Chapter 2 - You Were the One Who Pushed Me

Unfeeling time slipped inexorably by.

The world still belonged to Hwa Mugi. Rumor had it that he had grown even stronger. Through ceaseless training, he advanced toward the ultimate truths of martial learning.

The Greatest Alliance Under Heaven was governed by twelve supreme masters among his followers. The world called them the Twelve Zodiac Kings.

The supreme ruler had united Murim, but life had not improved. All manner of injustice ran rampant in connection with the Twelve Zodiac Kings. Those who pleased them gained renown; those who defied them lost their lives. Life had become even harsher than when the world was divided among the orthodox, unorthodox, and demonic factions.

Meanwhile, the Orthodox Martial Alliance, the Unorthodox Alliance, and the Demonic Cult still could not reopen their sealed gates. Everyone said they would never be able to do so as long as Hwa Mugi lived.

Just when the Ghost Adept began to assume he must have died in some nameless valley, the man returned.

He had been in the prime of youth when they first met. Now he was middle-aged, with gray at his temples. His bearing had acquired a maturity incomparable to what it had been then.

He had changed. His face and body were deeply tanned, as though he had traveled the entire world, and several unfamiliar scars marked him. He had become fearsome, but his eyes—cold yet clear, unassuming yet profound—were exactly as they had been on his first visit.

“Here. The inner core of a ten-thousand-year fire carp.”

The box he held out truly contained the carp’s inner core.

“It really existed!”

The Ghost Adept’s voice trembled.

“How in the world did you obtain it?”

“I searched every place it might be. I can proudly say I’m a supreme master of climbing mountains, swimming, diving, and camping. I could draw a map of the Central Plains with my eyes closed.”

“Truly remarkable.”

“Obtaining it wasn’t the remarkable part. Not going mad in the process was.”

A thought suddenly struck the Ghost Adept. Perhaps this was not the inner core of a ten-thousand-year fire carp, but the man’s will itself. As he entertained the strange image of billowing sky-blue resolve flowing from the man’s body and forming the core, the man urged him on again.

“Now, what’s the next material?”

“Don’t you want to boast a little?”

What extraordinary adventures must have gone into obtaining the previous materials? In his place, the Ghost Adept would have been unable to resist boasting about those triumphs to anyone who would listen.

“I’ll boast to that bastard’s corpse all I want after I kill him. I’ll repeat myself over and over, preserve him as a mummy, and keep at it for the rest of my life. ‘You see, to kill you...’”

“It feels strange hearing you make jokes like that.”

The Ghost Adept wanted to laugh and chat with this man, to talk about Murim and life. But, as always, the man was in a hurry.

“Now, what’s the fourth material?”

“Money.”

The unexpected answer prompted a question.

“How much do you need?”

“Five million taels.”

It was an unimaginably vast sum, but the man’s reaction was the same as ever.

“I’ll be back.”

The Ghost Adept knew that even if he had said a hundred million taels, or a billion, this man would spring to his feet and promise to return.

Perhaps he would look at him and add a joking remark: Should I just kill you and give the whole thing up?

But he was a man who would press silently toward his goal. The Ghost Adept was witnessing the most extreme example of how terrifying a person’s resolve could become when they were truly pissed off.

“Wait a moment.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll provide the money. My family has been saving for generations for this great art. I’ll use those funds.”

“Why?”

“Because making the art succeed is a cherished wish of mine and my family’s as well.”

“Good. Thank you. Truly, thank you. That will save a great deal of time.”

The man was genuinely delighted.

“Then will you spend today having a drink with me?”

“I’ll have just one cup before I leave.”

“What a heartless fellow.”

They brought out the liquor, sat side by side on a rock in the yard, and poured it into large cups. Both drank slowly, savoring it.

“When we first met, we were both full of vigor.”

“My body is aging, but my heart hasn’t changed. I’m striving desperately to stay young.”

“Why make such an effort?”

“Because I’m going back to my younger self. Whether I go back at fifty, sixty, or a hundred, I’m still the man who came to you that day. My time stopped then.”

Had he heard those words when they first met, the Ghost Adept would have thought, Your effort is admirable, but is that remotely possible? Now, however, he knew better than anyone how extraordinary the man’s willpower was.

“If the art truly succeeds, and you can return to the past, may I ask you a favor?”

“Go ahead.”

“If you return to the past, be sure to come find me.”

“And then?”

The Ghost Adept let out a long sigh.

“Stop me from getting married.”

The utterly unexpected request made the man burst out laughing.

“Hahaha!”

It was the first time he had laughed since they met.

“I’m not joking. Please, make sure you stop me.”

“Is that more important than five million taels?”

“To me, it is. Tell me to live alone for the rest of my life. Please do that for me.”

“Very well.”

The Ghost Adept told him which year he would marry, then urged him again.

“Promise me. Promise you’ll stop me.”

“I promise.”

They finished the remaining liquor.

“What’s the last material?”

“Something you know as well.”

“What is it?”

“The Secret Demon Soul.”

Knowing what it was, the man’s gaze darkened.

“It was your late father’s sacred relic.”

“I know. Father never let it leave his person for even a moment.”

“Do you have it?”

The man shook his head.

“Do you know where it is?”

“No.”

“What if, by some chance, Hwa Mugi has it?”

“Then all these years of hardship will have been for nothing. Even if we’re fortunate enough that it remains in my Cult, obtaining it won’t be easy.”

The Demonic Cult was now led by a new cult leader, its gates still sealed.

Though Hwa Mugi’s might prevented it from reopening, it had spent the intervening years building its strength and consolidating itself from within.

They would hardly welcome him back simply because he was the previous cult leader’s son. On the contrary, when he appeared after being presumed dead, the new leader would try to kill him.

“Still, let’s hope it’s in my Cult.”

“Don’t take too long. I’m old now, too.”

“Do not die before I return. Thank you for the drink.”

Downing the last of his liquor, the man departed.

The Ghost Adept stood there for a very long time, watching him disappear into the distance.

After that departure, the man did not return. Nor did any news arrive of trouble in the Demonic Cult. Even so, the Ghost Adept always kept an ear out.

The years passed and passed, until he too had grown old, his face covered in age spots.

Today, once again, he sat blankly on the wooden porch, staring at the place where the man had always stood.

Then he rubbed his eyes, as though he had seen an apparition.

Someone was staggering toward him.

It was that very man.

The man who had left to obtain the final material had returned.

He had changed beyond recognition. His face was so badly mutilated that he looked like someone else, and he had lost his right eye and left arm. His body was soaked in blood; beneath his clothes, it seemed certain to be covered in wounds.

The sight left the Ghost Adept speechless.

After handing over the Secret Demon Soul, the man sank to the ground.

“You... how in the world did you obtain it?”

“... Let’s go somewhere you can perform the art.”

He did not even have the strength to answer.

The Ghost Adept supported him and took him to the place where he would perform the art.

Everything there was ready.

The final material, awaited for so long.

The Ghost Adept took the Secret Demon Soul and placed it in the center. Like the final stroke that brought a painted dragon to life, it shone brightly, and all manner of strange pictures and characters began to appear around it.

He stood before it and began reciting an incantation.

Blue and red light began enveloping their surroundings. The Thunderous Sound Bell rang, and incense rose from the Divine Mysteries Incense Burner.

As his incantation reached its climax, the principal materials merged into one, and a shimmering mass of light appeared there. It looked like an entrance leading somewhere.

“I did it!”

The Ghost Adept’s face overflowed with emotion. This was the moment he fulfilled the cherished wish his family had passed down for hundreds of years.

He approached the man, who sat leaning against a pillar. Was it because he had lost so much blood? He was unconscious. Instead of waking him and helping him up, the Ghost Adept spoke softly.

“... I’m sorry.”

He had decided to return to the past himself.

“I’m truly sorry.”

Knowing how hard the man had struggled to obtain the materials made him feel all the more guilty. But these were things they could never obtain again.

“I will find you and warn you of the calamity ahead. I promise.”

The Ghost Adept rose and turned toward the light.

“Returning to the past has been my family’s lifelong dream. Mine as well.”

Just as he was about to walk toward it...

“Ugh.”

The Ghost Adept flinched and stopped in place.

His paralysis point had been struck. He could not even tell when it had happened.

A languid voice came from behind him.

“How could you do this?”

The man he had thought unconscious rose to his feet.

“My friend...”

The Ghost Adept’s voice trembled.

The man staggered over and stopped before him.

“You, of all people... how could you do this?”

The man seized the Ghost Adept by the throat. His old, frail neck looked as though it might snap at any moment.

“... I must have lost my mind. Ah, sob... I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”

The Ghost Adept thought the man would kill him. Yes, whatever anyone else might have done, he should never have done this. He alone knew how hard the man had struggled to gather the materials for this art.

Then the man released his grip.

“I’m selfish, too. Perhaps I could gather all those materials because I cared about nothing but myself. So it’s all right. Anyone else, I would have killed with a single palm strike. But you, I understand.”

The man did not reproach him. Instead, he spoke warmly, his gaze sincere.

“Thank you for waiting for me all your life.”

At those heartfelt words, tears welled in the Ghost Adept’s eyes. Guilt mingled with regret. They could have had a far better farewell. They truly could have.

It happened at the very moment his tear fell.

Impossibly, the world stopped.

“Huh?”

Startled, the man looked around. All movement had ceased. A butterfly in flight hung in the air like a painting, and blades of grass bent by the wind remained bowed without rising.

The Ghost Adept standing before him was no different. His fallen tear, too, hung in midair.

The man wondered whether he was hallucinating from blood loss.

Just then, an old man appeared in that place where time had stopped for everyone but him.

“You have passed every test.”

Startled by the old man’s words, he asked,

“Who are you?”

“Someone who can send you into the past.”

“!”

“How could human strength defy the laws of Heaven? Did you think mere spiritual creatures and rare treasures could make that possible?”

The old man raised his hand, and the five extraordinary objects the man had spent his life gathering reappeared, floating around him. These were the materials that had vanished earlier with the art.

In that instant, the man knew: the old man was a being beyond humanity.

“The true materials for this art are not these objects, but the effort you devoted to gathering them.”

The old man waved his hand, and the objects vanished like smoke.

“You passed the tests. You sacrificed yourself all your life, living for a single purpose. And forgiving that Ghost Adept was the final test. It was, in fact, the most difficult one, yet you passed it most easily.”

The man trembled all over. All his life, he had thought Heaven indifferent, and therefore believed there was no Heaven at all. Yet a being he took to be Heaven stood before his eyes. Soon, his astonishment turned to anger.

“Are you a being who answers only after someone makes this much effort? Are you really so high and mighty?”

“Don’t be so angry. Other people can see me more easily than you did. Some meet me every day. But your wish is not one that can be readily granted, is it?”

That much, the man conceded. He was not asking to become rich or marry a beautiful woman. His wish was to return to the past.

“Let me go back.”

“And then?”

“I’ll kill the bastard who deserves to die and save the people who shouldn’t have died.”

Killing Hwa Mugi and saving everyone came first.

And there was something just as important.

“And... I want to live my life properly. Perhaps I’m so desperate to return as much because I regret my life as because I’m angry at Hwa Mugi.”

“What do you regret so much?”

“Everything. From birth until now, I haven’t led my own life. Something kept pushing me along. Pushed this way, pushed that way, until it was all over... Was it you? Were you the one pushing me?”

The old man smiled awkwardly and asked,

“What sort of life do you want after you’ve taken your revenge?”

“I don’t know myself. I might succeed my father as the Heavenly Demon, or quietly turn my back on the world. I might become a lecher who takes every beauty in the world for himself, leave the Cult and spend my life beating up scumbags, or become a scumbag myself... I haven’t decided anything.”

“I’m curious to see what sort of life you’ll lead, too. I look forward to that new life.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s have a drink the next time we meet.”

With those words, the old man vanished.

‘Next time?’

He had a premonition that the old man might appear before him again someday.

At the same moment, time began flowing again. The suspended butterfly beat its wings and flew through the sky, the grass swayed in the wind, and the Ghost Adept’s tear fell from midair to the ground.

“I’m sorry. Truly.”

The man silently regarded the Ghost Adept, who wept in apology. He would never dream that his art was a great art connected to Heaven’s will. Heaven might make the final decision, but the Ghost Adept’s art was unquestionably the medium that linked them to it.

With an anguished expression, the Ghost Adept pleaded,

“Ah! I know I have no right to ask, but don’t forget your promise! You have to stop my marriage!”

The man chuckled. Even now, so old and close to death, he was making the same request.

“Is it still hell?”

“An even hotter hell. I’m ashamed to ask, but please. If I refuse to listen to the very end, rip my cock off.”

“It’s that bad?”

“Worse.”

“Good. Then it should be punishment enough for trying to betray me. Go through that hell one more time.”

“Ah! My friend! Please!”

Leaving the wailing Ghost Adept behind, the man walked toward the light.

As he watched it embrace the man and begin scattering in a brilliant radiance, the Ghost Adept was overwhelmed with emotion. But in the end, this was what he wanted to say.

“I want to go, too! Aaaaaah! I’m the one who wants to go!”