Chapter 163 - The World Is Vast (2)

A successor mattered to any faction. People did not live forever; one day, they returned to nature's embrace. Knowing that fate awaited them all, everyone strove to leave a legacy.

Choosing a successor was part of that. A successor with a strong claim to legitimacy was important to any organization. Without it, they would constantly face opposition from their subjects or subordinates, and even inheriting the position would become difficult.

In that respect, Geum Jang had originally been designated as the successor to Wi Hochang, the Blood Demon. Not only was he the first subordinate Wi Hochang had taken in, but he was loyal as well. He also had ample ability to lead, so the Blood Cult's remnants had intended to follow him without complaint.

Until the Heavenly Demon appeared out of nowhere and snapped his neck.

"What are we to do now?"

An aged voice echoed through the room. A group sat facing one another by the light of a single lamp. The old man in the seat of honor had spoken, but only a heavy silence answered him.

"Lord Geum Jang has fallen to the Heavenly Demon. Who are we supposed to follow now?"

No one responded to the question, which was closer to a lament. They could not. The resurgence of the Blood Cult they had dreamed of was on the verge of collapsing just before it could come to pass.

It was Geum Jang's forum post that had brought them together in the first place: an ambitious call to gather at the sacred grounds and announce the Blood Cult's return. Yet shortly after that post, a video had appeared showing the Heavenly Demon toying with him.

"... Before we worry about whom to follow, we need to worry about surviving."

"What do you mean?"

"As Elder Taejung pointed out, we have no suitable successor. And now we have lost our rallying point as well."

The others groaned at the words of the relatively young, middle-aged man. He was right on every count. Forget a resurgence—the Blood Cult's very survival was in danger.

"Most crucially, we have almost no new recruits. Young recruits in particular have dried up entirely."

Indeed, the Blood Cult currently had virtually no newcomers. However famous the Blood Demon might be on the forum, that fame extended only to being a meme.

In the past, most who joined the Blood Cult had been captivated by Wi Hochang's martial prowess. But the Righteous-Blood War had taken place a full fifty years ago. Ten years would have been one thing; this was half a century.

Even those who had been in their twenties back then were now gray-haired elders. What did that say about those who had already been in their prime? Over half the elders had fallen in the Righteous-Blood War, and half of those remaining had died from its lingering effects or of natural causes. The fact that even the younger cultists were at least in their fifties said it all.

"That is... a serious problem. Without new faces, the Blood Cult will simply fade away. Do you know the reason?"

"Hmph. Isn't it because these green young brats know nothing of the Blood Cult's might?"

"In our day, those wishing to join were as vast as the sea..."

"This is all the fault of that damned Martial Alliance."

No, it was their own fault. The middle-aged man secretly curled his lips in a silent sneer. These people were too drunk on past glory to face reality. While the Blood Demon was still around, simply following him had been enough. But he had ascended to immortality.

Moreover, the Martial Alliance, the victors of the Righteous-Blood War, had exposed every ugly truth about the Blood Cult. The Martial Alliance had just as many dirty secrets, but the victors always took everything, while the losers could only suffer the consequences. The Blood Demon alone had massacred civilians. In many respects, they were a vile organization that could hardly expect to be liked.

As if that reality were not enough, they had failed to manage their image on the forum, too. All sorts of information had spread, and self-proclaimed Blood Cult members—whose authenticity was anyone's guess—had stirred up trouble, becoming the very definition of crazy f*cks. Now, even the slightest mention of the Blood Cult was routinely met with mockery about the cockroaches having arrived.

"Quiet, all of you! You know complaining like this will accomplish nothing! Give me solutions!"

"If we demonstrate our strength as the Blood Demon did..."

"Even Elder Geum Jang was toyed with by the Heavenly Demon, and you think we can do it? We would only bolster her prestige."

Arguments flew back and forth, but no suitable solution emerged. Age had robbed them of most of their strength and wits. To borrow a forum expression, they were a bunch of decrepit old farts trapped in a bygone era.

"Isn't there something more important than that?"

"What is it?"

"Who will we choose as successor? Whatever else happens, we need someone to lead us."

"..."

Choose a successor first. Silence settled over the gathering at those words. Everyone knew that arguing like this would never bring them to a consensus. So they should choose someone, anyone, and follow that person's wishes. That was the idea.

"Ahem. With even Elder Geum Jang fallen..."

"Why don't you take the position, Elder Taejung?"

"I am already too old. This frail body will return to the earth before long."

"Then whom would you name as successor?"

"We are the Blood Cult. Why not do things our way?"

The Blood Cult's way was simple: fight until one side died. In its heyday, that had been a fairly reasonable method. Not now. Their numbers were so diminished that every member was precious.

"We should refrain from that. Fighting among ourselves would be a problem in its own right, and it would seriously damage the successor's legitimacy."

"Yet no one had a claim as strong as Geum Jang's..."

Legitimacy in the Blood Cult was simple: how much instruction had one received from Wi Hochang, the Blood Demon? Geum Jang had even sparred with him, making him the most suitable candidate. Of course, none of that meant anything now.

In that case, the strongest claim belonged to...

"Come to think of it, wasn't there a monkey that received instruction from the Blood Demon himself?"

"Not a monkey, but an ape. A great ape—a gorilla, to be precise."

"Surely you aren't suggesting we make that lowly creature our successor?"

However far they had fallen, they were still human. They could not help recoiling at the idea of making a mere ape their successor. It was a matter more fundamental than pride, and the cultists half agreed with the objection, but...

"Is there even one person here who has inherited the Blood Demon's martial arts?"

"..."

"I did receive a little instruction..."

"But no one inherited them in full the way those gorillas did. If anything, their martial arts will be superior, certainly not inferior."

"Even so, apes..."

"We would only be naming one as successor. Must we actually revere it?"

The old man's point was this: naming a successor and revering one were separate matters. They could milk it for all it was worth, then kill it in secret. In particular, wouldn't everything be settled once they learned its martial arts? It could even speak, so learning from it would not be difficult.

"Certainly..."

"It isn't a bad option."

"It's only an ape, after all."

Through this dubious persuasion, they settled on making an ape—a gorilla—their successor. However clever a gorilla was, surely it could not be cleverer than a human.

"Surely we should choose the ape chief as successor? It is the strongest."

"Ridiculous! Didn't you hear? That ape banished its own brother, the white ape! The Blood Demon himself was banished for looking different. I cannot accept that!"

"Where did you hear that story? I've never heard anything of the sort."

"There was a post on the forum."

"And you believe it?"

By now, even the Blood Cult lacked reliable information about the Blood Demon. And so the Idiot Olympics began. The gorilla chief, or Lackey? Strength, or righteousness(?)? And so on.

It should have been a trivial debate, but how to put it?

'What kind of fcking idiocy is this?' *

To the middle-aged man, it was a farce beyond all farces.

The Blood Demon's achievements had obscured it, but the Blood Cult itself was actually a rather dim-witted organization. There had once been intelligent members, but even those had been lost in the Righteous-Blood War. They had no one who could be called the brains of the operation. More precisely, no one capable of grasping reality.

Then where had all the intelligent people gone? To the Martial Alliance or the Demonic Cult. Whether they accepted the establishment or resented it was the only distinction determining which they chose. They were not insane enough to join the Blood Cult.

'What do they think the Forest of Four Seasons is?'

The middle-aged man had a great deal to say—so much that he could say nothing. He could not even figure out where it had all gone wrong.

Fine, put aside their decision to name a gorilla as successor. How were they planning to bring it back? Did they intend to enter the Forest of Four Seasons themselves, that inescapable hell, that purgatory? Grylls's presence had recently revealed a great deal about the forest, but it was a mere drop in the bucket. What dangers lurked there remained unknown—and, most importantly, so did whether they could get back out.

"Um... there is something we must consider first."

"Ah, yes. What is your opinion?"

"That's not what I mean. The apes are in the Forest of Four Seasons... Even setting aside how we find them, will we be able to get out?"

"It would be difficult alone."

Difficult alone. In other words...

"So why don't we all enter the Forest of Four Seasons?"

"Together... you mean?"

"Indeed. The more we unite, the stronger our Blood Cult becomes. The Forest of Four Seasons should be no different."

"..."

"Besides, isn't there already a survivor in there? We can get support from him."

They had no plan. He could tell instinctively that entering with such hopeless fools would be tantamount to suicide. Why not just suggest they all hold hands and go off to die? Did they not know the Forest of Four Seasons' fearsome reputation, or did they consider this some noble journey? The world was vast and full of lunatics, but this went far beyond that.

'Wait. Isn't the Blood Cult itself a den of crazy fcks?' *

And he was in that den himself. The middle-aged man's mouth fell slightly open. He looked as though a crushing dose of reality had hit him, as though a pale soul had slipped out of his mouth.

Apparently mistaking his reaction for admiration, the old man smiled in satisfaction and addressed the cultists.

"Then we have reached an agreement. Still, the Forest of Four Seasons is known as a monstrous realm beyond human bounds. We should prepare thoroughly."

"Agreed. We must gather as many cultists as possible before we go."

"I dislike the idea of accepting an ape as our successor... but it cannot be helped."

"Then what do you intend to do when we meet that survivor?"

"He made our successor his servant. Naturally, he must receive divine punishment."

Had their brains turned to stone, or did they genuinely believe they could return alive from the Forest of Four Seasons? Or were they simply brainless fucking idiots?

"So, what will you do?"

"Ah... I believe I need to visit my hometown for a while."

"What for?"

"I heard there is someone who wishes to join."

"Oh. Excellent news. Very well."

The day the Blood Cult began preparing to head for the Forest of Four Seasons was the day the middle-aged man fled the cult.

* * *

Title) Being with you was fucking miserable

(Photo of old men chatting and laughing heartily)

Let's never meet again, you fucking decrepit old bastards.

└ Who are they? Your superiors?

└ Yeah, technically. But they're all insufferable old farts. Got sick of that shit and left.

└ Must've been rough. The Central Plains have way too many of those.

└ So what are you gonna do now?

└ Head home and farm. I used to do some heavy lifting back in the day, so it shouldn't be too hard.

└ Why do those people look so evil? They have some seriously nasty faces.

└ Now you see what I had to put up with?

Apparently, someone had quit their job today. That was something I learned while browsing the forum. There was also the occasional claim that the Blood Cult would enter the Forest of Four Seasons, but moving on.

"Okay, repeat after me. Park."

"Park."

"Jong."

"Jong."

"Hyeok."

"Hyeok."

"And put it together?"

"Dumb*ss."

"Oh, f*ck. Where'd you hear that one?"

"Park Jonghyeok."

"You little..."

How could I make this bastard of a gorilla listen to me? The world was vast and full of crazy f*cks, but I had never imagined I would end up being verbally toyed with by a gorilla.

'If this bastard can make fun of me, he's definitely smart, right?'

If I showed people even this, wouldn't the Blood Cult go wild demanding to make him their successor?

'Nah. That's ridiculous.'

That would go beyond being crazy. They would be worse than gorillas.