“Leader, the eldest and second sons keep getting summoned by the Cult Leader anyway, and their maternal relatives hold positions of power too. It’s meaningless.”

I put down my cup and stared at the White-Faced Lord.

“Are you testing my patience right now?”

The White-Faced Lord let out a hollow laugh and replied.

“It’s just the truth. You don’t actually intend to let me live, do you? Pouring me a drink like this, sweet-talking me into spilling what you want to know—and once you get it, I’m as good as dead.”

It seemed I still hadn’t persuaded him enough.

“White-Face, listen carefully. You’ve already lost your internal energy. If I wanted to confirm whether your faction is legitimate or even more pathetic than Haomun… I’d just send you back. Let you return and see what happens. Do you think your family would welcome you back?”

“……”

“Your internal energy is gone. You got beaten to a pulp. And word will spread that you were dragged around by the Leader of Haomun. What kind of treatment do you think your family will give you? Think it over. Then answer.”

The White-Faced Lord shut his mouth, seemingly contemplating his situation.

I pointed at him with my finger.

“That’s why I said you were being sent on a journey. If you’ve got any confidence, just go back. But before that, tell me where the antidote is made. If you’ve severed ties with your clan, all the better. I’ll go burn the place down, and you can run back to your people if you want.”

“Why are you so desperate to get rid of that poison?”

It’s a simple matter, really.

If even Moyong Baek considers it a troublesome poison, then it’s best to incinerate it in advance. Whether a martial artist ingests it or a regular person does, it’ll cause problems either way. That was my conclusion. It’s even possible that, once addicted, farmers would line up to offer their rice in exchange for it.

The cult presumed to be the Illusion Demon Sect would grow beyond measure.

“A guy like Byeokgeom isn’t someone who should be under anyone. And yet even he was doing slave work—that alone makes this a serious problem. The Cult Leader could exploit it. I can't ignore it any longer. My patience ends here. Now it’s your turn to talk. I’ll count to three.”

“……”

I decided I’d kill the White-Faced Lord and started folding my fingers.

“One, two, three.”

He spoke.

“It’s in Huashan.”

“Where? There are plenty of mountains called Huashan in the world, you crazy bastard. How the hell am I supposed to find it with that?”

“It’s in Xiyue.”

“So you want me to search every inch of Xiyue?”

“It’s scattered throughout the western side of Huashan, up to Lotus Peak. I’ve never actually been there. Someone manages the site and delivers the goods when it’s time. We just receive them.”

“Why the hell would they make something like that in Xiyue?”

“A long time ago, while the old leaders of the demonic sects were fighting for dominance on Xiyue, they were suddenly wiped out. It’s one of the sacred mountains shunned by demonic sects. There are several places like that. It’s all recorded somewhere, so they still avoid it. But normal people wouldn’t know about it.”

So, even the Cult Leader avoids the place like some sort of superstition.

“Who supposedly killed them?”

“There’s only a nickname left—Guan Yinzi. But no one knows who he really was.”

“And the rest of these sacred mountains your people avoid—where are they?”

“Mount Heng, Songshan, Mount Xing, Mount Tai, and Zhongnan.”

“And why avoid those?”

The White-Faced Lord rubbed his chin and responded.

“Similar reasons as Huashan. They say those mountains are excellent for Daoist training, providing greater benefits in breathing techniques and energy flow. Old martial madmen from the demonic sects tried to seize them, only to end up dead. Some supposedly converted to Buddhism, some were forced to become Daoists. Others got sealed inside caves till they died. A bunch of scattered rumors all snowballed into making the demonic sect folks avoid those mountains altogether.”

I let out a sigh.

“Then the ones making this crap in Huashan aren’t even martial artists. They’re just doing it for money, clueless about what they’re creating.”

“Pretty much.”

“Goddamn messes are happening all over the world.”

From what I’d heard, Huashan and Zhongnan were relatively close, but the rest of the sacred mountains were scattered quite far apart. If this was recorded in demonic sect lore, it had to be from ages ago. Probably not much chance of finding traces of the old masters anymore.

I downed another cup of liquor and gave the White-Faced Lord a task.

“I don’t have the time or energy to go all the way to Huashan right now. I’ll give you three options. Just pick one.”

He glared at me.

“……”

“Don’t like it? Then let’s make it four options and include death.”

“I’ll pick after I hear them.”

I folded one finger.

“How about dying first? You’ll get to see Yeop Yahong again.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Pity. Don’t worry though, you still have three options left.”

I poured him a drink, watching his hands tremble thanks to me.

“Option two: go back to your clan and give a detailed report. Quite a few of your subordinates are dead, right? Report the personnel losses too. Tell them a traitor like Byeokgeom defected to Haomun. Also tell them you lost your internal energy after losing to the Haomun Leader. Why? Because it’s the truth. Make your report accurate, prompt, and without exaggeration. Besides, you’ve got the shakes now. Your former underlings are going to torment you. Want to do that?”

The White-Faced Lord glared at me and replied.

“I’ll pass.”

“Shame. You’d have gotten beaten to a pulp and discarded like dogshit.”

He took the cup with trembling hands and drank.

I asked.

“How many options left?”

“Two.”

“Good. The next one’s a great one. A journey! Let’s take a trip. Sling your bag over green hills, bask in golden sunlight, and head out toward the plains, the valleys, the break of dawn—”

“Cut it out.”

I kept teasing him with a blank face.

“How about it? A winding road, another turn, another cliff. Not interested? Right, if you run into someone like Byeokgeom again, you might get beaten to death. Your martial skills are crap now. You could meet mountain bandits, river pirates, desert raiders… it’ll be quite the trip.”

“……”

“By the way, Haomun already disbanded the Southern Green Forest Gang. So that route’s safe. Not that I cleared it just for you, but it worked out. I also crushed your demonic raider buddies, remember?”

“What’s the final option?”

I nodded and told him.

“Money is a lovely thing. Especially when you’re traveling. I’m busy and can’t go to Huashan myself. You go. Clean up that shithole where they’re making the poison. Burn it down, steal the profits—do whatever you want. That should earn you enough to live on for the next ten or twenty years.”

He stared blankly for a while, then asked:

“What happens after that?”

I replied in a flat tone.

“Not my concern.”

“…Mm.”

“You should live for once the way you want to live. Figure out what’s normal, what’s not. Go where you want. Do what you want. Spend money however you like. Do everything you want—without regrets. And if, after that, you still want to kill me, come find me and take your revenge. If your old faction still matters to you, then go back. If your thinking’s changed and you want to live differently, just bring me a good bottle of liquor and tell me what you’ve been through. But then, don’t come as the White-Faced Lord. Tell me your real name.”

He avoided my gaze, staring blankly out of the empty tavern.

To me, he still looked like a greenhorn who’d never stepped into the real world. Blinking at the sunlight, staring into space. I said to him:

“You were dragged into this battlefield the moment you were born, weren’t you?”

“……”

“I’m giving you a vacation. Go take it.”

He spoke in a different tone this time.

“You’re really letting me live?”

I figured there was no need for more words, so I just gave him a slight nod. His face kept changing expression before he finally stood up.

“In that case, I’ll be going on vacation.”

As he slowly walked to the tavern’s entrance, he called out again.

“Leader.”

“What?”

When I looked up, he clasped his hands in a martial salute.

“I… will go to Huashan.”

Only then did I feel like the bastard had finally understood human language. A deep [N O V E L I G H T] sigh escaped me. I nodded several times and responded briefly.

“Safe travels.”

He bowed slightly.

I watched the White-Faced Lord’s unsteady steps as he set off for Huashan. If he got unlucky, he might get beaten to death. If lucky, he’d arrive safely.

But he didn’t know this yet.

All those merchants walking the land with packs on their backs—those weaklings without a shred of internal energy—are risking their lives every day just to feed their families.

Maybe after he returns from his journey, after his “vacation,” he’ll understand that.

And only then, might he finally free himself from the demonic path.

After he left, I looked around the tavern with a weary heart. I’d only dealt with one demonic sect bastard, but my body and mind were both exhausted.

Suddenly, I locked eyes with Jomsoi, quietly standing near the kitchen.

He asked me:

“Leader, would you like more to drink?”

I nodded, and Jomsoi brought over the jar and poured it himself, then naturally sat across from me. The bastard poured out the White-Faced Lord’s leftover liquor and held out his empty cup.

“Please pour me a drink too.”

Snapping out of my daze, I looked at Jomsoi.

“If you ask, you shall receive. Here.”

“Thank you.”

He took the cup and muttered:

“That stiff bastard only understood your words at the very end. Ugh, listening to that conversation nearly gave me a stroke.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Still, he seemed to be touched by something at the end.”

“That’s good. Let’s drink.”

I drank with Jomsoi. Only then did I feel slightly relieved. Wiping his lips with his sleeve, Jomsoi looked at me with a serious face.

“Leader.”

“What?”

“In my life, I’ve overheard a lot of conversations during drinking sessions, but never one as long, solemn, intriguing, and utterly incomprehensible as the one today. And yet…”

He tapped his chest.

“I understood it in here. You were trying to reach that thick-headed bastard’s heart, no matter what. That really stuck with me.”

I nodded and asked Jomsoi.

“You drunk?”

“Not at all. One more, please.”

“Here.”

I poured him another and asked:

“Do you know who I am?”

“Not really. You’re always called Leader, Leader… So I’m guessing you’re the Leader of Haomun?”

“That’s me.”

“You drunk?”

“Not yet.”

We snickered and passed the drink back and forth. Before long, Jomsoi had emptied my liquor.

“Still, why are there no customers here?”

Jomsoi sighed.

“Beats me.”

I leaned back and threw my legs up on an empty chair.

“Isn’t it your fault? You keep draining the customers’ liquor dry—probably jinxed the place.”

“You might be right. Could be.”

I crossed my arms and yawned long and hard. Jomsoi spoke up.

“No customers around. You should get some sleep.”

“Yeah.”

“How do I join Haomun? Can I?”

“Why would you want to?”

“Huh? I mean, you gave that guy a vacation just now. You seem like a decent guy.”

“I’m not a decent guy.”

“You’re a bad guy?”

“Quite.”

I pulled out my Flash Dagger and waved it toward Jomsoi.

“I’m sleeping.”

I stabbed the dagger into the table and shut my eyes. Jomsoi’s voice followed.

“Sleep well, sir. I’ll keep a strict watch.”

I nodded slightly.

“Confirmed.”

As he walked out of the tavern, I heard him say:

“All right, we’re closed for today.”

Even with my eyes closed, my mind drifted through scattered strategies. I had the thought: To go against the Cult Leader, I need to seize Huashan and Zhongnan.

Of course, it’s not something I can do right now. Every job has its order. If I found a disciple worth teaching someday, maybe I’d train with them in Huashan.

And if that ugly bastard, the demon from my past life, Master Yukhap, was still alive by then…

I might just send him to Zhongnan. After all, if he keeps training, he’ll become a top-level martial master in Jianghu.

And if I drop by Zhongnan every now and then to beat the crap out of him…

He’s already got a filthy temper, so he’ll train even harder out of sheer spite. With the spiritual energy of the sacred mountain supporting him?

He might actually become something.

.

.

.

And if not, I’ll just keep beating him until he does.