Two days had passed.
"Young Master."
"......"
"I've brought water."
As expected, there was no response.
Ma Dong-pil sighed inwardly.
'Did something shock him?'
Two days ago, after entering the residence within the Lonely Bamboo Forest, the Third Young Master had stopped eating and drinking, sitting on his bed and staring blankly out the window. Ma Dong-pil wished he would at least sleep, but the Young Master had stayed awake all night with his eyes wide open.
However, it wasn’t as if he was just sitting there in a daze. He seemed to be pondering something with a serious expression, but from Ma Dong-pil’s perspective, it was impossible to tell what it was.
'His body will suffer.'
There was nothing he could do. It wasn’t as if he could force himself to touch the Young Master’s body.
Just as Ma Dong-pil was about to give up and turn away—
"Huh? It’s morning?"
Startled, Ma Dong-pil looked at Cheon Ha-jin.
Cheon Ha-jin rubbed his face vigorously with both hands, as if washing it.
Ma Dong-pil immediately knelt down.
"Have you finished your deep thoughts?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I didn’t realize it was already morning."
"It’s not just morning, Young Master. Two days have passed."
"Two days?!"
"Yes."
"No wonder my stomach feels so empty."
"My apologies."
"Why are you always apologizing...?"
His face, after not sleeping or drinking water for two days, looked as haggard as a sick person’s.
"Do you have water?"
"Yes!"
Ma Dong-pil handed over the bowl of water that was on the table.
Cheon Ha-jin poured the water directly into his mouth.
"Gulp, gulp! Glug, glug!"
The sound of gulping echoed as the cold water poured into his mouth like a waterfall.
'Gasp!'
Ma Dong-pil’s face turned pale.
He hadn’t expected the Young Master to down the entire bowl of cold water in one go like a hero emptying a wine cup. With his weakened body, drinking a whole bowl of cold water would surely upset his stomach.
But...
"Ahhh! Refreshing."
"Young Master!"
"What?"
"...Are you alright?"
Cheon Ha-jin tilted his head.
"Why wouldn’t I be? By the way, the water here tastes good. Can you bring me another bowl?"
"O-of course."
"This time, warm it up a bit. I feel like my stomach might burst."
"At your command!"
As soon as Ma Dong-pil dashed out like an arrow, Cheon Ha-jin flopped down onto the bed.
"Hmm, yeah. Now my thoughts are finally clearing up."
Despite his relaxed body, his face was terrifyingly stern.
"I can’t leave."
He had omitted the word "immediately," but... whatever.
As he stared at the ceiling, he let out a bitter laugh.
"No matter how hard I try, I can’t leave."
At this point, all he could do was laugh.
It was astonishing that it had taken him two whole days to sort out such an obvious thought. If counted from the moment he woke up, it had been over a hundred days.
Now, he wouldn’t waver anymore. He wouldn’t waste time on unnecessary thoughts.
There was no time for that.
'The Military Advisor? The Demon God Palace? None of it mattered. It was never possible from the start.'
He realized the fundamental reason why he had been so unnecessarily anxious, why he had been obsessed with the thought of escaping immediately.
A dream? No.
Prejudice against the Demonic Cult? Even less so.
The real reason he had thought of fleeing the moment he learned that this body belonged to the Third Young Master of the Heavenly Demon Cult was...
"...Because it was uncomfortable."
And what caused that discomfort was the subtle sense of foreboding lingering in the air.
'I realized it too late.'
During his time as the King of Assassins, he had been gifted with heightened senses.
It wasn’t something he had sought out. It was a natural result of constantly facing the threat of death—a blend of innate talent and the environment he was forced into.
And the martial art he created to amplify those senses, the Heavenly Net Six Senses Technique, had made him a legend in the world of assassination.
'Heightened senses aren’t a martial art. Like what I felt when I met the Cult Leader, this is a sensation engraved in my soul.'
Cheon Ha-jin smiled bitterly.
'Since when did I mistake it for a martial art?'
If he hadn’t made that mistake, he might have seen through the essence of the situation more easily.
"No, maybe it would have been even more confusing. Damn it! Is this ability helpful or not?"
The death a martial artist faces is different from the death an assassin faces.
A martial artist fights with swords and spears, but an assassin fights with 'moments'—fleeting instants of time.
For that one perfect moment, an assassin endures and focuses. Whether it takes three days or ten, they see nothing else.
And how well they capture that moment, how long they can maintain that focus, determines their talent as an assassin.
Cheon Ha-jin was a genius. At least in assassination, he was a genius who made the title "Greatest Under Heaven" seem inadequate.
The Righteous Heaven Alliance, without properly managing such a genius, had thrown him into the swamp of death at every turn. There were even times when he had to go on assassination missions three times a day.
The assassin who had eliminated more targets than anyone in history.
The assassin who had been closer to death than anyone in history.
Considering the hardships of his life, Cheon Ha-jin’s heightened senses were a well-deserved ability.
And now.
Cheon Ha-jin, who had not fully realized who he was, had completely regained his identity as the King of Assassins.
"Either way, leaving here is the right choice. But it’s impossible right now."
Facing the truth, understanding the situation.
"Then, for the time being, I have no choice but to live as the Third Young Master of the Demon Cult, Seo Ryang."
Accepting reality, planning for the future.
"Between the desires of the Third Young Master and my own desires for the future, where do they overlap?"
Cross-verification, and then...
"I need to get stronger."
Conclusion reached.
Cheon Ha-jin’s eyes shone.
"I need to get stronger. Above all else, becoming stronger is the priority."
In a world where the weak are weeded out.
And the Heavenly Demon Cult, more than any other faction in the martial world, strictly adhered to the law of the jungle, where the strong ruled.
Passively waiting to be weeded out and expelled was never an option. If he wanted to survive here as Seo Ryang, he had to become stronger.
The same went for Cheon Ha-jin’s future. He had thoughts of leaving the martial world, but he didn’t want to give up martial arts entirely. The world was unpredictable, and for a safe life, martial arts were necessary.
In the end, whether he lived or died, the path he had to walk was only one.
Martial arts.
'No more petty tricks. I’ll leave on my own two feet, with my own abilities.'
Just as he solidified his resolve, the door opened, and Ma Dong-pil entered.
"Young Master, I’ve brought water."
"Thank you."
Cheon Ha-jin emptied the bowl of lukewarm water in one go.
"Mr. Ma."
"Yes, Young Master."
"From now on, call me Seo Gongja (Third Young Master Seo)."
"...Yes?"
Cheon Ha-jin silently looked up at Ma Dong-pil.
In that instant, Ma Dong-pil felt a chill run down his spine.
The Third Young Master’s gaze was extremely clear. His eyes, ambiguous as if they belonged to a human or a ghost, evoked a terrifying sense of dread.
Ma Dong-pil hurriedly bowed his head.
"At your command, Seo Gongja."
Cheon Ha-jin nodded.
'From now on, I am Seo Ryang.'
Until he could leave this place, until he could stand tall in his own life, he would live solely under the name Seo Ryang.
"I’m hungry. Let’s eat."
"I’ll prepare it right away."
Half an hour later, after excessive drinking and overeating, Cheon Ha-jin collapsed from severe diarrhea and exhaustion.
The resolve to leave on his own abilities grew stronger with each passing day.
On the fifth day after entering the Lonely Bamboo Forest—
"Done!"
Cheon Ha-jin—no, Seo Ryang—clenched his fist with a shout.
"My body is completely healed."
There was nothing left to add or subtract. He was perfectly back to normal.
There were no lingering internal injuries, and his muscles were brimming with vitality. His meridians, which had been in disarray, were now smooth, and the functions of his internal organs were healthier and more active than his age would suggest.
The growth of his Limitless Art was also encouraging.
'Fourth Dan!'
The Limitless Art had broken through to the Fourth Dan. As a result, the process of expelling impurities from his body had become several times faster, and the purification ability of his Clear Essence had also strengthened significantly.
'Now!'
A sense of pride spread across Seo Ryang’s face.
'Now the proper foundation has been laid.'
From this point on, the true path of martial arts would begin. With his talented body and the insights gained from living as the King of Assassins, he could grow stronger in a short time even without rare elixirs.
And then...
Whoooosh!
Seo Ryang closed his eyes.
A strange resonance rose from deep within his body.
Even without opening his eyes, he could see the world. More accurately, it felt as if he could see.
The chirping of birds, the fluttering of insects’ wings, even the wriggling of earthworms—all of it was vividly felt.
Heavenly Net Six Senses Technique.
A martial art that maximized his heightened senses and opened his mind’s eye. With his current low level of internal energy, he could barely use even a fraction of its power, but being able to use it at all was something.
"Great! Let’s give it a try!"
Limitless Art, Heavenly Net Six Senses Technique, and Shadow Qi.
While he had ample knowledge of other assassination techniques and external martial arts, these three martial arts were the foundation that had made the King of Assassins a legend.
With the Limitless Art and Heavenly Net Six Senses Technique now usable, all he needed was to master the Shadow Qi, a martial art created by compiling the secret techniques of the Nine Sects and One School, and he could quickly become stronger.
Filled with dreams and hopes, Seo Ryang happily began reciting the口诀 (secret口诀) of the Shadow Qi.
A moment later.
"Wait."
Seo Ryang’s eyes widened. He had encountered an unexpected obstacle.
"Is it okay to learn the Shadow Qi...?"
This is the Heavenly Demon Cult, after all.
And I’m the Third Young Master, Seo Ryang.
Seo Ryang must have known some demonic arts. Probably the ones personally taught by the Cult Leader.
But I don’t know what they are?
'Damn it!'
Why are you so incompetent?!
Seo Ryang grabbed his head and let out a frustrated scream.
"Mr. Ma! Mr. Maaaa!"
A moment later, Ma Dong-pil rushed out from somewhere in the bamboo forest. His sleeves were rolled up, and his body was quite dirty, as if he had been working on something.
"You called, Seo Gongja?"
"I have a question."
"Please ask."
"Among the disciples of the Cult Leader—that is, my senior brothers and sisters—"
"Yes."
Seo Ryang swallowed hard.
"Is there anyone who hasn’t learned demonic arts?"
Ma Dong-pil’s brow furrowed slightly, as if he didn’t understand the question.
"How could that be? Everyone is cultivating powerful demonic arts bestowed directly by the Cult Leader."
"......"
"Young Master, didn’t you also learn demonic arts before entering the cult?"
"Y-yeah! Of course I know! I know!"
"Yes."
"......"
"......"
"Hypothetically."
"Please ask."
"Just hypothetically."
Seo Ryang asked in a tense voice.
"What would happen if a disciple of the Cult Leader learned martial arts other than demonic arts?"
"...Yes?"
Ma Dong-pil, who rarely showed such a reaction, looked completely stunned by the question.
"I’m sorry, Young Master, but I don’t understand what you mean..."
"I mean it literally! What happens if you don’t learn demonic arts?"
"That, that is..."
It was something he had never thought about. A demonic practitioner who didn’t learn demonic arts? Could such a person even be called a demonic practitioner?
Ma Dong-pil stammered.
"Such a thing... I don’t think it’s possible..."
Seo Ryang was utterly despairing. From Ma Dong-pil’s reaction, it was clear that such people were considered unworthy of being called demonic practitioners.
Well, honestly, he didn’t care about that. If he got kicked out for it, that wouldn’t be so bad either.
The problem was!
"Others might be fine, but if the Young Masters and Young Ladies don’t learn demonic arts, I dare say the Cult Leader would be quite displeased..."
"......"
"My apologies."
Seo Ryang hung his head low.
Ma Dong-pil was bewildered. He couldn’t understand why the Young Master was acting like this.
After some time passed.
"Mr. Ma."
"Yes, Seo Gongja."
"Using the authority of the Third Young Master, gather all the demonic arts manuals you can lend me."
Seo Ryang raised his head.
Ma Dong-pil, who was about to speak, was startled.
Seo Ryang’s face wore a strange expression, somewhere between a smile and a cry, and a single tear rolled down his cheek.
"...Please hurry."