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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Custom (1)
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It looked like her black hair had been dyed or something, with a faint reddish tint, and she was a tiny little girl.
Judging by her height and build, she seemed about eleven or twelve years old.
Come to think of it, this body of Il-mok was fifteen, so there was only a difference of three or four years at most, but my original self, Seo Ji-hoon, was thirty-four.
No, I'd lived one more year as Il-mok, so thirty-five?
Either way, the mental age gap was so vast that I didn't feel like we were peers at all. She just gave off the vibe of a cute little niece.
One from a pretty well-off family, at that.
By the standards here, the fabric of her clothes looked high-quality even at a glance.
'Well, just the fact that Jin Ha-yeon called her young lady shows she's no ordinary kid.'
Upon closer inspection, not just her hair, but her eyes had that same faint reddish hue.
'That's interesting.'
Was it because I was staring intently at the eyes of the little girl called Seon-a?
She shyly bowed her head a bit and murmured softly.
Not content with just lowering her head, she hugged a small doll from her bosom and fidgeted with her tiny fingers, clearly nervous.
"G-Guess I was just curious…."
Her tense appearance was both pitiful and adorable, and without realizing it, I slipped into the tone one uses with children.
"What were you curious about~?"
At that, the little girl, still with her head slightly bowed, raised just her right hand and pointed somewhere with that small finger typical of a child.
And the direction her finger pointed was right at me.
"Me?"
At my question, the little girl's bowed head nodded up and down slightly.
"Why were you curious about me~?"
"I-I heard the grown-ups talking. They said the new disciple of the Heavenly Demon, y-you're really smart…."
I got a rough idea of what was going on.
Thanks to the banquet last time, it seemed Master and my senior brothers had been spreading stories about me.
And those rumors had spread far and wide, even reaching this little one.
While I was piecing that together.
A cold voice leaked from Jin Ha-yeon's mouth.
"Young Master Il-mok is busy preparing for the Demonic Path Academy entrance. Please return."
It was a clear dismissal, and the little girl, who blushed just from eye contact, shrank her shoulders even more.
'Even if it's a side effect of the demonic arts, isn't that too harsh on a kid?'
Letting out a deep sigh at Jin Ha-yeon's personality, I opened my mouth.
"It's fine. Watching quietly won't interfere with my studies anyway, right?"
"But…"
As Jin Ha-yeon tried to counter in her icy tone, I quickly turned my gaze to the little girl called Seon-a.
Startled by my words, the little one lifted her deeply bowed head and looked up at me with huge, rabbit-like eyes.
'Kuk.'
She'd seemed pitiful when cowering, but the moment our eyes met—those bright, innocent, sparkling eyes—it felt like my heart took a direct hit.
'She's so cute!'
What was it like?
In modern terms, it was like being chosen as a butler by a cute stray kitten.
That thought naturally came to mind.
'Just what kind of place is this?'
Jin Ha-yeon boasted idol-level looks that could slap an entertainer, and now this little one rivaled any child actor in cuteness.
It was a mystery why a cult like this attracted such talents(?).
"You can sit over there and just watch quietly, right? Promise me~?"
At my question, the little one's rabbit eyes looked up at me as her head bobbed up and down vigorously.
Since her height hadn't fully grown yet, her disproportionately large head shook wildly, making for a novel sight.
Unknowingly, with my lips curving up, I approached the little one and held out my pinky.
"A promise with uncle—no, big brother."
"???"
I taught the puzzled little girl how to hook pinkies and press thumbs.
"Like this, hook pinkies, and stamp with thumbs. Break the promise, and scary people will come after you later, hoo~ Got it?"
"Yeees~!"
The cowering demeanor vanished, replaced by her bright shout.
Meanwhile, Jin Ha-yeon, watching from the side, let out a deep sigh with a cold expression for some reason.
Ignoring that, I wrapped up the conversation to prevent her from harassing the kid further.
"She promised to watch quietly, so how about we start studying now?"
At my words, Jin Ha-yeon glanced between the little one and me before sighing coldly once more and replying.
"Very well."
* * *
The routine proceeded with one young spectator in tow, and it seemed no different from usual.
The little girl called Seon-a kept her mouth shut as promised, simply watching quietly.
"We'll take a short break for about one il-dae-gyeong (five minutes)."
After a two-hour sjin lesson, came the brief rest period.
"Haa…"
A sigh escaped me unwittingly.
Even for someone like me, accustomed to exam prep life, two straight hours of nothing but studying was no easy feat.
If it were solo study, maybe, but this was a lecture setting.
'Is that why the 50-minute class, 10-minute break became the gold standard?'
I shook my head to clear the pointless thought.
Right away, what came into view was Jin Ha-yeon gulping down water, her throat parched from talking nonstop for two hours.
"Haa."
Another sigh slipped out naturally.
'Break time, my ass. Nothing to do.'
In the modern world, I'd fiddle with my phone, but here, there was no entertainment.
Even trying to do something alone felt awkward with Jin Ha-yeon right there.
She was tending to me and teaching, sure, but no matter how I sliced it, she felt more like a watchdog.
'At this rate, it'll be frustration-induced psychosis, not demonic art side effects.'
Turning my head with that thought, my eyes met the little one's—she'd been sitting there watching me.
"What've you been up to~?"
When I grinned playfully and asked, the blushing little girl bowed her head slightly and answered.
"L-Listening along with you."
"Oh? You understood everything that sister said?"
"Y-Yes…"
Her shy reply, as if burrowing into the ground, was cute, but it also sparked a thought.
'Eleven? Twelve years old, and she followed that? It seemed pretty complex. Ah, she looks like a well-off kid, so maybe she's already started studying?'
Perhaps she was prepping for the Demonic Path Academy entrance exam a few years from now.
"What's your name, little sis? I'm Il-mok."
At my question, she fiddled with her doll's tiny hands and replied.
"Seon-Seon-a. Hyeok-ryeon Seon-a."
'Hyeok-ryeon? Sounds familiar.'
Rifling through my memories, it came to me easily.
'Master's name is Hyeok-ryeon Il-hwi.'
I recalled that the Blood Shadow Eighteen Swords, which Master had learned before the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, was the Hyeok-ryeon clan's signature technique.
From the circumstances, the Hyeok-ryeon clan seemed to hold considerable power within the cult.
'That's why Jin Ha-yeon called her young lady.'
Daughter of a prestigious clan in the cult, and likely related to Master the Heavenly Demon.
'Should I keep using formal speech? Nah, I'm Master's disciple, so I'm higher up, right?'
Status-wise in the cult, it felt similar. As the elder, dropping formalities shouldn't be an issue.
"So, what's the name of that doll Seon-a's holding?"
"Mo-Mommy."
"Mommy?"
When I asked back with a puzzled look, Seon-a nodded.
"Mo-Mommy doesn't hate Seon-a like Mommy does, or leave her alone. So, she's the real mommy."
"...."
It felt like I'd overheard some family drama I shouldn't have.
"Ahem. I-I see. Uh, so what does Seon-a usually do?"
I hurriedly changed the subject with another question.
"Like big brother. Study, train in martial arts…"
"Just studying and training? No time to play?"
"J-Just with Mommy."
This time, "Mommy" probably meant the doll, not her real mom.
'Listening to her, she sounds just like me.'
A sudden wave of shared misery hit me.
Thinking about it, I spent my days tormented by study and training. No time hanging out with anyone to relieve stress.
That last banquet?
It was just an uncomfortable ordeal, worrying about slipping up.
Jin Ha-yeon, stuck to me all day, was a cold fish who only responded to work talk.
Like her with her doll, my sole companion was my diary.
That diary where I vented my rage at the cultish Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, scribbling daily in Korean.
"Same here."
For some reason, maybe that sense of kinship, talking with Seon-a felt much more comfortable.
"Wanna come play like this sometimes from now on? I could use someone to chat with like this."
"Really?"
"You bet."
Seon-a beamed, asking without averting her eyes this time.
Then, Jin Ha-yeon, who'd been listening to our chat from the side, cut in with a cold voice.
"Young Master. That promise could cause problems…"
The moment her mouth opened, the little one, who'd just perked up, deflated again.
"She's kept the promise so far, hasn't she? I'll stick to my study and training schedule, so no worries."
Did my firm assurance do the trick? The wilted little one lifted her head to look up at me again.
"So, like before?"
"Like before?"
When I asked puzzled, Seon-a held out her tiny finger and wiggled it.
"Ah! The promise?"
"Yes! Promise."
Seeing the cute little one grin so brightly melted away some of the stress I'd built up trapped in this cult.
Grinning happily, I hooked pinkies with her to seal the promise.
Jin Ha-yeon, watching from the side, let out a deep sigh.
'My Demonic Path Academy entrance is important and all, but why be so blatant? If that's the case, she should've blocked me from that banquet too!'
If it was about cutting into study time, that banquet was the real issue.
As if to address my doubts, Jin Ha-yeon's transmission voice pierced my ear.
- Young Master. Getting close to the Hyeok-ryeon clan girl is dangerous.
"???"
What nonsense was this?
As I made a baffled face, she tried sending me something via transmission.
But before that, an interloper appeared.
Creak. Thud!
Without even the courtesy of knocking, the doors to Wind Rock Hall burst open.
My gaze naturally turned to the entrance at the sudden intrusion.
There stood a beauty in her early thirties, coldly scanning the interior of Wind Rock Hall with sharp eyes, several men and women visible behind her.
Spotting Seon-a beside me, the woman's eyes subtly shifted, and Seon-a's shoulders shrank upon meeting them.
"Mo-Mother…"
Only after hearing Seon-a's mutter did I notice the resemblance in their faces.
By the time I realized this woman was Seon-a's mother, her expression had turned even more venomous as she glared at me.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Her tone matched her vicious expression perfectly.
But there was another woman here just as icy.
"Cheong-hwa Madam, what is the meaning of this rudeness? This is where Young Master Il-mok, disciple of the exalted one, conducts his studies."
At Jin Ha-yeon's cold retort, Cheong-hwa Madam's gaze slid past me to her.
"You're the rude one here. No matter that Young Master Il-mok is the exalted one's disciple, he is not the Heavenly Demon. Are you saying the exalted one's disciple outranks the great Hyeok-ryeon clan? And a mere maidservant dares talk back to me? You must be borrowing the exalted one's prestige to throw your weight around."
Her venom was on par with the shrewish mothers-in-law from dramas.
It seemed her viciousness outstripped even Jin Ha-yeon, who was losing emotions to demonic art side effects.
As Jin Ha-yeon faltered without a reply, Cheong-hwa Madam pressed on.
"I can forgive the Eighth Young Master for not knowing cult customs, having joined recently. But you, who should be teaching him about the cult, have failed in your duty. You will pay for that!!"
Customs? What customs?
That thought crossed my mind first, but something more pressing came up.
"What gives you the right to cause a scene in someone else's hall?"
Sure, Jin Ha-yeon felt more like a watchdog than a maidservant, but she was still under me.
'Disrespect has its limits.'
Chewing out my maidservant in front of me was as good as chewing me out—or worse, more insulting.
Stepping between the two women, Cheong-hwa Madam fixed me with a venomous glare.
The old me would've shrunk back from that look.
In modern terms, she was like a chaebol heir's wife.
But now, it just made me chuckle inwardly.
'So what if you're a chaebol wife? I'm the cult leader's prized disciple.'
Not something to brag about, but in this cult, it was top-tier clout.