So? Did Someone Force You to Become the Heavenly Demon?

Chapter 61: Laziness (懶怠) (2)

After the sparring match between Il-mok and the assistant instructor ended.

Those who had been watching displayed a variety of expressions.

‘I felt it when he subdued Dokgo Pae, but he truly is on a different level.’

‘Still… at that level, it’s a gap that can be closed with just a bit more effort!’

Although Il-mok had lost to the assistant instructor, the disciples of the Hall considered his skills to be sufficiently impressive.

Therefore, no one suspected that Il-mok had intentionally lost to conceal his true abilities.

Except for one person.

‘Hehehe. As expected, he’s quite the amusing fellow.’

Chu Il-hwan, who had sparred with Il-mok during the entrance examination, had vaguely sensed Il-mok’s true capabilities.

That was precisely why he had deliberately paired Il-mok with the assistant instructor. He knew that among the disciples, there was no one who could draw out Il-mok’s true abilities.

Yet, to think he would hide his skills even during the match with the assistant instructor. And by deliberately losing, no less.

It was an unconventional tactic, one rarely seen among the members of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, who revered martial prowess.

However, even though Chu Il-hwan noticed this fact, he chose not to point it out.

‘I’d love to crack his skull open to see what schemes he’s hiding in there.’

There was no need to share something that piqued his interest with others.

Chu Il-hwan almost unconsciously licked his lips, a bad habit he exhibited when overcome with the urge to kill.

‘Phew. I made the right choice leaving it to Assistant Instructor Jang.’

Had he personally sparred with Il-mok, he might have succumbed to his murderous impulses and put a hole in the boy’s head.

Suppressing his urge, Chu Il-hwan beamed at Il-mok. “Hahaha! As expected of Disciple Il-mok! To last that long against the assistant instructor!”

At Chu Il-hwan’s first-ever praise, the other disciples who were receiving training together looked at Il-mok with a mixture of envy, admiration, and jealousy in their eyes.

On the other hand, Il-mok was letting out a sigh of relief.

‘Whew. Since he’s only praising me, does that mean he was fooled? Then, he probably won’t touch me either, right?’

But as if dashing Il-mok’s hopes, Chu Il-hwan approached him with a smirk.

“However, your sword movements still lack fluidity. First, your wrist—”

Watching Chu Il-hwan’s hand reach for his wrist, Il-mok shuddered.

***

After two hours of martial arts training under Chu Il-hwan, it was followed by another two hours of physical conditioning conducted by another instructor.

Only after those gruelling trainings ended were the disciples given a one-hour break for lunch.

During this lunch break, several of Il-mok’s fellow Upper Class disciples attempted to approach him.

They weren’t seeking duels like Dokgo Pae.

After all, they had become fellow disciples with a disciple of the Heavenly Demon, so there were many who wanted to build rapport.

However, as they approached him, Il-mok abruptly headed off in a direction other than the dining hall.

“Eighth Young Master, how about having a meal together?”

“Becoming classmates at the Hall like this is also fate, so how about we chat a little?”

But Il-mok, without even stopping, quickly replied and swiftly left the scene.

“I’m sorry. I have business at the Black Dragon Pavilion, go ahead and eat without me!”

As Il-mok swiftly declined their invitations and disappeared, some looked slightly offended, while others simply shrugged and headed towards the dining hall.

Among them, three people, driven by curiosity, followed Il-mok toward the Black Dragon Pavilion.

What reason could the Heavenly Demon’s disciple have for rushing back to the Black Dragon Pavilion so urgently?

What they saw was Il-mok grabbing a bundle of clothes from his room before sprinting toward the bathhouse at breakneck speed.

“…Why is he going to the bathhouse?”

“To wash, obviously?”

“That’s what’s strange. There’s training again in the afternoon, so why bathe now?”

In the midst of their confusion, one of them murmured as if he had realized something.

“…Could it be, he wet himself?”

“Wet what?”

“Just now. When the assistant instructor’s saber touched his neck.”

“Ah!!”

Though they found it hard to believe, the one on the right suddenly recalled something and exclaimed.

“Come to think of it, I think the Eighth Young Master was trembling after the duel.”

“Hahaha! So that’s why he rushed here even when we tried to talk to him!”

“The Heavenly Demon’s youngest disciple, a piss-pants! What an era we live in. Heh heh.”

It was a misunderstanding that if Il-mok had heard, he would’ve frothed at the mouth—this was a complete misunderstanding.

***

On the way out of the Black Dragon Pavilion after a thorough wash, he hummed to himself cheerfully.

“Hmm~”

Washing off the sweat had calmed his mind.

Even though more training was scheduled for the afternoon, the thought of eating while drenched in sweat was horrifying.

Moreover, having had his wrist subjected to Chu Il-hwan’s molestation, he felt the urge to wash it off immediately.

In addition to that.

‘Eating surrounded by stinking brutes? Disgusting. Ugh.’

By the time he finished bathing, the others would’ve already eaten, leaving the dining hall clean and peaceful.

It was truly a win-win situation.

And upon arriving at the dining hall, his prediction was confirmed.

The disciples had already finished their meals and left, making the place impressively serene.

‘Hmm. There’s still a slight scent of sweat lingering, but it’s tolerable.’

If it was this level of smell after everyone had left, he dreaded to think what it would have been like if he had come to eat with them—He probably would have thrown up right there.

With the sensation of having the dining hall all to myself, I gathered some food, placed it on the table, and started enjoying my meal in a peaceful state of mind.

Just as he took his first few bites, three men entered the dining hall and approached the table where he was sitting.

“Ugggh.”

The thick stench of sweat hit him mid-bite, making him gag..

‘Damn. Was this the kind of smell coming from my body until just now?’

His stomach churned, his face twisting into disgust as he addressed them.

“I’d like to eat alone, so would you please leave?”

Maybe they took his words as a dismissal, because the smiles on their faces as they approached quickly twisted into scowls.

But the nausea he felt made him care less about their distorted expressions.

The problem was their lingering presence and the absurd words that spewed from their mouths.

“Even if you’re the Heavenly Demon’s disciple, isn’t this too much disrespect?”

“Hmph. If word gets out that the Heavenly Demon’s disciple wet his pants, it would cause quite a stir. Kuhehe.”

“…What the hell are you talking about?”

Il-mok was too stunned by their stupidity that he fell silent. Mistaking that as a weakness, they gleefully pressed on him.

“Heh heh. Did you think we didn’t see you trembling after the spar?”

“And didn’t you rush back to the Black Dragon Pavilion to bathe right after training?”

“We know. You pissed yourself and tried to hide it by washing up.”

How stupid they have to be to misunderstand the situation in such a way?

While Il-mok was laughing in disbelief, they continued to babble.

“So stop looking down on us.”

“We just wanted to get closer as fellow disciples, but if you keep this up, we won’t stay quiet.”

“Hahaha. Wouldn’t it be hilarious if rumors spread that the Heavenly Demon’s disciple is a piss-pants?”

Their threat to spread false rumors if he continued to ignore them made him sigh.

It didn’t intimidate him. It just reminded him of his time as a civil servant.

‘Trying to explain would be pointless.’

Trying to reason with retarded people was always futile.

For these kinds of people, the only thing that their brains are receptive to is handcuffs, at least that’s how it works in the modern era.

But this place was different.

Tap.

Since he had already lost his appetite due to their stench, Il-mok stood with a smile.

“Follow me. Let’s have the kind of conversation you’re looking for.”

***

Upon reaching a secluded spot behind the dining hall, Il-mok spoke with a disinterested expression, beckoning with his finger.

“Come at me.”

His blunt words made the trio’s faces twist.

“How arrogant.”

“Even though you passed the entrance exam with flying colors, we’re still in the same class as you.”

“Do you think you can handle all three of us by yourself?”

Their confidence came from Il-mok’s earlier spars—he was strong, but not overwhelmingly so.

Of course, from Il-mok’s perspective, it was utterly ridiculous.

“Your tongues are quite loose. Am I that frightening to you?”

“Hmph. It’s not you we’re afraid of.”

“Did you forget Instructor Chu Il-hwan’s warning? Unauthorized sparring means penalty points.”

At their words, a deep sneer appeared on Il-mok’s lips.

“And you, martial artists of the cult, are trembling over a mere penalty point?”

“!!”

As their expressions soured at Il-mok’s provocation—

“If you’re so scared, I’ll go first.”

Il-mok suddenly launched himself at them.

He crossed the distance in an instant and drew the sword on his side without unsheathing it from the scabbard. While swinging it like a club, he said.

“Don’t worry. I won’t kill you!”

Why do instructors and assistant instructors prohibit unauthorized sparring? It’s to prevent accidents such as accidentally crippling or killing your opponent by mistake.

But Il-mok was confident.

Confident that he could subdue those guys without resorting to lethal force or crippling them.

Whack!                                                                                                   

Il-mok’s scabbard, moving much faster than during his duel with the assistant instructor, struck the face of the one who stood at the front.

Caught off guard by Il-mok’s surprise attack, the remaining two belatedly drew their weapons to resist, but—

Whack!

Whack!

They too didn’t last long before being struck by Il-mok’s scabbard and sent sprawling to the ground by the blows.

However, Il-mok wasn’t finished.

“You shouldn’t run your mouths so carelessly.”

Whack!

Whack!

Like beating unobedient stray dogs, Il-mok began to thrash the three who were sprawled on the ground.

‘As long as I don’t kill or cripple them, it’s fine, right?’

Il-mok knew all too well how to inflict pain without causing permanent damage. He had to thank that to his Master.

The Heavenly Demon, who had noticed Il-mok’s unique physique—specifically, his talent for rapidly growing stronger when his life was in danger—would often force him to engage in near-death spars.

But that only worked a few times as Il-mok eventually adapted to the Heavenly Demon’s killing intent and the vast pressure from his Demonic Energy.

From then on, the Heavenly Demon resorted to striking Il-mok in extremely painful areas without causing lasting harm or killing him.

In other words, Il-mok was brilliantly recreating the technique he had learned while being beaten by his master.

“Consider it an honor!”

After all, they are experiencing the technique of the Heavenly Demon, whom they worship like a god!

After thoroughly thrashing the trio with his scabbard for a while—

“Phew. That feels refreshing.”

As the pent-up frustration from his obsessive-compulsive disorder and various other issues washed away, Il-mok felt refreshed and naturally wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

Then, noticing the sweat on his hand, his face contorted in disgust once more.

“Tsk. I’ve sweated again from all this beating.”

Irritated, Il-mok gave the three a few more whacks with the scabbard before abruptly tossing it aside.

“Bring me a new scabbard.”

“!?”

The three, who were covered in bruises from the thorough beating, looked up at Il-mok with baffled expressions.

“I have issues with cleanliness, so I can’t stand touching or getting dirty things on me. I took a bath before eating earlier because I was sweaty, not because I pissed myself. Understand?”

At Il-mok’s belated explanation, the three nodded frantically.

Pleased with their now-responsive behavior, Il-mok nodded with satisfaction.

Sure enough, when dealing with difficult people, the fist proved to be more effective than wasting arguments on them.

“This scabbard is dirty now from hitting you sweaty bastards, so bring me a new one. I’ll be eating, have it back before I finish.”

“Yes, understood!”

Satisfied with their now-prompt response, Il-mok smiled contentedly and added.

“Oh, and by the way, what happened today is our little secret.”

Even in this situation, Il-mok had no intention of abandoning his strategy of concealing his strength.

As Il-mok grinned and made a gesture of putting his finger to his lips, the three swallowed hard and nodded frantically.