Chapter 9

After meeting the Heavenly Demon, I headed straight for the True Demon Market.

For the time being, time is money.

There was no time for dawdling. I needed to get things done.

About an hour later, I arrived at my destination.

The True Demon Market was a special place.

Elixirs, secret manuals, rare weapons, and more.

Though it looked like an ordinary market, it brimmed with rarities you’d hardly see anywhere else.

Security was naturally tight, there were four guards just at the gate.

I approached them and revealed my identity.

They saluted with disciplined fists.

“Welcome, Seventh Young Lord! We welcome your visit.”

No further explanation was needed.

I had hurried here, but the Heavenly Demon’s orders had arrived even faster.

Thanks to that, I could enter without any hassle.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve been here, too.’

Inside, the market was quiet.

It was always like this.

Thousands worked at the Main Sect, but only a few could use the True Demon Market.

Because entry required one to hold a hundred taels of silver.

It kept riffraff from muddying the waters, and it worked.

How many had that kind of money?

Even warriors from the Main Hall had meager monthly stipends.

‘Let’s take a stroll around first.’

I was looking for a yin-aspected elixir that would harmonize with the Nine Heavens Demon-Ascension Art.

I made the rounds, gauging what was on offer and at what prices.

There were few customers, but the place was vast with many stalls, so it took quite some time.

High margins must have kept them afloat despite the low foot traffic.

‘This should do.’

I narrowed it down to a few, and chose the Yin-Soul Pellet.

Grand name aside, it was a low-grade elixir with modest effects.

Even so, it would help me a lot right now, but the problem was the price.

‘A hundred thirty-five taels, huh.’

All I had was the hundred twenty I had squeezed from Yuk Ja-heung.

Seeing that I was short by fifteen, it seems I would have to haggle.

“About this Yin-Soul Pellet, could you do a hundred twenty taels?”

I asked the merchant straight.

He shook his head.

“Can’t do.”

“Shave off fifteen. I could become a big customer.”

“You think anyone becomes a big customer? Looks like you came backed by someone’s guarantee. Still, it’s a no. Move along.”

The merchant was adamant.

Fair enough.

He didn’t know who I was.

I’d have to make him realize I was the Seventh Young Lord—and that dealing with me would pay off.

I hinted to him.

“Did you hear? Yesterday, the Cult Leader brought a disciple—”

“The new one? I heard.”

“I’m that—”

“You’re saying that you’re that person? Don’t make me laugh.”

He snorted.

What kind of reaction was that?

True, news of my visit would reach the market guards or higher-ups, not the vendors.

But such blatant cynicism?

Did it not occur to him I might actually be the real thing?

As if reading my mind, the merchant went on.

“Do you know how many claimed to be the Seventh Young Lord already? All wanting discounts—or freebies.”

I was momentarily speechless.

Were there that many gutsy fools impersonating the Heavenly Demon’s disciple?

No wonder people said the Demon Cult is full of lunatics.

“A fight is breaking out! The Black Spirit Corps vice-captain and the Mad Blood Group’s group leader are throwing punches!”

Just then, someone shouted.

With a roar, dozens of patrons swarmed over. Where had they all been hiding?

Either way, it made me sigh.

The Black Spirit Corps vice-captain and a Mad Blood Group’s group leader weren’t grunts—yet they were brawling in public.

‘These savages.’

I clicked my tongue and told the merchant,

“I’ll go… broaden my horizons.”

Words aside, this wasn’t gawking. It was “broadening my horizons.”

-With that excuse, I joined the crowd.

‘After all, wasn’t it said that one should never miss a good fight.’

“Die!”

“You first, you dog-spawned bastard!”

Curses flew, fists and feet tangled. A yellowed tooth—whose, who knew—spun through the air.

At least neither of them drew weapons.

They weren’t crossing that line.

“Go for the waist!”

“Boss, split his skull in two!”

The crowd egged them on.

In the midst of it, something out of place caught my eye.

‘That kid?’

Amid fully grown men stood a neatly dressed girl.

About ten years old.

Bright eyes sparkling with curiosity—her name was Wi So-rang.

It was none other than the Heavenly Demon’s sixth disciple.

In other words, my Sajeo¹.

‘Didn’t think I’d run into her here.’

In my last life, Wi So-rang and I were distant.

More precisely, I avoided her.

At first, I didn’t want to call a ten-year-old “Sajeo.”

Soon, another reason piled on.

—Sajae, what art did you learn today? Try it—I’ll check your form.

—Sajae, have you fixed what Master pointed out yesterday? Then spar with me.

It drove me nuts.

The Heavenly Demon was grinding me hard already, and she stole what little rest I had.

Pestering me to spar, pestering me to play.

I had no real way to refuse.

I said no countless times, but it was useless.

This tiny lifeform was vicious enough to be a product of the Demon Cult through and through.

—Sajae, I made a game using martial arts. Play with me. Tired because of Master? Want a real break? If your arms and legs break, you can rest till they heal.

Do ten-year-olds say things like that?

Absurdly, the kid was pretty strong.

Her little fists packed a punch, resulting in me tasting the spice of those fists more than a few times. In the end, I had no choice but to hang out with her while gritting my teeth.

But things changed over time.

Both she and I had talent, yet each had limits.

I couldn’t use internal energy past half a quarter of an hour due to severed meridians, whereas because she was young, her body was not yet suited to martial arts.

Between the two, severed meridians were the lesser handicap.

About a year in, I won our spar for the first time.

I poured everything into that half-a quarter window.

—Waaah! I lost to Sajae!

Wi So-rang bawled.

After that, she bothered me far less.

Said she’d “avenge” herself on Sajae and buried herself in training.

Sometimes she’d still come find me for a rematch.

Sometimes I won, sometimes she did—more often me.

One day, even those occasional rematches grew tiresome, and a small incident happened.

At the time, I was under heavy pressure.

My lifespan was running out, and the Nine Heavens Demon-Ascension Art had stalled at the seventh stage.

In the midst of that, So-rang lost and pouted.

—Are you happy you won? Give it a few years. Then Sajae will be nothing!

That scratched me raw.

Because in a few years, I really might be “nothing.”

So I snapped back.

—You don’t even know what you’re yapping about, do you?

—You! Is that how you talk to your Sajeo!

—Sajeo, my ass. I’ve never thought of you that way.

—Sajae…?

—Beat it. Don’t ever show up again. I have no time for kids like you.

Now I know.

She had no malice.

I was the one on edge.

Now, I’d just laugh it off.

After that, she stopped bothering me.

We kept our distance, meeting only briefly before I left the Demon Cult.

Her last image is vivid even now.

Seven years later, on a blustery night—

Wi So-rang waited for me at a pavilion.

Moonlight shattered on her silver hair as it whipped in the wind; her profile, turned to the night sky, glowed with that broken light.

It was like a scene from a painting.

That was expected.

By then, the once-bratty So-rang was hailed as the First Flower of the Demonic Path.

I still remember what we said that day.

Not that there’s any need to recall it now.

Anyway, the contrast with that last meeting felt strange, and yet welcoming.

After all, it was the little So-rang I’d grown grudgingly fond of.

‘Perfect timing.’

No one in the Cult didn’t know So-rang was a Little Demon.

That included the shopkeepers—so I’d use her to make them believe I was the Seventh Young Lord.

I had another option.

Bring a market guard.

But guards couldn’t leave their posts.

To take one along, I’d need the administrator’s leave—tedious.

But a sure method stood right before me.

“Ghk!”

The brawl ended then.

Victory went to the Black Spirit vice-captain.

I strode to So-rang and called out loudly,

“Sajeo!”

“…?”

She glanced around.

Then pointed at herself.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Sajeo?”

“That’s right. You’re Sixth Young Lady, Wi So-rang, aren’t you?”

“I am, but…”

“I knew it. Master had told me. That I’ve got a cute Sajeo.”

“Cute?”

She frowned.

Whoops—wrong word.

A Heavenly Demon’s disciple wouldn’t like being called cute.

“My mistake. Not cute—capable. He said you’re capable.”

“Capable? Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Hehe.”

She liked that.

“So who are you? I can guess from you calling me Sajeo.”

She asked, arms crossed—un-childlike.

“Baek Su-gyeong. The Cult Leader’s new disciple.”

“Figures. And the proof?”

“Proof?”

“There have been many cases of impostors in the True Demon Market.”

I was stumped for a moment.

To think there would be so many idiots living like it was their last day.

I didn’t come here often, but if even this kid knew, it had to be bad.

‘I should prove it first.’

“Sajeo, you’ve been training the Broad Sun Fist lately, right?”

“…!”

Her eyes widened.

The Heavenly Demon taught each disciple a different art.

So-rang should be learning the Broad Sun Fist about now—few knew that.

“How did you know?”

“Master told me.”

“Master?”

“Yeah. Don’t believe me? Alright, then I’ll say one more thing—your progress is slow, isn’t it?”

She faced a big problem.

Something talent and effort couldn’t fix:

“Short arms and legs.”

“—Heuk.”

She let out a thin gasp.

Bull’s-eye.

Age aside, she wasn’t a kid you could dismiss.

Me, Great Sahyung, and So-rang—

Among the seven disciples, we three had the greatest talent.

She was already showing exceptional talent in martial arts. Through repeated bone-marrow cleansing and the use of various elixirs, the amount of internal energy she possessed was by no means small.

She could probably handle the winner from the brawl just now with ease.

But her short limbs made progress in the Broad Sun Fist tough.

That was because the Broad Sun Fist was a martial art founded on securing a wide range of motion as its core premise.

“Now do you believe I’m your Sajae?”

I asked with a smile.

I’d learned all this firsthand in my last life.

Not knowing that, she could only assume Master told me about her.

“Yeah. Seems you are, Sajae. But—”

She suddenly lowered her head.

I wondered why—then she spoke.

“My arms and legs… are short?”

Her voice bubbled up from below.

She whipped her head up, wearing the look of a wounded little mouse.

“You sure you won’t regret saying that?”

“Hey, it wasn’t me who said that, it was Master who did.”

Of course, the Heavenly Demon never said that.

But it didn’t matter.

I had the right to sell him out.

Who do you think I returned for?

So-rang trembled.

“Don’t get cocky just ’cause you’re tall. I’ll knock you flat!”

Before I could respond, she stomped off the ground.

Her small body shot forward like an arrow.

‘Tsk. What a temper.’

I clicked my tongue.

It was clear that I had pricked her pride.

Nothing for it.

I’d have to meet her head-on.

‘Still, I can handle this.’

Right now I was only at the first stage of the Nine Heavens Demon-Ascension Art.

My internal energy was meager.

But I had fought So-rang countless times. I knew the Broad Sun Fist, and when she’d use which move.

“Hyap!”

The blistering strike coming now was Dawn Strike of the Broad Sun Fist.

I twisted aside.

Her fist grazed my chest.

I took three steps back.

Blows crashed like a waterfall where I’d stood. Fifth Form, Torrent Chain.

‘Impressive, as expected.’

I admired her inwardly.

Her movement belied her age.

For a ten-year-old to move like this—

Her talent was certain.

Yuk Ja-heung had no peers at that age either, but So-rang’s gifts surpassed even his by several tiers.

‘Next—Sun-Cleave Kick.’

She ground her teeth and whipped her leg up.

I slipped just outside the range and tugged her ankle.

She fell, legs splayed—then coiled them and sprang up like a spring.

At the same time she spun midair, whipping out a Spiral Kick.

As expected.

I was already behind her. I tapped my back to her spinning form to tease her.

“Short legs aren’t an excuse to flail. Distance is everything.”

“You done talking?”

She landed, spun, and attacked again.

Tak, tak, tak!

Our shadows overlapped; arms and fists met in rapid succession.

Our timing matched perfectly, like a choreographed spar.

Pop!

So-rang fell back.

Then stomped forward again.

Falling Sun Smash—a powerful move that gathers momentum to topple the foe.

I gauged her arm length and leap distance, shifting to the perfect spot.

Then thrust my fist.

“…Ah!”

A breath escaped So-rang.

Her fist stopped two inches before my dantian; mine, one inch before her face.

My win.

She dropped her head again.

Her shoulders trembled.

I felt a twinge of guilt, but in the Demon Cult, strength is the rule.

Everyone follows it, child or adult.

So I had to show her the gap—so she wouldn’t bother me going forward.

However—

“So Sajae is a genius! I like you!”

She lifted her head with a radiant grin.

‘…She likes me?’

Far from what I expected.

That never happened in my last life.

Maybe because it was unexpected.

A strange unease pricked me—

“Wooooaaah!”

Thunderous cheers erupted from all around.