Chapter 1. The Dog After the Hunt
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"Falling Cloud Single Flash, you are hereby released as of today."
As the heavy iron door groaned open, a biting winter wind pierced my nostrils.
"You actually served the full twenty-year sentence."
It had been a long, long period of endurance.
"To maintain such a clear mind despite that... it is a feat rarely seen in history."
There was a hint of reverence in the voice of the guard who had opened the gate.
"You’re talkative today."
"I feel a mix of relief and regret. I never thought I’d be saying something like this to a prisoner."
Had it been nine years since we’d known each other as guard and prisoner? That was enough time to call someone a confidant.
"You’ve laid the flattery on thick today."
"It’s the last day, so I should at least offer that much praise."
"I suppose that’s true."
"But I mean it. The path of a martial artist, destined to stagnate and wither away—who else could remain so detached in the face of such loss?"
The people of the Jianghu are a breed that risks their lives for medicinal herbs to gain a shred of internal energy, sacrificing sleep to obsess over their cultivation. That is why, to us, the Brain Prison was a divine punishment more terrifying than death.
'That isn't the only thing.'
The damp, pitch-black darkness of the underground, where sunlight never reaches, is no different from a monster that gnaws at the human spirit.
'The weak-minded can’t even last a day before they’re reduced to a blubbering mess of tears and snot.'
A gloomy, eternal night in a cave. For a man ruminating on loss and hopelessness in that place, half a year is too long to go insane. Looking back, hadn't I come close to losing myself several times?
"Setting aside the righteous and the wicked, as a fellow martial artist, I offer my respects to a senior of the Jianghu."
The guard, Ga Jin-pyeong, raised his clasped hands to chest height.
"The Ten Thousand Evil Alliance has finally reclaimed its greatest treasure."
...A name I haven't heard in a long time.
The Ten Thousand Evil Alliance is one of the pillars of the Nine Nether Heavens, representing the Southern Jianghu—the world of the evil factions south of the Yangtze River.
I was the man who reigned as the Vice Alliance Leader of that great sect, a position second only to one and above ten thousand.
"You were the Vice Alliance Leader of the Ten Thousand Evil Alliance? Hahaha! The vermin who were nothing but third-rate black-path thugs when I dominated the Jianghu have certainly climbed the ladder."
"The Nine Nether Heavens, heh! What an absurd name. For the monkeys south of the Yangtze to dare discuss the Nine Nethers and the Heavens..."
"I was the Fourth Elder of the Heavenly Demon Cult. When I struck with the edge of my hand, there was no sword I could not shatter."
"To think they attacked the moment I retired and washed my hands of the world! You cowardly righteous-path bastards. The principles of the Jianghu have fallen into the dirt."
"I worry about my elderly mother. I must go and prepare her meal..."
The Murim Alliance’s Brain Prison is a hellish abyss that traps all manner of titans. Yet, no matter how great a master one may be, there is no way to endure after being locked away for decades. Everyone ends up with the vacant, fish-like eyes of a soul-stripped ghost, endlessly muttering about how great they used to be in their prime.
"Hey, you living corpse! Can you shut your trap? Do you think you're the only one using this prison?"
But no one takes those delirious ramblings seriously.
"What? If we were outside, you’d be the one serving me wash-water..."
"Who here hasn't been called a master in their day? If you're so bitter, break out and fight me."
"You insolent whelp, how dare you!"
So, I kept my mouth shut as well. What is the point of boasting about past glory?
"You could have easily reduced your sentence. It was even possible to obtain a new identity."
"..."
"The elders of the Demonic Cult, the luminaries of the righteous sects, and even the public enemies of the Murim and the evil masters accepted quiet deals with the Murim Alliance. Just to escape the Brain Prison even one year early."
I did not do that. The secrets and weaknesses of the Alliance Leader were of immense value, but they could never force my mouth open.
'I simply rotted away in silence within the darkness.'
If we were to discuss the path of cultivation through wall-gazing, even a high-minded old monk would have to sit quietly and recite sutras in my presence.
'I made the Alliance Leader with my own hands, and I became the godfather to his son.'
...And I was locked in the Brain Prison for the sake of those two.
'I was not captured by the Murim Alliance because I lacked the skill.'
The Young Alliance Leader, unable to control his own bloodlust, coveted a forbidden technique and fell into a trap set by the Murim Alliance. I willingly became their prisoner in exchange for saving him.
'I forgot about regret a long time ago.'
Everything was a source of pride for me. But what did I gain in return?
I stared at the hands of an old man who had aged before I knew it. My hands, shriveled and pale from never seeing the sun, didn't even look like the hands of a martial artist anymore.
'My body is decrepit, and my cultivation has stalled.'
The martial artists of my generation who once chased my shadow must have become old masters in their sixties by now, each having seen the limits of their permitted cultivation. Many of them must have already broken through the wall of the Transcendental Realm and etched their names among the hundred greatest masters under heaven.
'My path was severed twenty years ago.'
How could that not be heart-wrenching? Yet, I kept my mouth shut for the sake of the Ten Thousand Evil Alliance. Because that was my loyalty and my duty.
"Actually, the Alliance Leader sent you some travel expenses."
"The Alliance Leader?"
Inside the pouch were gold coins and a small piece of paper.
'...!'
I read the two characters written on the paper in silence.
"Travel money from the Murim Alliance Leader—a sum too precious to spend."
I quietly folded the paper and tucked it into my robes.
"I accept it with gratitude."
"Falling Cloud Single Flash, go safely. I wish you martial fortune."
Ga Jin-pyeong bowed to me. I returned the bow and turned away. In the distance, warriors wearing the uniforms of the Ten Thousand Evil Alliance were waiting for me.
"Vice Alliance Leader, we shall escort you."
I boarded the carriage.
...Now, it is the Alliance Leader's turn to repay his debt to me.
— — —
* * *
— — —
"Alliance Leader, the atmosphere is strange. I expected a banquet where we would drink and feast to our hearts' content."
The place we arrived at after a long journey was a safe house tucked away in a remote location. Surrounded by elders and sect leaders who stood as if to encircle me, the Alliance Leader sitting in the seat of honor wore a face that was bone-dry.
"I am sorry, but the situation has become difficult."
The old master, who boasted a physique as massive as a mountain, spoke in a voice devoid of emotion.
"What could possibly be difficult? Has the Demonic Cult invaded? Is there a problem between the Nine Nether Heavens? Did the Hengshan Sect provoke us? They shouldn't have the strength for that."
"You must go to Lingling County."
My heart sank with a thud. Lingling?
"What do you expect me to do in a ruin where not even a blade of grass grows?"
The meaning was as clear as day.
"Isn't that exile?"
I stared at the Alliance Leader in silence. Cold flames burned in my head.
"Is this the Alliance's reward? For me, who kept your secrets for twenty years?"
"How can I be sure you didn't spill those secrets?"
"What did you just say?"
My blood ran cold.
"How can you say such a thing—"
"Vice Alliance Leader, watch your tongue!"
"How dare you speak such insolence to the Alliance Leader!"
I looked toward where the shouting came from.
"...These bastards seem to have forgotten my personality."
The voice that flowed out was already as chilling as a northern wind.
"You whelps who haven't even dried behind the ears, who do you think you're lecturing?"
"What?"
"How arrogant!"
"Arrogant? Me? To you lot?"
I scanned the sect leaders and let my gaze rest on the Alliance Leader's only son.
"Jong Un-yang, do you have anything to say?"
The brat spoke to me with a cold face.
"I heard the Murim Alliance Leader gave you a pouch."
"So?"
"What's inside?"
"A bit of travel money."
I twisted the corners of my mouth. Since when had this brat's tone become so disrespectful?
"I heard there were words written on a paper."
"Are you trying to interrogate me?"
"I don't know what to make of this. Why is the gaze of a man who was locked in the Brain Prison for twenty years still so clear?"
"...!"
It felt as if my internal organs were twisting. The intent behind his words was so base.
"Are you implying I colluded with the Murim Alliance?"
"It is a matter of grave concern."
"Hahahaha!"
Only then did I truly realize the Alliance's stance. I, Mok Ju-gyeol, am not a man who denies reality simply because I do not wish to believe it.
"If that were the case, would your head still be attached to your neck?"
"What?"
"If I had leaked 'your' secrets and handed over strategies, how could you dare look at me with such greasy, well-fed faces today? Why would I have bothered to serve the full sentence, and why would I have crawled back here? Wouldn't it have been easier to just accept a position as a division leader in the Murim Alliance and defect?"
"Who knows? You might be trying to act as a spy after becoming the Murim Alliance Leader's man—"
"Who knows, indeed!"
I sneered.
"You don't know, yet you blindly condemn me? You're spewing this nonsense because you've already decided on the conclusion and are trying to force the facts to fit."
I pointed at the Alliance Leader's son.
"I don't know about the others, but you shouldn't be the one saying that. Who do you think I spent twenty years in prison for?"
He stared at me with eyes that felt devoid of emotion.
"Jong Un-yang, am I still your godfather?"
"Godfather."
The man who was my godson replied.
"This is the most merciful proposal we can offer."
"Absurd."
I turned to look at the Ten Thousand Evil Alliance Leader.
"To think you have nothing to say even in this state; you have truly become a man of few words."
"Mok Ju-gyeol."
The Alliance Leader's eyes sank deep.
"Have your teeth fallen out? If your child is acting like this, shouldn't a father scold him?"
"I've been watching and watching, and now this fellow dares!"
"Enough."
The Ten Thousand Evil Alliance Leader, who had raised a hand to calm the sect leaders, opened his heavy mouth.
"Go to Lingling and live quietly. I speak the truth when I say that is the only way you will survive."
"It would be a miracle if I didn't end up eating poison and dying a dog's death one day."
"Damn it, old man! Why has your tongue been so long since a while ago?"
A sect leader who had slammed the table spoke roughly.
"Is it that hard to understand that you should just rot in the back room and live like a dead rat? Have you forgotten how the Jianghu has turned while you were locked in a hole like a rat?"
Looking closely, the face was familiar.
"Ah, I remember now. You were just a child who followed Woon-yang around, running petty errands. You’ve grown quite a bit."
"You crazy old man—"
The moment the bastard drew his weapon, I struck with a thunderous barrage, hitting his *Danjung*, *Hyeopshim*, and *Amun* pressure points.
*Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!*
"Ugh!"
Seeing a man who called himself a Hall Master collapse so pathetically from a simple palm strike, I finally understood why the Mansa Alliance had fallen back to the lowest rungs of the Nine Heavens.
"Reflect on yourself. You are weaker than me, a man who has been locked away for twenty years."
"That is an intolerable insult!"
Several executives drew their weapons.
"If you don't want to be humiliated, put your weapons away. Are these not all martial arts you learned from me?"
"……!"
As the Hall Masters hesitated, Jong Woon-yang spat out a coarse curse.
"You useless idiots. What kind of disgraceful display is this?"
"I-I apologize."
I could no longer suppress the nausea rising in my throat.
*Damn it.*
I stood up quietly.
*Everything has changed too much.*
This place was no longer the Mansa Alliance I once knew. My struggles to prevent the corruption of the Alliance had long since gone to waste.
"Alliance Leader, if your late father could see the Mansa Alliance today, he would lament bitterly."
The Alliance Leader’s calm brow twitched for the first time.
"Mok Ju-gyeol, shut your mouth."
"If he were still here, how could things have come to this? To discard a subordinate who was more loyal than anyone else like a worn-out shoe—it is unthinkable."
The Mansa Alliance Leader stood up slowly. His killing intent pricked at my skin. The power he had cultivated over the past twenty years was at a level I dared not challenge in my current state.
"You."
Yet, even under the pressure that felt like being crushed by a massive mountain, I did not blink.
"You speak as if you and my father were special. Who exactly do you think you are to call yourself his son?"
"Before he passed, the late Alliance Leader called me to his side and repeatedly entrusted me with the future and the convictions of the Alliance. That is why I have served you with such loyalty."
But the banner we had once sought to uphold had long since vanished.
"This is *my* Mansa Alliance. You have always been one to nitpick and complain about my decisions."
"And since I left, has the Alliance become stronger or weaker? Is this truly the outcome you desired?"
Looking back, our paths had been different from the very beginning. I had simply refused to admit it until now.
"Let us part ways here."
No one moved to stop me as I turned to leave.
***
The alliance members led me to a cramped, narrow room.
"We will provide a carriage and a servant. Please depart as soon as the sun rises."
The servant was, of course, there to watch me. I sat on the edge of a bed that was worse than those in a cheap inn and muttered to myself.
"It feels as if I’ve returned to the prison cell."
Outside, a sharp, biting killing intent wrapped around the room like a fog. It was blatant surveillance.
*Even the jailers of the Murim Alliance treated me with respect.*
Why must I be subjected to such treatment?
"Heh heh heh heh!"
It was hollow. This was not the Mansa Alliance I knew. It was no different from the black-path gangs in the streets that treated loyalty like trash.
*Is this the reward for my devotion?*
Regret gnawed at my bones. If I had sold out the Alliance as the Murim Alliance had demanded, I could have had everything.
*But did my choice to keep my faith lead to the worst possible outcome?*
I took out the pouch the Murim Alliance Leader had given me. On the paper inside, it was written:
- *Caution (操心).*
What could he have meant by that?
"I was the only one who didn't see that things would turn out this way."
I acted as if I were the wisest of all, yet I failed to see the true nature of the one I served. Is this not the classic case of a monk unable to shave his own head, or a fortune teller unable to foresee his own future?
"Jong Wi-cheon, even so, I wanted to believe in you."
The years I spent in the Mansa Alliance flashed before my eyes like a revolving lantern. The memories I had chewed over thousands and tens of thousands of times now felt so repulsive that I wanted to scrape them out of my brain.
*Alliance Leader, I am sorry.*
I thought of the face of the previous Alliance Leader, whom I had admired and respected beyond measure.
*My abilities were lacking, and I could not lead the Alliance down the right path.*
Without the leash of his father, and without the leash of me, Jong Wi-cheon’s Mansa Alliance had decayed into exactly what that man had feared.
*I want to kill them all.*
It would not be difficult to slaughter a few incompetent Hall Masters to vent my anger. But.
*They might even be hoping for that. They might be waiting for me to lose my mind in a fit of rage so they would have an excuse to dispose of me.*
I looked at the spiderwebs hanging from the dark ceiling. A moth’s corpse, trapped and drained of its essence. That was my future.
"……I cannot allow that."
I will pay them back. Every bit of this humiliation, doubled.
"It seems I have no choice but to use that."
I reached deep into my throat and pulled out a small bead.
"Ack!"
Mixed with a graceless retch, a small, milky-white bead emerged. Its name was the *Nether-Returning Spirit Bead (冥還靈珠).*
*I never truly believed it, thinking it was just an absurd tale.*
……This was the 'Great Art of Regression' manual I had received from an old man I met in the prison.
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