episode_0021

I completed the class change quest. My job title was, none other than, the Bloodline Pavilion Master. And I gained spoils of war. They were none other than countless demonic cultivators. Cheongun couldn’t help but be excited. Having completely swallowed the Demonic Cult’s branch and acquired so many demonic cultivators, if he focused solely on martial arts training for a while, he would achieve considerable results.

And the information he had just obtained. Even if one lost their demonic martial arts, even if they lost all their martial arts, once a demonic cultivator, always a demonic cultivator. This was good news for Cheongun. Because the scope for being classified as a demonic cultivator had widened.

Though he wanted to check various other things, Cheongun simply filled his Dantian with natural energy and left the Geumok.

Once one had taken over a force, there was something that must be done. That was to gain their loyalty. It would be easier for him to simply suppress them with force, but that would be ambiguous to call his complete force. To reign like a king here and live a comfortable life, it was also important to win their hearts. The core of human relationships, passed down since ancient China. That was guanxi. He had to become family with them. Only then would they step forward for him when things were troublesome, when things were difficult, and eventually, they would even sacrifice their lives for him.

Cheongun swept his gaze over the executives gathered before him and spoke. “Who am I?” “You are the Pavilion Master-nim.” “Right. I am the Pavilion Master.” “…”

The executives swallowed hard, gauging Cheongun’s mood. The opponent was a monster whom even all of them combined couldn’t defeat. And judging by his behavior, his personality wasn’t good. No, it was simply rotten. Therefore, it would be best to cater to his whims as much as possible to ensure their safety.

At that moment, Cheongun asked. “Then, what are you all?” “Pardon?” “What is your identity?”

It was a truly unexpected question. There was only one answer to the question of what their identity was. “We are martial artists.”

“No. Martial artists refer to those who purely hone their martial arts. Why did you learn martial arts? Wasn’t it to stab others in the back, commit dirty deeds, bow down before the strong, and wag your tongues before the weak? Then that’s not a martial artist, but just a commoner with a sword.”

Their expressions soured. They were truly a sight to behold.

“Again. What are you?” “…” “Aren’t you going to answer quickly?”

“Even so, calling us commoners is a bit…” At that, Cheongun scoffed in disbelief.

“What, you’re offended by being called commoners? Oh, right. My mistake. To call you commoners to your face, I’ve committed a grave sin.” “No, that’s not…” “My sin is too deep to atone for. It can’t be helped. The only way to atone for this incompetent Pavilion Master’s sin is with your lives.”

At those words, the men jumped in alarm. “No, why our lives?!” “It is the Bloodline Pavilion’s rule that the Pavilion Master’s sins must be atoned for with the lives of his subordinates.” “Pardon? We’ve never heard of such a rule.” “Of course not. I just made it up.” “…”

They thought to themselves. Is he really crazy? “Alright, then, let’s die.” *Swish—!* Cheongun abruptly stood up and drew his sword.

At his sudden action, the executives’ faces turned ashen. “We apologize!” “What was that?” “The Pavilion Master-nim is right. We are not martial artists, but commoners with swords.”

Only then did Cheongun curl his lips into a satisfied grin. The Black Path was convenient this way. Since the strongest person was supreme, it was possible to take over an organization so haphazardly. Of course, there wasn’t *no* resistance, but that too could be suppressed with force. It was only possible because this was a place gathered with men who clung to life more strongly than anyone else.

“Do you know what I hate most in the world?” “What is it?” “It’s commoners like you, running around with swords.” “…We apologize.” “Oh, come on. Is apologizing enough? Why commit acts you have to apologize for?” “…”

The executives completely shut their mouths. Since everything they said was used against them, they had made the extreme choice to simply close their mouths. Seeing their state, Cheongun spoke. “Answer.” “…” “Aren’t you going to answer?” “…” When Cheongun placed his hand on his scabbard, the men finally replied. “We will be more careful.” “Let’s do well from now on.” “Yes.” “You talk well, anyway.” “…”

Cheongun reprimanded them indiscriminately. This wasn’t just a stress reliever. This was also part of a strategy, to clearly engrave the hierarchy by scolding them. Because if the hierarchy wasn’t established early on, the men of the Black Path would relentlessly try to climb over them.

Well, that was enough of that. It was time to get to the main point. “As of today, the Bloodline Pavilion will completely deviate from its previous path.” “Completely?” “Yes. If until now it was a den of commoners who gathered to commit only trashy deeds, a refuge for fools, the Bloodline Pavilion will now embark on an entirely new path. That doesn’t mean abandoning the Black Path’s identity. It’s because I am not a person of the White Path, nor do I intend to define the Black Path itself as completely black.”

Cheongun had little interest in categorizing things as orthodox, unorthodox, black, or white. From the start, the unorthodox factions also had their own sense of righteousness and chivalry, and they acted within their own established standards. If the unorthodox individuals had simply pretended to be crazy and followed a path of utter chaos, disregarding laws and everything else, the Justice Alliance, the Imperial Family, and the government offices would have long since joined forces to strike down the unorthodox factions. More important than alignment was conviction. With that single conviction, Cheongun had desperately survived ever since he was transmigrated.

“What are you?” “Commoners.” “No, before that.” “…People.” “Right, people. Then, how did you, born as people, end up becoming commoners?”

At such a fundamental question, the executives exchanged glances here and there. “Most of the men here were born without even a silver spoon, let alone properly sucking their mother’s milk.” “That is correct.” “To survive, you must have had no interest in alignments like white or black, divided according to their whims. You just compromised with your conscience multiple times, endured on the streets, and sometimes stole and plundered from others, just to eat and survive.”

The executives listened silently to Cheongun’s words. Because there wasn’t a single false word in what he said.

“Life at the bottom is just like that. If you live weakly, you get trampled. If you act kindly, you’re seen as a joke. It’s a life where if you don’t take, you are taken from.” Cheongun continuously observed their expressions intently. If before they had the expression of swallowing curses inwardly, now they at least adopted the posture of someone listening intently.

“But how laughable it is that those born with silver spoons, laughing amongst themselves, elegantly play martial arts games and talk about righteousness and chivalry, conscience and remorse. Who are they to speak? What do they know about the physiology of the bottom? Fucking hypocrites. Who are they to call anyone a commoner?” “…”

Cheongun himself had lived as an orphan for many years. If he had been born an orphan from the start, it would have been different, but suddenly being dropped into the barbaric ancient Central Plains, leaving behind perfectly healthy parents and friends, and living as an orphan—the despair stemming from that gap was truly nothing short of hell.

“Do you know why I, of all people, hate commoners with swords?” “Why?” “Because if one man picks up a sword to survive, others will also pick up swords and cause trouble.” “…”

Cheongun stood up and walked to the window. “Therefore, from now on, I will not divide the Bloodline Pavilion by the empty boundaries of black and white.” Cheongun resolutely declared his aspirations for the future. “The Bloodline Pavilion will walk only one path from now on.”

At that moment, Jin Cheonwoo, who was standing behind him, carefully asked. “What path is that?” “Demon Extermination.”

Demon Extermination. It was the name of the cheat mode Cheongun had activated before being transmigrated. “From now on, we will be the vanguard for overthrowing the Demonic Cult.” “Pardon?” “We’ll extort money from the Demonic Cult, supplies from the Demonic Cult, information from the Demonic Cult. Damn it, we’re just going to live off the Demonic Cult.” “…”

Why? Because I like demonic cultivators. To survive in a world where a mode is applied, one must follow the set strategy. Since the ‘Demon Extermination’ mode was applied, there was no choice but to walk the ‘Demon Extermination’ path. One could say it was preparatory work for living a peaceful and content life in the Central Plains. Demonic cultivators scattered across the Central Plains. Please, give me strength.

At that moment, an old man who had been listening quietly asked, gauging the mood. The Bloodline Pavilion’s Treasurer, Jang Baeksan. He was informally known as Elder Jang.

“Um, Pavilion Master-nim.” “What?” “Then what about the tribute we’ve been paying to the Heavenly Demonic Cult until now?” “Of course, we’ll ignore it.” “But if the tribute stops, they will send an envoy to find us.”

At those words, Cheongun sharply turned his head. “That envoy. Is he a demonic cultivator?” “Pardon? Since he’s sent by the Heavenly Demonic Cult, wouldn’t he be?”

Ignore the tribute. An envoy comes. That envoy is a demonic cultivator. That means. ‘Demonic cultivators… can be replicated…?’ This was it. Cheongun trembled all over with excitement.

The executives, who had been watching quietly, waited for Cheongun with looks that said, ‘Crazy bastard, he’s at it again.’ “When is the tribute due?” “Today.” “So they’ll be here soon?” “They always come on the same day, during the Sulsil hours [7 PM to 9 PM], so yes.”

It’s soon, isn’t it? Then he couldn’t miss this opportunity. Cheongun casually threw on a robe from nearby, then asked Elder Jang. “Elder Jang.” “Yes, Pavilion Master-nim.” “Do you happen to have a fishing rod here?” “???”

Fishing, suddenly? Elder Jang blinked his eyes.

****

8 PM. The time when deep darkness had fallen. A young girl approached, leading six escorts.

They soon arrived at the Bloodline Pavilion and went straight to the main gate of the detached residence where the Pavilion Master resided. Elder Jang was waiting there.

“Elder Jang, it’s been a while?” “Yes, Young Miss. The Cult Leader-nim is well…” “No need for pleasantries. The tribute.” “Um, Young Miss?” “Don’t bother me with talk, just bring it quickly.” “That is…” Elder Jang glanced around, then rubbed his hands together as he cautiously spoke.

“Regarding, um, the tribute.” “Why?” “Could you lend me your ear for a moment…” “???”

The young girl blinked her eyes. Elder Jang smiled kindly and beckoned the girl to come closer. Since he had a harmless impression, the girl clicked her tongue and approached, leaning her ear closer.

Elder Jang whispered in the old man’s characteristic raspy voice. “Hehe, you’ve been hooked.” “What?” It was then.

*Whoosh!* A fishing line, thrown stealthily, cut through the air. And it wrapped around the young girl’s neck.

Immediately, the old man imbued his fingers with internal energy and precisely located the Geogol-hyeol [Giant Bone Acupoint], which he had quickly learned from Cheongun. *Thump thump thump!* The young girl, instantly struck by the acupoint technique, gaped her mouth, paralyzed, and Elder Jang quickly removed the poison pill from her mouth.

And then. “Surround them!” Led by Jin Cheonwoo. The hidden Bloodline Pavilion warriors sprang out from all directions and surrounded them. “???”

The young girl’s eyes were filled with shock. It was the first time in her many years in Jianghu that she had been ‘fished’.