“Lord Yi, I’ve returned.”

“Welcome back, Master.”

Moyong Baek, who had reappeared after two days of treating Byeokgeom, looked even more worn down than I expected.

Concerned, I asked, “Did you get any sleep?”

Moyong Baek sat beside me with a heavy sigh.

“No. I’ve been so focused on this case that sleep didn’t come at all. I thought I’d speak with you first before trying to rest.”

Not a report—but a discussion? That meant there was more to it than symptoms.

I sensed something behind his words and fell silent, letting him speak when he was ready.

He first apologized.

“I may fumble my words. I’m a bit sleep-deprived.”

“That’s fine. I always fumble mine.”

“Yes…”

He looked me over, then asked, “Did you sleep at all?”

“I did some breathing exercises. Gotta get it in when I can. Never know when the next fight’ll hit, so even sleep feels like a waste.”

Moyong Baek looked at me, sympathy written all over his face.

“Kindred spirits, it seems.”

“Exactly.”

“You should still rest, Lord Yi. There’s no medicine for lack of sleep.”

“Say that to yourself, not me.”

“...Right.”

We both sighed at the same time, and then he muttered something out of nowhere.

“…I’m suddenly feeling angry.”

That hit a nerve.

“Yeah. Sleep deprivation does that.”

He took a deep breath and asked, “Where did I leave off?”

In a calm tone, I said, “If I recall correctly, you haven’t explained anything yet.”

“Ah. Then I’ll begin.”

I nodded, arms folded.

“On the first day, I told Byeokgeom not to tell me anything. I began the diagnosis with zero information—only the assumption of poisoning.”

“A logical approach.”

“I spent an entire day running tests. Every method I knew. But I couldn’t confirm any signs of poison.”

“So his body appeared perfectly normal?”

“Yes. Despite everything I tried. By the end of day one, I admitted defeat. If this is poison, it’s beyond me.”

“I see.”

“On the second day, I gathered information. I asked about the poison, the antidote, the effects, the timing, how it felt. He said he took the poison once, then the antidote every thirty days. He received three pills at a time—so if he doesn’t get new ones within ninety days, he dies horribly. Lord Yi, do you see anything strange about that?”

I paused, then asked, “Did he say… he actually saw someone die like that?”

“Yes.”

“Then I won’t press that part. Go on.”

“The man who died from missing his antidote—his body exploded.”

“Exploded?”

Moyong Baek nodded.

“To summarize, Byeokgeom’s story doesn’t add up. I believe the first dose wasn’t poison at all.”

In a flat tone, I asked, “So was the antidote the poison?”

“It’s more complicated. The ‘antidote’ is actually a highly addictive drug. From what he described, the initial dose likely caused hallucinations. Then, every thirty days, he took this so-called antidote—but it induced withdrawal if skipped. Psychological torment. Delusions. Terror. It’s a formula designed to make them dependent on the organization.”

“They’re even more twisted than we expected.”

“Yes. For those who showed loyalty, they gave five or six pills instead of three—making it seem like a reward.”

I stared at Moyong Baek.

“So what we really need to confirm… is the cause of that exploding corpse’s death.”

“Exactly.”

“And that won’t be easy, will it?”

“No.”

That’s when I realized the depth of the problem.

“So your concern is that all of this is still just your hypothesis. Meaning Byeokgeom might break—and run back to them.”

“Correct. If he doesn't get another dose, he may self-harm, betray us, or go crawling back to them in desperation.”

I rubbed my arm.

“Damn. These bastards are on another level. And worst of all… he wants the poison.”

“Yes.”

I looked into Moyong Baek’s exhausted face. The kind of mental strain it took to reach this conclusion must’ve been immense.

“If he spirals, he’s going to hate us for it.”

“He will.”

In a solemn tone, he added, “I’ve glimpsed a new frontier of poison—one that makes the body crave it. That’s terrifying.”

“If someone wants to consume it, then it’s no longer a poison. It’s a drug. For now, let’s call it narcotic poison—just to communicate clearly.”

“An apt term, Lord Yi.”

I thought for a moment, then asked, “Was there more that led you to this deduction?”

Moyong Baek looked a little surprised.

“Yes. It’s about production efficiency. From what I gather, many martial artists are using this substance. If they were using a truly high-grade poison, they’d need immense resources.”

“Right.”

“But didn’t you say the organization is gathering money? That doesn’t match.”

“Spending all their funds producing elite poison wouldn’t be profitable.”

“Exactly. But they keep distributing this ‘antidote’ freely. That means the cost is low. Which leads me to believe—this drug is mass-produced, cheap, and already stockpiled. That’s why it’s the bigger issue.”

I nodded.

“Agreed.”

Same conclusion on my end. I exhaled and looked at the man beside me.

Without Moyong Baek… I wouldn’t even know what battle I was fighting.

He said, “I’ve figured out the situation, but I don’t know what to say to Byeokgeom. So I came to consult with you.”

“How much time does he have left before his next dose?”

“About ten days. He was promised a fresh supply if he succeeded in killing you.”

“What do we do?”

“Master Moyong.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve got nothing. No tricks this time.”

“Hm.”

“When you run out of options, all you can do is tell the truth. Tell him our theory: what he’s been taking isn’t an antidote. It’s a drug. If he stops, the withdrawal will be brutal. Hell, we might be wrong entirely. Either way—tell him everything.”

Moyong Baek nodded.

“He might understand now, while he’s stable. But once withdrawal kicks in… anything could happen. If you ask me, that man who exploded? Probably died from a different poison—fed to him as a warning to others during withdrawal.”

“These bastards… They’re truly demonic.”

Whether the Third Prince eventually becomes one of the Five Evils is uncertain—but he already qualifies.

He’s the Cult Leader’s son. What could possibly restrain him?

In hindsight, the old Cult Leader who warred with his successors had more humanity. These new heirs, raised by a man who abandoned his own humanity, might turn out even worse.

They already have.

There’s no honor. No martial virtue. Just cruelty.

“Truly, a lineage of the unholy path… That whole maternal clan of his.”

“Yes.”

“Where’s Byeokgeom?”

Moyong Baek pointed to the outer hall.

“Treatment would be meaningless, so he’s with his guards.”

“Call him in. And you—get some rest. No matter what we decide, I’ll update you.”

“Understood.”

He stood, sighed, and said,

“Lord Yi…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m furious. I suppose this is what they call ‘rage,’ isn’t it?”

I responded in the calmest tone I could muster.

“That’s a natural reaction. Anyone who sees what’s going on would be angry. You don’t have to suppress that. I’ll destroy them. Just focus on taking care of yourself.”

“Yes…”

He paused, then asked,

“How do you endure it? These emotions?”

“Me? I had your help, didn’t I?”

He nodded.

“I see.”

As I watched him slowly walk away, shoulders heavy, I called out to him.

“Master.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t fall too deep into those emotions… or you’ll end up like me.”

He smiled faintly.

“Understood.”

***

Byeokgeom entered, visibly tense. I scratched the back of my neck and pointed to the seat Moyong Baek had vacated.

“Sit.”

“Yes.”

I stared at him for a while, then asked,

“What did Master Moyong say?”

“Nothing specific. He just sighed a lot.”

His tone was more respectful now.

“I see. Then let me explain clearly. That damn Third Prince… gave you hell.”

Byeokgeom stared hard at me.

“You mean… there’s no cure?”

I shook my head.

“Let me explain what Moyong Baek and I believe. The first thing you took wasn’t poison. It was a drug that caused brief hallucinations. You never needed an antidote.”

Byeokgeom’s face paled.

“The so-called ‘antidote’ is actually a narcotic. If you stop taking it, the withdrawal will be agonizing. You don’t need the antidote. But now you’re stuck needing it. Understand?”

“Yes…”

I asked the only question that mattered.

“So… what do you want to do?”

“…What?”

“That bastard handed you hell on a silver platter. What do you want to do with it?”

“Is there… really no chance it’s actual poison?”

“Highly unlikely. Because of money. They mass-produced this ‘antidote’ and fed it to you guys. And what did they use you for? Making more money.”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re worth less than gold to them. You were tools, not people. They wouldn’t waste real poison on you. The ones who became addicts? They probably killed them quietly. Or pinned crimes on them and disposed of them. Or showed one or two gruesome deaths just to scare the rest of you.”

Byeokgeom’s eyes darkened. Then he smiled strangely.

“I want to kill them all.”

“Same here.”

He looked at me dead-on.

“Lord Yi… please help me.”

I nodded.

“I have plenty of subordinates, but for this mission, you decide. You know them better. Find the most efficient route, and I’ll back you.”

He said,

“The White-Faced Noble will come soon to deliver the antidote. We either capture him and torture him, or follow him to their base. That’s where they’re producing the drug. We kill them all. Burn everything.”

I nodded.

“Even if we do all that… your suffering won’t end. Honestly, we have no idea how bad it’ll get. Moyong Baek says even missing one ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) day is torture. And your cycle’s been getting shorter.”

Byeokgeom folded his arms and stared at the table.

“I’ll endure it.”

He said it plainly—but then tears began to fall. His face showed no emotion, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

He was remembering the pain of withdrawal.

He looked at me again.

“Lord Yi… I’ll endure it. I can’t die like this.”

“Don’t be too afraid. We’ll work with Moyong Baek—try fighting poison with poison, if it helps. How long until withdrawal starts?”

“Still… more than ten days.”

I ran a hand through my hair—and ended up yanking out a bunch.

“So… first, we catch the White-Faced Noble.”

Looking at my hand, I saw a terrifying amount of hair.

“…I swear, I’m going bald.”

I’d already lived a life where I wasn’t popular with beautiful women.

Now I was losing my hair fighting the demonic path.

That’s me—a man whose hair falls battling demons.

“Byeokgeom.”

“Yes?”

“You’re not the only one who’s angry. Master Moyong was furious too. He hasn’t slept in two days.”

“Really? I’ve been napping on and off. I didn’t know.”

“Whatever happens—get along with Haomun’s people. That’s an order.”

“Understood.”

I crossed my arms and muttered,

“Feeding narcotics to martial artists, robbing Moyong of his rest, and making my hair fall out… For those crimes, I’ll send those bastards straight to hell.”

On the day my hair fell like snow,

My peace was blown away like ashes in the wind.