Chapter 81
Chapter 81: The Poison Demon and The Strange Old Man
[Herbs and Poison Field]
"Hss, hoo……"
I exhaled slowly and opened my eyes.
‘I've reached a new realm.’
By combining the Happiness Points gained from dealing with Kim Tae-yang's attackers with the red inner core I'd consumed and circulated from the Black Bear Demon Beast Cave—
【Congratulations. Heavenly Poison Blood Divine Art Lv9】
【Congratulations. Ten Thousand Streams Return to Origin Divine Art Lv7】
……
The messages appeared.
Though I already knew without needing them.
‘I've stepped to the very peak of the Transcendent Peak realm.’
The realm of an absolute master was drawing ever closer.
The Murim Alliance Leader, the Evil Path Alliance Leader, and the Heavenly Demon—whom I would one day face.
To stand against them, I had to grow stronger without fail.
If I added Ten Thousand Streams Return to Origin to this power—
"Perhaps I could reconstruct the lost Yama's Invitation?"
Of course, Min-jeong's chocolate master mission would have to succeed before I could obtain Ten Thousand Streams Return to Origin.
Come to think of it, Min-jeong should be returning soon.
A flicker of unease stirred in me.
Heavenly Poison Blood Divine Art and Ten Thousand Streams Return to Origin Divine Art.
Training in two arts of opposite natures had been causing the two forces to clash with each other more and more.
The stronger I became, the more each force began to suppress the other.
This was different from the issue with the Reversal Secret Arts.
A direct collision of internal energies.
"How exactly did the founding ancestor manage to wield these energies as one?"
Without even a portrait to reference, I found myself holding an ancestor of the Sacheondang Family whom I'd never seen in genuine respect.
There were realizations as well.
The movements I had memorized while fighting the Black Bear Demon Beast.
The ascending art that flowed from the creature's savage instincts.
I rose to my feet, White Tiger Sword in hand.
I would forge those realizations into my current arts.
I could grow further.
"Even beyond my past life."
Internal energy surged and boiled through my meridians.
Whick!
In a single stroke I thrust the sword forward, severing my unease.
The blade's path, which had flowed gently, suddenly warped—like the fangs of a predator biting into stone.
Sword energy burst out like a howl, and the air around me twisted in an instant.
I unleashed a sequence of cuts.
At first, it was chaos.
My body moved wherever the blade led, my mind swept along by the sharpness of the edge.
I focused further.
The White Tiger Sword carved through the air, beginning to give shape to the wildness of the Black Bear.
Breathing low and drawn out.
The sword energy extending from my body struck the earth as imposingly and grandly as the massive forepaw of a great beast.
Controlled ferocity, the pure logic of survival—it settled into form as a martial sequence.
Shwick—! Boom!
The thrusting blade tip ceased its trembling, and my gaze and the tip became one.
A fierce gust, like slashing claws, swept forward and shot out from before the sword.
* * *
I returned home and turned on my phone.
First, I posted in the family message group.
— Came back safe from my trip. I'll see you at dinner.
— Good work. I'll have kimchi stew and Hanwoo beef grilling ready.
— Sounds good.
Then I made a call on the secret phone.
"Chief Han. It's me."
—Oh, yes! Where are you?
Her voice came through, warm with familiarity.
"You ask where I am every time I call."
—That's because I'd like to come to you.
"Let's meet at that café."
By the time I arrived at the café, Chief Han had gotten there first.
The same familiar scent of lilac greeted me.
I set down the large backpack I'd carried in and said, "Have you been well?"
"Thanks to you. Phew, it's hot. Still May, yet it feels like summer."
She removed her thin jacket. Short sleeves beneath.
Below the short sleeve on her right arm, from the shoulder down to the upper arm, bandaging was wrapped. It couldn't be a cut or stab wound still unhealed—she was covering the injury.
The veins below the bandage were violet.
‘……Poisoning.’
The poison of the Poison Valley she'd taken climbing the 37th floor had still not fully healed.
Come to think of it, the muscles in her left arm were more developed.
She lifted her cup with her right hand, so she was right-handed.
With her right arm impaired, she appeared to have been training relentlessly to use her spear with one hand.
Though there were one-armed swordsmen in the martial world—
There were no one-armed spear wielders.
A sword has a long blade and short grip; a spear is the opposite.
Unlike a sword, a spear shifts through ten thousand variations depending on how and where it is held—mastery with one arm is simply impossible.
Her life as a climber was effectively over.
Apart from that, scars were visible across her arm and shoulder in various places, but she paid them no mind and spoke first.
"Have you been busy lately?"
"Oh, this and that."
"The Murim Tower has turned into a Golden Tower all the way to 30th floor."
"So it has."
She brought up the Golden Tower immediately.
Her intent was plain.
She wanted to throw me off so I'd inadvertently let slip something about Ghost.
A futile scheme.
When my expression showed no change whatsoever, she switched to a different question.
"……Hmm. And the Red Dragon Gate?"
"You'd know better than I would."
"The foundation was actually established. The first round of support went out right away."
"Yes."
"Your momentum is truly impressive."
"Gate Master Lee Won-ryong did all the hard work."
"Ha ha……. Right."
When Lee Won-ryong came up, she gave a faint, bitter smile.
Those two still hadn't reconciled.
That was for them to sort out among themselves.
"I spoke with the Minister."
"About what?"
"About you taking over the Red Dragon Gate."
I said nothing and picked up my coffee cup.
She continued, "He called it a splendid choice."
"……"
"They're thugs, but someone does need to keep them gathered in one place—and since they're thugs, no one quite knows where they've all rolled in from, so hiding your identity works nicely too."
"Rolled in from."
"Oh no! That slipped out of me. Please don't misunderstand. I wasn't saying that about you—"
"It's fine."
She bit her lip.
That too seemed like a calculated move to provoke me.
The jacket she'd removed just before—she'd likely intended for me to follow suit and take off my own jacket without thinking.
If my bare skin were to show, perhaps she'd spot tattoos or scars and piece together my identity.
I cut straight to it.
"Are you curious who I am?"
"Of course."
She didn't hide it.
"You agreed not to pry."
"I haven't pried, have I?"
"You're running a re-registration process for every climber in Korea."
"……"
She went quiet.
'Climber Re-registration Procedure.'
It was a message that had come from the Gukmubon not long ago.
The stated reason was to manage and support the nation's talented climbers through re-registration—but the move was far too transparent.
They were looking for me.
"I have no choice, either."
"Is it the Minister's orders?"
"No."
"Then?"
"The Blue House."
"……"
"When those above say jump, you jump. I apologize for the inconvenience."
Chief Han's expression was peculiar.
The information she currently held was that I was a climber below the 37th floor.
Not knowing about the Purple Mist Grass that ran rampant on 37th floor was proof that I hadn't been there.
She seemed to peg me somewhere in the mid-to-upper 30s.
"Let's get to the point."
"But you called me first today, didn't you?"
"Let's not go the long way around."
She smiled faintly and opened her mouth.
"How is the antidote for 37th floor coming along?"
"I'm handling that properly."
"You'll be needing materials on poisons, won't you?"
"I'm fine."
The way she spoke—as if she already knew everything.
At that, she looked slightly caught off guard.
Chief Han had clearly been confident.
There was significant global interest, and as a result, most climbers of 37th floor, outside of a few who'd gone public, had been classified as state secrets.
That was why she had narrowed her range to 34th through 36th floors.
By compiling men in their 50s of similar ethnicity, gender, and build, she figured it wouldn't be long before she had my identity.
But my remark just now suggested someone who had already been through 37th floor—which meant her investigation was back to square one.
"How so?"
"Oh, just, you know. One way or another."
The truth was, the poisoned climber the Muinhoe had thrown at me while I raided the Choi brothers' home—that person was my sample for poison research.
Honestly, I didn't even need them.
If it was the Poison Valley's poison, I already knew it myself.
"Then…… There's nothing we can do to help."
"There is."
"What is it?"
She leaned forward.
"I heard the Gukmubon has a craftsman who makes equipment for climbers."
"We do."
"Please introduce me to them."
"I'd think you'd be fairly well-equipped already."
"I came across a fine sword recently, but I ended up donating it almost immediately."
"……"
She fell silent.
She must have recalled me taking the Iron Instrument God's sword from Jang Ae-guk and handing it over to her.
"I'm genuinely grateful for that. If you want compensation—"
"An introduction is all I need."
"If you want a sword, you could enter next month's Super Climber K—"
"Why on earth do they hold something like that?"
"They invite capable climbers from around the world, and also……"
She met my eyes and continued.
"You have to make things big to catch big fish."
I had nothing to say.
Completely incomprehensible behavior.
And I had no intention of trying to understand it.
Come to think of it, Chief Han had gotten far too bold lately.
‘I'll have to catch her and knock her down a peg.’
I asked again, my expression composed.
"Is this someone you can't introduce me to?"
She scratched her head.
"It's just that the old one is rather cantankerous. The skill is certainly exceptional, but—"
"……"
"Even if you go, you probably won't get what you want."
"Why is that?"
"They're not affiliated with our Gukmubon. They're a freelancer—and even when several sects have offered enormous sums, they won't budge. So we've been covering their back, but the person is just, well……"
Chief Han let her words trail off. A hint of displeasure showed.
"On top of that, they haven't been taking commissions lately. Something about making a 'dragon' they saw in a dream?"
‘Old, and cantankerous.’
Grandmother came to mind.
"Don't worry."
"Well then—"
She rummaged through her bag and produced a worn business card.
"Try going here."
"Can I say Chief Han sent me?"
"Say I introduced you and they'll like you even less."
"Understood."
Creak—.
I rose from my seat.
She looked at me.
"Seriously…… Who are you?"
"You'll find out when the time comes."
"When?"
"Soon."
I took a taxi.
Normally I would wait until she'd left first, then get a taxi.
She might catch which bus or taxi I took and run another trace.
But today I flagged a taxi before she did.
She already knew my destination.
* * *
"Here it is."
Following the business card Chief Han had given me, I arrived at a small factory.
The place had an old corrugated slate roof and sat in a quiet corner of the city.
The outer walls were weathered, the factory more so.
The derelict factory I'd burned down last time looked newer by comparison.
Just one thing.
"The security is tight."
Surveillance cameras everywhere. And on the road leading up to the factory, several guard posts were visible.
There was no reason to station guard posts in such a secluded spot, so the Gukmubon must have put them there to watch over the cantankerous old figure inside.
The guard at the first post spotted me walking up the hill and asked for identification.
I showed Chief Han's business card, and passage was granted without delay.
I entered the factory yard.
A forklift and pallets were visible to one side.
On another side, piles of scrap metal were heaped up—on closer inspection, weapons: blades, swords, spears, and the like.
And in one corner of the yard stood an unusual structure.
Welded together, it looked something like an insect, or perhaps a centipede—the shape of some grotesque creature.
‘So this must be the dragon they're building lately.’
It was too bizarre-looking to call it art.
Below the creature's form was a depiction of a father and daughter—the man holding his daughter and pointing at the creature, while the girl pressed her hands together in prayer.
An utterly incomprehensible scene.
"Anyone there?"
I stepped into the factory.
Keeeeee—
The sound of a grinder working something down came from inside.
Moving deeper in, beneath a work light, an old man with massively built shoulders was at work.
Around his late 60s?
"Where'd you come from?"
The old man glanced at me and asked.
Even with the Human Skin Mask on I'd look in my 50s—yet he addressed me without a drop of formality.
Not that it bothered me.
"I came to ask for some work."
"What kind of work?"
"I heard you were the best. By reputation."
"Best, my foot. I'm not making swords anymore. Just leave me alone, would you."
He turned back and picked up the grinder again.
Keeeeee—. Sparks flew.
It looked like the part that would become the head of the thing outside. Shaped like an ant's head at a glance.
Hadn't they said a dragon?
If that head were attached……
‘It would probably look like a centipede.’
I said nothing and pulled up a chair and sat.
The old man ignored me and kept working.
I sat and looked around the factory at my leisure.
Weapons piled here and there.
Every single one had come from the tower.
‘Impressive.’
That's the stock of several Black Market stalls combined.
The value alone would be staggering.
A thought crossed my mind that the guards weren't there for the old man but for this fortune—but I let it go just as quickly.
The old man alternating between welding and grinding was no ordinary skill.
Not at the level of the Iron Instrument God, but quite something to behold.
With the help of this craftsman and modern machinery, the result could at least be compared to the renowned smiths of the martial world.
About 30 minutes passed.
"Blast it, you're getting on my nerves!"
He flung his welding mask in irritation.
Then he turned and came toward me.
With a grinder still in hand, it looked like he might be thinking of threatening me.
"I told you. No more swords. Not until that thing outside is done!"
"……"
"Are you deaf? I'm already going half-mad because nothing's coming out right, and why is everyone pestering an old man like me?!"
The old man kept shouting in an agitated voice.
"Ever since then, my hammer swings go wide, and every piece I make comes out a failure. I can feel it! I can only work properly once I've finished that dragon to perfection—"
"I think I may be able to help."
"What?"
Thud.
I set my backpack on the work table.
Zzzip. I unzipped it and pulled out the shell and legs of the red centipede.
"……Goo, good heavens!"
Watching his eyes go wide, I said,
"It seems I was that dragon."