Return of the Mount Hua

ROTMHS Glossary || About page

From somewhere came the clear, lively sound of birds chirping.

“Ugh……”

What is it……. It felt like he’d had some kind of nightmare…… His face seemed to throb with a dull ache… Still squirming at a sensation he couldn’t make sense of, Yang Hoe slowly opened his eyes. The first thing that came into view was clouds.

‘Huh?’

And beside those clouds stretched an endless, dizzying cliff face. Seeing himself floating idly above a bottomless pit, Yang Hoe calmly closed his eyes again.

‘So I’m still having a nightmare.’

He thought he’d woken up, but apparently not. Still, for a dream, it was remarkably vivid. The throbbing, burning dull pain in his face was perfectly real, and for some reason his ankle had been aching as if it were about to snap, and the bizarre sensation of his body swaying from side to side felt unmistakably clear, and then…

At that moment, an icy wind, sharp like knife, swept past both sides of Yang Hoe’s torso. A chill ran through his whole body, leaving him shivering. Huh? Cold?

“W-Wait a second!”

This isn’t a dream, is it? Yang Hoe snapped his eyes wide open.

“Hiiik?”

A cliff that seemed to stretch endlessly came into sharp focus in his vision. Even the ground far below – so distant, sooooo far down – was visible.

“Waaaaaah! What is thiiiiiis!”

A cliff? On top of a cliff? Or halfway down?

“No! That’s not what matters! Why am I here?!”

No wonder it felt like his face was going to burst! Had he been hanging upside down off the cliff this whole time?

A sudden gust of wind slammed into him, sending his body lurching violently to the side. Nearly scared out of his wits, Yang Hoe jerked his head up and looked towards his feet. A thick rope was tied around his ankle. The problem was how clumsily and loosely it had been fastened – so much so that it looked as if his foot might slip free at any moment.

“Aaaaaaah! This is insane!”

Faced with death, Yang Hoe unleashed a burst of monstrous strength – folding his body in one swift motion and grabbing the rope tied to his ankle with all his might.

“Huuuk! Huuuk! Huuuk! Huuuk!”

Even in that split second, he must have been so tense – he hadn’t even had his eyes open for long, yet sweat was already streaming down his face like rain. A bead of sweat gathered at the tip of his chin, dropped, and drifted away into the unfathomable depths of the cliff below.

“J-Just tie the rope properly, at least – what kind of lunatic would…! Hi-iiik! I’m slipping!”

Panicking, Yang Hoe yanked the thick rope towards him and wound it tightly around his wrist again and again. Once his weight shifted onto it, his wrist began to ache as if it might be pulled out of its socket – but losing an arm was a hell of a lot better than dying.

“Why, why am I here?”

Wait, when did I fall asleep? No, I mean, so, that…

‘Right! That brat!’

He remembered lecturing that unbearably cocky little devil of a kid. And after that… he’d seen feet. As the memories he’d finally recovered came flooding back, his body began to tremble.

“D-Don’t tell me, that brat?”

No matter how vicious someone was, there had to be a limit! How could anyone hang a living person off a cliff! And not just any cliff – this thousand-zhang drop of an abyss!

‘Is he even human?’

Normally, he would have reflected on just how cruel a creature called ‘human’ could become. But right now, he didn’t have the leisure for deep contemplation.

Snap.

At the small sound coming from the rope, Yang Hoe’s body went rigid.

Um, this rope…… is sturdy…… right?

Snap, snap!

His face turning blue, he clutched the rope with trembling hands, even holding his breath – just in case.

‘T-The Divine Spirits… of Heaven and Earth… please…… please, just until I make it up… please!’

At the line where the ground and sky met atop the cliff, a human hand suddenly shot up from below. The hand, trembling and quivering as if it might slip back down at any moment, managed to latch onto the very edge of the ground with a desperate grip.

“Kkeuuuuuh…….”

Soon after, Yang Hoe’s face slowly appeared. In the meantime, he had become half the man he was.

“Kkeuaaaahp!”

Squeezing out every last drop of strength, he hauled his upper body over the cliff’s edge – and then collapsed limply, like cotton soaked through with water.

“R-Really…… I really thought I was going to die…… K-heuk.”

If the rope had been even a little more worn, he might have cleanly taken his leave of this world on that cliff. Once the wave of relief passed, the anger and resentment he had pushed aside came surging back. Yang Hoe, his body trembling, jerked his head up sharply.

“W-Where did that bastard go?”

Yang Hoe had grown up under the strict etiquette training of the prestigious Yang Clan, and at one time he had even dreamed of an official’s career. Of course, in all his life he had never once let foul language cross his lips. But now – barely a single day after entering Hwasan – curses he had never even held in his mouth his entire life burst out of him.

“I’ll kill you!”

Springing to his feet, he charged towards the thatched hut like lightning.

With a ferocious, demon-like expression, he flung the hut’s door open with a bang – and… he lost all words. His face, taking in the sight inside, gradually relaxed and lost all emotion.

“Kuuuuuu.”

“Kuuuuuuuuuuu.”

It wasn’t because Yang Hoe’s cultivation was deep enough to suppress his fury and regain composure. Not at all. This was… sheer blank disbelief. Yang Hoe realized something: bewilderment beyond all measure can smother even boiling rage in an instant. You could never truly understand it unless you experienced it yourself.

Blinking a few times, then rubbing his eyes over and over, Yang Hoe stared into the room. No matter how much he rubbed them, no matter how many times he shut them and opened them again, the scene didn’t change. His mouth fell open on its own.

‘Is this guy actually insane?’

He couldn’t believe the sight of that brat sprawled out flat on his back inside the room, snoring away. Sleeping? After hanging someone upside down off a cliff, he was sprawled out there, sleeping like nothing happened? And on top of that…

“W-What is that smell? D-Don’t tell me…”

Liquor? Yang Hoe’s eyes flew wide. Liquor in a Taoist temple! So that deranged brat had knocked him out, calmly tied him up and tossed him from a cliff, then came back to the room and guzzled down liquor he’d scrounged up from somewhere before flopping down to sleep?

“…Even the devil wouldn’t do it like this.”

How on earth had things come to the point where a creature like that could strut around this sacred Taoist temple as if it were his own home?

“N-No!”

Hwasan couldn’t be like this. What kind of place was Hwasan? The place that would make him a hero under heaven… no, the place he would lead and turn into the greatest sect under heaven!

They said, ‘A thousand-li dam collapses because of an ant hole.’ Even a massive embankment a thousand li high can be brought down by a single tiny ant hole. Who could say that this child’s lawlessness would not, someday, become the ant hole that brings Hwasan to ruin?

Yang Hoe whipped his head left and right, scanning the area. If he let anger lead him clumsily, he might get ambushed again and end up sprawled on the ground – so he meant to make sure he was properly on guard.

“Good.”

Just then, he spotted a fairly solid-looking fire poker in front of the room. His face brightened as he snatched it up and gripped it tight, as if to seize a lifeline. While forming his resolve and persuading his parents, he had learned more than enough basic martial arts. It wasn’t Hwasan’s martial arts, true – but if he were the sort who couldn’t even handle a brat far younger than himself, would he ever have dared to dream of becoming the Sect Leader of the greatest sect under heaven?

‘Today, I’ll set Hwasan’s rules back in order!’

Drawing a deep breath, Yang Hoe spoke sternly.

“Get up.”

But the brat sprawled out there didn’t so much as twitch.

“Get up! You bastard!”

“Uuugh……”

Letting out a groan, the brat squirmed – and rolled over to the other side.

“You…!”

His anger shooting through the roof, Yang Hoe finally lashed out and kicked the brat’s backside hard.

“Can’t you hear me!”

“…Uuughgh. What is it?”

The one who’d been hit – the boy who had introduced himself as Chung Myung – rubbed his rear and cracked his eyelids open just a sliver. Then, seeing Yang Hoe panting with rage while holding the fire poker, he opened his mouth wide and let out a huge yawn.

“When did you get up here?”

“So it was you who…!”

“Hey, you’ve got some strength. You were hanging there all night, and you still crawled your way back up – good stamina, huh? But…”

Chung Myung propped himself halfway up, pressed his index finger firmly against his temple, and asked.

“Who told you to come up?”

“…What?”

“I’m asking who told you to come up? I don’t think I ever said you could.”

“You insolent little brat!”

“Ugh, my head.”

When Yang Hoe shouted at the top of his lungs, enough to shake the entire hut, Chung Myung pressed his temples with little hands that still looked almost comically small.

“Khuuuuuh…… easy there, my head is pounding…… I should’ve slept at least another two hours.”

Chung Myung staggered as he got to his feet. Only then did he seem to notice the fire poker clenched tight in Yang Hoe’s hands, because he tilted his head.

“Why are you holding that?”

“You-….this bastard!”

“Ah… don’t tell me you’re planning to hit me with that?”

Yang Hoe’s anger surged to the very top of his head, and he exploded in a roar.

“Who you are or what status you hold doesn’t matter! What you did to me alone is enough to deserve punishment – but even that isn’t what matters most!”

“Then what matters?”

“How dare you reek of alcohol in this sacred Taoist temple! How can you commit such an insolent act! You’re nothing but a child!”

“A sacred Taoist temple, my foot. It’s just a place where a bunch of stubborn old mules who can’t even talk straight stare at mountains all day, driving themselves mad, reciting mind-numbing scriptures until they burst.”

“What did you just say?”

Yang Hoe’s eyes flared with fury.

“It is the duty of an adult to admonish a child’s wrongdoing and lead him to the righteous path! Today, I will teach you right from wrong…”

“Man, you sure talk a lot. You chatter on and on like you’re reciting scriptures. You did pick the right place to join, I’ll give you that.”

As if he were sick of it, Chung Myung picked at his ear, then slowly rubbed around his solar plexus.

“I feel nauseous right now, so I can’t deal with you for long. Hurry up and do it. Hurry.”

Yang Hoe’s face hardened. If the boy reflected on his wrongdoing even now, he hadn’t intended to go as far as swinging a stick at a child – but this one’s nature was too rotten. No, it wasn’t merely ‘rotten to the core.’ At this point, it was so spoiled it had practically decomposed, stained a muddy brownish color. So before it completely festered and collapsed, shouldn’t he do something – anything?

“Do not resent me. It is you who have gone too far.”

“…Seriously, you talk a lot. Being a Taoist must be your calling.”

“You little…!”

Yang Hoe lunged at Chung Myung in a single bound.

‘Just enough, as gently as possible – hold back!’

The master who had taught Yang Hoe at his family estate had been truly ruthless. His father, believing that if his son realized he had no talent for martial arts he would abandon foolish dreams and walk the path of an official, had invited a renowned martial artist – famous even in Henan – to teach him strictly.

But what had the result been? After teaching Yang Hoe only briefly, that master had begun persuading his father that Yang Hoe ought to be sent to Wudang instead.

If Yang Hoe were to put real strength into his swing and bring the fire poker down properly, this small child’s body would never be able to withstand it. So he had to control his power – use only enough for it to serve as a reprimand.

Yang Hoe’s fire poker dropped swiftly towards Chung Myung’s shoulder. Seeing Chung Myung not even react until it was nearly upon him, Yang Hoe thought, oh no – and started to pull back even more strength, but right at that moment… 

“Tsk.”

He heard a short click of the tongue, and then a heavy, dull pain spread across Yang Hoe’s face.

Bang!

“Aaagh!”

Not even understanding what had happened, Yang Hoe went flying out through the doorway and hit the ground outside. Dazed, he lifted his head. He felt something warm trickling from his nose.

“…Blood?”

From both nostrils, dark-red, fresh blood was streaming down in thick lines.

“I-I… I got hit?”

But he hadn’t even seen it. Staring in disbelief, he saw Chung Myung slowly walk out through the doorway.

“I figured you picked up a stick first because you actually had something up your sleeve, but what is this… You’re completely hopeless at fighting. You’d better make a living flapping your mouth somewhere else.”

“Y-You…!”

Overwhelmed by the barrage of insults, Yang Hoe sprang to his feet.

‘T-This can’t be!’

The one who had taught him had said it clearly: his talent for martial arts was in no way inferior to his talent for scholarship – that if he trained steadily and put in the effort, even reaching the seat of the greatest under heaven was not an impossible dream. Even if he hadn’t learned proper martial arts, the disciples of famous great sects, if they were of similar age, wouldn’t be able to handle him easily.

But now it wasn’t even someone of similar age – he was getting struck by a child at least a head shorter than him? How was he supposed to accept a situation like this?

“This…”

“Oh, ‘this can’t be happening’, you mean… huh?”

“…”

“And then what was next? ‘Me, to a brat like this? Am I dreaming? If I catch you just once? This is a scam! What kind of sorcery did you use, you devilish bastard?’”

Yang Hoe stared blankly at Chung Myung. Chung Myung, in response, stuck his lips out in a sulky pout.

“Anyway, it’s always the same with the guys who get hit. You all say the same stuff – where do you even learn it?”

“Y-You……”

“‘Youuuuuuu little punk’!”

“…”

“Right?”

Yang Hoe’s mouth fell open. In all his life, it was truly the first time someone had toyed with him like this.

“Y-You little brat!”

“……Brat?”

As if the word really got on his nerves, Chung Myung’s eyes flew wide open.

“I’m not small! For my age, I’m on the bigger side!”

“What are you even saying! You little chestnut-sized runt!”

Yang Hoe shouted back furiously.

“You’ve got one little trick and you think you can talk to an adult however you want?”

“…But why do you keep talking like you’re an adult? Aren’t you the one who just joined?”

“S-So what if I did?”

“Then I’m your Sahyeong.”

“…What?”

Yang Hoe’s eyes went blank.

“Sahyeong?”

“Yeah.”

“You are?”

“Yeah.”

To Yang Hoe’s questions, Chung Myung answered with maddening nonchalance.

“I was the first to enter Hwasan. I came in when I was just a newborn.”

“But y-you’re not a Chung generation disc…….”

“I’m not old enough yet to receive a Taoist name. So I’m not a ‘Chung’ disciple. Isn’t that title only used for disciples who’ve received a Taoist name? That’s how it is with everyone else, at least.”

“Th-That……”

That varied depending on the situation and the sect. But that wasn’t what mattered right now.

“You’re saying you’re my Sahyeong?”

“I’m telling you, yes.”

“You are?”

“Did this bastard seriously go deaf?”

Snorting, Chung Myung spoke roughly.

“And I told you I’m your Sahyeong, so why do you keep talking so casually? Where’d all that etiquette you were screaming about go – did you mix it into your rice and swallow it?”

“…”

“Here, call me ‘S-a-h-y-e-o-n-g.’ Go on. Don’t worry. Everyone feels awkward at first, but you get used to it fast.”

“I-I can’t ackn-…” 

“Hm?”

“I won’t acknowledge it!”

Yang Hoe rolled his eyes back and charged again. In a sect, hierarchy takes precedence over age. That was an iron rule that never changed. It was such an obvious fact that even Yang Hoe – raised under strict teachings in a Confucian household – knew it well, but with his vision blurring red, what use were teachings and principles to him now?

“Waaaaaaah!”

Yang Hoe rushed in and brought the fire poker down. If someone had been watching, they might have gasped at the speed – far too swift for his age – but his opponent was the wrong one. That was Yang Hoe’s misfortune.

“And this bastard thinks…?”

Chung Myung lightly brushed the incoming fire poker aside with the back of his hand, then in the same instant snapped an uppercut into Yang Hoe’s jaw.

“Kyaaaaaaaaa!”

Yang Hoe toppled backward with a bizarre shriek.

“I told you I’m your Sahyeong and you still swing a stick at me? You’re really going all out today, huh?”

“Th-This makes no sense…… this…… a brat like that……”

“What? It makes no sense?”

From Chung Myung’s slender neck, the sound of cracking joints was heard, chillingly echoing through the air.

“Yeah. I’ll make it very clear what turns the impossible into reality. Shut your mouth tight. You’ll bite your tongue!”

Like a wildcat pouncing on its prey, Chung Myung lunged at Yang Hoe in a flash, pinned him down hard with his leg, and started swinging his fists at him without a warning.

“Aaaaaaagh!”

“Brat? No parents? Ignorant?”

“Aaagh! Aaaaaaagh!”

Chung Myung’s small fists struck Yang Hoe’s face – every part of it – with uncanny precision.

“You bastard, you’re actually crazy smart when you look at it, aren’t you? First time I’ve ever seen someone spit out all three things I hate most, all at once, the moment we meet! Say it again, you little shit!”

“Aaaaaaagh! Ahk! Nose! N-Nose!”

“I couldn’t even get past the Thousand Character Classic, and what did you ever do for me! Ever even bought me a single book?”

“I-I didn’t know……!”

“Die! You bastard! Diiiiiiieeeeeeeee!”

“Aaaaaaaaaaagh!”

Yang Hoe’s desperate screams spread far and wide towards Danjang Ridge, where clouds hung low.

❀ ❀ ❀

“…Listen carefully.”

“No…”

“Hold your hands up straight, you bastard!”

Chung Myung stuck his lips out in a pout. Even so, the arms he’d been lowering little by little shot back up. Seeing there wasn’t the slightest sign of remorse, Chung Mun pressed a palm to his throbbing forehead.

“…Wasn’t it until tomorrow?”

“What was?”

“The Repentance Chamber!”

“…They let me out.”

“Let you out? Does that make any sense?! Now you’re even running off from the Repentance Chamber?”

“No, I’m serious! Baek Hak Sasuk [백학(白學)] said I could go out!”

“Baek Hak Sasuk?”

“Yes!”

“…And what about Un Pyeong [운평(雲萍)] Sasukjo, his Master?”

“…”

“Don’t tell me…? You!”

“I’m telling you it wasn’t me! I didn’t hit him!”

“…”

“It’s just, well… Baek Hak Sasuk was alone, so I only asked if I could go out, and then… just…”

The hand that had been covering Chung Mun’s forehead slid down and fully covered his face. It was obvious: he’d threatened the frail(?) Sasuk while Sasukjo was away. In the first place, Baek Hak was one of the youngest among the Baek disciples, so there wasn’t much of an age gap between him and Chung Mun either.

“Now you’re threatening your Sasuk?”

“If I didn’t hit him, that’s good enough, isn’t it?”

“Right. That’s well do-…… No, it’s not, you little punk!”

Chung Mun practically breathed fire. Still raging, he snapped his gaze aside. Seeing Yang Hoe – his face swollen until it was practically the size of a pig’s bladder – he ground his teeth.

“If you ran away from the Repentance Chamber, you should at least have the sense to crouch quietly in a corner! Why did you do that to a kid who was just minding his own business! He’s a precious disciple Master has taken in for the first time in years, and instead of taking good care of your junior…!”

“No, it’s not like I meant to… that bastard…”

“What? What did he do! As if – I can already tell you were the one who picked the fight again!”

“No… that bastard called me an ignorant little brat with no parents, so…”

“Has this bastard lost his mind!”

In that moment, Chung Mun rushed in without warning and kicked Yang Hoe.

“Kyaaaaaaa!”

With about half his soul already handed over to the underworld, Yang Hoe had been staring blankly into space – only to roll helplessly backward from the sudden kick.

“What? ‘No parents’? You just let your mouth run, didn’t you?”

“S-Sahyeong! I’ve been wronged! I never said that! How would I even know something like that!”

“Ah? Ah… Right! Chung Myung, yoooouuu little punk! You lied again, didn’t you?”

Staring blankly at Chung Mun as he went back to bickering with Chung Myung, Yang Hoe finally let go of the last thin string of sanity he’d still been clinging to.

‘I want to go home……. I should’ve just listened to Mother. Mom……’

“Ahem. Are you all right?”

A little later, Chung Mun cleared his throat awkwardly and asked. The two of them had moved to a cliff some distance away from the hut, and the air between them was thick with discomfort. Chung Mun gently patted Yang Hoe’s shoulder, who seemed utterly vacant.

“I’m sorry. If I’d known that he would come yesterday, I would’ve done something about it, no matter what.”

“…”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“…”

“Right, of course it does. That lunatic beat your face like it was some kind of pig’s bladd…”

“Th-That…… what about Master…….”

Yang Hoe, who had remained silent as if completely choked by his words, finally spoke while turning to Chung Mun with unfocused eyes.

A small sigh slipped from Chung Mun’s lips.

“I know it feels unfair, but even if you tell Master, it won’t really change anything. Now that he’s back, Master will probably only show his face once every three or four days anyway.”

“…”

“His stomach isn’t in great shape.”

Chung Mun added it like an excuse, unable to bring himself to meet Yang Hoe’s eyes, staring off into the distance instead. Yang Hoe, who had been staring silently at Chung Mun’s face, opened his mouth in a trembling voice – like someone who had learned something he never should have known.

“You’re saying he is my Sahyeong?”

“…”

“Him?”

Chung Mun looked at him with nothing but pity in his eyes, and then spoke.

“I know you have many questions. And the one you most want to ask is probably, ‘Why is there a madman like that in our Taoist sect?’ Right?”

Yang Hoe hurriedly nodded. He truly had so, so many things he wanted to ask – but yes, that was the thing he wanted to know most.

Chung Mun, still gazing into the distance, spoke slowly.

“Chung Myung isn’t a child who entered Hwasan in a usual way… To start with, he’s a child Hwasan brought in and raised. So, well… ahem. They couldn’t really examine whether his nature, or his character, was the sort that could properly belong to the Taoist sect.”

“But you said he’s my Sahyeong…….”

“That’s right. He is Master’s disciple, after all.”

“…”

“He still hasn’t officially received a Taoist name. Of course, well… he’s about at the age where he should be receiving it, but since there are quite a few circumstances we need to take into consideration…”

Even without hearing what those ‘circumstances to consider’ were, he felt like he could guess. They were weighing whether it would truly be all right to make that crazy little bastard into a Taoist at all.

“Sahyeong.”

“Right. It’s okay to cry. Should I step away for a moment?”

“That’s not it…”

Yang Hoe asked, blankly.

“Then is he…… no, is Chung Myung Sahyeong that strong because he has been learning martial arts since he was little? If I learn Hwasan’s martial arts too, will I get revenge… no, will I become strong like Chung Myung Sahyeong?”

At that question, Chung Mun turned his head with a lonely expression and looked up at the distant sky.

“Yang Hoe. As I told you yesterday as well…”

His low voice drifted faintly through the air.

“…There are walls in this world that cannot be crossed by any amount of human effort.”

“…”

“Now you need to know that too. And someone who comes to know that – we call them adults.”

A small trace of regret clung to Chung Mun’s voice.

“Let’s…… become adults.”

And at the corners of Yang Hoe’s eyes, sorrowful tears quietly gathered, bleak and helpless. 

“Kuuh.”

Chung Myung rolled around on the floor.

“Ahh, this is nice. That damned Repentance Chamber – why is the floor there so bumpy that you can’t even sleep properly?”

Chung Myung lay back with both hands tucked behind his head, laughing to himself.

“Kkeuuh. Who knew I’d get a direct Saje I wasn’t even hoping for! What a gift. From now on, I’m going to make him do everything – starting with cleaning, all the way to cooking rice.”

Of course, he hadn’t been doing it much to begin with, but now he could not do it even more boldly! Up to now, when Chung Mun set the meal, he at least washed the bowls – but from here on out, wouldn’t the guy beneath him take care of everything on his own? What a deal!

“At this rate, the Repentance Chamber was worth going into. I even got myself a junior.”

Chung Myung threw his head back, cackling. Other Sasuks had as many as ten disciples each, Baek Oh had only ever had two, which had been a constant source of dissatisfaction. Now, at last, it seemed he, too, was escaping life as the youngest.

“But where’d Sahyeong take the kid? The sun’s already set and they still aren’t back. I’m getting hungry now…”

At that moment, the door flew open. Chung Myung poked his head up, spotted Yang Hoe standing in the doorway, and broke into the brightest smile.

“Oh, hey, Saje. You’re back?”

“…”

“Well, there was a little misunderstanding, but that’s just how people live, right? Isn’t it? Now, looks like it’s all cleared up, so come on over and give my shoulders a nice rub…”

“Come out.”

“Huh?”

For a moment, Chung Myung doubted his ears. He widened his eyes and looked Yang Hoe over properly. Yang Hoe’s eyes – swollen until they were no bigger than buttonholes – were blazing.

“Come out, you bastard. Let’s go again. One more round.”

“Hah?”

Chung Myung’s mouth gaped open, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Wow… after getting hit that badly, you can still say that?”

“Of course I can! I got hit! If I hadn’t, would I be saying this? You ignorant bastard!”

Chung Myung flinched slightly and titled his head to the side.

“Hey. Didn’t you hear me say I’m your Sahyeong? You need to know your place…”

“Why? Are you scared? So you’re going to pin me down with seniority?”

“…”

“If you’re a man, come out! Until I accept it, you’re not my Sahyeong.”

“Haaah…….”

Chung Myung, who had been standing there in stunned disbelief, let out a crooked grin.

“You’ve got some backbone. Fine.”

Getting up from his spot, he muttered as if he actually liked what he was seeing.

“The others usually last, at best, two days. How many do you think you’ll manage?”

As Chung Myung slowly curled his small fist into a ball, a chilling crack echoed.

“Try to hold out for three days, at least, you cute little Saje bastard!”

“Die!”

Yang Hoe rolled his eyes back and charged straight at Chung Myung.

________

Isn’t it rly sweet, that while still reprimanding Chung Myung, Chung Mun kicked Yang Hoe when he thought he offended Chung Myung by calling him a parentless brat ㅠㅠ

________

Please, subscribe/donate on Patreon or Buymeacoffee – support my work and help me buy official cookies to purchase the chapters. My schedule is on the About page.