Chapter 23: Chapter 23
“Tell me what you want. You did well, so a reward is due.”
Sa Hae-ryeong broached the subject quietly. Honestly, she’d never said anything like this to anyone. Not even to Narak. There was simply something endearing about watching this man called Jang I-seo claw his way forward, little by little, through impossible circumstances. That was why she’d mustered her meager courage and offered.
“Well. You’ll give me anything if I say it?”
A loaded question. Sa Hae-ryeong weighed him with her gaze and replied.
“Excessive greed invites disaster. But if you’re confident you can bear the responsibility, there’s nothing I can’t give.”
“Music to my ears. I usually like danger. But not now. Later. When I really need it, I’ll bring it up.”
“So you intend to leave a debt outstanding. I don’t love that. But since I was the one who asked, I’ll humor you this once.”
“Oh, how accommodating.”
Sa Hae-ryeong snorted and turned her head. She poured her own cup and emptied it again.
Watching her, Jang I-seo thought what a remarkable woman she was. This was a potent spirit that would challenge even seasoned drinkers. She wasn’t using internal energy to neutralize the alcohol, yet she downed it like water.
After a few more cups, Sa Hae-ryeong suddenly asked an unexpected question.
“What’s your relationship with that proprietress?”
Who? Hong-ran? Was it the drink? Her face, chin propped on her hand as she turned, looked faintly flushed.
“Well, I’d say she scratches where it itches.”
“Hmph, men…”
“Are you jealous, by any chance?”
At the blunt question, Sa Hae-ryeong gazed at Jang I-seo through narrowed eyes. Then she spoke softly.
“…Here in Cheonsan, even a woman can keep ten men if she has the power. So if you’re curious, keep asking. Stripping one like you bare is nothing.”
“Wow…”
“What kind of reaction is that?”
“I was so terrified I forgot what I was going to say.”
“Hmph. I’m saying a man like you is nothing to me. Clear away any useless misunderstandings.”
Right. She certainly looked the part. Jang I-seo shrugged and tossed back his drink. Sa Hae-ryeong rose from her seat.
“Leaving already?”
“I’ve stayed long.”
She meant it. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d lingered at a drinking gathering this long. Always pressed with work, it had been even longer.
Jang I-seo rose to see her off, but she raised a hand to stop him. Standing at the top of the stairs, she spoke.
“The Cult Leader holds a private breakfast with each of his children in turn. A regular meeting. In fifteen days, it’s the Seventh Young Master’s turn. Did you know?”
“Hmm.”
Jang I-seo answered with a sigh instead of words.
He had known. That Cult Leader Jin U-gwang spent time with his adopted children. But “breakfast” was a generous term. It was a major event where past achievements were evaluated and guidance was imparted.
Naturally, not knowing the enemy commander’s official schedule as a spy was blatant negligence.
“No, I didn’t know.”
But Jang I-seo shook his head with shameless ease. Sa Hae-ryeong, as if she’d expected as much, looked toward Mao in the distance and replied.
“I imagine they never told you.”
From her expression, there was something else he didn’t know. Had he been dodging even breakfasts with the Cult Leader? That was truly rock bottom. Jang I-seo furrowed his brow and answered.
“Don’t worry. I’ll definitely attend.”
If nothing else, crossing the Heavenly Demon’s wishes was out of the question now.
And inwardly, his heart raced at the thought of meeting him.
The Heavenly Demon, Jin U-gwang.
The undisputed greatest under heaven in this era.
Setting aside being a spy, it would be a lie to say he had no interest in the man as a martial artist.
But,
“Don’t go.”
From her lips came a statement he couldn’t begin to understand.
“Don’t go?”
“I mean you should enter secluded cultivation instead and push it to the next opportunity.”
“What are you talking about? Explain so I can understand.”
“Not everyone who goes gets to meet the Cult Leader.”
“Then?”
“…You have to open the doors of the Heavenly Demon Palace yourself. And the Seventh Young Master is the only one who has never once opened them.”
“What?”
What was this? Never opened the doors? That meant he’d never met the Cult Leader face to face?
Too stunned to speak, he stared at her. She trailed off, her concern evident.
“And if he fails to enter this time as well… perhaps… his qualification may be revoked. If even the title of Seventh Young Master is stripped away, Mao will… struggle to survive.”
Hah. A breath of disbelief escaped Jang I-seo. Revoked? That was going too far. But no matter how he studied her, he saw no malice. And she had no reason for any.
“That’s all I can tell you. Farewell.”
Footstep, footstep.
Sa Hae-ryeong descended the stairs and disappeared. Jang I-seo stared blankly at Mao, who was foolishly dancing below, blissfully ignorant.
“Never opened the doors? Why.”
He didn’t know. But one thing was certain.
The next mission was the regular meeting hosted by the Heavenly Demon, Jin U-gwang.
Getting Mao through those doors.
By any means necessary.
*
The grand feast ended, and the next day arrived.
FWAAASH!
Jang I-seo threw open the windows of the Seventh Small Palace as usual. But unlike yesterday’s clear skies, a steady rain fell today. It showed no sign of stopping, the drumming loud enough to be intrusive.
*Smack, smack.*
But Mao remained dead to the world. Watching him, Jang I-seo leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and let out an amused breath.
Of course he was exhausted. Mao had stayed to the very end, drinking with the cult members.
That had been genuinely commendable.
Was this what they called laying the groundwork? The Demonic Cult’s shit-for-brings elites considered it a grand act of grace merely to exchange words with commoners.
‘In that regard, maybe this idiot is actually better.’
At least Mao, good-for-nothing or not, didn’t judge people by their rank.
‘I won’t wake you until you rise on your own today.’
Jang I-seo wore a gentle expression and stepped back.
“Urgh… poo… poo-poo…! Argh! Fuck! Y-you… What! Why is the window open, you psycho! Rain’s splashing all over my face!”
He hadn’t said anything about shielding him from the rain.
“Let’s talk.”
*
Jang I-seo and Mao sat across from each other with a table between them.
Originally, the reception room had been filled with expensive paintings and all manner of ornaments. Now everything had been sold off, leaving only a few flower pots in an empty space.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Skipping the pleasantries, straight to the point. Naturally, from Mao’s perspective, this came out of nowhere.
“Tell you what?”
Playing dumb. Jang I-seo fixed him with a sharp gaze and dropped it.
“In fifteen days. The breakfast with the Cult Leader.”
His face hardened the instant he heard. It seemed to have been weighing on his mind too.
“…Do I have to spell out everything?”
“No need, obviously. Finding out is my job.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“You said you’ve never once opened the doors of the Heavenly Demon Palace. You should have told me that. Why? Were you planning to embarrass me this time too?”
“That’s…!”
Mao worked his jaw, then glared and challenged.
“Why do you keep speaking informally?”
“When did I. And don’t change the subject. Why haven’t you opened the doors? Don’t want to eat? No appetite in the morning? Want to try fasting for a few days?”
“Hey!”
That was the last straw. Mao surged to his feet, radiating killing intent. But his opponent was Jang I-seo. “Hey?” He rose to match, eyes raking him up and down with contempt.
Mao let out a heavy sigh, whipped his head aside, and muttered low.
“I didn’t open them.”
“Then.”
“I couldn’t open them.”
“So why. Did someone stop you?”
“No. I don’t know how to open them, so I couldn’t.”
“What?”
“I said I don’t know how to open the door!”
Jang I-seo blinked three or four times. Had he misheard? Opening a door was simple. Push sideways, push forward, or pull. Even a three-year-old could manage that.
“The door’s hard to open.”
No, this bastard. Maybe a beating would make it easier.
“Come here. I’ll teach you.”
Jang I-seo radiated killing intent and took a long stride forward. Mao recoiled with a yelp and shouted.
“I don’t know! I really don’t know, you bastard!”
“Which is why I’m offering to teach!”
“No, fuck! Someone’s done something weird to the door, I’m telling you! No matter how much you push or pull or whatever, it won’t open!”
“What…?”
Jang I-seo stopped in his tracks, stunned. Only then did Mao calm his racing heart and speak with a tearful expression.
“You think I didn’t want to eat? And… who’s speaking informally, you piece of shit?”
Jang I-seo narrowed his brow.
The Heavenly Demon Palace.
What on earth was inside?
SLAM! He threw the door open and stepped outside.
*
The Heavenly Demon Palace.
The heart of Cheonsan, where the Heavenly Demon resided.
Those who truly understood this place, which seemed like the birthplace of every conspiracy in the world, were exceedingly few.
How few? When Jegal So-mi asked her grandfather, the greatest mind under heaven Jegal Sang, what the Heavenly Demon Palace was like, he answered that it sat above dark clouds.
Meaning it could neither be seen nor reached, and inquiring about it would only earn you a lightning strike.
Even in an era when spies ran rampant, the Heavenly Demon Palace remained the most secretive place in the world.
And that held true even for Jang I-seo, a veteran spy in his fourteenth year inside the Demonic Cult.
That was why he’d walked all the way here on a day when rain poured in torrents.
【Jegal Bookshop】
Among everyone Jang I-seo knew, this was the most knowledgeable and accessible source on the Demonic Cult. If anyone could identify what Mao was talking about, it was him.
Creeeak.
“Is the owner in?”
When Jang I-seo opened the door, the damp smell of the weathered bookshop greeted him first. He shook the rain from his outer robe outside, then stepped forward.
A middle-aged man wearing a scholar’s cap, reminiscent of Zhuge Liang, rested his chin on folded arms at the counter, eyes closed.
Jegal Gwi-ryong. The owner here, whose real name was Bang Gwi-ryong of the Bang family.
“Are you sleeping?”
Tap, tap. Jang I-seo approached and rapped the counter. Not a twitch. Sleeping like the dead. He could be carried off without waking.
“Hmm. Doesn’t look like he’s sleeping.”
Jang I-seo smirked. He was the Hidden Pavilion’s finest operative. This level of discernment was nothing.
The breathing was too even, and the Adam’s apple bobbed intermittently. Could someone deeply asleep swallow so precisely? Obviously not.
Moreover, people consumed by greed naturally slept less and had sharp ears. Sensitive to everything. He should know.
“Stop pretending to sleep and get up.”
When Jang I-seo needled him, the man suddenly mumbled in his sleep and buried his face in his arms, slumping further.
“All-night… job… fatigue…”
“What are you even saying? What’s wrong with you? It’s me. Jang I-seo.”
Jang I-seo shook Jegal Gwi-ryong’s body. Instead of letting go, the man’s shoulder shrugged as if to brush him off. Baffled, Jang I-seo released him and blinked.
‘What is wrong with this man? Is he doing this on purpose?’
He looked behind him. No one else was there. The man was clearly distancing himself. Could you really treat a regular customer of seven years like this?
Annoyed, Jang I-seo stared at the back of his head, then pulled a horseshoe-shaped silver ingot from his robes and set it down with a clink. Heavy. Worth about forty or fifty nyang of silver.
“Go… away…”
Oh yeah? Clack. Then here’s one more.
“Go… hmm…”
A nibble. Jegal Gwi-ryong twitched this time.
“If you don’t get up this time, I’m leaving.”
Jang I-seo delivered the line coldly and clack! Set down one more. Three silver ingots. An enormous sum.
A moment later.
Shlk. Jegal Gwi-ryong’s weathered hand swept the silver ingots into his robes.
Pfft. The dog took the bait.