SERIES: Return Of The Divine Thief
CHAPTER: 16
Muryang was digging a grave to lay a coffin to rest, the wind thick with the stench of blood.
……?
Dozens of corpses awaited their final rest.
Suddenly, Muryang recalled seeing this very scene in his past life.
Ah… a dream.
Realizing he was dreaming, Muryang straightened his back for a moment to cool his sweat.
A lucid dream…
It was Muryang's first time experiencing one, but he'd heard from others what a lucid dream was.
They said that once you realize you're dreaming, you can make anything you imagine happen, right?
He pondered whether to kick that bastard cult leader's ass or try to resurrect his dead family, but then…
…Hmm.
In the end, he simply picked up his shovel again.
Thud. Thud.
On second thought, it was because he had experienced this exact situation in the past.
This was the day he met his master.
Was it because Muryang was thinking of his master, or was the dream designed this way from the start?
Suddenly, a white-haired old man approached and asked.
“Are you a young man from this village?”
Muryang answered without turning around.
“No, sir. I’m just a tomb-builder who was staying here for a while.”
“Then why are you making graves for all these people? The dead couldn't have hired you.”
Muryang silently dug a hole large enough for one coffin, then straightened his back.
And he looked at the old man's face.
“It didn’t feel like someone else’s problem.”
The old man didn't reply to Muryang's words.
Muryang, too, paid him no mind and continued digging.
When Muryang straightened up to take a short break, the old man offered him a flask and asked.
“Did you go through something similar?”
“Yes. In the past.”
He drank the alcohol the old man offered, but it was bland.
It didn't taste great, but he was thirsty, so he took another sip.
“How did you survive? You don't look like you've learned martial arts.”
“I had a job that took me far away.”
“I see.”
The old man, at a loss for words, silently tipped back his flask.
Muryang also drank for a while.
“Sir, are you a martial artist?”
“I suppose so.”
“Then, could you teach me martial arts?”
“Don't be foolish. Being a martial artist is no way to live. It’s just a way to make enemies for yourself.”
“If it’s enemies you mean… I already have them.”
The old man didn't respond.
Taking the silence as a rejection, Muryang took another sip of alcohol and started digging again.
By the time he had dug enough space for five coffins, the old man spoke.
“About ten years ago, I took on a child as my disciple. He was an upright boy, one who could never turn a blind eye to evil.”
“You must have taught him well.”
“He died. Around this time… a few years ago.”
“……”
“Despite his inexperience, he saw the state of the world and rushed out, saying he had to do something.”
Muryang couldn't find the words to respond.
Soon, the old man spoke again.
“Where will you go when you’re finished with this?”
Without stopping his digging, Muryang answered in a monotone voice.
“I plan to use the money I’ve saved to buy a weapon and seek out the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.”
A monotonous tone. The old man sensed that this young man would do exactly as he said.
“Are you planning to die?”
“The result may be the same, but I am not going there to die.”
He was simply doing what had to be done.
The old man watched the young man quietly.
The old man had surely decided never to take another disciple.
But the words that came out of his mouth were completely different from his thoughts.
“For a connection to come so late in my life, it is a strange one indeed.”
The old man gathered his thoughts and spoke.
“Very well. I will teach you martial arts. But in return.”
“In return?”
“Promise me. You will only begin your revenge when I permit it.”
The old man left the decision to Muryang.
If he accepted, he would take him as a disciple. If he refused, he would leave.
“…I will obey.”
“Good.”
“But, old man. No, Master. I have yet to ask for your esteemed name.”
“I forgot my name long ago.”
The old man pointed a thin arm at Muryang and spoke.
“I am now the Divine Thief. And you, too, will become one.”
“The Divine Thief.”
Muryang closed his eyes and thought.
A familiar name.
The name of Muryang’s master, and the title that would later become his own.
When his master passed away, that heavy name became his.
And until that very moment.
His master never told Muryang, You may have your revenge now.
Did he want to tell me of the meaninglessness of revenge?
Or did he simply wish for his new disciple to live?
There was no way to know now.
As his thoughts reached this point, Muryang’s eyes slowly opened again.
“…Master. Thanks to you, my feet are heavy. It’s a heavy burden for a mere thief to carry.”
The world, so clear just moments ago, was now melting away as if ink were running down a page.
Muryang could only gaze endlessly at his fading master.
* * *
In the predawn hours, before the sun had risen.
Muryang opened his eyes.
“……”
The reality that he had returned to the past hit him anew.
He had met his master several years from now.
Meaning, at this point in time, the previous Divine Thief was.
“Still alive. As is the senior disciple I’ve never even met.”
Should I go and meet them?
But with what face?
“In the end, I broke my promise to my master too.”
It seems you had no luck with disciples.
To shake off the afterimage of the dream, Muryang picked up the water pitcher on the table and downed a glass of cold water.
The cold water flowing down his throat seemed to jolt him awake.
He sat on the edge of the bed again, closed his eyes, and focused his senses.
But then.
…It’s not disappearing.
Muryang’s brow furrowed slightly.
The master’s presence.
The presence he had thought was a remnant of the dream was still clearly perceptible to his senses.
It was faint, but it was an undeniably real presence.
This presence… It’s definitely my master’s. But it’s weak.
Muryang tilted his head.
It wasn't just the magnitude of the presence.
He knew his master’s level better than anyone.
If his master had decided to sneak into his bedroom, the current Muryang should never have been able to notice.
‘Besides, my master should be in seclusion right now. In that case, there’s only one answer.’
The image of one person flashed through Muryang’s mind.
The one he had never met… his senior disciple.
‘Master, is this why you visited me?’
In his past life, he was already deceased, a person he had only heard of by name through his master’s words.
His senior disciple, who was said to have been upright and righteous, who died young fighting against the injustices of the martial world with his meager skills.
It was that senior disciple’s death that had drawn his secluded master back out into the world, a connection that eventually reached Muryang himself.
‘My senior disciple…’
An intrigued smile played on Muryang’s lips.
A person he had never seen in his past life had appeared before him like this.
It was surely a part of the changes brought about by his own actions.
‘I’ll have to save him. If my inexperienced senior disciple dies, my master will wander the world aimlessly again.’
Feeling his master’s presence, memories of the past came flooding back.
But there was something more important right now.
‘First, I should get a look at his face, see what he looks like.’
Muryang lay back down on the bed, imagining what his senior disciple looked like based on his master’s descriptions.
‘Anyway, why did he come here?’
Given the timing, his senior disciple, whom he had never met, should be doing something life-threatening right about now.
He had heard from his master’s own lips that he died around this time.
However, seeing as he had snuck into his bedchamber, this too seemed to be an effect of him changing history.
It was a situation where he couldn't know the other party's purpose for seeking him out.
Acting rashly was the move of an amateur.
Muryang lay on the bed, controlled his breathing to appear as if he were in a deep sleep, and completely concealed his presence.
All that was left was to wait for the night guest to walk right in.
* * *
Perched atop a tall tree that overlooked the Red Bridge Faction’s headquarters, a man sat like a shadow.
His name was Baekun.
He was a disciple of the current Divine Thief, but having left the mountain without his master's permission, he hadn’t inherited the title.
Still, he carried on his master's will, punishing the wicked and helping those who lived earnestly.
While wandering the Jianghu, he discovered that counterfeit medicine was being distributed, harming the innocent.
He traced the distribution route of the fake medicine to Qinzhou in Guangxi Province. On his way, in the county of Wuyi, he heard an interesting rumor.
It was the story of a small underworld group in Wuyi called the ‘Red Bridge Faction’, which had turned over a new leaf overnight after its master changed.
Thugs who used to make money selling liquor and women or extorting people had suddenly started legitimate businesses, such as helping those in need.
‘The underworld turning over a new leaf? I’d sooner believe a story about a wolf eating temple food.’
Baekun didn't believe the rumors.
He was certain it was either a disguise for a greater evil or a new trick by some cult to deceive the common folk.
He had come all the way to Wuyi to ascertain the truth of the rumors and, if they were indeed a band of villains, to uproot them completely.
However, the results of his investigation into the Red Bridge Faction over the past few days had only thrown him into deeper confusion.
The rumors were true.
Children were learning to read, and the underworld thugs were sharing porridge with their starving neighbors.
In their eyes shone not the venom of their past underworld days, but hope for the future.
‘Who in the world, and by what means… managed to turn wolves into sheep?’
Baekun began to dig into the force behind this incident, which felt more bizarre than merely strange.
At first, he naturally focused his investigation on the new leader of the Red Bridge Faction, Jo Yangtae.
But the real mastermind was a boy named ‘Cho Muryang’.
‘A mere brat in his mid-teens reformed a group of underworld thugs who have wallowed in filth their entire lives?’
Baekun came to a conclusion.
Impossible.
No matter how remote Wuyi was, or how small the Red Bridge Faction was, these were underworld thugs who had seen it all.
One might be able to defeat the head of an underworld group with martial arts gained through a fortunate encounter, but reforming the remaining members was another story entirely.
‘He’s either hiding his identity with a human-skin mask, or there’s someone backing him I haven’t found yet.’
No matter how he thought about it, there was no other way.
But despite his determined investigation, no such backer emerged.
Which meant.
‘That boy, Cho Muryang… his face is a fake.’
Behind that mask, an unidentified master was hiding, one who had taken the underworld in his grasp and was resetting the board.
‘I must uncover his identity.’
His objective was now clear.
He would remove the mask and see the real face hiding behind it.
Whether that person was good or evil was a judgment that could wait until after he saw their true identity.
As befitting a disciple of the Divine Thief, his infiltration was flawless.
Hiding himself in the shadows, Baekun observed the boy’s presence for a long while.
Even rhythmic breathing. A body without the slightest twitch.
He was in a perfect, deep sleep.
Before removing the mask, Baekun planned to incapacitate him by striking his pressure points, just in case.
He moved his body slightly, intending to approach the bed with caution, when…
“…Mmm.”
The soundly sleeping boy, Muryang, tossed and turned before slowly sitting up.
‘!!’
Baekun unknowingly held his breath.
His form instantly melted into the deepest darkness in the corner of the room.
‘Was I discovered? No, that’s impossible! I’m sure I erased my presence completely!’
His heart pounded fiercely.
But Muryang didn't even glance toward where he was hiding.
He just sat dazedly on the bed like a child not yet fully awake, scratching his messy hair.
A moment later, he picked up the water pitcher from the table and began to gulp down water.
He looked perfectly ordinary, like someone who had woken up from thirst.
“Hah…”
Muryang smacked his lips as if refreshed, then went straight back to bed, collapsing onto it.
Soon, the sound of his soft, even breathing could be heard once more.
‘…I guess not, after all.’
Baekun let out a sigh of relief.
He felt foolish for having worked himself up over nothing.
He emerged from the darkness once more and cautiously approached the bed.
There was no need to hesitate now.
Baekun gathered his inner energy into his fingers and took precise aim at the sleeping Muryang’s vital points.
Just before his fingertips could touch Muryang’s neck.
Grab.
“……!”
The impossible happened.
The boy, who should have been deep in slumber, shot his hand out like lightning and snatched his wrist with perfect accuracy.
“Nice to meet you, thief.”
0 Comments