Chapter 221 - Someone Who Wants to Say Who He Is

That evening, I practiced my martial arts in the mountains some distance from our lodgings. Even after leaving the Cult, I devoted myself to training whenever I had a spare moment.

At first, the Poison King watched me suspiciously, wondering whether I was training just for show. But when he saw that I wasted none of the little pockets of time between other tasks, he shook his head and called me relentless. And how could my training possibly have been ordinary?

A person's martial arts change only when the person changes.

I considered this one of the ultimate truths of martial study, but there was one condition: even while striving to change as a person, one had to train to the point of exhaustion. If intention raced ahead without training to match, then even if the person changed, their martial arts would not.

I practiced the Thunderbolt Asura Fist first, then honed the Wind God's Four Steps, and made sure not to neglect the Heaven-Soaring Sword Art.

Finally, I trained using all three arts in combination. When I faced a truly formidable opponent, how efficiently I deployed these three arts would determine victory or defeat.

The Supreme Divine Pill of Myriad Poisons had increased not only my internal energy but also changed its quality. It felt deeper and purer. As a result, my moves had become more powerful even when I used the same amount of internal energy.

I finished my training by standing atop a high rock and watching the setting sun.

* * *

After a vigorous training session, Geom Mugeuk stopped by the marketplace. He visited the home of an old woman reputed to have the finest hands in town.

"Is it finished?"

"Here, all done. What do you think?"

Geom Mugeuk examined what she held out and smiled.

"It's excellent."

He paid the agreed price and left. Once back at their lodgings, he headed for the Poison King's room.

The Poison King was pacing alone in his room, lost in thought. Then, as though something had occurred to him, he rushed to the desk and picked up his brush.

He diligently wrote down his idea, only to get up and pace again when he apparently reached another impasse. Once more, he sank into deep thought. Then he abruptly rushed back to jot something down.

"You're still awake?"

As Geom Mugeuk entered, the Poison King closed the booklet he had been writing in.

"What brings you here at this late hour?"

"I came to give you something."

Geom Mugeuk held out what he had commissioned at the marketplace: a pair of gloves.

"What are these?"

Even at a glance, there was something extraordinary about them.

"Gloves made from poison-repelling heavenly silkworm silk."

The Poison King was startled.

"Poison-repelling heavenly silkworm silk?"

The fabric offered incomparably better protection than ordinary poison-resistant deerskin gloves. Where supreme-grade heavenly silkworm silk resisted external impacts, poison-repelling heavenly silkworm silk was a treasure that resisted poison.

"Where did you find something so precious?"

"In Ji Saeng's secret treasury. I had the most skilled old woman in the marketplace make it into gloves. Try them on. I had them made the same size as the gloves you wore in the Thousand-Poison Forest, so they should fit."

The green cloth wrapped around the counterfeit ultimate-grade night-shining pearl had been poison-repelling heavenly silkworm silk. The pearl had been wrapped in it to preserve the potency of the Supreme Divine Pill of Myriad Poisons inside. The deceased person who had hidden the pill in the pearl must have been an accomplished poison practitioner.

"Why give something so precious to me?"

"Because it's precious. Though I find it stranger that you, the Poison King, haven't had anything like this until now."

"Have you ever seen a master calligrapher blame his brush?"

"A brush doesn't kill people. Whenever you handle potent poisons from now on, make sure you use these."

He gave him the remaining cloth as well.

"I thought you might have other uses for the rest, so I brought it along separately."

After freely handing over the remaining poison-repelling heavenly silkworm silk, Geom Mugeuk turned to leave.

"Sleep well, then. We'll be leaving early tomorrow."

He said his farewell and left the room.

It had all happened so suddenly that the Poison King had not even managed to thank him properly.

He gazed blankly down at the gloves and cloth. Then something caught his eye. Words had been embroidered on the gloves.

On the back of one glove:

Above the Heavens and Below.

On the other:

I Alone Reign Supreme in Poison.

It was a play on "I alone reign supreme," with the character for "alone" replaced by the character for "poison."

Deep emotion crossed the Poison King's face.

Becoming the Poison Supreme was his dream. And he had never shared that dream with anyone. He had not even told Sang Seon, who served him with such devotion.

At last, the Poison King shook his head and said,

"So this is why they all fell for it, even knowing what was happening. Truly, a poison with no antidote."

But he could not conceal the warm emotion that touched his eyes.

* * *

The snake tattoo etched across the man's chest extended all the way to his neck, its long tail coiling around it once.

A man with a snake wrapped around his neck.

He was Ae Cha, one of Yelü Han's four henchmen. There was a reason he had chosen a snake out of all the animals. He had a snake's eyes. Viewed in isolation, they could easily have belonged to a snake. His cold, savage qi presence made him seem all the more serpentine.

Reading a dispatch, Ae Cha said,

"Apparently, Ji Saeng is dead."

The True Poison Recluse, before him, reacted with shock.

"How?"

The True Poison Recluse wore neat clothing like a scholar's, but his dark, wrinkled skin prevented him from achieving the scholarly appearance he desired. His voice, too, was unpleasantly cracked.

"As you know, he had been putting an impostor out front for years. It seems that impostor killed Ji Saeng and ran off with his fortune."

He delivered the news calmly, without a trace of mourning. He conveyed only facts, not feelings.

"He was so cautious. He wasn't someone who would die easily."

Ji Saeng's death was truly unexpected. Even if everyone else died, he should have been difficult to kill.

But the Alliance's investigation had concluded that the impostor was definitely responsible. With Ji Saeng as the victim, they would have investigated thoroughly.

The True Poison Recluse, who had been listening quietly, made an unexpected remark.

"Perhaps it was only natural."

He voiced what Ae Cha wanted to say.

"He pretended to be a carriage driver and acted as though he were some great man of mystery, but to me, he was nothing more than a coward. Cowards never come to a good end."

Sure enough, a strange smile formed on Ae Cha's lips.

"Now that he's dead, the overdue appraisals are coming out."

The mockery carried a rebuke: Why say that only now?

Irritation surged through the True Poison Recluse.

'I said what you wanted to say, you bastard. Even if you won't agree with me, at least don't spit in my face.'

It was always like this. In situations like these, Ae Cha invariably said something unpleasant.

The True Poison Recluse considered it a twisted desire for dominance. He used negative remarks to ensnare others and gain the upper hand in their relationships. This was how he handled his subordinates.

Hiding his discomfort, the True Poison Recluse smiled.

"Isn't that why the dead are the only ones to be pitied?"

Ae Cha was so cruel that the Recluse had repeatedly seen people end up dead once they fell out of his favor. Still, he had no intention of being cowed.

WHOOSH!

Ae Cha burned the dispatch in the lamp flame. To the very end, he offered not a single word of mourning.

When the dispatch had crumbled to ash, he abruptly asked,

"Have you still not eliminated the side effects?"

The corner of the True Poison Recluse's eye twitched. It was no easy feat to offend someone this consistently. The bastard must live under the impression that he had three lives to spare.

"I'm working on it."

"You must eliminate them soon. There was an incident in Demonic Cult territory recently. If a family member of a prominent figure in the Demonic Cult or the Orthodox Martial Alliance falls victim, we'll have trouble."

In truth, Ae Cha feared neither the Demonic Cult nor the Orthodox Martial Alliance. He feared Yelü Han's reprimand in the aftermath. Yelü Han was the only person in the world he feared.

"I'll resolve it as quickly as possible."

"By when?"

"Give me six months."

"I'll give you one."

The True Poison Recluse's expression hardened.

He had asked for six months expecting Ae Cha to shorten the deadline. He had thought he would be told to finish within three months—but one? This was an outright show of disrespect.

Taut tension stretched between them.

The True Poison Recluse felt an urge to unleash poison straight into that face. Whatever gave him such confidence, Ae Cha did not fear his poisons. Of course, that was probably why Yelü Han had assigned such a man to keep him under control.

"I'll resolve it as quickly as possible."

"Let's do that."

For now, the True Poison Recluse backed down. But Ae Cha needed to understand: he was yielding because of Yelü Han, not because he feared him.

"I'll take my leave, then."

"I'm counting on you, Recluse."

Ae Cha watched him leave with his snake-like eyes.

'Nothing but needless pride.'

If they could not eliminate Berserk's side effects, they would have to abandon it. But most of their income came from Berserk, so giving it up was out of the question.

'Old man, shouldn't you first admit that you were wrong?'

The True Poison Recluse had yet to admit, even once, that he had made a mistake in creating it.

Ae Cha had grievances of his own.

Once outside, the True Poison Recluse asked the subordinate waiting for him,

"How many subjects do we have left?"

"Seven."

"And the next batch?"

"They're on their way."

The Unorthodox Alliance sent martial artists for the True Poison Recluse to use in his experiments. All had been imprisoned by the Alliance. They had crossed the line so far that even the Unorthodox Alliance had locked them up—truly the worst scum under heaven.

"When are they due to arrive?"

"It will take about twenty days."

"Too late! Go and bring them here as quickly as possible. Whatever it takes, get back within ten days!"

"Understood."

The subordinate ran out.

The subordinate faithfully carried out his orders. Except for one thing: he failed to notice that someone was watching him.

* * *

Ten days later.

"Aaaaaah!"

A man was rampaging in madness, blood running from his eyes and nose.

Watching him, the True Poison Recluse sighed again.

Even the last of the seven remaining test subjects had been a failure. No matter how he altered the proportions of medicinal herbs, he could not prevent the side effects.

The problem was tolerance.

At first, one pill produced sufficient results, but the more they took, the more tolerance they developed, forcing them to take larger doses. As the dosage increased, side effects began to appear. At present, this happened to one out of every few hundred people who overdosed, but as more users developed tolerance, it could become one in every few dozen. Then Murim would descend into pandemonium.

Just then, a subordinate came to report.

"The new test subjects have arrived."

"How many?"

"Twenty."

The True Poison Recluse went outside with him.

Two large carriages stood in the courtyard, and prisoners were climbing out. The carriages had no windows. They had been transported like cargo. Worse, black sacks covered their heads. With their internal energy suppressed as well, their sense of confinement must have been indescribable.

Martial artists approached and removed the sacks from their heads. The prisoners looked around. The martial artists surrounding them had formidable presences, yet not one prisoner showed fear.

And, as always, with twenty or so men whose lives had hit rock bottom gathered together, someone inevitably stepped forward without a trace of fear.

"You bastards! I'm Blood Snake Yang Goeng!"

He was a villain who had once been notorious throughout the unorthodox martial world.

"Even if honor has fallen by the wayside in the martial world, is this any way to treat a senior?"

He was furious at having been hauled here like cargo. Moreover, they had covered a twenty-day journey in ten days, so the prisoners' suffering had been beyond description.

Since test subjects were in short supply, a complaint of this degree could have been overlooked.

But he was unlucky. Worse still, several pieces of bad luck had converged.

First, the True Poison Recluse was already in a foul mood after yet another failed experiment. And Ae Cha happened to be watching from the other side.

The final piece of bad luck was that his epithet contained the word "snake."

The True Poison Recluse walked toward him.

"So you are the famous Blood Snake, Senior."

"That's right. Who are you?"

"This is who I am."

The True Poison Recluse swept a hand through the air.

While everyone watched, wondering what he was doing—

"Aaaaaaagh!"

Blood Snake suddenly screamed.

Unable to endure the pain, he rolled across the ground. It was more than any human could bear.

Though most of those present had committed every sort of atrocity, none had ever seen someone suffer this much. They could not even imagine what was happening inside his body.

"Kill me... please!"

Blood Snake begged for death.

The True Poison Recluse looked down at him coldly.

Blood Snake pleaded,

"... Please kill me!"

The True Poison Recluse swept his hand again.

Blood Snake's body began to dissolve. With a single casual gesture, a man turned into bloody liquid and vanished. Such was the skill of the foremost poison-arts master among the unorthodox factions.

No one there dared even breathe loudly.

The True Poison Recluse looked toward Ae Cha in the distance and dipped his head in greeting. His manner was courteous, but his meaning was unmistakable: Cross me, and this will happen to you too.

Ae Cha gave a conspicuous snort, then turned toward his quarters.

Watching him walk away, the True Poison Recluse smiled in satisfaction and said,

"Anyone else want to tell me who they are?"

No one dared step forward.

But the True Poison Recluse had no idea that, at that very moment, there was one person who wanted to reveal who he was.

The martial artists led the prisoners into the building.

Among those being dragged along in fear were Geom Mugeuk and the Poison King.