It is the regret you will come to have. (1)
“Answer me. You know, don’t you?”
He must know. No, he has to know.
It wasn’t that he was being unreasonable or trying to appear forceful. What was displayed on Chung Myung’s face was closer to despair or fear.
The Heavenly Demon has returned. Even though Chung Myung had killed him himself.
The sensation of severing his neck was still vivid at his fingertips.
The Heavenly Demon had trampled even the most impartial conclusion of ‘death’ that comes to all and reappeared in the world.
That fact squeezed Chung Myung’s heart, as if it would crush and shatter it at any moment.
It wasn’t fear stemming from having to face the Heavenly Demon again. It was fear that, even if he defeated him again, the bastard might come back to life once more without any difficulty.
Because what has happened once is bound to happen again.
If so… If the Heavenly Demon he barely defeated were to resurrect again as if it were natural, what would become of the world?
How would the world, without even Chung Myung, handle the Heavenly Demon?
Everything might collapse. The things Chung Myung tried to protect, to continue, the things built with spilling his own blood. All the disasters he barely held back might come rushing in at once.
He cannot let that happen. He must stop it. This time, he must return the existence of the Heavenly Demon to complete nothingness [무(無) – mu] so that he can never return again.
He doesn’t know how. But…
Chung Myung stared intently at the young man before him. This inhuman [인외(人外*) – inoe] being still had his eyes closed, with a face hard to fathom.
The Dalai Lama is certainly not an ordinary being.
According to Potala Palace, he is a being who has lived countless lives. Naturally, the breadth of knowledge he possesses would be different from that of ordinary people.
So he must know. About how to stop that damned bastard.
Perhaps sensing Chung Myung’s gaze, the Dalai Lama slowly opened his eyes.
“Siju…”
An emotion flickered momentarily in the Dalai Lama’s eyes. Chung Myung knew all too well what that wavering emotion was.
It was sorrow.
However, though he could recognize it, he couldn’t understand it. Why was the Dalai Lama giving him such a look?
At that moment, the Dalai Lama slowly shook his head.
“Siju. That is not my role.”
It was indeed a solemn reply. That made the meaning of refusal hit all the more deeply.
Chung Myung let out a faint laugh without even realizing it. Perhaps because he had already guessed what the Dalai Lama would say, and thus the answer he would hear.
“Not your role?”
“Siju…”
“It’s not that you know or don’t know… it’s that you won’t intervene.”
“…”
“Is that your answer?”
Chung Myung’s voice sank deeply. It carried neither hostility nor coldness.
Even so, Panchen Lama, who was listening nearby, flinched and looked at Chung Myung. Then he felt deep bewilderment. He realized that the reason he had inadvertently looked at Chung Myung was because of the profound weight in his voice.
‘Me…?’
It was an impossible situation.
Panchen Lama serves right beside the Dalai Lama.
In all the world, what could carry more weight than the words of the Dalai Lama?
Those who live by the sea are not surprised by a lake. No matter how vast a lake may be, it only offers an unfamiliar sight – it cannot astonish someone who knows the sea.
By the same logic, Panchen Lama had absolutely no reason to be surprised by the weight carried in someone else’s voice.
However, just moments ago, Panchen Lama clearly felt as if he was being overwhelmed. What on earth could this mean?
Chung Myung didn’t give Panchen Lama time to continue his thoughts.
“Is that so. Yes… of course, it would.”
At Chung Myung’s voice, the Dalai Lama’s eyelashes faintly trembled. Chung Myung continued speaking.
“There has been a question left unresolved for a long time.”
Even though he had been immersed in the Taoist sect, even living as a Taoist for two lifetimes, it was a question he ultimately could not resolve.
Chung Myung’s gaze was sharp enough to pierce through the Dalai Lama.
“Whether it’s the Taoist path or the Buddhist path, it’s all the same. They train to become immortals, they train to become Buddhas. To overcome the limitations of humans who get hurt when injured and return to dust when their life comes to an end.”
“Siju…”
“The Taoist sect says to escape the mundane world and reach immortality through the Path of the Immortals [선도(仙道) – seondo]. The Buddhist sect says to attain enlightenment through meditation and asceticism. Then you will become an immortal or a Buddha, escape the filthy mundane world, and finally open up a new horizon.”
Chung Myung’s lips twisted coldly.
“But what meaning is there in that?”
“…”
“When the lives of countless people are being trampled.”
His heart quivered.
“When the future that should rightfully continue is severed.”
Until it hurts immensely.
“When countless people die while being forced to sacrifice themselves in the name of ‘goodness [선(善) – seon]’.”
The scene from that day unfolded before his eyes once again.
“Where are those Buddhas and Immortals?”
“…”
“You just watch, like humans who observe with amusement and sneer at an anthill filling with water.”
“Siju……”
“You said just moments ago that the pursuit of enlightenment is a lonely path, and that oneself and others are inevitably different. That both trembling in anguish and escaping from it are merely the affairs of a being who did not attain enlightenment.”
The Dalai Lama’s face grew solemn.
“Then, let me ask.”
“Siju.”
“What meaning is there in your pursuit of enlightenment?”
“Siju!”
It was not the Dalai Lama but Panchen Lama who cried out. Unable to hold back any longer, he intervened. But Chung Myung didn’t even spare him a glance.
“If you alone understand those lofty ideals, see a magnificent world, and are great all by yourself! What meaning is there in that so-called enlightenment of yours!”
“Siju, the profound intention of the Buddha is….”
“Shut up. I’m not asking you.”
Chung Myung cut off Panchen Lama’s words and bared his teeth.
“Answer me.”
“…”
“Don’t just spout pretentious Zen riddles – answer me. How are you any different? What’s the difference between those who look down on people like insects and trample them, and those who merely watch the process? If ignoring the suffering of those who have not attained enlightenment is your esteemed way, then why should we consider you great?”
There is no need in such Immortals. There is no need in such Buddhas either.
No, rather, he would scorn, criticize, and mock them with all his might. The indifference of the powerless is sorrowful, but the indifference of the powerful is just cowardice.
Was it because Chung Myung’s gaze was so heavy and burdensome?
Or was it because he also had something to say? After a long silence, the Dalai Lama spoke.
“Not something different… no.”
A short sigh escaped. It was a sigh unfitting for someone called a living Buddha.
But soon, the emotion that had lingered on the Dalai Lama’s face disappeared, as if proving he was a being transcending humanity [inhuman].
“Even if we see the same thing, what we realize can be different. If you feel that way, you are not wrong. I may not be different from ‘him’ either.”
Chung Myung let out a hollow sigh in his momentary despair.
It was like that in the past. People feared and trembled before the Heavenly Demon, but they did not show hatred. The only one who deeply hated and resented the Heavenly Demon was Chung Myung.
Chung Myung felt that the others were strange, but the others found Chung Myung the odd one out instead. Back then, he didn’t know where this difference stemmed from.
But now, he finally seemed to understand why no one hated the Heavenly Demon.
Because people do not resent mountains, nor do they hate the sea.
Vast, indifferent, and impossible to overcome with human strength. No matter how much you shout and struggle, nothing changes. Chung Myung now understood the despair of insignificant humans standing before it.
The Dalai Lama looked straight at Chung Myung.
“However, please understand that my answer is not merely an excuse. I meant it as it was. That is not my role.”
Chung Myung’s eyebrows faintly twitched.
He didn’t ask, ‘Then whose role is it?’ Because he already knew the answer.
Even if the Dalai Lama’s true intention was different, Chung Myung had no intention of handing over that role to anyone else.
“Then…”
Chung Myung spat out with contempt.
“Then why did you bother coming all the way here?”
“I have already told you. I came to discuss your regrets, Siju.”
“Regrets?”
Chung Myung snickered.
“What, because I have regrets, you came to kindly offer some comfort to me?”
“No.”
The Dalai Lama slowly shook his head. Chung Myung clenched his teeth as if he didn’t need to hear any more.
“Get lost.”
“…”
“Even if I end up drowning in my own regrets, I have nothing to discuss with you regarding them.”
The Dalai Lama’s eyelids trembled slightly.
“I am human. An ordinary human you look down upon.”
“…..Siju.”
“And as a human, I’m not interested in scraps thrown as charity by someone so grand. So go back. I won’t accept any help from you.”
Once again, a hint of sadness lingered in the Dalai Lama’s eyes.
For a moment, Chung Myung was at a loss for words. A memory came to his mind.
Those eyes. Just like when he faced the Dalai Lama in the past.
The words the Dalai Lama – who was even less human than now – had murmured as if entranced came vividly to mind.
The Three Asankhya Kalpas.
Why, of all times, does that incomprehensible phrase – whose detailed explanation he would never hear – come to mind now?
“There is a misunderstanding, Siju.”
“Misunderstanding? Ah, are you saying I should appreciate your great compassion for humanity?”
When Chung Myung sneered, the Dalai Lama calmly shook his head.
“The regrets I wish to speak of are not the one currently in your heart.”
“…What?”
“It is the regret you will come to have**.”
Chung Myung closed his mouth. After a long silence, he blurted out.
“I’ve had more than enough regrets. Even if something new comes up to regret now…”
“The world is filled with an ocean of suffering. The deepest part of that ocean is filled with something called regret. Sometimes, regret paints this life with a pain worse than hell itself.”
Chung Myung stared directly at the Dalai Lama.
“So?”
“At this rate… you will experience hell while still being alive, Siju.”
The Dalai Lama looked extremely serious, while Chung Myung let out a snort.
“This is why you can’t communicate with those who think they’re superior.”
Experience hell while being alive? He has already been through that several times. Perhaps even now it is still hell.
“If you’re done babbling, get lost.”
“Siju.”
The Dalai Lama spoke again firmly. His voice carried a sense of urgency unlike before.
“You must not take my words lightly. There are many things entwined with you. The regrets you will experience in the future are unlike any you’ve gone through before. It would feel like your soul was being shattered, wandering in eternal darkness… an unbearable pain.”
“…”
“I came all the way here to prevent that.”
Chung Myung’s gaze no longer wavered. It simply sank into the darkness.
They were words not worth listening to, nor worth responding to. But…
“You can stop it?”
“Yes. If you make up your mind, Siju.”
For a while, the two of them stared at each other in silence. After a suffocating standoff that made it feel like their fingertips might burn away, Chung Myung spoke.
“Speak.”
“…”
“I’ll at least listen.”
Before speaking, the Dalai Lama let out a short sigh.
He had come all this way to convey these words.
Even so, he couldn’t help but hesitate. Because he knew Chung Myung wouldn’t accept it. Perhaps, by saying these words, he might plunge Chung Myung into even greater pain.
But he had to say it.
If there was even the slightest possibility, he couldn’t give up. Saving this man might be the way to save the world.
“Please think of the one you hate most… the one you hate most in the world, Siju.”
No sooner had the Dalai Lama finished speaking than a face flashed through Chung Myung’s mind.
After recalling that person, Chung Myung was inwardly taken aback.
Because that face was not that of the Heavenly Demon.
Was it because of the conversation he had with the Dalai Lama? Or, like others, could Chung Myung also not consider the Heavenly Demon as an object of absolute hatred? Or perhaps…
No, that’s not important right now.
“So, what’s with that person?”
“Him…”
The Dalai Lama’s lips trembled slightly. Signs of agitation were clearly evident in his expression.
The words he wanted to convey came out with great difficulty.
“You must not kill the one you have just thought of.”
In that instant, a chill colder than the glaciers of the Northern Sea formed in Chung Myung’s eyes.
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*人外 this is ‘inhuman/not human’, but it looked funny to me cause 外人 is ‘a foreigner’ in Japanese.
**”이제 당신이 해야 할 후회입니다.” If we translate this sentence into English literally it will be: ‘Now it is the regret you should/must do.’ In Korean regret is what is ‘done,’ but in English regret is what we ‘have.’ And since the regret isn’t coming immediately this second as Dalai Lama speaks, but just a moments later/or in the future using the future tense would be feasible (despite having -입니다 here as a present tense). Hence we get ‘it is the regret you will come to have.’
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Jang Ilso will be with us… until the end of the new Demonic War?… oh pls what is happening.
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Return of the Mount Hua 
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