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Episode 20
Baekseon swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on Manyugang.
The reason he acted as though his own life held no value.
Because this world wasn’t the ‘reality’ he had lived in.
But he couldn’t speak that truth aloud. He only parted his lips nervously, no words coming out. Manyugang gave a gentle smile and released his hold on Baekseon’s throat.
“Don’t be so tense. As if I’d actually kill you.”
“……”
“Still, even if I don’t kill you myself, while you’re in Tang Baekseon’s body you’ll be under constant threat of death.”
After a moment of silence, Manyugang moved closer and placed his hand against Baekseon’s dantian.
“Why don’t we reset the flow of your inner energy? Repair your meridians entirely.”
“…What?”
“Even if you do manage to obtain the Tang Family’s cultivation method, do you think you’ll adapt to it easily?”
Baekseon instinctively shook his head. He had worried about the same thing himself. For nearly ten years, he had practiced only demonic sect techniques. Even if he successfully seized the Tang Clan’s art, whether he could adjust quickly was doubtful.
If he faced an enemy in desperation, he might instinctively fall back on demonic circulation. And if his luck ran out, he could plunge straight into qi deviation and die.
“Abolishing your cultivation will hurt, yes. And since your body is saturated with an unnatural coldness, I’ll take care of that as well.”
Manyugang turned deeper into the tomb, searching for a place flat enough to lie down.
“W-wait, just a moment!”
The implication of his words sent Baekseon hurrying forward to clutch his sleeve.
“Do you dislike the idea?” Manyugang asked with mild surprise. “I suppose you wouldn’t want to overlay demonic meridians on top of proper ones, not after finally purging yourself of that filth.”
“That’s not it. It’s just… abolishing cultivation is painful not only for the one receiving it, but for the one performing it as well.”
Manyugang blinked, then pointed at Baekseon, then at himself, tilting his head as if to say: You’re worried about me?
Baekseon sighed. “At worst, you could end up with qi deviation yourself.”
Manyugang laughed lightly.
“B-but if you fall into qi deviation, that would be a huge problem for me.”
“Why?”
“Because when a powerful man loses his mind… that’s when the world suffers.”
Another war could break out, one waged by Manyugang alone.
“Ah, so you’re worried about me?”
“I’m worried about you—and every martial artist alive.”
That earned him genuine laughter. Baekseon could have flattered him, but instead spoke with blunt realism, as though he knew too well how dangerous this man was.
“That’s disappointing. I’d prefer it if you worried only about me.”
“……”
“Perhaps I should become your benefactor, then? That way, you’ll have no choice but to care only for me.”
He spread his white robe across the stone floor, gestured for Baekseon to sit, and said:
“Take off your upper garments. Sit.”
Baekseon tensed. “…Brother.”
“Yes, little brother?”
“…Why are you trying to help me?”
Gratitude wasn’t the emotion in his voice. Distrust was.
Baekseon had stolen this man’s body for ten years, committed countless acts in it, some against his will. If Manyugang wanted revenge, all he had to do was crush his dantian.
Was this an elaborate trap?
As if reading his thoughts, Manyugang murmured:
“You’re thinking that your death wouldn’t matter, aren’t you?”
Baekseon sucked in a breath. The accuracy of it chilled him.
“That’s why I want to help you. Because I hate seeing you live like a moth drawn into flame—weak, powerless, yet still rushing headlong to burn.”
Baekseon tilted his head, baffled.
“We aren’t even close.”
“Exactly,” Baekseon pressed. “I stole your body for ten years. If you killed me right now, no one would fault you.”
Manyugang stepped forward and clasped his hand.
“You’re right. When we first met, I did consider killing you immediately. But I was curious. Curious why someone who had gained great strength would endure humiliation and scorn from the martial world instead of lashing out.”
During those stolen years, he had screamed internally, desperate to drive this man out.
“But watching you, I realized you see the world very differently than I do.”
“……”
“And that fascinated me.”
He tapped Baekseon’s nose playfully.
Baekseon frowned. “But even so, to personally reforge my meridians…”
“Is it really so strange? Didn’t you once do the same? A dying child caught your eye, so you took him in. You clothed him, fed him, taught him. That child should have died nameless in the street—but instead, he became the disciple of the Blood Rain Demon, one of the strongest of his generation.”
Baekseon fell silent.
“The choices of someone with power can reshape another’s entire life. That’s what you did. And now, that’s what I choose to do for you.”
Manyugang’s sharp blue eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness.
“In all my long life, you’re the first person to ever spark this kind of interest in me.”
Lies.
“Perhaps… it isn’t mere interest, after all.”
Also a lie. If it were truly more, his eyes wouldn’t be so cold. Yet Baekseon couldn’t cut him off. Because whatever the reason, the favor itself was real.
“Live long, little brother. Live long enough to stand in my way.”
He raised Baekseon’s hand, pressed a kiss between his fingers, then gently guided him to sit upon the white robe.
“…Very well.”
Baekseon didn’t trust him, not truly. He couldn’t tell where truth ended and lies began. But one thing was certain: Manyugang had no intent to harm him right now.
“Then… I’ll entrust myself to you.”
Baekseon exhaled, stripped off his upper garments, and sat cross-legged. The man’s fingers touched his bare back—cold as ice, yet burning like fire against his skin.
“Destroying a dantian hurts far more than you think. My energy entering you will feel strange. Don’t resist. Accept everything. If you feel like fainting, let yourself.”
The whispered words brushed against Baekseon’s ear, heavy with command.
When he closed his eyes in grim resolve—
“Hhhhk…!”
A blunt surge of heat ripped down his spine, curling his toes in pain.
