Chapter 22 - Cut This Bastard Down
‘A Demon Cultist?’
[That’s right.]
On the surface, he looked like your typical innkeeper’s assistant—ordinary, friendly, the kind of person you’d find anywhere. Someone who seemed like his name might be Jang Sam-il. And he’s a member of the Demon Cult?
“How do you know?”
[The spilled tea. Look at the tea on the floor.]
I glanced down discreetly. The assistant had wiped up the spilled tea, but a portion of it hadn’t been cleaned properly.
[It’s a secret symbol used by the Demon Cult. He pretended to wipe it, but he was actually leaving a mark.]
I honestly couldn’t tell. It just looked like he’d wiped it sloppily and left some moisture behind. Even though I’m a veteran of Return of the Murim, there’s no way I could recognize every one of these secret signs. I knew they existed, sure, but they were usually described vaguely as “complicated symbols” and glossed over.
Fortunately, I had Skybreaker Sword to explain it to me.
‘What does the symbol mean?’
[It’s an order to come to the Demon Cult branch.]
I nodded ever so slightly. It was about time.
The original mission of the Black Shadow Corps had been to track down the fugitive Poison Blood Demon and recover the stolen treasure. We’d already lost a lot of time buried in that cave and taken an unexpected detour, so it made sense the Demon Cult headquarters would reach out. The Demon Cult is extremely sensitive about outside activity. People going rogue while working in the Martial World isn’t all that uncommon.
‘There’s a reason “traitor” is the worst insult in the Demon Cult.’
It’s considered even worse than insulting someone’s parents. It’s the kind of thing you’d settle in a duel to the death, no questions asked.
In any case, for someone to fool Yun Yeopja’s eyes like that, it likely meant he was a Demon Cultist working undercover in the Martial World.
‘Now that the order’s been issued, I’ll have to move.’
[Correct.]
“Where’s the branch in Taeryeong Prefecture?”
[Since it’s under the jurisdiction of Qinghai Province, it’s probably the Silver Frog Vault.]
Figures—it’s straight out of a cliché. A bank named after a silver toad.
“The problem is these two.”
I glanced toward Yun Yeopja and Tang Siyuk.
“I’ve heard that people from the East love spicy food. I’m the same.”
“What are you saying? When it comes to spice, it’s got to be Sichuan! And Sichuan means the Tang Clan! I’m great with spicy food!”
“Very well! Let’s see who handles spicy food better! Innkeeper’s son! Bring us your spiciest dishes!”
They were at it again.
Sticking Tang Siyuk next to Yun Yeopja seemed to have dulled the latter’s wits a bit. He used to be composed and thoughtful, but now he felt like a well-meaning but slightly dim older brother. Tang Siyuk had stopped being arrogant, which was nice, but he’d turned into a bit of a fool too.
‘Yeah, I must be the protagonist.’
[What are you going on about.]
“It’s a cliché that people around the protagonist suddenly get dumber.”
[I have no idea what you’re talking about.]
Yeah, none of you do. That’s fine. It’s actually easier for me this way—sharp people make keeping up the act harder.
“Well then.”
I rose from my seat.
“Please, both of you, enjoy the spicy dishes. I’m full, so I’ll be taking my leave.”
“Huh?”
“Yes, elder brother? Where are you going?”
“I need to stop by the vault and withdraw some money.”
“If it’s something like that, let me escort you! Actually, this could be a good opportunity to connect with a vault the Tang Clan does business with. If I introduce you, you’ll get better rates.”
I shook my head.
“Aren’t you two supposed to be competing? Martial artists don’t only duel with swords, do they?”
My words sparked something in their eyes—battle fervor ignited.
“You’re absolutely right.”
“As elder brother says, we shall settle this!”
“Good, good. Make sure you both win.”
[If wagging your tongue were a martial art, you’d be an absolute master.]
‘I’ve had to sweet-talk more difficult people than these greenhorns.’
I’d had to persuade all sorts of clients while working. Getting through to a couple of naïve second-generation righteous sect kids was a breeze.
Leaving them upstairs to their little contest, I stepped down, where Saweol was already waiting. Her expression was the same blank mask as always.
“It’s still dangerous to move around alone…”
But for now, I’d made her believe I was strong. And we weren’t in the Demon Cult, but in the courtyard of a righteous sect—she wouldn’t make any bold moves. Her goal wasn’t my death but revenge against the Demon Cult as a whole.
“We should be fine for the time being.”
I said to Saweol,
“We’re going to the Silver Frog Vault.”
At my words, her expression sharpened.
“I will guide you.”
And so, Saweol and I headed for the branch.
***
The Demon Cult doesn’t have branches everywhere.
They’re usually found in large provincial capitals like Seonyeong or Wuhan. But Taeryeong Prefecture is located in Qinghai Province, right next to the Demon Cult’s base, so it made sense there’d be one here.
Branches are disguised in various forms.
They could be merchant guilds, escort agencies, or vaults that store money.
‘Sometimes even temples, disguised as monasteries.’
The Qinghai branches in particular tended to be vaults—places that, in modern terms, would resemble banks.
A total cliché.
Regardless, Saweol and I arrived at the Silver Frog Vault. Guards stood at the front gate.
“What brings you here today?”
One of the guards stepped forward and spoke.
“Ah, isn’t this the Eastern Sword Dragon? You’ve all heard the rumors, haven’t you?”
“Oh! The man who drove off the vicious Black Shadow Corps with nothing but his aura?”
“That’s him. The branch lord should’ve made an appointment with him. Please, come this way.”
I gave a small nod and stepped inside. Of course, I’d never made such an appointment. The guard leading us was clearly a Demon Cultist. Looks like Demon Cultists and non-Demon Cultists were mixed in here.
Saweol and I were led into what looked like a reception room.
But no one else was there. A servant brought in tea, but no one came to receive us personally.
‘Is that servant a Demon Cultist too?’
[No.]
So they were really just leaving us here.
Figured.
‘It’s a power play, huh.’
This kind of tactic is all too common in sales. They set up a meeting, then make you wait thirty minutes, even an hour. People naturally wear down if they’re left sitting around aimlessly, and the goal is to gain the upper hand psychologically.
‘What a trashy Demon Cult.’
[Watch your tongue.]
“You really think it’s normal to try and play mind games on a fellow Demon Cultist in a secret branch?”
[…]
‘They should be sticking together.’
Just because the Demon Cult had relocated to the frontier didn’t mean its people were unified. Under the Heavenly Demon’s hands-off rule, internal strife over territory and influence was constant. Especially among the Six Great Families of the Demonic Path, to which Sado Hwan belonged.
These six major families were always fighting, trying to carve out the biggest slice for themselves.
“Saweol.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Who’s in charge of the Taeryeong Prefecture branch?”
“A man named Gwak Jin, ranked 107th in the Demon Cult’s hierarchy.”
Of course, Saweol gave an immediate answer—brilliant as always, except for her dull affect.
“He’s from the Gwak Family, huh. No wonder he’s acting like this.”
The Nine Sound Gwak Clan. One of the oldest among the Six Great Families, they even produced the very first Heavenly Demon. Their pride was sky-high.
And being ranked 107th, he was high up for a small backwater like Taeryeong. At the very least, that meant he was a Peak Realm master. Why place someone like that in a remote location?
Well, with that kind of backing, he’d probably think he could pressure me. Compared to the Gwak Family, the Sado Clan—though one of the Six—was more middle of the pack.
“What shall I do?”
“Do nothing until I say otherwise.”
Saweol bowed her head.
The intention behind this was obvious. They were trying to provoke me into a scene and then use the incident to put pressure on the Sado Clan later.
They’d probably want to confirm rumors about Sado Hwan while they were at it.
On paper, Sado Hwan was ranked 23rd in the Demon Cult hierarchy. A man of stunning looks, excellent martial skills, and even Demon Cultured in poetry, calligraphy, and music—essentially too good to be true.
Yet he’d never actually accomplished anything.
Rarely seen in public, shrouded in mystery. Chasing down the Poison Blood Demon was the first official mission he’d ever undertaken since becoming master of the Black Shadow Corps.
The average loyal Demon Cultist or martial artist wouldn’t know the inside story, but members of the Six Great Families would.
They harbored doubts about Sado Hwan.
Though they didn’t dare voice them openly—thanks to the Heavenly Demon.
The current Heavenly Demon had a personal friendship with Sado Hwan, which protected him from public suspicion.
“Thinking about it now gives me chills.”
Not the Demon Cult, but the person who orchestrated all of this. Just how far ahead did they plan to deceive everyone so completely?
“This place is outside the Demon Cult. A good spot to test the rumors about me.”
Sure, I’d earned the nickname Eastern Sword Dragon, but that was just from the incident with the Black Shadow Corps. It wasn’t enough to dispel suspicion.
In other words—
“If I crush him here, it’ll work.”
Demon Cultist logic isn’t something normal minds can understand. They worship strength, constantly challenging and fighting each other. It’s seen as a virtue.
So even if we’re from different factions, a lower-ranked branch manager would still pick a fight with me.
But crushing weaker opponents is also a virtue.
And the crazier part? They like being crushed—because they admire charismatic power.
I may seem harsh to Saweol or Tak Horak, but compared to the usual standards, I’m a pretty soft boss.
If I break the branch manager’s nose here, there won’t be any bad talk about me for a while.
Just then, Saweol shifted her gaze toward the door. She must’ve sensed someone approaching. I didn’t bother to look. Not because I couldn’t sense it—I couldn’t—but even if I had, my reaction would’ve been the same.
I wanted to project the kind of confidence that didn’t flinch at someone’s presence.
Soon, the door opened.
A stout, middle-aged man appeared. He looked like someone who loved money. Despite the mild temperature, he was dabbing sweat with a handkerchief.
“Oh my, look who it is. Isn’t this the Eastern Sword Dragon himself?”
Almost as soon as he spoke, his lips moved silently.
—Taeryeong Branch Manager Gwak Jin greets the Master of the Black Shadow Corps.
The silent transmission was completely different from what he said aloud. So despite his appearance, he had skill.
Sneaky bastard. I don’t even know how to send sound transmissions. That’s something I seriously need to figure out before returning to Demon Cult headquarters.
While I was thinking that, he kept talking.
“I heard your name resounded through the night.”
—State your reason for delaying your mission.
So he was trying to catch me out.
“They say you drove off the Black Shadow Corps with just your aura.”
—If you do not comply, I will submit a disciplinary report. The charges: dereliction of duty, and… fraternizing with martial artists, betrayal of the Demon Cult.
I remained silent.
“Well, the Black Shadow Corps may be a combat unit, but compared to the others, aren’t they just a bunch of misfits? Hahaha!”
This time, he didn’t even bother with sound transmission.
He was deliberately trying to provoke me.
So this is how he wants to play it?
I stayed expressionless and thought to myself.
What kind of act should I put on? What would keep him from underestimating me?
The answer came quickly.
“Saweol.”
“Yes?”
“Cut this bastard down.”
Time to act like a complete lunatic.