177 - Murim Login

Chapter 177 Why didn't I realize it sooner? Perhaps it was a matter of faith in a disciple I had raised as my own blood, or maybe it was simply indifference. Yet, the scent of blood was unmistakably clinging to the tottering figure of Jang Cheon as he climbed the mountain that day. "Where have you been?" "Oh, Master." His eyes were flushed with both intoxication and something else. "I just took a brief trip to the village below. Lately, I’ve been feeling out of sorts, so I went for a drink." "Alcohol, is that all?" "It’s a bit embarrassing to admit. Haha! I’m sorry for showing you this side of me." The pungent scent of strong musk, often used by courtesans, hit my nose. But it was merely a facade. Jok Cheon Kang detected the faint odor of blood beneath the disguise. It was the scent of death, the scent of a killer, forgotten since the Great War of Demonic Spirits. "You... went to the courtesan’s district?" "As expected, I can’t deceive you, Master. Yes, your unworthy disciple was troubled and sought female company." The disciple I faced after so long had become a completely different person. From a reserved, unsmiling boy to a brazen killer who hides his murders with ease. "And what brings you out at such a late hour? Has there been any progress in your secluded training?" "I felt it’s been a long time since I last saw your face, so I was waiting." They said he had brutally murdered dozens of innocent villagers. A disciple guilty of an unspeakable crime. It would have been right to immediately sever his muscles and destroy his energy center. A master should have done so. And yet... "I, too, am glad to see you like this, Master." The sight of Jang Cheon smiling brightly left Jok Cheon Kang speechless. He felt no anger, no sense of betrayal—just a deep, unrelenting ache welling from within. In the end, there was only one thing he could say. "The night is deep. Go and rest." Jin Tae Kyung, listening to Jok Cheon Kang, asked with an incredulous expression. "Is that really all?" "I wanted to believe in the boy." "You already knew, didn’t you? That Jo Pil—or rather, Jang Cheon—was lying." "I knew." "Yet you let him be?" "Indeed, even so." His voice was weary and aged. "Do you have any family?" "Yes." "I do not. Even when I think back to my earliest memories, I was always alone, and so was he." Jok Cheon Kang looked down at his own hands. Hands marked by age spots and wrinkles that told of the passing years. "My master was a stern person. His training was grueling and difficult, but in my youth, I loved even that. It was heartening to know someone was thinking of me, being with me. He was the only person I could rely on." But the time with his master was short. Once again, he was left alone, and the loneliness dulled slowly with the years, until he met a child struggling to protect a single dumpling on the streets. "I was the only one he could depend on. Even if the world pointed fingers, I had to believe in him." At some point, Jang Cheon became more than just a disciple to Jok Cheon Kang. He was the only son, a grandson. Though they shared no blood, the affection was stronger than blood ties. "But what he did was too heinous. I had to stop him, somehow." Before that, he wanted to witness his disciple’s atrocities with his own eyes. The visit from the Sword King of Changcheon meant all suspicions and evidence had already surfaced, but that wasn’t enough. "So, I started secretly tailing him." From that day on, Jok Cheon Kang followed his disciple. Avoiding the notice of Jang Cheon, who had yet to cross the wall to absolute mastery, was easy. Once, twice, ten times... The initial despair faded with each follow-up. Jang Cheon seemed to merely drink at the courtesan’s quarters and lie with women, like any other idler. When he returned to the humble abode, drunk and flushed, he resumed his diligent training as a warrior. Everything seemed without problem. "Suddenly, I began to think—perhaps there had been a mistake, maybe the Changcheon Sword King and the Namgung family had misjudged." Jin Tae Kyung looked aghast. "In my opinion, it’s you, Great Hero, who misjudged." Jok Cheon Kang let out a hollow laugh. "Yes, I did. Foolishly, I deliberately ignored it." "So, did you confirm it yourself?" Jok Cheon Kang drank straight from the bottle silently. The blurred ceiling was not due to the strong liquor, but due to vivid memories of that day. * * * Stab, stab, stab. In a dark alleyway of the bustling pleasure district, suppressed groans and spurts of blood erupted. The blood-soaked masked figure thrust a sharp dagger into the limbs of someone unknown. The figure’s silhouette was both hauntingly familiar and shockingly alien. "...Cheon-ah." A low call made the hand gripping the dagger halt. Slowly, the masked figure turned, meeting Jok Cheon Kang’s eyes. The disciple’s eyes curved into crescents as he encountered his master after so long. "Oh, Master." "What are you doing right now?" "What am I doing? Just what you see." Jang Cheon grinned slyly as he drove his dagger down again. Stab, stab, stab. The middle-aged man, bound and restrained, writhed in agony. "Stop it now!" "Why should I?" "...W-what did you just say?" "Coming out after a long while, I saw all sorts of trash everywhere. Drifters flaunting mediocre martial arts, merchants bloated with excess, and women with nothing but their bodies to sell. This is utter chaos." Jang Cheon laughed brightly. "This man is just one of them. Killing someone like him, why is it a problem? He’s nothing more than a two-legged beast, whose life means so little." To Jok Cheon Kang, everything felt like a dream. The hope he had clung to while watching over his disciple for the past four months vaporized like mist. "Why… why do such things?" "Because I am strong." Jang Cheon continued in an excited voice. "The supreme ruler. Didn’t you teach me? The martial world, nay, the entire world is such a place. The weak fall to the strong." "Did you kill innocent people for such a trivial reason?" "Innocent, you say. How would you know, Master?" "Then, what grave sin have those you killed committed?" He wished they had at least been guilty of something truly heinous. Not simple, naive villagers living like cattle, but rather the deceitful merchants who exploited them or the scoundrels who killed as easily as breathing. But... "I wouldn’t know." "...!" "Is there anyone who lives without sin? They were just unfortunate, and so is this guy who caught my eye." Jok Cheon Kang felt the world around him spin. His disciple, whom he loved dearly as if he were his own blood, had already crossed a river with no return. Once crossed, those on the other side cannot come back. They live their lives as blood-soaked specters. "Cheon-ah." "Yes, Master." The face of the scrawny child he met on the street many years ago overlapped with that of the blood-stained young man before him. "What made you become like this?" "What do you mean?" "You weren't this kind of child. You were the weak, fighting desperately to survive. Have you forgotten?" "I haven’t forgotten. That’s why I am the way I am now." "No, you were kind and diligent—" "Master." Jang Cheon cut off his master's words with a soft voice. Never before had he interrupted or contradicted his master. Yet now, there was a clear sneer on Jang Cheon's lips. "I remember clearly the day I first met you, Master. Wandering the streets for days, starving, I picked up a dirt-covered dumpling. I shoved it into my mouth even as others in similar straits stomped on me." "Exactly, it was to survive. How can you not remember that you too were once weak!" Jang Cheon's lips twisted. "Wang Pal, Hong So-chil, So Woo-pyeong." "...!" "Three of the fifteen who tried to take that dumpling from me. It's unfortunate the others have already passed away." The names pouring from his disciple’s mouth were explicit. Those people were no longer of this world. And until their last breath, they would have endured tremendous suffering. "Though they didn’t remember me, I never forgot a single day. That day, chewing on the dirt-stained dumpling, it dawned on me: This was the world. The weak are trampled by the strong. Thus, I decided to become the strong, to enjoy the rights of the strong." As Jang Cheon recounted his vow in an eerie tone, Jok Cheon Kang realized. "You, you..." "Yes. I have never changed. From the day I first met you, Master, until now, not once." His white teeth gleamed in the darkness as Jang Cheon chuckled gleefully. "It was exhilarating. At first, they begged for their lives, then later, they cried for death. When it was finally silent, a void filled a corner of my heart. Even after having my fill of drink and women, I couldn’t erase that feeling." His nature was undoubtedly that of a natural-born killer. The only method to fill that emptiness was through murder. Until his last breath, Jang Cheon would probably never stop killing. "The timing was fortuitous. You, Master, were focused on your training and ignored me, allowing me to roam freely." Jok Cheon Kang wanted nothing more than to cover his ears. To block out the noise, close his eyes, and erase the memories of today etched in his mind. Feelings of betrayal and fury over the disciple he had nurtured rose within him. But what troubled him most was the lingering affection he still felt for his disciple. "Of course, it wasn’t easy for me either. Was it four months ago? When I returned from my deeds, Master was waiting for me. I realized from your unfamiliar demeanor that I had been discovered." "Enough." "Surely, someone gave you a tip. For you, who believed in me so thoroughly, wouldn’t have suddenly started tailing me... Ah, it must have been the Namgung family." "Enough!" A powerful wave of energy surged. For the first time, Jang Cheon’s eyes widened at the sight of his furious master. "Master?" "You! How dare you call me Master with that mouth? Do you still not realize what you've done?" "Why is this? Would you truly abandon your only disciple over something so trivial?" "Trivial? Did you just say trivial?" "To me, Master is like a father. Even if the world condemned me, I believed you would understand. Because you are like a father to me." Father. It was a word he had longed to hear. Jok Cheon Kang gritted his teeth. "Wrong." "Wrong, you say?" Jang Cheon smiled faintly. "Then why haven’t you killed me yet? You’ve had countless opportunities, even over the past four months." "That’s because...!" "Am I wrong?" Jok Cheon Kang fell silent. Everything Jang Cheon said was true. He had tried hard to overlook the truth and justify it. Because he wanted to believe in his disciple, no matter what. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "I will sever your tendons." "Tendons? And then?" "I will destroy your energy center. You will spend the rest of your life in repentance." "Facing the wall in meditation until death. Just thinking about it is dreadful." Yet, despite his words, Jang Cheon’s face was full of mirth. "However, did the temple’s rules change while I wasn’t looking? In such cases, immediate execution was the standard, wasn’t it?" "…This is my last act of kindness. So lay that man down and step back." Jang Cheon blinked, as if suddenly remembering something important he had forgotten. In his arms, a middle-aged man, soaked in blood, was breathing heavily. "Oh, I forgot about him." Slice. Sssshing. Jok Cheon Kang watched in trembling horror as a fountain of blood erupted before him. Without the slightest hesitation, Jang Cheon cut the throat of the man, whose body trembled briefly before life left him. "Is this your answer?" "It's too late anyway. He would just spend the rest of his life crippled, so isn’t it better to end it cleanly?" "You are... no longer the child I once knew." "I am the child you knew, Master. You were just mistaken from the start." "That’s enough. Your wickedness ends today—" Jang Cheon interrupted, "Do you truly intend to cripple me and subject me to face a wall in meditation for life?" With a hint of fear etched on his disciple’s face, Jok Cheon Kang gripped his fist until blood seeped from it. With a single move, he could erase Jang Cheon from this world. Yet he knew he wouldn’t. The best he could do was cut his disciple's tendons, abolish his martial arts, and confine him. "Do you have regrets?" "Regrets?" "Yes, regrets." Though it would change nothing, he wanted to hear it from him. But in the next moment, the fear on Jang Cheon’s face vanished as if washed away. "I am relieved." "What do you mean?" "I knew you were watching over me these past four months, though I could neither see nor hear you. And yet, why do you think I did these things right in front of your eyes?" Jang Cheon’s face reflected in Jok Cheon Kang’s dazed eyes as he continued with a calm expression. "You cannot kill me, Master. Not even if I kill hundreds, not just dozens. Before leaving, I wanted to confirm that one last time." "Before leaving? What do you mean?" "There may be fathers who scold their children for their faults, but no father in the world would kill his child with his own hands." "...!" "Thank you, Master, for raising me not as a disciple but as a son. Thank you for trying to save such a child to the end. Thanks to you, a single path to life has opened for me." Jang Cheon bowed deeply, full of sincerity, to Jok Cheon Kang, who stood frozen as if his breath had stopped. When he looked up again, a small white porcelain bottle was clamped between his lips. "It’s Bone-Melting Powder." Bone-Melting Powder, a lethal poison that dissolves flesh and bones. No matter how little, if it shattered in his mouth, not even the greatest sage could save him. Jok Cheon Kang shouted in fury. "Jang Cheon! You scoundrel!" "The bow earlier... was my final farewell. I will be leaving now. Far away, never to return." "Do you think I'll just let you go!" "Then kill me. That is the only way." "...!" "Kill me." Those were his disciple's final words. Jok Cheon Kang blinked. The ceiling had been blurry for a while, and something was trickling down his cheeks. "The inn is old. The roof leaks." It was a winter night, just a day before the end of the year.