Chapter 715
The room reeked of medicinal herbs. A middle-aged man trembled as he held a thick acupuncture needle, while Jeok Cheon-Gang gripped him by the collar.
‘This is a scene. This is a scene.’
Even though I’d just woken up, it wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on. The middle-aged man—probably the doctor—noticed me blinking over Jeok Cheon-Gang’s shoulder and shouted.
“Oh! Oh! He’s awake! He’s awake!”
Even my mother wouldn’t have been this happy.
I guarantee he wasn’t happy because the patient woke up. He was cheering like a victim who’d found a police officer right in front of a serial killer.
Jeok Cheon-Gang released the doctor’s collar without hesitation, then turned to look at me.
Just silently. Even after the doctor hurriedly fled, he kept staring for a long time.
Then he suddenly spoke.
“You woke up late.”
At the blunt voice, I shrugged.
I couldn’t exactly say, “I had a terrible nightmare, and you bit my neck,” could I?
“Did you sleep well?”
“Well, so-so.”
“How’s your body?”
“It’s light. My head’s clear too.”
It was true, without a hint of exaggeration. My body felt as light as a feather, and my mind—refreshed by a long sleep—was clearer than ever.
‘He said I was unconscious for seven days and nights.’
The fatigue must’ve been brutal.
It’s hard to say it myself, but it was rare for someone at my level to be out cold for a full week.
And then, without me realizing it, a word slipped out.
“That’s a relief.”
Jeok Cheon-Gang’s brows twitched.
“What do you mean?”
“That this isn’t a dream.”
“It really is a relief.”
I looked around with a strange sense of emotion.
Sunlight poured in through the half-open window, and birdsong tickled my ears. From far away, I could feel people passing by, chatting.
‘I’m alive.’
It was ironic.
Even though I was breathing and sensing everything clearly, I couldn’t easily believe I was alive.
And at the same time, an empty hollowness seized me.
In an instant, the deep darkness that had swallowed the palace, and the countless corpses collapsed with their heads buried in pools of blood, flashed through my mind.
‘Really… none of that was a dream.’
The joy and relief of surviving scattered, and guilt and bitterness filled the void.
I stared blankly at the window until a low voice pierced my ears.
“In the end, someone survives, and someone dies.”
Thump.
Warmth settled on my shoulder. Jeok Cheon-Gang gazed off into the distance and continued.
“That is the immutable order, and Murim.”
“Be grateful you survived, and commemorate those who died. That’s enough for now.”
He moved to the window and threw it open. I silently watched him stand in the pouring sunlight.
Thoughts churned, and my lips parted.
“Noya.”
At my call, Jeok Cheon-Gang smiled warmly and shook his head.
“It’s fine. Don’t say anything now.”
“Ah, that’s not it.”
“Ahem. It’s enough. I have a lot I want to ask, but for now, first organize your mind—”
“No, it’s… it’s because it’s dazzling.”
“Huh?”
I carefully pointed at Jeok Cheon-Gang’s head. His bald scalp, shining under the sun, was using Solar Beam as a passive skill.
“Close the window, or move your head a little.”
“……”
“By the way, did you use aura? You shaved it really clean. Disguise is good, but you should’ve left some hair. What if it doesn’t grow back later?”
In an instant, the warm smile vanished.
Jeok Cheon-Gang went from a kindly old man next door to the Blood Monk, glaring at me with ice-cold eyes.
“You son of a bitch…”
“No, I just asked you. Why are you swearing at a patient who just woke up?”
“Do you want to fall asleep again? Should I put you to sleep for three months and fifteen days?”
Crack.
His clenched fist sounded like bones were dislocating. Sensing real danger, I quickly spoke.
“I’ve already slept enough.”
“According to this old man’s judgment, it looks like you want to sleep more.”
“I’m really fine. This job is basically over, so I have to return to the Central Plains quickly.”
“It’s fine. When you wake up this time, you’ll be in Henan at least.”
I swallowed.
“That’s… that sounds very bad.”
“Why? Isn’t traveling just boring anyway?”
“It’s not boring at all. I like appreciating the natural scenery.”
“How about returning to nature altogether?”
“……Are you kidding me?”
“Does it sound like a joke?”
“No.”
“What I just said was a joke. Waking up in Henan is serious.”
Whoosh.
Flames rose around Jeok Cheon-Gang’s fist. I instinctively looked around, but of course, there was no fire extinguisher.
I’m screwed. Damn it.
Giving up, I asked politely.
“Please be gentle.”
“If you accept it obediently, it’s not a difficult request. Flame God Palm or Flame Extinguishing Divine Fist. Which one do you want?”
“……Does it not hurt if it’s gentle?”
“Then strong?”
“……Is there no other option besides Flame God Palm or Flame Extinguishing Divine Fist?”
“There is.”
“Oh, what is it?”
“Flame God Demonic Dance.”
I asked sincerely.
“Are you really senile?”
Bang!
Everything went white.
As I struggled with my mouth hanging open from the pain exploding in my forehead, Jeok Cheon-Gang’s blunt voice pierced my ears.
“I thought it was time for you to get up, so I stopped by for the first time in a while, but you’re perfectly fine. Don’t talk nonsense and take care of your body. This old man is leaving now.”
Thud.
The door shut the moment I opened my eyes. Rubbing my forehead with tears welling up, I muttered while staring at Jeok Cheon-Gang’s empty seat.
“Stay a little longer…”
Before that faint voice could fade, I felt vibrations ripple through the building.
Thump. Thump. Rumble!
Heavy footsteps—surprisingly heavy—and several presences rushing in behind them.
Straight for the tightly closed door Jeok Cheon-Gang had just left through.
“Hey, stop for a sec—”
But my urgent cry didn’t make it in time.
Kaboom!
The wooden door exploded, and a cloud of dust rose.
Frozen in the instantly ruined residence, I spotted familiar faces beyond the dust and burst out laughing.
Yeah. This isn’t bad either.
“Have you all been well?”
That was the signal flare.
Several figures pounced on me at once.
No—a massive figure leapt high enough to nearly reach the ceiling and swallowed everyone, including me.
Whooooong!
“Taesan! I missed you, Pavilion Lord!”
“…Ah.”
You weren’t in my calculations.
Bang!
From behind, Jeok Cheon-Gang chuckled at the loud crash.
“Tsk, they’re making a fuss.”
It was obviously that big guy’s doing—Taesan, or maybe Geo-san.
The Fire Dragon Pavilion members had come charging faster than anyone. They barely acknowledged Jeok Cheon-Gang, probably because the doctor who fled earlier had already spread the news.
‘The young ones are going to hang out, so this old man should step aside.’
Considering that, there was one old man mixed in, but to Jeok Cheon-Gang—already past one hundred—they were all young.
His rule was that anyone under eighty could chew Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron.
‘…That doesn’t sound right.’
Jeok Cheon-Gang muttered inwardly and started walking.
He looked up at the sky, now clear as if nothing had happened, and also at the Southern Barbarian people gathering in small groups after hearing Jin Taekyung had woken up.
And with the cool breeze brushing past, he thought—no, he asked a question that would never reach the one person who wasn’t here.
‘Do you really think so?’
Jin Taekyung had said it. He said he was glad it wasn’t a dream. Truly glad.
But the voice and eyes that said those words didn’t look that way to Jeok Cheon-Gang.
‘He’s blaming himself. Blaming himself for surviving. For not saving them.’
No one knows what happens to the dead.
But Jeok Cheon-Gang had watched countless people crawl out of hell alive, and he knew they lived with regret and guilt.
The Great War of Justice and Evil.
Jeok Cheon-Gang had also lived through that eternity stained with blood and death.
‘But when you overcome that, you become stronger.’
That was why he kept his words to a minimum. He had to pretend he hadn’t seen Jin Taekyung groaning and struggling even while unconscious, and he had to ask.
‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Well, so-so.’
It must’ve been a nightmare.
Yet Jin Taekyung lied shamelessly without even wetting his lips.
‘You sly bastard.’
He wasn’t angry.
He was proud that the kid was trying to endure somehow, and at the same time, he felt bitter.
Just… that was all.
So why did one corner of his heart still ache? Even while looking at every corner of the world, why did Jin Taekyung’s face keep lingering before his eyes?
‘Damn it. This old man is getting old too.’
And for some reason, he didn’t hate this part of himself.
Not the miraculous recovery he’d witnessed with his own eyes, but Jin Taekyung alone was filling his heart.
‘Well. This isn’t bad either.’
Jeok Cheon-Gang smiled faintly and moved to a quieter place. Sunlight filtering through the leaves lit up his bare scalp.
===
“Captain.”
“…What.”
“Captaiiin.”
“Why.”
“Captaiiin!”
“Stop calling me, you bastard. I’m not dead yet.”
Even with my scolding, Hyuk Mu-jin didn’t stop sobbing.
Instead, he clung to my sleeve with both hands and asked with teary eyes.
“Then when are you going to die?”
“…Are you crazy? That’s basically chanting for me to die.”
At my special order, Taesan was diligently mopping the floor while lying on his stomach. He nodded quickly.
“That’s right. Taesan also thought the Pavilion Lord would never wake up.”
I was about to be a little moved, then blinked at the wording.
“Thought? Why would you think that.”
Nam Ho, sitting in the only chair under the excuse of age, muttered.
“Why are you asking? He was expecting a feast at the funeral home. That son of a bitch.”
“Ah, no! Taesan was so worried that he drooled when he thought about the Pavilion Lord!”
That bastard. He really must’ve been looking forward to it.
Taesan’s master, Sama Pyo, met my eyes and lowered her head weakly.
“Pretend you didn’t hear that. I have nothing to say even if I had ten mouths.”
“Ten mouths? If Taesan has ten mouths…?”
“He’ll eat ten times more. Can someone put a muzzle on that guy’s mouth, please?”
As Nam Ho—one of the Southern Barbarian Party—formally proposed the Taesan Muzzle Bill, a whistling sound cut through the air from somewhere.
Swoosh, bang!
The table that was barely holding together in the chaotic residence shattered in an instant.
At the same time, a cold voice flowed from between one person’s lips.
“What… what are you doing in front of the patient?”
At Ju Hwaran’s words—spoken by the very person who had just smashed the furniture in front of the patient—everyone clamped their mouths shut.