Chapter 546

“The Alliance Leader is about to speak.”

With that heavy declaration, five doors opened one after another. As a lone figure slowly approached from beyond, everyone rose to their feet in unison—as if on cue.

Chomp, nom nom.

Except for this bastard.

‘The more I look, the more I realize he’s completely nuts.’

I’m not exactly the most courteous person myself, but I have at least a basic level of awareness. As I watched Cheongpung carefully stuff every last bit of food into his mouth for safekeeping, I muttered under my breath.

“What is wrong with you? Got a grudge against society? Don’t like the Murim Alliance?”

Swallowing what was in his mouth, Cheongpung stood up and answered.

“But there was still food left, benefactor.”

“Right, and that’s when normal people stop eating.”

“But the dumplings would’ve gotten cold.”

Cheongpung, you damn freak. A guy who’s like Guan Yu, yet can’t sense that while your dumplings might be hot, the looks you’re getting from the people around you are ice cold…

‘Then again, he’s always been like this.’

If he cared what others thought, he wouldn’t be Cheongpung. With a quiet sigh, I nudged his side and murmured,

“If you’re done eating, then focus up, Pavilion Master of Blue Dragon Pavilion.”

Cheongpung stuck out his lips at the sound of those four syllables but gave a small nod. Then, in a pouty voice, he muttered,

“Yes, benefactor.”

Though the official name remained as the Two Dragons Pavilion, it was split into the Fire Dragon Pavilion, which I oversaw, and Cheongpung’s Blue Dragon Pavilion. According to a conversation we had on our way to the assembly, he’d wanted to name his division differently—but was blocked by Moon Kyung’s fierce opposition.

‘That name… I really don’t like it.’

Why? I think Blue Dragon Pavilion sounds pretty cool. Then again, yeah, it’s a bit much. I mean, he’s a pavilion master. Shouldn’t he at least get to name the place?

‘I thought the same, but Grandpa Moon didn’t like it. He said if I used a name like that, I might as well quit altogether.’

‘It was that serious? What was the name you originally wanted?’

‘Dumpling Pavilion.’

‘Or maybe Sweets Pavilion.’

‘…Ah. I see.’

‘Hmph. Grandpa Moon is mean. What the hell is Blue Dragon Pavilion, anyway…?’

Even now, I can’t believe him. He should be thankful, that crazy bastard.

Might as well have gone with Kim Seaweed Snack Pavilion instead.

The retort was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it in. Not because it was in the past—but because the highest authority of the orthodox Murim had just entered the assembly hall.

Step.

Footsteps echoed through the still silence.

Having reached the seat of honor, Murim Alliance Leader Ma Jong-hak gave everyone a faint smile.

“It seems everyone’s gathered.”

Unlike the last meeting, this time included even the heads of the core organizations under the Alliance Leader’s Office. This meant that the Murim Alliance’s internal reorganization was now fully complete.

‘Looks like there’s quite a lot when we’re all together.’

I quickly scanned the room. There were unfamiliar faces, and others I recognized. The former were experts I’d only heard of by name or title. But among the latter, there were several I was glad to see.

“You’re late. I almost got a cramp in my ass.”

There are only a handful of people in the world who could say that to the Alliance Leader.

And the most prominent among them was Jeok Cheon-Gang, seated right next to the leader’s seat. Leaning on one leg, his gruff remark made Jin Wi-gyeong, who was sitting across from him in the central row, awkwardly speak up.

“Senior Jeok.”

“What.”

“Well, you know…”

“Look at you. Ever since you got a fancy title, now you’re defending the Alliance Leader?”

Jin Wi-gyeong flinched for a second, then gave a sheepish smile. In just a little over a year, he’d taken over as acting head of the Taewon Jin Clan and led its frightening resurgence from near ruin. Now, he was clearly one of the key figures present.

“That’s not what I—”

“I get it, I get it. Now both the elder and the younger generation are ganging up on me.”

As Jeok Cheon-Gang grumbled, Ma Jong-hak smiled.

“Don’t be like that, Senior Jeok. Or should I start calling you Lord of the Five Kings Hall now?”

“…Keh. I get the message, so enough already. People are watching.”

“Ah, calling in all these busy people just to chat idly…”

Ma Jong-hak might be the busiest of them all, but that wasn’t entirely wrong.

Each and every person in this room was a vital cog in the massive organization known as the Murim Alliance.

The Inner Hall consisted of the Second Hall (Ijeon), Three Halls (Samdang), Five Pavilions (Ogak), and Five Gardens (Owon), while the Nine Divisions (Sipdan) were occupied by members from the Five Great Clans and Nine Prestigious Sects. The only organization on equal footing with the Leader’s Hall, led by Ma Jong-hak, was the Five Kings Hall, where Jeok Cheon-Gang had taken command.

‘And beyond that, there’s even more.’

Surprisingly, those present didn’t even make up the full roster. If you added in the division leaders and lords from the Outer Hall, they’d probably have to hold the meeting in the martial arena due to lack of space.

This was proof of how vast the Murim Alliance had become. And the fact that Cheongpung and I had been invited to this meeting meant we were now recognized as part of the Alliance’s core leadership.

‘Well, even if it’s mostly symbolic.’

You could say it was the difference between rank and actual authority. Though our official titles were Pavilion Masters, in reality, we were near the bottom of the hierarchy. Still, there was no one else of our age in positions like this.

Well—except for one more besides Cheongpung.

Moyong Yeonghwi, the Lone Cavalry Dragon. Not long ago, he was hailed as the brightest rising star of the Murim. The young lord of the Moyong Clan and recently appointed division lord of the Outer Hall, he had remained in Liaoning to defend his clan while his father headed to Henan.

‘I thought I’d finally get to see his face today.’

Then again, leaving the main base unattended just to attend a meeting would’ve been foolish. The others here likely secured their own defenses the same way.

It was then that Ma Jong-hak slowly raised his hand and spoke.

“Come now, everyone. Please sit. We don’t have the luxury of wasting time on formalities.”

But no one sat back down.

No—couldn’t sit would be the more accurate expression.

As Ma Jong-hak raised his hand, something unknown began floating above the still-open doors, making it impossible for anyone to return to their seat.

“…How is he using [Object Grasping through Air] so effortlessly…”

Someone murmured in awe.

It was hard to tell exactly what the object was under the cloth, but its massive size and apparent weight were obvious. Gasps of admiration rippled through the crowd at Ma Jong-hak’s ability to move it so casually.

However, several faces had already hardened. Mine surely had as well.

‘It’s not the internal energy that’s the problem… That’s…’

Among the five senses, it was the nose—smell—that reacted first. Though even seasoned warriors of Murim would have trouble recognizing it immediately due to how faint it was, I recognized the stench at once.

“Benefactor. That smell—is it?”

I gave a small nod to Cheongpung, who was staring with wide eyes.

“Yeah. It’s the stench of a corpse.”

The unmistakable smell of death.

Having crossed back and forth between modern times and Murim, I had encountered it countless times. Of all the possible scents, this was one I was absolutely sure of. And with that came a chilling suspicion about what lay beneath the cloth.

‘If I’m right, that thing is…’

Then, at that very moment—
As the bloodstained cloth fell away, not a single person in the room could stop themselves from gasping aloud.

“…Huuuk.”

“What in the world…”

“A-Alliance Leader… What exactly is that…?”

Horrified voices burst out from all directions. Whether they already knew or were seeing it for the first time, everyone shared the same reaction: shock.

That’s how horrifying the thing beneath the cloth was.

‘Monster.’

There was no other word for it.

It had a humanoid frame at a glance, but grotesquely extended and thickened bones jutted from all over its body. Its gaping, lifeless eyes were as large as a child’s fist.

And the monstrosity didn’t stop there.

“…There’s a horn.”

“Not just that. Look at its arms…”

A single black horn protruded from the center of its forehead. Its upper torso was bulging with four arms—likely severed during combat, since they varied in length and thickness—but it was clear they had once been human arms.

“What the hell is this…”
“How can this be…”

Amid the steady stream of horrified muttering, one person finally spoke.

“Namaste. An unbelievable sight, yes. Even I couldn’t believe it at first.”

The owner of that voice was an elderly Taoist priest with long white beard and deep, sunken eyes—the Sect Leader of the Wudang Sect.

As everyone’s eyes turned toward him, a question followed.

“At first…? What do you mean?”

“Are you saying…”

The Wudang Sect Leader nodded slowly.

“That’s right. Some of you may have already heard, but that… that thing was once a fisherman named Jang Sam.”

The information I heard earlier from Hidden Reflection Pavilion now came from the lips of the old Taoist.
A man with a common name, nothing special about him, disappeared for a month—only to return to Hubei as a monstrous killer, a demon who plunged the province into terror.

“When he was first found, his martial arts were only third-rate. But his power and movement were far beyond human. And each time he reappeared, he became more grotesque—and stronger. Almost as if…”

After a pause of hesitation, the Wudang Sect Leader continued in a bitter tone.

“…as if he was feeding on humans, absorbing their [vital energy] and making it his own.”

An unseen wave of shock swept the conference room.

A stifling silence fell over the crowd.

Jeok Cheon-Gang frowned and suddenly spoke.

“You mean to say… that goddamn monster mastered [Vital Essence Absorption Demonic Art]?”

The Wudang Sect Leader shook his head.

“Namaste. Even I can’t say for sure. But if that thing really is the result of Dark Heaven’s experiments and can use that technique…”

His voice trailed off. His face was grim.

And it wasn’t just him. Everyone present in the hall had the same expression.

And for good reason.

The [Vital Essence Absorption Demonic Art] was a forbidden technique considered long extinct even within the Demonic Cult. Among the orthodox sects, it was regarded as a demonic art crafted by evil spirits themselves.

If Dark Heaven had resurrected that art and was teaching it to the monsters they created…

‘That’s not just a threat. That’s an apocalypse.’

But whether it was fortunate or not, the Wudang Sect Leader’s guess was off.

At least based on what I knew.

‘Most monsters grow rapidly.’

Wasn’t it said that it took about a month for an orc to become a full adult?

Monsters typically become stronger in one of two ways—either they’re born strong, or they absorb mana from other monsters.

‘They might gain a bit of power from eating humans… but most of the ones it killed were commoners or third-rate wanderers.’

Humans and monsters are fundamentally different in the energy they possess.

If such energy absorption were truly possible, modern monsters would already be getting harvested and sold as tonics.

‘Still, it’s a variant. I can’t be 100% sure.’

But based on everything I’ve seen, that’s the more likely explanation.

No—I’d rather that be the case. Because if monsters that can directly absorb human energy start appearing en masse, there’s no way we’ll be able to stop them.

As I was lost in thought—

Ma Jong-hak’s calm voice echoed throughout the hall.

“Pavilion Master Jin. What do you think?”

I turned my head at the mention of ‘Pavilion Master Jin,’ then froze as everyone’s eyes turned toward me.

‘Wait. Pavilion Master Jin—that’s me. Damn it. Still not used to that.’

“Are you referring to me?”

“Yes, I’m asking for your opinion.”

“Well… this is… rather…”

As I hesitated, Ma Jong-hak looked at me with a gentle expression and said,

“It’s fine. Speak however you wish.”

“It’s just that I don’t really know how to put it.”

“Then say it your way. Be brief and clear.”

Be brief and clear.

I took a moment to think, then cautiously opened my mouth.

“In my opinion, it’s a bit, or maybe quite…”

“Quite?”

Under the burning gaze of dozens of pairs of eyes, I finally said:

“…I think we’re fucked.”