I’m someone who hates a lot of things.

But the /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ thing I hate the most? Tribute payments being swallowed up by scumbags in the black groups.

Probably because I used to work as a jomsoi.

Wipe the tables, pick up fallen side dishes, mop the floor, wash dishes, prep ingredients, cook, and sell it all to scrape together money. Do that for ten days straight, and you’ve got enough for tribute.

You do all the work, and someone else takes all the money.

You get used to it eventually. You adjust. But what really pisses you off is when that tribute suddenly goes up. Then you have to do fifteen days of that grind to pay it off.

That’s when life starts to feel hollow. That’s when you discover the emotion called rage.

At its root, my rage comes from tribute payments.

The only real way to deal with it is through martial arts.

In the end, the bastards who used to feast on those payments died by my hand in my past life—and this life is no different.

I’d love to find another solution, but there really isn’t one.

Just kill and kill again until I become infamous…

A while later, I stood with a gang of flunkies in front of the Woonwol Brotherhood’s hideout.

Big and small buildings were strung out along the lakefront in a long line. The guy who’d guided me pointed to the center.

“The one with five red lanterns hanging out front—that’s where the boss lives.”

“Got it.”

There were a lot of people outside, and they were all staring at me. Someone from the Woonwol Brotherhood called out.

“Why’d you bring an escort here?”

I turned to the flunkies.

“Go clean up that corpse. Unless you wanna die too—then stick around.”

They hesitated, then turned around without a word and left. I started walking down the stone path and said to the guys outside,

“I want to meet your boss. Take me to him.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, followed by a short reply.

“Get lost.”

“Who said that? The one who told me to get lost.”

One guy sitting on a chair, skewering something and eating it, spat on the ground.

“Escort bastard’s lost his damn mind.”

I walked up to the one who spat, and I could hear blades being drawn from all directions.

I stared at the grease around the guy’s mouth and asked,

“Good food?”

“You from Blue-Eyed Escort Bureau or something? You crazy?”

I grabbed him by the collar and lifted him with one hand.

“Kegh—”

Just then, a skinny man stormed out from inside and looked around.

“What’s going on?”

“Says he’s from Blue-Eyed Escort Bureau. Wants to see the boss.”

“An escort? Not even a Bureau Master or Chief Escort, just a low-level escort?”

I let go of the guy’s collar and slapped him across the face with the back of my hand. The guy who’d been eating chicken skewers collapsed, unconscious.

I said to the skinny guy,

“I’m from Ilwido River Crossing. Take me in.”

The moment I said Ilwido River Crossing, the skinny guy’s expression changed.

“The deal’s done. What are you here for now?”

“I’ve got business. Let’s go.”

“Wait here. I’ll inform him.”

I looked around, and finally, the flunkies’ expressions settled down. A moment later, the door opened, and the skinny guy said,

“Come in.”

***

I was led through the guest hall and the back door to a spot with a view of the lake. At the end of a dock was what looked like a fishing pier. A few of their higher-ups were sitting around fishing, and the biggest platform was occupied by one man.

As I walked across the bridge, I passed the fishing lieutenants and stepped onto the dock. The guy on the biggest one turned slightly.

“I’m Byeok Sa-un. Have a seat.”

There was a small stool next to him.

Since he offered me a seat, I didn’t take it.

He was eyeing me up and down like some old catfish. With those unusually thick lips and the thin mustache, he looked like a catfish demon that’d lived in this lake for decades.

“You’re the boss? You look like a catfish.”

“…”

He gave a baffled sigh and stared at me.

“Did you come here to die? You’re not Ilwido River Crossing. That sword doesn’t suit a killer, and it doesn’t fit the Escort Bureau either. Where are you from?”

Despite how he looked, he seemed sharp. That made things a little easier.

“I lead Haomun. Ever heard of it?”

“Haomun? Never.”

“I’m looking for Ilwido River Crossing.”

“If you could just find them by looking, they wouldn’t be an assassin organization, would they?”

“How do you contact them?”

“The method’s simple, but it won’t help. The lower guys don’t know the real base anyway. Torture won’t get you anywhere. That’s the whole point—they don’t know. The structure is person-to-person. You only know your direct superior. If you want to find the top, you’ll have to lure them out and kill them one by one. Can you really do that? You seem busy enough already. And even if you manage to get up a few levels, I guarantee the chain will break. Their fees are high, and they’re tough to deal with.”

Why was this guy being so helpful?

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

He must’ve seen Haomun as just another black group.

I could feel a murderous aura from the lieutenants up on the bridge now.

Byeok Sa-un asked calmly,

“Then your business is done?”

I shook my head.

“Not yet.”

“Then speak.”

“This trade district here… it’s doing pretty well.”

“It’s not bad.”

“You taking tribute payments?”

“Call it protection money.”

“Protecting from who?”

“From whoever, really. Whether I’m here or not, black groups will always rise up. I was born and raised here. Better me than someone worse. Some people can live normal lives. Others can’t. So I collect and use that money to keep the district safe. Doesn’t seem that strange, does it? What do you think, young brother?”

“…Wow.”

A speech. Haven’t heard one of those in a while.

I could’ve handled this with martial arts, but I don’t lose to words either.

“You’re doing great work. I’m sure the people I’ve killed said the same thing. Only difference is the method. The moment I got here, someone tried to pickpocket me. Turns out they pay tribute to you.”

“Ah, is that so.”

“I guess they rob escorts, travelers, outsiders—anyone they can to scrape together tribute. The food here tastes like trash, and the tea’s like sewage. You talk like it’s all natural, but none of it is. You sit here fishing like some enlightened sage…”

Byeok Sa-un just laughed.

“I’d love to know how many big shots you’ve killed to act this cocky.”

I glanced back—every one of those fishing lieutenants was now on their feet, blocking the entrance of the bridge and staring at me.

If I said I killed the Sword-Breaking Society leader, they’d probably panic—but I didn’t bother. Instead, I gave them one more chance.

“I didn’t come to make requests. Wake up, catfish. Disband the Brotherhood.”

Byeok Sa-un stood up from his chair and suddenly shouted out toward the lake.

“Hey, you son of a bitch!”

Seems like the man’s losing it. I’ve seen all kinds of madness, so this wasn’t even that surprising.

He glared at me with a face he thought looked scary and yelled,

“What’s your problem, huh? What the hell’s wrong with you?”

The moment Byeok Sa-un pulled a hidden dagger from his sleeve and slashed at my throat, I grabbed his wrist—and went completely blank for a second.

What the hell? This guy’s garbage.

I crushed his wrist with a mix of internal energy and brute force. I heard bones shatter like twigs. As he screamed, I kicked him into the air over the lake and drew Black Rabbit Fang.

In one smooth motion, I cut Byeok Sa-un midair like tofu, then slid the blade back into its sheath.

His body split in two and fell into the lake, sending twin jets of water up like a pair of dragons.

Hearing footsteps, I turned to see his subordinates with swords drawn, all frozen mid-approach.

“…”

I said to the flunkies,

“You lunatics… were you about to charge me? Go on, try it.”

I stood still. A tense silence settled over the dock. I already knew black groups varied wildly in strength depending on the region, but Byeok Sa-un? He wasn’t even on Cha Seong-tae’s level.

Still, I’m strong—not because Cha Seong-tae was weak.

As his henchmen hesitated, I sat down in Byeok Sa-un’s chair and picked up his fishing rod.

His sword-wielding lackeys glared at me from behind.

I stared down at the fishing rod and spoke.

“Boys… when someone gives you a chance to live, take it.”

The catfish’s lackeys behind me were deep in thought. But unless they were complete morons, they’d just witnessed the overwhelming gap between our strengths—they wouldn’t move rashly.

Whatever they were thinking, I went on.

“Byeok Sa-un’s probably fish food by now, but let’s say he’s still alive. I’ve got a job for Ilwido River Crossing. Get in touch and bring them here.”

No one responded.

“Who the hell am I talking to right now?”

I stood and looked around at the so-called “brothers” of the Woonwol Brotherhood.

“Hey, boys…”

Technically, I’m too old to be calling them that. But ever since I became the Crazy Demon, I haven’t really used honorifics for anyone. Maybe if I ran into someone like the Sword Demon, I’d consider it.

“If Byeok Sa-un’s death breaks your heart, come get your revenge anytime. But if you don’t plan to, then I’ve got two jobs for you. First, contact Ilwido River Crossing and bring them to me. Second, if you spot Nam Cheon-yeong’s forces heading north, report it to me immediately.”

One of them asked,

“Who… exactly are you?”

“The guy who killed your boss.”

You have to show a bit of generosity to subordinates. To help them think straight, I gave them another little piece of info.

“By the way, the Sword-Breaking Society’s boss died by my hand too. So if any of you are thinking of revenge… you’re out of your mind.”

Only then did I start taking a good look at the flunkies’ faces.

There was Catfish’s buddy, Goby, a guy with tiny eyes like a toad, and one long-limbed dude who looked like a water strider.

Those four looked like the strongest of the bunch.

Among the lakeside thugs who had been locked in a long staring match with me, the water strider finally spoke.

“We’ll look into it and let you know.”

“What’s the water strider’s name?”

“I’m Woo Cheol-jin.”

“You second-in-command?”

“Yes.”

“Then once I leave, you’re number one. If you don’t want to die, cooperate.”

Woo Cheol-jin gave a small nod.

“Yes.”

I didn’t give them any more detailed orders. Just turned back and picked up the fishing rod again. I'd killed one underling and one boss here at Jeongpyeong Lake—not exactly what I’d planned, but I didn’t regret it. Back when I was still the Crazy Demon, I’d have wiped out twenty or thirty of them just to make a point, but today I stopped at two. Honestly, I’ve grown.

People change. That’s just how it is.

My gaze followed the lake surface upward, and I noticed the sky had darkened. A pale moon hung overhead. The sun had clocked out early, and the moon was working overtime.

Staring at the lake, the moon, and the bleeding sunset, a rare thought flickered in my head.

Loneliness.

I’ve grown numb to loneliness over the years. You can’t help it when your family leaves you early in life.

But that doesn’t mean I never feel it.

I’ve always been this way. One moment like this, the next like that.

To be honest, even meeting a woman is hard for me.

I used to dream of meeting a beautiful, normal woman—even in my past life…

But the thought of starting a family still terrifies me. In my past life and in this one, that fear runs deep.

According to the few friends I had in my previous life, I’ve got high standards.

She has to be pretty—by my standards, which already narrows the field.

She has to be strong in martial arts—so yeah, nearly impossible.

Sure, there are women in Jianghu who are both beautiful and powerful…

But none of them have any reason to like me.

I already confirmed that in my past life.

The fishing rod gave a sudden twitch. When I reeled it in with a bit too much force, a huge, jet-black catfish came flying straight at my face, mouth gaping.

I slapped it across the cheek and sent it flying back into the lake.

“Shit—scared the hell out of me.”

You can’t kill two catfish in a day.

A man growing more merciful by the day—that’s me.

Out of nowhere, I found myself repeating the phrase I used to mumble all the time back when Gwangseung was slaughtering Jianghu fighters like weeds.

Glory to Amitabha.
Time for the Asura’s wrath.
I am the lion of Dainichi Nyorai.
Heir of Acala, the Immovable Wisdom King.
Die.

.

.

.

I stared at the lake and let out a faint laugh.

“Die.”