The expression on Cheongcheon Podu's face crumbled for just a brief moment.
It was a subtle difference, one that most people wouldn’t notice.
But it didn’t escape my eyes.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, quickly regaining his usual composure.
I stared at him silently.
Seeing this, Cheongcheon Podu furrowed his brows and spoke again. “I asked what you’re talking about. You didn’t call me out here just to joke around, did you? Surely you don’t think I’m the culprit?”
He let out a small sigh and shook his head as if it were absurd.
But I was confident in my judgment.
I was about to prove it.
“That demonic art,” I suddenly changed the topic.
Fortunately, I got the reaction I expected.
“Huh?”
“The martial art the culprit practiced. It’s called the Blood Rain Demonic Art. It’s one of the techniques used by the Blood Cult in the past.”
“... I heard it was an unknown demonic art.”
“I didn’t know back then, but now I’m certain.”
“...”
Cheongcheon’s eyes flickered, and his pupils dilated.
He might be able to control his expression, but he wasn’t skilled enough to control every bodily reaction.
I clasped my hands behind my back and continued leisurely. “You’ve probably heard this before. Demonic arts grant rapid progress at first, but as time goes on, they cause problems for the body. The mind deteriorates, leading to madness, or the life force becomes twisted, leading to death...”
“... I’ve heard of it.”
“Fortunately, the Blood Rain Demonic Art is relatively stable. The Blood Cult conducted countless experiments to minimize its side effects. As long as you don’t overdo it, you won’t go mad or die.”
It goes without saying that I played a part in minimizing those side effects.
“Why are you telling me this now...?”
“But that’s only if you’ve properly mastered the Blood Rain Demonic Art. What you’ve learned seems like a crude imitation. If you keep using it, you won’t live long.”
“...”
I watched as Cheongcheon Podu’s breathing grew heavier and the whites of his eyes turned red.
“One of the side effects of the Blood Rain Demonic Art. When emotions run high, the whites of the eyes turn red.”
“... If that’s all you’re basing your suspicion on, I’ll tell you I haven’t been sleeping well due to the investigation.”
“After practicing, do your meridians ache and your digestion worsen? That’s also a typical side effect.”
“...”
“Most importantly, your nerves become increasingly sensitive. To hide it, you suppress your emotions and maintain a blank expression.”
“That’s just how my face is.”
“So I’ve heard. For the past few years.”
“... Did you investigate me?”
Cheongcheon frowned, clearly displeased.
I nodded.
Before coming to see Heoil’s body earlier, I had met with people who knew Cheongcheon Podu and gathered information.
“At first, I suspected the bodyguard. He’s a first-rate expert, and as expected of a former wanderer, he’s good at controlling his expressions. It’s also plausible that he could have obtained the martial art of the fallen Blood Cult while wandering around... But you see.”
I looked at Cheongcheon Podu, whose expression had hardened, with a hint of pity.
“A seasoned wanderer wouldn’t recklessly practice a martial art that ruins the body. Especially not someone with a family.”
“...”
“The process of mastering the Blood Rain Demonic Art is quite painful. If someone had to learn it, they must have been desperate. Not a brothel owner sitting on a pile of money or a reckless son, but for example...”
I stared straight at him and said, “What about a boy born an orphan, with weak bones, but with a burning desire to become a martial artist?”
“...”
Cheongcheon Podu remained silent.
After a while, he spoke again.
“It’s all conjecture. You have no evidence, just speculation. You think I’ve practiced a demonic art? How do you plan to prove it?”
I knew a way to prove he had practiced the demonic art, but I didn’t need to.
My gaze shifted to his feet.
“The shoes you’re wearing.”
“...?”
“They’re scorched.”
“...!!”
“When I asked if you had been at the crime scene yesterday, you clearly said no. So why are your shoes scorched?”
“This is...”
Cheongcheon stammered, trying to come up with an excuse.
I chuckled and cut him off.
“You must have changed your clothes after killing Heoil, but you didn’t have the presence of mind to change your shoes.”
In truth, the scorch marks were faint, barely noticeable.
But I didn’t miss that small detail.
Cheongcheon gritted his teeth and glared at me.
“Do you think you can pin me as the culprit with just that?”
“It would be difficult. But isn’t this enough reason for the Martial Alliance to investigate you further?”
“Tch...”
It was my complete victory.
“You killed Heoil to cover up your crime and quickly close the case. That haste ruined everything.”
“Ha...”
A red aura began to flicker in Cheongcheon’s eyes.
He glared at me as if he wanted to kill me, then spoke in a hoarse voice.
“... Fine. I killed him.”
I thought he would attack immediately, but surprisingly, he admitted it readily.
“He deserved to die.”
“That’s true.”
But I still didn’t know why Cheongcheon had killed Elder Heo.
Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked.
“Can I ask why?”
“Because he was my father.”
“Huh?”
It was a completely unexpected story.
And it contradicted what I knew.
I tilted my head and asked.
“But you were an orphan...”
“I was one of the many illegitimate children he abandoned.”
At that moment, I recalled one of the things Elder Heo had blabbered about at the brothel.
-You think I only sired one brat?!
Cheongcheon seemed to have given up on maintaining his blank expression.
He shrugged and let out a bitter laugh.
“After my mother passed away, I grew up in an orphanage. I studied like crazy. My mother’s dying wish was for me to become a respectable official and live off the state’s salary. But I had no talent for studying, and my body was weak. I often stayed up all night studying, only to collapse with a nosebleed.”
“Where did you get the Blood Rain Demonic Art?”
“... It was when I was kneeling at my mother’s grave, lamenting my fate. I often visited her after she passed. A man in a black hat threw me a manual. He said I’d gain power if I mastered it...”
Cheongcheon said he knew nothing more about the man in the black hat.
He didn’t even know the manual contained the Blood Rain Demonic Art.
After practicing it, his health improved, and his mind became clear.
Within a few years, he passed the exam to become a Podu.
It was after that when Cheongcheon met Elder Heo.
“After becoming a Podu, one day, Elder Heo sought me out. He said I looked just like him when he was young... At first, I thought it was just some bribery attempt. But then he suddenly pulled out a portrait of himself from his youth. It was... like looking in a mirror.”
“...”
After that, Cheongcheon learned that his mother had worked as a maid in Elder Heo’s mansion in the past.
And when she became pregnant, Lady Son, Elder Heo’s concubine at the time, drove her out.
“He knew about it but did nothing. He probably didn’t even care. And then he had the nerve to say I looked just like him when he was young, that I was definitely his son... He hugged me and laughed. That’s when I first thought of killing him.”
“...”
I remained silent, letting him pour out all his pent-up resentment.
Cheongcheon seemed to need someone to listen.
“You know what? That man suffered from dementia.”
“Dementia...?”
“His mind was going. At first, it was mild, but it got worse over time.”
“...”
“Whenever he had time, he’d call me over and ramble about all sorts of things. How he grew up, how he became successful, how many people he’d killed, how many women’s lives he’d ruined... And that man was my father!”
Grinding his teeth, tears of blood streamed from Cheongcheon’s eyes.
“Do you know what the most ridiculous part is? He said he’d leave everything to me and wrote my name in his will.”
“... You had the will?”
“...”
Cheongcheon remained silent.
I asked with a puzzled expression.
“Why did you kill him and create this mess? If you’d waited, Elder Heo’s wealth would have naturally become yours.”
“I don’t care about money. I didn’t want people to know that man was my father! I didn’t want him to be remembered as a good person!”
“That’s...”
Such a reason couldn’t be logically justified.
And on top of that, he had practiced a demonic art that made people more emotional.
“... That’s all I have to say.”
Having spilled everything, Cheongcheon looked somewhat relieved.
I cautiously asked.
“So what will you do now? Will you turn yourself in, or...?”
Before I could finish, Cheongcheon drew his sword and launched a surprise attack.
Swish!
I quickly stepped back.
The blade grazed past my ear.
Cheongcheon, his eyes bloodshot, roared like a beast and charged at me.
“No one must know that man was my father!”
“Wait, let me finish...”
But it seemed he couldn’t hear me.
Cheongcheon swung his sword wildly, attacking fiercely.
The Blood Rain Demonic Art draws on latent energy within the body, temporarily boosting physical abilities and internal energy.
It might sound like some immortality technique, but if it were, it wouldn’t be called a demonic art.
‘It temporarily enhances physical abilities, but it accelerates aging and causes illness with each use.’
In other words, it’s a martial art that trades lifespan for power.
“Aaaah!”
As such, Cheongcheon’s strength, speed, and internal energy now rivaled that of a first-rate expert.
On the other hand, I hadn’t even reached the second level of the Reverse Heaven Divine Art.
I had formed a tiny internal elixir in my dantian, but I couldn’t yet draw on its power.
If I really tried, I could use it, but... there would be side effects.
‘Well, I don’t need to use internal energy in this situation.’
Cheongcheon had clearly practiced his martial arts diligently, but to me, who knew all the techniques of the Blood Rain Demonic Art, he was just flailing around with a sword.
Swish! Whish!
After a few exchanges, I had grasped all of Cheongcheon’s sword techniques.
I closed in and struck several of his pressure points.
Thud!
“...!!”
Cheongcheon’s body stiffened momentarily as his acupoints were struck.
I used his own strength to slam him hard onto the ground.
―Crash!
I mounted Cheongcheon, who was now sprawled on the ground.
I pinned his arms with my knees and pressed my palm against his throat.
Beneath me, Cheongcheon gasped and struggled desperately.
“Kill... me. Just kill me now.”
“Calm down first.”
I loosened my grip slightly on his carotid artery.
Cheongcheon, tears of blood streaming down his face, pleaded.
“I only killed a piece of trash who deserved to die. But the world will remember me as a patricidal monster! So just kill me now. I won’t live long anyway due to the side effects of the demonic art...”
“You’re so impatient. When did I say I’d report you?”
“... What?”
Cheongcheon’s struggling stopped.
I slowly released my arms and stood up.
Cheongcheon also got up, rubbing his reddened neck.
“You’re not... going to report me?”
“Not after seeing what you’ve done.”
“... What do you mean?”
I’m not part of the Martial Alliance.
I’m even less part of the orthodox sects that preach outdated notions of justice.
I believed Cheongcheon had killed people who deserved to die, and I felt no sympathy for them.
More importantly, I was more interested in the spoils than solving this case.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.”
“Why...”
So stunned, Cheongcheon didn’t even notice the change in my tone.
“And I can also eliminate the side effects of the Blood Rain Demonic Art. I can’t restore the lifespan you’ve already lost, but I can minimize the side effects so you can use it safely.”
“How...?”
Because I used to be an instructor for the Blood Cult’s martial arts.
I know almost all of the Blood Cult’s martial arts, and I also know how to handle cases of improper practice or qi deviation.
“In exchange.”
Of course, I wasn’t going to do it for free.
I grinned and proposed a deal to Cheongcheon.
“That will of yours that’s useless to you. How about giving it to me as payment for your life?”