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Chapter 8
“So, what do you plan to do with your life now?”
“Me? I’m just going to spend time traveling with my wife and kids. Life’s too short not to.”
“That’s what you say to your father?”
“Father, your good health is all I could ask for.”
“Sounds like you’re telling me to keep working hard.”
“You’ll easily last another thirty years, won’t you?”
“I give you a compliment and this is what I get. Shameless brat. Get out of here already.”
“Mu-ho will do great.”
Leaving those words behind, Mujin turned and walked out of the conference room.
Outside, his wife was waiting. They had discussed this moment, but it would’ve been a lie to say she wasn’t at all hurt. Still, she stepped forward and gently took his hand. There was a quiet strength in her that didn’t match the stereotypical women of this era.
‘She’s my woman, but seriously, what a powerhouse.’
“I’ll be the one providing for us now.”
“Then let me handle the cooking and laundry. You just focus on your work outside.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“Well, I have to. Let’s do this together.”
Doing household chores for a wife who brings home the bacon, it was only right as a husband. And honestly, he wanted to start learning. Working outside wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Dealing with people was draining in its own way.
“Are you really that upset?”
“Not at all. I actually like it this way. That job didn’t even suit you. You weren’t good at it, either. Honestly, you acted way too bold just because you thought I had your back.”
“Ouch. That’s a bit harsh… though fair.”
The more he looked at her, the more beautiful she became, and not just in appearance. She was kind, thoughtful, everything good. To think he once abandoned this woman and wandered off...
Looking back, it was the dumbest thing he’d ever done. He must’ve been possessed or something. No sane person would’ve made that choice.
There’s no way he was letting this day go by without doing something special.
—“Your body really is something else.”
‘Shut it, will you?’
Things were going so well, and then that voice just had to ruin it.
Some things never change. Whether before death or after, this guy had no sense of timing.
‘Should I kill you again?’
—“That’d take us both down.”
.
.
.
Despite the major decision of changing successors, things at Songho Sect continued as if nothing happened. Just another ordinary day. There was no disruption to daily life, no dramatic upheaval. It was a peaceful transition, almost unnervingly so.
Mujin had left that small of a footprint.
Whether he was there or not made no difference. In fact, things only seemed more cheerful without him. With the source of conflict removed, the sect dared to dream of a brighter future.
Everyone settled into their roles, and Mujin found his own bit of work.
In Cheongyang, a mountain range descended from Mount Guwha, known as Songusan. From there, wood was harvested for the sect’s use.
Every morning, Mujin would head out and return with a full load of timber on his back.
But not everyone was thrilled about it. A tiny pair of sharp eyes watched him with disapproval, and the more he saw them, the more Mujin wanted to scoop the kid up and smother him with kisses.
‘Those big, expressive eyes on that tiny face... I must’ve been good-looking in my youth, too. Maybe I pushed this face too hard through all that rough living.’
“You’re not even a real woodcutter, Dad.”
“So our little Tae-jin doesn’t like having a woodcutter for a dad?”
Trying to act like a mature big brother around his sister, Tae-jin was still just a kid. He didn’t want to accept that his father was a mere woodcutter.
Songho Sect was a sect of martial artists. He wanted his dad to be someone strong.
“Nope. Don’t like it.”
“But you like Dad, right?”
“What’s there to like about a woodcutter?”
“It’s better than doing nothing. Should I just be unemployed then?”
“That’s even worse!”
Ever since Mujin’s younger brother became the new heir and took the reins of the sect, everything had gotten more vibrant. Everyone was happy with the decision, except Tae-jin.
It’s not that he hated his uncle. It’s just… his dad had lost his place.
Sure, Dad caused problems. Sure, he got scammed. Sure, he stirred up trouble… Okay, a lot of trouble. People in the sect pretty much considered him trash.
But to Tae-jin, he was still Dad.
“I was gonna sell this wood and buy something you like, but never mind.”
“Dad, I want meat!”
“Aww, my sweet Mi-joo. I’ll sell a bunch of wood and buy you all the meat you want.”
‘I’ll get her the fanciest sweets in all the colors of the rainbow.’
“Yay, Daddy!”
He always said he’d raise them both equally, no favoritism, but of course, he doted on Mi-joo more. No matter how hard he tried to act mature, Tae-jin was still a little kid. He reached out, almost asking for a hug, then awkwardly pulled back and pouted.
Hmph!
I hate you, Dad!
Pitter-patter!
As Mi-joo stomped off, Mi-joo waddled after him. Those two were practically glued at the hip. Wherever he went, Mi-joo followed. One would think he’d get annoyed, but Tae-jin always made time for her.
After finishing his morning chores, Mujin ate with his wife and soaked in the lazy afternoon sunlight. Sitting under the eaves like this, soaking in the quiet, it was the kind of peaceful boredom he had longed for. Once you leave home, it’s nothing but misery, that was the truth of life.
—“You really live without a single thought in your head.”
‘Does life always need a master plan?’
—“Aren’t you afraid of the Demonic Cult?”
‘I’m the former War King, I’ve earned the right to take it slow.’
—“Your confidence really is unmatched.”
‘Because I was the strongest of my time.’
It seemed Cheon-gyeong was getting frustrated, so Mujin cracked open the communication link. And now he was spouting nonsense again. Those wannabe tough guys? Not even worth breaking a sweat.
—“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
‘Of course I am.’
The battle with Cheon-gyeong had raged for three nights and days, it was nothing short of brutal. In terms of martial prowess, the difference between them was razor-thin, just a sliver. Yet, if they were to clash again, Mujin was confident he could end it within a single day. If they fought one more time, he could finish it in six hours. After that? Maybe just ten seconds.
How could he be so sure?
It wasn’t as though the opponent would stand still.
True enough.
But that’s what made War King Art so terrifying.
The more one fought, the more one evolved. It wasn’t about simply raising one’s energy level; it was something different. This was a martial art perfected through pure, battlefield instinct.
Every time he engaged in battle, Mujin stripped his opponent’s techniques down to their core, exposing every hidden weakness. No matter how strong someone became afterward, if they didn’t overcome those flaws, the outcome would remain the same.
And Mujin hadn’t even completed the War King Art.
Just the seventh stage of War King Art had been enough to suppress Cheon-gyeong. Once he reached the eighth, or even the ninth?
There wouldn’t be a single opponent left who could stand against him. Not even the Demonic Cult. Hell, not even their founder.
—“Twenty years isn’t that long, you know.”
‘It’s not that short either.’
When he had first started learning martial arts seriously, he was already twenty. By then, dark energy had built up inside him, and he’d hit a plateau. But even so, Mujin had stormed through battlefields and conquered them all. Looking back, he was the very definition of a late bloomer.
‘Still, I’ve progressed pretty fast, haven’t I?’
—“You’ve got me to thank for that.”
‘Don’t go patting yourself on the back.’
—“If you’re done whining, open the channel. I want to take a look too.”
‘Shut it! What the hell would you even look at?’
—“Don’t misunderstand. I just want to see the sky.”
‘Bullshit. That excuse isn’t going to fly.’
This bastard. He called himself the Demonic King, but he was as lecherous as they came. A proper final boss should carry himself with dignity. Instead, this guy was a walking scandal, an obscene Demonic King.
—“Back in the day, I was quite the catch. You know that, right?”
‘You mean kidnapping women and locking them up?’
—“Plenty came willingly.”
‘And plenty were taken as hostages.’
—“A misunderstanding.”
‘Misunderstanding, my ass. You’re a scarecrow who somehow got to do all the dirty stuff.’
—“That’s just human life. You can’t fight all the time.”
‘You’re not even human.’
It wasn’t as though the Demonic King personally ordered every atrocity. But that didn’t mean Mujin didn’t resent him.
The Demonic Cult worshipped blood and madness, a fanatic group far from anything human. In that sense, the Demonic King’s personality wasn’t entirely to blame. He had been raised in a brutal, unnatural environment. A normal life would’ve been impossible.
—“Those guys? They really did live up to the name Demonic.”
‘Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that already.’
—“Once isn’t enough. I could say it a hundred times.”
‘I’ve done my calculations. Don’t worry.’
He wasn’t just idling away his time after regression. Since his return, Mujin had pushed War King Art past the third stage. That kind of progress in such a short time? Impressive didn’t even begin to cover it.
But the true terror of War King Art wasn’t in raw energy. It was in the forged mind and body. It enabled one to move and defend instinctively, even under extreme conditions. Only then could it be considered complete.
Using the excuse of gathering firewood, Mujin had been training in the mountains each morning. It wasn’t his first time taking those paths, so he didn’t waste any time.
‘Why don’t you just keep doing your own Internal energy circulation technique?’
—“You sneaky bastard.”
Even while standing still, Mujin was essentially practicing his Internal energy circulation technique. Cheon-gyeong was running his own demonic cultivation to support the operation of War King Art. By handing over control, Mujin didn’t have to do it himself. So he simply sat back while his internal energy accumulated.
That’s why his power had been growing exponentially by the day.
‘By the way, the present version of you—he must be out there somewhere too, right?’
—“Probably.”
‘So what happens if we meet?’
—“No idea.”
‘I bet you do.’
—“Well, I do have a theory.”
‘Ha! You won’t try to pull any tricks?’
—“You might not be strong enough on your own. I’m not the type to leave debts unpaid.”
Truth be told, Mujin had begun to trust Cheon-gyeong—at least a little.
After battling him for three days straight, Mujin had come to understand the guy’s true nature. And if betrayal were in the cards, Cheon-gyeong would’ve chosen a much simpler route than all this nonsense.
He had a hunch about their next move, but deep down, he hoped they’d succeed.
There was no compelling reason for Mujin to take revenge himself. Honestly, he hadn’t even seen these people with his own eyes. To hold a grudge against strangers felt stranger than letting it go.
‘It’s about time. Things are lining up. Maybe I should start showing results.’
—“So you’re the one paying the price for clever tricks, not me.”
‘Thinking you can do it all alone—that’s arrogance.’
—“Says the guy who charged ahead like a lone wolf.”
‘That was the old me.’
—“Technically, this is the past.”
Mujin lazed under the eaves until his wife returned, then headed into the kitchen. He had brought back a rabbit from the mountains, already skinned and drained of blood. During his years as the War King, living alone had taught him basic survival cooking.
Over time, those simple meals evolved into something more refined. His culinary skills weren’t professional, but his grill game was strong.
He seasoned the meat with his secret marinade to neutralize the gaminess, and gently roasted it to a golden brown over time. Judging by the timing, it would be ready right when his wife got home.
“Please, allow to handle this.”
“It’s fine. You can see I’ve got it under control.”
Jeonchil and his wife, who had followed Yu-jin back to the sect, looked on nervously as Mujin cooked. Gathering firewood and preparing meals had always been their responsibility. And while having less to do made life easier, it didn’t sit right with them.
“It’s not like I cook every day. Just take a break.”
“Then we’ll rest… just for a little while.”
They worried they might get scolded if something went wrong, but their concern was unnecessary. Mujin’s knife skills and seasoning techniques weren’t something he’d learned overnight.
“I’m making plenty. Feel free to take some.”
“Thank you, Master.”
He’d caught ten wild rabbits.
If not prepared properly, rabbit meat could taste quite gamey. But Mujin had mastered the art of cooking them over twenty years of bachelor life.
“It smells amazing.”
“Right? Say what you want, but I’ve got a real knack for cooking.”
Jeonchil and his nodded in agreement. They’d never expected their noble master to have such deft hands. Who knew a martial artist could be so good in the kitchen?
Especially the way he sliced the meat, it wasn’t ordinary. He traced the natural grain of the rabbit and carved through it in one fluid motion. It was like watching a lifelong chef at work.
Hssssssss!
The meat sizzled, turning a perfect shade of golden brown.
That evening, the whole family gathered for dinner. Yujin was moved by her husband’s cooking.
But even more than the food, what warmed her heart was having everyone at the table, together.
She tried not to show it, but she used to feel sad. Her husband had always been out and about, never staying home for long. But recently, he hadn’t left the house at all.
“You did a great job.”
“What did I even do?”
“Working outside is tough.”
“You’ve had it rough too.”
“Me? I’ve just been lazing around at home.”
Cleaning the house, doing laundry, cooking...
Totally easy.
He even had time to spare.
Meanwhile, his wife was breaking her back managing the sect’s finances. It might look like she was just sitting at a desk, but that was far from the truth. Budgeting for the sect wasn’t something you could do casually.
Every expense had to match the available budget. If they came up short, it would trigger a domino effect of problems. She was one of the major pillars holding the sect together.
She was an exceptional financial officer.
Raised among merchants in her youth, she had razor-sharp instincts when it came to numbers. Fast, precise, and unyielding, if you underestimated her, you’d get burned. Every single item that came in or went out of the sect had to pass through her approval.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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