me down!”
“You kicked him first and dare talk nonsense? You need a beating.”
“Beating my ass! I’m not who I used to be!”
The scenery warped. Gwangseung and I clashed, trading hundreds of blows. I used the Heavenly Jade Power, Golden Tortoise Soaring Art, Absorbing Star, and even Plum Blossom Sword. Gwangseung looked genuinely impressed—until his aura exploded like a storm, shifting into the form of the Immovable King.
“Oh, crap.”
Then I saw him—the lecher himself, standing at the alley’s edge, smirking as he watched. Gwangmyeong Jwasa, the bastard who’d deliberately taken my kick, grinning as if enjoying the show.
I convulsed as though struck by lightning. And woke up.
I sighed deeply. To think they’d torment me even in dreams.
“Commander Byeok!” I roared.
He came running. “Yes, Lord? What are your orders?”
Still rattled, I waved my hands before focusing my thoughts. “This might sound odd, but can you draw a wanted poster from my description alone?”
“I can try.”
“Good. We must find this man.”
“A fugitive, my lord? I’ll track him no matter what.”
It would’ve been easier if I knew his name—but all I knew was that he was the future Radiant Seat, and I was the future Mad Demon. We’d never cared for real names.
“First,” I said, “he looks like a lecher.”
“Excuse me?”
“A feeling. You know—charming face, pale skin, that smirking, flirtatious look.”
Byeok’s lips twitched upward. “Understood.”
“Already?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, Lord. I’ll make sure my drawing catches this ‘lecher.’”
He grinned confidently as he reached for his brush.