Chapter 130 - You Are Preconceptions Incarnate

Silence fell. It was a rather long, heavy silence for two people sharing a room to bear.

The liquor I had bought was the one he had asked for just before his death. A brewery near the Divine Cult of the Heavenly Demon sold it, but no one knew why he had wanted this particular liquor. The Drunken Demon had drunk it and died.

"Why did you buy that liquor?"

His voice trembled as much as his eyes did.

His reaction convinced me that there was a story behind this liquor. Feigning ignorance, I offered an excuse.

"Because I was offended. You must have expected some renowned vintage, but I just stopped at a random place and bought it. If you sent an empty bottle to test me, you should have been prepared for ordinary local liquor. Didn't I tell you how I felt when I received that empty bottle?"

At my answer that I had bought it without any particular intent, the Drunken Demon stared at me for a moment, almost glaring.

"What's wrong? Should I not have bought this liquor?"

To allay suspicion, I had to question him instead. Rather than dodge the issue, I had to delve into it. Rather than hide anything, I had to ask outright.

"Does this liquor mean something to you?"

When I gave him a suspicious look of my own, the Drunken Demon casually changed the subject.

"You've got a temper."

"Who doesn't? We all just keep it in check."

The Drunken Demon relaxed from the upright position he had abruptly assumed and leaned against the backrest again.

"You said you understand the heart of someone lost in drink? How?"

"I was lost in it once myself."

He openly snorted at that.

"So young drunkards don't count as drunkards, either?"

It was a continuation of my earlier challenge: did a young person's story not count as a story?

"I understand. Everything feels intense at your age."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not mocking you. I'm saying age can't be helped. I don't want to act like some obnoxious senior who boasts about himself and tries to lecture you, either."

"That's exactly what you're doing right now."

"That's why I said age can't be helped, isn't it? If you're angry, drink that liquor."

Then, as though he were the angry one, he gulped down his liquor.

"Damn it!"

He slammed his cup down, breaking it. When he raised his hand, the broken pieces floated into the air and flew into a corner. A heap of broken cups lay there.

Pouring liquor into a new cup, the Drunken Demon said,

"I told you to have a drink, too."

"I'm angry, but I won't drink."

"Why?"

"I came here intending not to drink today. What would happen if I drank while dealing with the Drunken Demon?"

"A reasonable thought, but have you considered the opposite? How could you possibly deal with the Drunken Demon without drinking?"

"Then promise me one thing. Today, we'll do nothing but drink."

"Shouldn't I be saying that? Please don't get drunk and ask me to help you."

"Agreed."

I drank the liquor I had brought straight from the bottle. Even that small sip burned my throat.

"That's strong. Would you like to try it?"

The Drunken Demon shook his head.

Carrying the bottle, I walked over and sat across from him at the drinking table.

"I need food when I drink."

"What a drinker. No sense of style."

"Health matters more than style. And I'm not a heavy drinker."

I took out a silver needle and checked the dishes for poison. The sight made the Drunken Demon flare up.

"Do I look like someone who feeds poisoned food to his guests?"

"That's why I'm checking, isn't it? To see whether you are or not."

The Drunken Demon grabbed a handful from the dish I was about to test and ate it.

"What do you take me for? There's nothing like that in it! Just eat!"

"No. How can I trust you?"

When I stuck the silver needle into another dish, he grabbed some of that and ate it first, too.

"Trust me. I hate bastards who put poison or drugs in liquor or food! I'd chew them up alive."

I spoke calmly to him despite his fury.

"You're eating quite well. Please keep doing that. Think of the effort the cook put into it, too. Is the food a flower arrangement? Something you only look at?"

To be honest, I had deliberately come over to eat so I could tell him that. No one around him would dare tell the Drunken Demon to eat with his liquor.

At this rate, man, you'll die of a drinking-related illness. You love liquor so much and take such pride in it. You can't let it be what kills you.

This was a separate matter from whether he would side with me or my brother. Even if he committed evil deeds and died at my hands, I would rather he died by my sword.

If someone loved and enjoyed one thing all his life, wouldn't dying because of it be too miserable?

If he saw his future self, I could guarantee it: he would take his own life.

"Come, let's have a drink."

"Not unless you eat."

"Satisfied? Are you satisfied now?"

"Very."

We drank together. He kept giving me the feeling that another drink would be too much for him—surely another would be too much—but he kept drinking. He grew increasingly drunk.

Amid it all, I deployed my Divine Art of Flattery, as always.

"You're the most handsome of the Eight Demon Supremes."

"Everyone acknowledges that."

Flattery requires a little push and pull. Once you've said something nice, you need to say something unflattering to make the compliment shine all the brighter. Like this.

"Honestly, you're so perfectly sculpted that it makes you seem unapproachable."

"Tell the women of the world. Please, keep your distance from me."

"Ah! I can't take this. I need a drink."

Who in the world dislikes being called handsome? The Drunken Demon drank in good spirits, too.

"Once upon a time... women really did line up for me. Can you imagine an orthodox heroine and an unorthodox female master fighting over me? Ah, that takes me back."

Perhaps suddenly seized by a whim, he sprang up and stripped off his top. Before I could stop him, he launched himself into the lake.

He swam all over the place like a madman for quite some time before climbing back into the pavilion. Water dripped from his firm, muscular body, which bore numerous scars.

Come to think of it, I had never seen the Demon Supremes' bodies. Did the others bear scars like these, too? Scars demanded by their positions, just as my own body had been battered and torn while gathering materials for the great art.

"Ah, now I've sobered up a little. Come, let's start drinking again."

He returned far too composed for me to call it drunken antics. Throwing his clothes loosely back on, he resumed drinking.

I drank slowly. He drank without pause, but never forced liquor on me. That, at least, I truly appreciated.

"Shall I tell you honestly why I called you here?"

"Please do."

The Drunken Demon's reason was utterly unexpected.

"Because no one comes to see me. Why do neither you nor the First Young Master visit me? You go around seeing the other Demon Supremes readily enough. Are you looking down on me? Is that it?"

"If I were, I wouldn't have come today."

"Then why? And spare me that nonsense about the leading character appearing last."

"If I had to give a reason, I suppose it's because you somehow felt far removed from the succession struggle."

"Me?"

"Aren't you?"

"Not at all. What does my love of liquor have to do with my efforts not to be pushed out of the Cult's power struggles? Aren't they entirely separate matters? What is this? If you like liquor, you have to like people, have no thirst for power, have no greed? Is that how it works? Who decided that?"

"That must have been another preconception. You truly are preconceptions incarnate."

"Ugh, this tiresome world."

The Drunken Demon drank again. Whether happy or angry, whenever he felt any emotion, he drank. With drinking like this, it was no wonder he had died of a drinking-related illness.

After a few more cups, I asked the question I had been waiting to ask.

"Did you send my brother a bottle, too?"

"I did."

"Did he come to see you?"

The Drunken Demon shook his head.

"He sent this instead."

He extended his hand, and a box flew over from a corner.

Inside was a liquor bottle identical to the one he had sent me. And it was broken.

"Do you know what I thought when I saw this?"

"I do."

"You do? What did I think?"

"What the hell is this bastard playing at?"

When I repeated what I had said upon seeing the empty bottle he had sent me, the Drunken Demon drank, laughing as though it would kill him.

"You're entertaining, Second Young Master. How about we call each other brothers? Having a younger brother as entertaining as you would be absolutely wonderful."

"I only wish my brother felt that way."

The Drunken Demon laughed even louder and drank.

I found it puzzling.

With three Demon Supremes having formed ties with me, my brother needed every Demon Supreme he could get. Yet he had rejected the Drunken Demon's overture so blatantly?

If this was true, I needed to learn why my brother had made that choice. There had to be a reason.

"That doesn't sound like my brother."

"Perhaps you've misjudged the First Young Master."

"I doubt anyone knows my brother as well as I do."

"Listen, Second Young Master."

"Yes?"

"Do you know something? Those closest to a person see them least clearly."

He had offered a rather fine remark, only to spill his liquor in the middle of it. Perhaps embarrassed, he tried to go swimming again.

"I need to sober up a little. Those insolent fish bastards! They must have plenty of preconceptions about me, too. I'll go teach them a lesson."

I stopped him as he staggered to his feet.

"You've had enough. I need to leave now."

Honestly, I wanted to drink more. Was it because I was drinking with the Drunken Demon? Or had the thirst for liquor slumbering within me awakened? I was enjoying this drinking session.

But when it came to drinking, this was the person I had to be most wary of in all Murim. I intended to stop after finishing only the liquor I had brought.

"I'll take my leave for today."

Unable to hold himself upright, the Drunken Demon leaned against the backrest and asked,

"Will you drink with me again?"

"Anytime you invite me."

"We should call each other brothers, shouldn't we?"

Instead of answering, I asked him the very question Yi An had suggested.

"When did you have the most delicious and enjoyable drink of your life?"

I thought it an excellent question for glimpsing a facet of who he was.

His answer was unexpected.

"Now."

"You mean drinking with me? What an honor."

"Our Second Young Master certainly dreams big."

The Drunken Demon gazed at the lake with unfocused eyes.

"The liquor I'm drinking now always tastes best. Whether I'm drinking alone or with some stranger passing by. The liquor I drink in this moment is the most delicious. Even if an assassin comes to kill me after you leave, the liquor I drink with him will taste best."

With that, the Drunken Demon emptied his last cup. Perhaps the drink was finally overwhelming him; he closed his eyes, reclining against the backrest almost as though lying down. Waving for me to leave, he spoke with a drunken slur.

"What memories can there be... in liquor you've already pissed out? Farewell."

With those final words, he fell asleep.

I quietly turned and left.

Yeo Bin, the member of the Three Great Drunken Warriors who had welcomed me earlier, rowed the ferry.

When we were halfway across the lake, I looked back.

Unable to support himself, the Drunken Demon was draped over the pavilion railing like laundry, watching me.

He was too far away for his expression to be visible, but thanks to the New Eye Procedure, I could see his face clearly. His face was so red it looked ready to burst, yet his eyes were... indifferent.

His gaze was so empty that I wondered what all the liquor, jokes, and time we had shared had amounted to.

He was neither as easygoing as the Single Flower Sword Supreme found him nor as unpleasant as the Wicked Laughing Demon found him. He seemed like a drunkard yet was not one; he looked easy to handle yet was anything but.

I still did not really know what kind of person the Drunken Demon was.

* * *

After leaving Great Drunken Grove, I went straight to the Blood Heaven Saber Demon.

He was practicing his saber technique again today.

"Why have you been so absorbed in training lately?"

The Blood Heaven Saber Demon drove the Heaven-Destroying Great Saber he had been swinging into the ground and leaned against it. His body was drenched in sweat.

"You may believe you can end the succession struggle without bloodshed, but I don't."

He meant that a bloody battle might break out.

"You'll fight for me?"

"I'll fight for myself."

"Same thing."

"You've been drinking."

"With the Drunken Demon."

"With the Drunken Demon?"

"Yes. He approached me first."

How did the Drunken Demon appear to the Blood Heaven Saber Demon?

"The Drunken Demon is a devious man. Stay away from him."

A devious man. Another face of the Drunken Demon had come to light.

"Why do you only associate with bad people?"

"I'd have to find someone who isn't bad first."

The Blood Heaven Saber Demon merely smacked his lips.

"If you had to choose just one, between the Wicked Laughing Demon and the Drunken Demon?"

He could not readily choose.

"You're saying he's that devious?"

"I hate bastards who drown themselves in liquor. They're different drunk and sober. The drunken antics, the obnoxious behavior, the shameless forgetting. And the Drunken Demon stands at the very extreme of all that fucking madness."

But that was not the only reason the Blood Heaven Saber Demon disliked him.

"Have you ever seen him sober?"

"No, I haven't."

"Neither have I. Probably no one has. That's why I call him devious."

There was the decisive reason for the Blood Heaven Saber Demon's dislike.

"He has never once shown himself sober."

Was his drunken self his true self? Or was it his sober self?

"Be careful. That devious bastard has started making his move."

I didn't know what he had intended when he sent me that bottle. But perhaps, Drunken Demon, the time had finally come for you to sober up for once in your life.