Chapter 619: Why Did You Make It Without Our Permission?
Demonic Buddha was sprinting toward Wuhan.
When he received the information from the Heavenly Communication Pavilion, he decided that he had to go himself.
Han Wolgaek and Byeoksan Sword.
They were not opponents the Great Young Master could easily handle. Demonic Buddha knew well just how deep Han Wolgaek’s resentment toward the cult ran—deep as the sea.
At that moment, someone shouted from far behind.
“Wait a moooment—!”
At the familiar voice carried on the wind, Demonic Buddha stopped his light footwork.
Sssshhhhhhh—
The person who had rushed over like a flash of light and landed behind him was Geom Mugeuk.
“For someone with such short legs, you sure are fast.”
“Now that you’re the acting Cult Leader, you’re bold enough to hurl personal insults openly.”
“Once you sit on the throne, arrogance flows naturally, huh? Bow before me, all of you!”
Their words were filled with negative jabs, but the expressions on both of their faces as they looked at each other were cheerful.
“What’s going on?”
“I gave you a task, so I should at least give my regards.”
“You didn’t chase me all the way here just to have me pay respects to the acting Cult Leader, did you?”
“As expected! You truly understand the nature of power. No matter how much you carve a statue, Lord Demonic Buddha, you are the very embodiment of greed for power.”
Demonic Buddha snorted. He could tell Geom Mugeuk was deliberately provoking him. Like saying, carve the statue to sell it, he was urging him to return to that time when he tried to seize power once again. Vividly, without sinking.
“I came because I have a favor to ask.”
Geom Mugeuk unwrapped the Supreme Silkworm Thread wound around the hilt of the Black Demon Sword. It was something he had once shared with Evil Smiling Demon and also with the Drunken Demon. Now, it was being passed on to someone new.
“Please wrap this around my brother’s heart.”
Demonic Buddha accepted the Supreme Silkworm Thread. At first, he didn’t believe it. Geom Mugeuk had claimed he would compete to become the successor while saving his brother. But now, he believed him.
Yes, maybe back then, something like this was wrapped around the Great Young Master’s heart, too. Something invisible, yet stronger than what he held in his hand now, that protected his heart.
Demonic Buddha’s gaze turned to the Black Demon Sword. There was still some Supreme Silkworm Thread left wrapped around the hilt.
Staring at it, Demonic Buddha suddenly spoke.
“What about me?”
As if taking it as a joke, Geom Mugeuk burst out laughing.
But Demonic Buddha did not laugh.
“Is the Great Young Master the only one with a heart?”
“Demonic Buddha-nim, you don’t need something like this.”
“I bleed when I get stabbed too, you know. Or do you think gold dust pours out of me instead of blood?”
“A Demon Supreme just wouldn’t look cool with something like this.”
“Haven’t you given this to another Demon Supreme before?”
“……”
“I knew it. You just don’t want to give it to me.”
In the end, Geom Mugeuk gave in and unraveled the rest, handing it over to him.
“You’re not even going to use it—why are you taking it?”
“I’m going to use it.”
"You’re absolutely not going to use it, Demonic Buddha-nim!"
“We’ll see, won’t we.”
Had he offered it all from the start, saying “Half for your brother, half for you, Demonic Buddha-nim,” then Demonic Buddha would certainly have said he didn’t need any.
That’s why he’d intentionally pulled the green frog tactic. Whether Demonic Buddha sensed that intent and pretended not to notice, no one could say.
Demonic Buddha glanced at the knapsack on Geom Mugeuk’s back and spoke.
“You brought that to give me too, didn’t you? Hand it over.”
So perceptive. Inside the knapsack were three sets of Protective Armor taken from the Heavenly Demon Treasury. One of them was a small-sized set made for Demonic Buddha.
“Why three?”
“If you happen to run into him, please give one to the Poison King.”
Demonic Buddha fixed his gaze on Geom Mugeuk, as if to say: “You know full well he won’t wear it.”
“That man won’t put it on.”
“Yes, he’ll definitely refuse.”
“Then why?”
“People might assume I’m sending you is because you’re close with my brother, but that’s not why I’m asking you, Demonic Buddha-nim.”
“Then what’s the reason?”
What Geom Mugeuk considered Demonic Buddha’s true worth—
“To make the impossible possible. You’re better at that than anyone.”
Demonic Buddha stared at Geom Mugeuk for a moment before slowly beginning to wrap the Supreme Silkworm Thread around both wrists.
“You’re not sending me because of your brother, are you? It’s not about getting the Poison King to wear the armor either.”
He had seen straight through Geom Mugeuk’s intentions.
“You want me to stop the Poison King, don’t you?”
Instead of replying, Geom Mugeuk gave a quiet, affirmative smile.
If Han Wolgaek, with his deep grudge against the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, lost control and went on a rampage, the Poison King would have to step in eventually.
And if, lulled by that fresh-faced youthful appearance, anyone made a careless comment—
The one rule everyone had to follow would be shattered.
The rule not to make the Poison King angry.
If things went poorly, a war could very well erupt.
“Because only you, Demonic Buddha-nim, can stop the Poison King.”
“And why is that?”
He expected some grand reason.
“Because Demonic Buddha-nim is the king of poison herb gathering.”
At the unexpected answer, Demonic Buddha let out a laugh.
The mischief disappeared from Geom Mugeuk’s face. He bowed his head respectfully.
“I apologize for asking such a difficult task.”
After wrapping the last of the Supreme Silkworm Thread, Demonic Buddha slung the knapsack onto his back. With his short stature, the pack covered almost his entire body.
“Becoming the Cult Leader means making me carry your baggage now, huh.”
“Only a small giant can carry a burden like this.”
“If only you’d shut that mouth of yours.”
Demonic Buddha turned around and started running again.
Geom Mugeuk stood still, watching until Demonic Buddha disappeared completely into the distance. To be honest, watching from the sidelines was harder than going out there and fighting himself.
However, even if anxiety prevented sleep, one still had to keep watch. Like a parent’s heart for their child—because it is only when we stand alone that we truly grow. Not only the opponent, but even the self who watched over them would.
Geom Mugeuk turned in the opposite direction from where Demon Buddha had vanished.
“Well then, shall I go finish that book I never got around to?”
In a flash, Geom Mugeuk’s figure shrank into a dot and disappeared.
* * *
The carriage carrying Geom Muyang’s group slowly passed through the central street of Wuhan.
Disguised as construction workers, they sat huddled in the cargo bed of an old wagon, casually observing their surroundings.
A middle-aged martial artist strode by, long sword on his back and robe flapping with each step. An old man sat in a tavern, stroking his white beard and sharing drinks. Young martial artists stood around, chatting and laughing with bright expressions. Members of the Martial Alliance in uniform walked past with sharp eyes.
To them, everyone visible on the street was a righteous faction martial artist.
In the distance stood the grand buildings of the Martial Alliance Main Division, and an enormous stone statue of a martial artist—symbol of the righteous heroes.
Ho Myeong didn’t show it outwardly, but he was inwardly tense.
He had only heard about the Martial Alliance Main Division until now—this was his first time standing right in front of it. The same went for the subordinates who had come with him.
It wasn’t just the people.
All the martial sects visible along the road, large or small, were righteous factions loyal to the Martial Alliance.
If a fight were to break out, righteous martial artists would pour out from every direction.
They were passing through the very mouth of a tiger.
Their destination was a manor.
Not some remote or secluded spot, but a place just slightly removed from the bustling marketplace. Other homes were packed tightly around it, and just a short walk away was the street they had passed moments earlier.
From here, the Martial Alliance Main Division’s buildings looked even grander. They were, quite literally, right beneath the Martial Alliance’s nose.
Everyone got off the carriage and entered the manor. Inside, parts of the building were in ruins—as if laborers had been called in specifically for repairs.
“Welcome, everyone!”
The one who greeted them was the manor’s owner.
“I plan to renovate this place splendidly.”
At the same time, he was a martial artist from the Heavenly Communication Pavilion.
“Come now, let’s rest for today and begin work tomorrow.”
The Heavenly Communication Pavilion had purchased the manor and disguised the expansion as a renovation project. It was all to ensure that Geom Muyang and the martial artists of the branch could arrive in Wuhan disguised as workers without drawing any suspicion.
The Heavenly Communication Pavilion had spared no effort in supporting Geom Muyang.
Once the manor gate was closed, the branch’s martial artists scanned their surroundings. Over the walls, even the rooftop. After confirming there were no watching eyes, they pulled out swords and Protective Armor hidden beneath the floor of the wagon and moved into the building.
As they stepped into the building, the middle-aged man finally introduced himself.
“I am Hwa In from the Heavenly Communication Pavilion. It’s an honor to serve such distinguished guests.”
Normally, martial artists from the Heavenly Communication Pavilion operated under codenames, but this time, he revealed his real name. Though he had lost in the successor struggle, the guest before him was the blood of the Heavenly Demon. That’s why he, the one responsible for Wuhan, had personally stepped forward.
“I leave it to you,” said Geom Muyang with a brief nod.
At that, Branch Leader Ho Myeong stepped forward.
“You lost track of Gwak Yeong?”
Then came an unexpected response.
“No, we didn’t.”
Not only Ho Myeong, but the other martial artists were equally surprised by the denial.
“Gwak Yeong returned to the Iron Workshop this morning.”
Hearing that, Geom Muyang’s expression slightly hardened. It should have been good news that she was found.
But the fact that she returned—on the very same day he entered Wuhan, almost as if to flaunt it—bothered him.
Ho Myeong seemed to feel the same.
“It might be a trap.”
At his words, Geom Muyang nodded.
“Could be.”
Even so, trap or not, this wasn’t something they could retreat from.
And that wasn’t the only news waiting for them.
“There’s something else you should know. Han Wolgaek is currently in Wuhan.”
The name Han Wolgaek made Geom Muyang flinch. Before he could even respond, more bad news followed.
“And Byeoksan Sword is expected to arrive soon.”
Ho Myeong quickly asked Hwa In,
“Are they here because of our operation?”
“We’re in the middle of confirming that.”
Gwak Yeong returned of her own will, and now two renowned experts from the righteous factions were arriving?
It was as if a tiger’s gallbladder was boiling over, and the hungry roar of a beast echoed from its throat.
Ho Myeong looked at Geom Muyang. Even if all of this was triggered by their actions, he knew Geom Muyang wasn’t the type to be frightened into retreat.
Sure enough, Geom Muyang calmly asked Hwa In,
“Where is Gwak Yeong’s residence?”
“She has quarters within the Martial Alliance Inner Compound.”
As the artisan of the Iron Workshop, it seemed she had been given special accommodations inside the inner compound.
Not the outer compound—but the inner one? Entering there was nearly impossible.
“She often visits a teahouse. After work, she usually stops by to have tea.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s a teahouse in the market district called Fragrance Pavilion.”
What Hwa In had prepared wasn’t just information. He opened a closet, revealing a variety of martial robes.
“You won’t be able to wear weapons with your current outfits. Please change into these. They’re the most common martial robes seen around Wuhan.”
He also provided them with new identities.
“If you ever need to identify yourselves, say you’re disciples of Soonggeommun, a righteous faction sect based in Honam.”
Soonggeommun, too, was a front for the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
"The disciples of Soonggeommun are currently out touring the Martial Alliance Main Division, following their Great Brother.”
Hwa In brought over a sheet with their names written on it and handed each person their assigned identity. If anyone tried to confirm with Soonggeommun, they would be told that these disciples had gone to tour the Martial Alliance headquarters.
“Thank you for your attention to detail.”
Everyone began changing into the martial robes.
“Don’t forget to wear your Protective Armor underneath.”
Ho Myeong made sure his subordinates were equipped, but he couldn’t help noticing that Geom Muyang was the only one without Protective Armor.
Yet, he couldn’t offer his own either. One couldn’t just hand over standard-issued armor to the Great Young Master. While Geom Muyang's martial prowess was overwhelming enough that it might not be needed, Ho Myeong still felt he should be wearing something better.
A short while later, they quietly slipped out the manor’s back gate.
Geom Muyang was sitting alone, sipping tea at Fragrance Pavilion.
The rest of the martial artists had dispersed—some at the tavern across the street, others on the roadside, in alleyways, or nearby buildings. Each took up position with careful precision, their approach so subtle it was hard to tell they were forming a net.
Today was meant to be closer to reconnaissance. No one expected they’d run into her on the very first day.
—It’s her!
At Ho Myeong’s sound transmission, Geom Muyang looked up. A woman was stepping into the teahouse.
There was a large burn scar on the back of her hand. It was unmistakable. She didn’t try to hide it—on the contrary, her sleeves were boldly rolled up.
Just as he’d heard, Gwak Yeong wore her scars with pride. Her face was beautiful, and her figure graceful.
She entered the teahouse and glanced around, deciding where to sit.
Then her eyes met Geom Muyang’s.
She smiled faintly and lowered her head in a polite nod.
Geom Muyang couldn’t tell. Did she recognize him and smile, or was it just a courteous greeting exchanged after their eyes happened to meet?
One thing was certain—it wasn’t what he’d expected. Her aura was far more relaxed and cheerful than he had imagined.
At that moment, Ho Myeong sent another sound transmission from outside.
—It doesn’t seem like there’s any tailing or ambush in place.
Geom Muyang also raised his internal energy and scanned the area. None of the customers inside, nor anything outside, indicated immediate danger.
‘Did she really just come to drink tea?’
If so, the only thing left to do was to subdue her and take her away. A carriage was already prepared outside to carry her.
But Geom Muyang remained cautious. The situation was unfolding too smoothly—it made him all the more wary.
Gwak Yeong sipped her tea, her eyes gazing at the passersby outside. Her expression was contemplative, her gaze deep.
Then, a group of men walking past gave her a respectful nod.
She greeted them in a bright voice and waved her hand. Judging by their muscular builds, they were most likely men working at the Iron Workshop.
As she turned her head back from looking outside and reached again for her tea, Geom Muyang was already seated across from her.
It was a situation that should have startled her, but she calmly asked,
“Why are you sitting without asking for permission?”
In contrast, Geom Muyang came at her strongly.
“Then why did you make them without our permission?”
Right from the first words, he had revealed his identity and begun questioning her.
If she tried to scream or run, she would be subdued before even getting the chance—her energy point and Pressure Point already within reach.
But Gwak Yeong reacted in an unexpected way.
She leaned her upper body forward, bringing her face close to Geom Muyang’s, and spoke with absolute confidence.
“Are you stupid? Who asks for permission to make counterfeit goods?”