Chapter 186 - It Isn’t Easy, Is It?

A heavy silence settled over us.

No one here had died, but something had. All the bravado, bluster, and arrogance the Black Fists had carried until now had most certainly just perished.

Naturally, the looks they gave me had changed completely. Awe, fear, anger. Each held a different emotion, according to its owner's temperament.

The Fist Demon broke the silence.

“Do you understand now why you should fear a sword?”

“Yes!”

The Black Fists answered thunderously.

“When I first taught you fist arts, I told you not to fear swords. But now you must learn to fear them.”

Sometimes they must be fearless, and sometimes they must be afraid. They needed to hold both attitudes within them. That was the lesson the Fist Demon had wanted to give his subordinates today.

“That will be all for today.”

With that, the Fist Demon left first. He did not show it in front of his subordinates, but I could sense that my display of martial prowess had stirred him deeply as well.

The remaining Black Fists could not disperse as they usually did. Instead, they stared at me. Here and there, I saw eyes filled with awe. Demonic martial artists prized the strong by nature, and their desire to become strong themselves was exceptionally fierce.

Cheon Sohui spoke on their behalf.

“Why are you learning fist arts when you're this strong? Is it some sort of amusement for the powerful?”

It was an extremely provocative question.

That single move had left her shaken. At the same time, she was furious with herself for having been helpless against it. Her unwillingness to lose to anyone was probably what would allow her to become the next Fist Demon.

I calmly answered with a question.

“How could learning fist arts be an amusement?”

“Then why do you want to learn?”

Why? Because I had developed a burning desire to bring down that cliff with this fist.

“When my sword flew toward you earlier, both my hands were empty. What if someone had attacked me then? What should I do against a master who won't give me a chance to recall my sword? I want to learn for that moment. A punch that catches my opponent off guard will save my life.”

Cheon Sohui stared intently at me. She was probably wondering whether I meant it, but she was still too young to read my mind.

After saying that, I too left the training ground.

Just as the fates of everyone connected to me were changing, theirs would also change in one way or another. I could only hope it would be for the better.

* * *

That night, I was practicing fist arts.

I slowly worked through every form I had learned, from the White Fists to the Black Fists, without skipping a single one. Only with a firm foundation in these basic fist arts would I be able to properly learn the Fist Demon's exclusive art.

PA-PA-PA-POW!

I loved the sound of my fists striking the air. I yearned to learn the Fist Demon's art and reach complete mastery as soon as possible.

“Still hard at work, even at this late hour.”

My visitor was the Fist Demon. Every time I heard it, I was surprised by how calm his voice was in contrast to that terrifying face. Which resembled his true nature more: his face or his voice?

In truth, I had had a feeling he would come. I had thought he was bound to respond to the skill I had displayed earlier.

“I started late, so I must work twice as hard.”

“Even if you work ten times as hard rather than twice, I will not accept you as my disciple.”

“May I ask why?”

The Fist Demon did not answer, but the heat in his eyes answered for him. He wanted to fight me. He could hardly fight his own disciple.

“You want to fight me.”

Just as he had kindled a fire in my heart, I had kindled one in his.

“I won't fight you.”

The moment I fought him, I would lose my chance to learn his fist arts. There was only one way to learn from the Fist Demon. The succession struggle, political issues—none of that mattered. Martial arts had to be what bound us together. I had to make him want to fight me so badly that he would ultimately teach me. That was my plan.

“Why won't you fight?”

Just as he had done, I gave no answer. As he stared at me, the Fist Demon realized what lay behind my refusal.

“You're worried you might defeat me.”

Intense emotion flickered across his face. Since taking the name Invincible, he had probably never encountered anyone who worried about defeating him. He would only have seen people desperately struggling not to die at his hands.

“Second Young Master, you needn't worry about that. The martial arts you practice were taught to you by the Cult Leader. There would be no shame in losing to you.”

I too looked beneath the surface of his words.

“Do you want to fight me? Or do you want to win?”

For a moment, the Fist Demon visibly flinched.

“Is there a difference?”

Rather than arrogance, his words reflected something closer to this:

“You're so accustomed to winning that you don't even feel the difference.”

He strode over and thrust his face close to mine again. Having to look at that terrifying face from so close was honestly more potent than an incoming punch.

“What are you trying to say?”

I recalled what the Wicked Laughing Demon had told me: that I would learn what sort of man the Fist Demon was when he lost.

“It might be different if you were the Blood Heaven Fist Demon or the Wicked Fist Demon. But as long as you're the Invincible Fist Demon, accepting defeat won't be easy for you.”

“You think the shock of defeat would make me break my promise? What kind of man do you take me for?”

The Invincible Fist Demon's face twisted savagely. He looked so frightening that I almost expected the ground beside him to split open and evil spirits to leap out of hell.

“Teach me your fist arts first. Then I will settle the contest with you.”

The Fist Demon snorted, his expression dismissing the idea as absurd.

“You will have to fight me first.”

With those words, he turned and walked away.

Sorry, but that wasn't your card to play. As long as you were obsessed with martial arts, as long as you had built a legend of invincibility, that card belonged to me.

Because I could wait, but you would not be able to.

* * *

Cheon Sohui watched Geom Mugeuk in silence.

Despite yesterday's extraordinary uproar, he joined the Black Fists' training as usual. He was absorbed in his practice as though nothing had happened.

The Black Fists, however, were different. They had arrived with wound salve applied to their sides, and they displayed a fervor unlike the day before.

“I was born again yesterday.”

One of the Black Fists even said it openly.

Whether or not he was aware of these changes and the stir he had caused, Geom Mugeuk remained wholly absorbed in his own training.

His movements were more precise than anyone else's there, and he understood the forms better. Any suspicion that someone must have secretly taught him the forms because he was the Cult Leader's son had vanished with yesterday's display of skill.

“There's something I'd like to ask. Would that be all right?”

Just as the Red Fists had done, some of the Black Fists were beginning to ask Geom Mugeuk about the forms.

“Of course.”

He earnestly explained what the man had asked about.

In just one day, the atmosphere among the Black Fists had changed this much.

After training ended that day, Cheon Sohui approached Geom Mugeuk.

“I lost the wager, so I'll keep my promise. Tell me what favor you want.”

His answer was something she had never expected.

“Make me the Fist Demon's disciple.”

For a moment, she stared at him in disbelief.

“Then make me the Cult Leader's successor.”

She said it assuming he was joking.

But his expression soon told her that he had been serious.

“You're not joking.”

“Of course not.”

“I haven't even become his disciple myself. How am I supposed to make you one?”

At this point, the Fist Demon had yet to choose a formal disciple. A perfectionist when it came to martial arts, he did not make such decisions lightly.

“That's for you to figure out. You're the one who lost the wager.”

“I didn't know you'd ask for something so ridiculous.”

“Then why didn't you say so at the time? That there needed to be limits on the favor?”

“Well... I assumed anyone with common sense would naturally ask for something reasonable.”

“Was that really why? Or did you simply not bother because you thought you'd win?”

She could not argue. Geom Mugeuk was right. When they made their wager, she had been about to say that neither could demand anything unreasonable. But her instincts had stopped her.

She had thought there was no need to say it when she was sure to win.

“All right. I admit it.”

Geom Mugeuk smiled. Had she not been so honest, he would have teased her a little more.

“What are you admitting anything for? When someone asks for something this ridiculous, you should firmly refuse and forget about it.”

She stared at him for a moment, bewildered.

He really was impossible to figure out.

She turned away. After a few steps, however, she stopped. She had lost the wager, after all, and simply walking away wounded her pride. She turned back.

“All right, let's say I have the ability to do that. Even then, if you become his disciple, my chances of becoming one go down. Why would I help you?”

“You're wrong about that. If I become his disciple, your chances will go up.”

“Why?”

“Accepting the first disciple is the difficult part. After that, the way will be open, and he'll accept a second and a third. And I'll strongly recommend you as my junior sister.”

“Me? Why?”

Geom Mugeuk looked at her and spoke calmly.

“Because I think you'll do better than anyone else. Because you seem the best suited to become the next Fist Demon.”

She wondered whether he was teasing her again, but his expression was serious.

A powerful emotion rose in her chest. She had never heard such words since entering the Eastern Fist School.

She herself, her peers, her seniors and juniors—all of them had run with their eyes fixed only on the top. From the White Fists to the Black Fists, they had pushed onward as though falling behind meant death.

They were peers who had suffered together, yet she had never sincerely said anything kind to any of them. Nor had anyone said such things to her.

Instead, deep down, she had quietly hoped that the others would struggle more than she did. That they would fall out of the competition. That she would become the Fist Demon.

Geom Mugeuk, whom she had met only a few days ago, said these things without hesitation. Yet throughout all those long years, they had never once exchanged such words.

It wasn't the fact that she had never heard them that left her bitter. Her heart felt troubled because she seemed to have discovered how small-minded she was, never having said them to anyone herself.

“You barely know me!”

She snapped at him, then turned and left.

* * *

That night, Cheon Sohui had trouble falling asleep.

Geom Mugeuk's words kept coming back to her. Was she truly suited to become the Fist Demon?

After tossing and turning, unable to sleep, she could bear it no longer and headed to his residence.

It was so late that she hadn't even expected to see him. She had gone simply because she felt restless, but to her surprise, Geom Mugeuk was practicing martial arts.

He was training so earnestly that she could not even announce her arrival. She stood quietly, afraid she might disturb him.

Eventually, having completed a round of forms, Geom Mugeuk sat on a flat rock in the courtyard and asked,

“Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you.”

Cheon Sohui sat beside him. The smell of his sweat was not entirely unpleasant.

“I know it's late, but I had to come and make sure of something. If you become his disciple, will you really recommend me as your junior sister?”

“I will.”

How much should she believe? Whenever the Black Fists gathered for drinks, there were things they always said. Trust no one. That was the first rule of surviving long in Murim.

“My goal is to learn the Fist Demon's martial arts. It will be my junior sister who inherits his position.”

Now that such a powerful temptation actually lay before her, she found it hard to judge.

“My junior sister, whose senior brother will be the Heavenly Demon.”

Yes, this must be why people fell for it. Even knowing perfectly well that it was sweet talk, their hearts raced like this, and they were deceived.

What if he was luring her in to use her? What if, after exploiting her for all she was worth, he killed her to silence her? His sword rose in her mind. As it pierced her face, he would surely say, 'You naive bitch.'

Just then, Geom Mugeuk spoke to her in a calm voice.

“Life isn't easy, is it?”

Those softly spoken words went straight into her heart.

For a moment, she wanted to shout. What did he know about her, to keep acting as though he understood? It was easy. She was managing her life just fine. What was so difficult about it? She just had to keep running and running. Keep her eyes on the top and run.

But the words that left her mouth conveyed her heart's feelings rather than her mind's.

“... It isn't.”

She answered before she knew what she was saying. She had never shown anyone weakness. Never told anyone that life was hard. She had held it in so well until now.

The moment she admitted it, tears streamed down her face. Their sudden appearance startled her all the more. They had spilled out before she had any chance to hold them back.

Could tears really start flowing so suddenly? She wasn't feeling sad at all, so why was she crying? She had not shed tears since she was old enough to know better, and she was utterly flustered.

“N-no, this isn't...”

Just as she hurriedly wiped her tears with her sleeve, someone entered and spoke.

“I knew it! Investigator Seo was right about you being an incorrigible womanizer. First a fated love, and now you're even making women cry.”

Geom Mugeuk broke into a broad smile at the sight of the newcomer, while Cheon Sohui stared in astonishment. Never in her life had she seen such a beautiful woman.