Chapter 41: Chapter 41
Maeng Hwi fought his own shrinking and shouted defiantly.
“Are you threatening me right now?!”
You’re the one who started with threats.
“What exactly does the Sixth Young Master think of himself? Remove the Maeng family. Remove the title of Sixth Young Master. Is there anything left?”
“…What more do I need?”
Maeng Hwi asked with round eyes. He genuinely didn’t know. Of course. In the Demonic Cult, he held the rank of First Grade Ghost, a powerful family, and innate talent. He could believe that was everything.
But,
“I believe you’re missing the most important thing.”
Jang I-seo, a Hidden Pavilion spy, thought differently.
“Character.”
“What?”
Not the dignity manufactured by background from birth, but the value one creates as a human being, with oneself as the purpose.
“Live leaning on another’s strength, and you’ll ultimately have to live according to another’s expectations. Let me ask. What kind of person is the Sixth Young Master right now?”
“…Huh?”
“Hiding behind your family’s prestige means you fear that family most of all, doesn’t it? Look at yourself. Are you hunched in its grip? And I’ll say it again. Drop the family threats. They don’t work on me.”
Money, maybe. At Jang I-seo’s words, Maeng Hwi’s focus went blank, as if his mind had left him.
It was a first. The first person to speak to him like this.
Everyone had feared his family. They’d pretended to treat him well because of it. They dealt with his background, not with him as a human being.
And his own father, Maeng Cheol-yong, and the rest of the Maeng family were the same. They’d never treated him as a person.
‘Remember. Without the Cult Leader’s acknowledgment, the Sixth Young Master is nothing.’
They’d treated him only as a scarecrow, existing to earn the Cult Leader’s approval.
But… some adjutant he’d never met. Some lowborn nobody.
Was the first to tell him that was wrong.
“At sunrise tomorrow, go home immediately. If something happens while you stay here, I take no responsibility. This is a warning.”
Jang I-seo turned and went upstairs.
Left alone, Maeng Hwi sat in blank contemplation for a long time.
Until the morning sun rose.
Still blank.
And,
“Bastard… could’ve at least let me sleep inside too.”
Mao, leaning against the wall outside, smirked and passed the long night.
*
The next morning.
Jang I-seo woke early in his new quarters and sat before the long window, sinking into meditation.
The subject was, naturally, finding a clue to cure the Nine-Orifice Body.
‘The dantian exists yet doesn’t exist. An invisible vessel that can’t be touched or seen. Therefore, the only way to grasp its shape is to feel it through the internal energy contained within. Sending awareness through qi and slowly moving it, determining the presence of pathways.’
Yes. Simply put, it was like walking through a cave with one hand pressed to the wall.
He visualized the dantian’s shape this way. And through this method, he’d also discovered the Nine-Orifice Body itself.
‘Therefore, feeling the nine holes, and sealing them, is possible only through internal energy.’
Right. That would be it. Which was why the Heavenly Demon had covered his turbid internal energy with demonic aura.
But how?
How on earth could internal energy seal holes in the dantian? Was he supposed to split qi into thread-like strands and stitch them?
“Huuu…”
A long-held breath escaped. Jang I-seo’s eyes opened slowly.
That was enough meditation for today.
He rose and threw open the wooden window with a bang. Sunlight poured in, revealing the main building and garden in full view.
“At least he tried.”
Smirk. A smile settled on Jang I-seo’s lips.
Because Mao lay spread-eagle in front of the main building. Just yesterday, he’d been glued to the annex, waiting. Jang I-seo had expected him to scheme his way through the night.
From his disheveled clothes, he’d at least made an effort.
“Right. The will to try is half the battle.”
Jang I-seo straightened his clothes and stepped into the corridor. He glanced left and right, surveying the empty rooms. No presence anywhere.
“Did he leave?”
Sixth Young Master Maeng Hwi.
He had looked somewhat young and pitiful. Like a child abandoned in the middle of a desert.
Normally, Jang I-seo would have extended a helping hand, but now wasn’t the time to worry about others.
To make Mao Young Cult Leader, hundreds of mountains stood in their path.
And who was worrying about whom? The Sixth Young Master at least had a family backing him.
“Meanwhile, the so-called older brother is screaming about killing me. Tsk.”
Jang I-seo clicked his tongue and stepped outside the annex. The Sixth Young Master was nowhere to be seen. Probably returned home early.
Meanwhile, Mao was fast asleep, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. He wouldn’t be waking up gently.
“Hmm.”
Looking around, Jang I-seo spotted a gourd basin by the pond. That would do.
He filled it to the brim and stood before Mao. At the presence, Mao rubbed his eyes and stirred.
“What. When did you get… PBUAGH!”
SPLASH!
Cold water drenched his face.
“Wh-what!”
“Wake up.”
“Hey, I’m awake! Can’t you see?”
“I see.”
“Ah, seriously, I swear you’ve got a grudge against me.”
A grudge. Please. It was all love. Jang I-seo smirked and hauled him upright.
Then.
“Good… morning.”
A cute-looking boy offered an awkward greeting from the entrance and stepped inside.
“What do you want, brat. Didn’t you go home?”
Mao raised his eyebrows in suspicion.
Sixth Young Master Maeng Hwi. It was him.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, as if he’d been running up a mountain at dawn.
“Today… I had urgent training to do, so I couldn’t go.”
“Lame.”
Truly a pathetic excuse. As Mao snorted, Maeng Hwi shuffled his feet like a guilty child and stole a glance at Jang I-seo.
In truth, he’d gone all the way to the Horse Grounds before turning back as if possessed. He didn’t even understand why he’d returned. But somehow, he felt he should.
He wanted to stay nearby a little longer and observe. What kind of person was he? Was what he’d said really correct?
‘But what if he just tells me to leave again?’
Like a fool, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.
But,
Oddly, Jang I-seo merely glanced at him once, then turned to Mao with an air of complete disinterest.
“Did you not even make it inside the house last night?”
“You’d have to let me in first! An iron weight falling from the ceiling, darts shooting from the walls. How am I supposed to get through that!”
At least he’d reached the darts. Amid Mao’s grumbling, Jang I-seo strode inside. Mao naturally braced for the massive iron weight to drop from above.
But,
“Huh?”
Jang I-seo walked in, turned to look back at him, and nothing happened.
“What. What’s going on. Did it break?”
Jang I-seo even walked the full length of the corridor and came back outside. Nothing.
It definitely hadn’t been like this before dawn. Bewildered, Mao stepped inside after him.
CLICK. A faint sensation of the floorboard depressing slightly. Then FWOOM! The iron weight plummeted from above.
“AAAAAGH!”
THWACK! Mao took it head-on and bounced out. Before he could face-plant on the ground, Jang I-seo, who’d already launched himself lightly, caught him gently by the waist.
Then he glanced at the main building, jerked his chin, and asked.
“Do you see the difference?”
Yeah. He definitely saw it. Mao nodded and answered.
“The bastard can tell people apart.”
Impossible. Jang I-seo shook his head immediately and glanced at Maeng Hwi.
“Go ahead and enter.”
“Huh? Me? Me?”
“Yes.”
“O-Okay!”
Maeng Hwi nodded vigorously and stepped inside. Wait, why was he following Adjutant Jang’s orders? He felt something was off, but somehow it felt good.
“D-did it work?”
Maeng Hwi reached the entrance, turned, and asked shyly. No iron weight fell this time either.
“See! I told you, it can tell people apart!”
As Mao made a fuss, Jang I-seo pointed at the floorboard where Maeng Hwi had been standing.
“The answer is the weight of your step.”
“Weight?”
Yes. The reason Jang I-seo and Maeng Hwi could pass, but Mao couldn’t.
It was the weight of their footsteps.
“You can come out now.”
At Jang I-seo’s word, Maeng Hwi walked out soundlessly. Considering he was only fifteen, from fundamentals to realm, everything was extraordinary.
“What do you mean, weight? What are you talking about.”
Mao pressed for an answer, looking dizzy.
“There are only two ways for the Seventh Young Master to safely complete the Cult Leader’s homework in one month. One is to learn a peerless footwork technique.”
Footwork.
Yes. The most fundamental element of martial arts was the movement of the feet.
Without footwork, no matter how excellent the martial art, it couldn’t reach its full potential, nor could one escape danger.
So mastering footwork was the easiest way to dodge the Cult Leader’s finger wind.
“Peerless footwork! Let’s do that. I’ve got the feel. Look. Check out these feet. Got the groove, right?”
Mao shuffled his feet alternately, bouncing around clumsily.
“Impossible.”
“Ah, why!”
Naturally, learning footwork was the best method, but reaching a level capable of dodging the Heavenly Demon’s finger wind within a month was impossible.
One option remained.
Controlling the body’s weight.
The Room of No Rest existed precisely to teach Mao that foundation.
“Even if you learned a martial art, one month isn’t enough time. So sharpening your senses, eliminating the weight of your steps, and pushing agility to its limit is the best option.”
“Eliminating weight… is that even possible?”
FWIP! Seeing is believing. Jang I-seo’s form vanished and appeared atop Mao’s shoulder in an instant.
Wow. Maeng Hwi marveled at the speed. Mao panicked and expressed extreme displeasure.
“What. Feels incredibly unpleasant.”
“Do you feel my weight?”
“Yeah. Kind of heavy?”
“No. The Seventh Young Master didn’t feel it. I just moved from your shoulder to the top of your head.”
“What the fuck!”
Tuk. Jang I-seo landed on the ground. Mao screamed about contamination and patted his head vigorously.
But honestly, he was surprised.
Because whether Jang I-seo stood on his shoulder or shifted to his head, he hadn’t felt any weight.
“Wow…”
This was territory that remained impossible for even Maeng Hwi. Genuine admiration erupted.
“Internal energy isn’t simply about emission. It’s far more complex and profound. For instance, you can send qi to your limbs to add weight. Conversely, you can scatter the qi that gathers with each step, eliminating it entirely.”
“The principle of the Thousand-Caton Hammer!”
Maeng Hwi, who’d sat down beside Mao at some point, raised his hand and shouted.
Right. Correct answer.