Part 24 - Fate
Se-a's mind was in turmoil as she listened to Yeon Sang-hyeon's story.
A tale where past and future were intermingled—there was no way it wouldn't confuse her.
"Even if countless sacrifices follow the 'right thing' you're trying to do… are you still determined to see it through?"
Even if there were sacrifices, Se-a had assumed they would be limited to herself and those who shared her cause.
"Even if, because of what you do, people who had nothing to do with it—innocent people—end up dying too?"
"That can't possibly happen!"
At that answer, Sang-hyeon turned to look at her.
"—Huh?!"
Se-a's pupils widened.
Filling her vision was a crude, lopsided white mask—amateurish, yet chilling beyond words.
Yeon Sang-hyeon, wearing the mask, slowly raised a hand.
"So that's why. Those who kept such kind hearts buried deep within… ended up fading away alone."
As he lifted his hand, an icy winter wind brushed past it.
"In the end, to change the flow of that great river called history… that much blood must be spilled."
When he flicked his hand, the wind—somehow—seemed to grow even stronger.
Se-a shuddered under the freezing gusts.
"But those good people can't bear to watch that enormous number of blameless lives be sacrificed to twist the river's course."
He tried to grasp the cold wind—yet it only scattered and flowed on.
"And so, even if their names were left in disgrace, even if they were sullied… they sacrificed only themselves."
He lowered his hand after swiping at empty air.
"Even though, in the end, nothing changed."
The masked face tilted to the side.
"…Was that a futile sacrifice? Or was that, in the end, the unavoidable fate of the sisters?"
Se-a couldn't follow what Yeon Sang-hyeon was saying.
"I don't understand what you mean…"
But Yeon Sang-hyeon was already gone from where he had been.
"When I was young, I dreamed of changing the world… but I realized it was a misguided dream."
His voice was profoundly gloomy.
"After that, I lived making it my lifelong wish to find peace in simplicity—content in poverty, and delighting in the Way."
Se-a hurriedly turned her gaze toward the direction of the voice.
"?!"
Sang-hyeon was already standing atop the wall, looking down at her.
She couldn't tell what kind of supernatural art Yeon Sang-hyeon had used.
Was the Swordless of the Luoyang Sword Clan hiding his martial arts?
But she felt a heavy shadow—something far deeper than mere martial arts.
"Yet because of the status I was born with, that kind of peaceful life was impossible."
They were far apart, yet for some reason it felt as though she were hearing his voice right beside her.
"So I pursued tranquility. I threw away desire, again and again, hoping I could become free—like wind slipping through a net."
Mixed into that voice was a metallic scrape, like something clawing at her eardrums.
"I failed."
With exaggerated flourish, he spread both hands toward the sky.
"In the end, I failed to change the fate I was born into. I knelt beneath the star that rules over me."
The motion was theatrical, like an actor on stage—overdone, yet not ridiculous, drawing out a deep tremor of emotion.
"…However, your sisters' fate has not been decided yet."
That was no longer the First Young Master's voice.
It could hardly be called a human voice at all.
A voice made of nothing but dense metallic resonance—rough, cruel, and filled with a sorrowful echo.
"I will watch your sisters' fate."
There were no eyeholes to be found in that mask.
And yet, Se-a felt a gaze more vivid than meeting someone's eyes at point-blank range.
"I will see whether your fate will cross with mine… or whether it can overlap."
Wearing the white mask, clad in the Scholars' white robes, his figure began to melt into the darkness.
"My path is the Netherworld Mado—where mountains of corpses and seas of blood spread across the inhuman Demon Realm."
Into the deep dark—into the winter wind sharp as blades—his form vanished, as if dissolving, as if scattering away.
"Please… let us not meet atop it…"
Were his last words a prayer laced with worry—or a sneer at fate?
As if enchanted, Se-a stared blankly at the wall where the First Young Master had disappeared.
Soon the clouds parted, and moonlight beautifully illuminated the roof tiles atop the wall.
But beneath that gentle, warm glow, the First Young Master was nowhere to be seen.
***
Since Black Bone Sect's main stage was the back alleys, rapid manpower losses were inevitable.
And yet, Black Bone Sect was the organization in all of Luoyang that found it easiest to replenish its numbers.
Luoyang was a massive, lavish commercial city where millions lived—and what upheld that splendor was an even greater darkness.
Even the authorities didn't dare to try to grasp the full count of those living in the slums.
Want to survive in the slums? Then join.
Black Bone Sect wasn't the kind of organization you needed some special talent to enter.
In fact, it didn't matter if you were missing one thing—or more.
If anything, that was better.
Having too little empathy, too little common sense, too little mercy—those deficiencies made you far more employable.
And such "deficient people" rotted in abundance in the slums.
Nothing else mattered.
Once you came in and lived among your brothers and sisters, you would naturally be shaped into a fine Black Bone Sect member.
Even today, their headcount was steadily rising.
***
In the middle of a typical slum scene you could find anywhere in Luoyang, there was a certain Black Bone Sect branch.
They called it a "branch" with that fancy name, but even at best, it was nothing more than a den.
"Haaam…"
The bulky man guarding the entrance to that den was himself a case of someone molded into a "fine member" through that very process.
His father had died to bandits while working for an escort agency (at least, that's what he'd been told).
While his mother did everything she could to survive, he too did everything he could alone, scraping by however he managed.
In the course of growing up, he realized that what he didn't have far outweighed what he did.
And he realized that was a law that could never be overturned.
So he joined Black Bone Sect.
With his new brothers, he became intoxicated with venting all the resentment and bitterness that had piled up inside him.
One skull tattoo after another was carved into his body.
He was grateful that this path suited his nature astonishingly well.
Just a few more jobs and I'll get promoted. Heh. Then I'll take my new lackeys and start by getting that bitch next door…
He even developed such "constructive" plans for the future.
Just imagining leading the underlings he'd gain and swaggering through the streets filled his chest with pride.
Once that happened, there'd be no more punks in the neighborhood daring to look down on him.
Honestly, even if they did look down on him, it didn't matter.
He liked it better that way.
Wasn't that exactly why he wanted to press down even harder on the bitch next door who always looked at him like he was filth?
"Is this the Black Bone Sect branch?"
He'd been imagining what he'd do with the girl next door, his groin growing heavy—when he lazily waved a hand.
"Get lost."
But the other party was persistent.
"I'm asking if this is the Black Bone Sect branch."
He let out a sigh.
"Kid. We don't recruit little skinny bastards like you, so get lost while I'm still being nice."
"I'm not saying you have to recruit me."
The boy lifted his chin stubbornly and shrugged.
Normally, if he ran into some punk wearing that kind of "piss-me-off mask", he would've beaten him on sight—but right now, he was in an exceptionally good mood.
"Fine. Your hyung-nim will graciously interview you."
He raised a fist packed with thick calluses around every knuckle.
"Endure just two punches. Then I'll personally recommend you so you can get in."
From beneath the mask—gleaming white under the moonlight—a sound of blatant mocking seeped out.
"I told you I didn't come to join. What a suffocating sort you are."
"Fuck, you little bastard—then what the hell is it?!"
From under the half-mask, the boy's mouth split wider, revealing sharp teeth.
"Uh? Uhh…?"
The bulky man wanted to scream, but no voice came out.
Not only could he not speak—he couldn't move his body either.
He couldn't understand what he was seeing.
"You're a 'doorman', so I'm kindly telling you…"
Sometime in the blink of an eye, that thing had come up beside him, rising on its toes to whisper into his ear.
Its breath was a chill sharp enough to slice flesh.
"I came to eat all of you."
"…?!"
When it lightly shoved him, an irresistible, massive force sent him flying.
He sailed through the entrance he had been guarding as if weightless, bounced two or three times in a filthy, narrow corridor, and only then came to a stop.
"Ugh… ah…"
He couldn't even breathe from the shock.
Pain surged through his skull.
As he wriggled like an insect, rubbing his back against the floor, it approached with light footsteps.
Looking down at him, it smiled.
It was a pure, spotless smile—yet inside that mouth were teeth packed like awls and needles.
From that smile, he felt a terror he had never known in his life.
"Now, now. Go on—sing a song."
"Ugh—!"
Sing a song in this situation?
Soon, he got the chance to understand its words with horrifying clarity—through his own body.
"If you had to pick what matters most when singing, first is breathing, of course."
Its hand crept slowly toward his abdomen.
"And breathing starts right here."
There was something comical about it—like a performer putting on a show.
"Now, take a deep breath in—"
The hand, reaching the very center of his belly, plunged in without mercy.
"GRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!"
The hand burrowing into his gut was unbearably cold.
And then, something viciously hot began melting his insides.
"You've completely mastered the first step!"
The bulky man's movements stopped as his organs dissolved under the demonic energy of The Ruler Of Darkness.
"Too bad you won't get a chance to learn the second step."
Heeheehee— the mask shook, spilling grotesque laughter.
An unfinished mask, made complete as a ghostly object after meeting madness and bitter resentment.
"W-what is that?!"
"Who the hell is that bastard?!"
Startled by the bulky man's death throes, Black Bone Sect members rushed out with weapons in hand.
The scream had been so horrific that some even burst out barefoot, having leapt from their sleep.
But no matter how quickly they arrived, they all had no choice but to stop in the corridor.
"Uh… uhh…?"
Everyone went silent.
Their dead comrade's abdomen had been ripped open wide, and melted organs and bubbling blood oozed thickly down the slanted corridor.
And that thing—like something that had crawled straight out of a nightmare—waved a hand drenched in crimson blood and greeted them.
"Hello. Isn't it a fine night?"