Chapter 24
Nameless’s Report (2)
“Anyway, since you tend to mess with whatever’s right in front of you, be careful.”
And with that, the demolition contractor, Mr. Park, left him with a strange parting comment.
“If you ever see that guy—Go-oh-ki or whatever his name is—don’t think. Just…”
“What did he say again?”
It felt like he’d heard something important, but he couldn’t quite remember.
Rumble.
Then, with the sound of a wall collapsing, Cheonma crossed his arms in front of what used to be the kitchen wall, now reduced to a rag.
“There. All demolished.”
Mouth agape, Kim Chan-won stared at the scene, dumbfounded.
“What kind of demolition is this? The wall’s all uneven!”
Cheonma had left not only the tiles but also giant fist-shaped dents all over the wall.
“How am I supposed to put tiles on a wall this lumpy?”
“Disappointing.”
“What?”
“Mr. Kim, didn’t you introduce yourself as a seasoned and highly experienced tile craftsman?”
“So what if I did?”
Cheonma looked down at him with an expression of pity.
“Are the surfaces you tile always smooth? Always flat?”
“Well… no, but…”
“Sometimes they’re uneven. Rough. A true craftsman—a true master—produces the best results even under bad conditions. Don’t you agree?”
His speech flowed unnaturally eloquent for someone who looked like a thug. For a moment, he didn’t even seem like the lunatic who had just wrecked a perfectly fine site.
“Still, you didn’t have to make a flat wall uneven on purpose, did you?”
“Did you come here to teach me easy things? I came here to learn your best techniques.”
Kim Chan-won’s jaw dropped.
What a brazen bastard…
Even people who begged and paid him good money couldn’t get him to teach them his tile skills. And yet this brutish-looking man—learning for free—had the gall to talk like that.
No way I’m teaching him my real techniques.
He was about to refuse, shaking his head, when Cheonma spoke with a challenging glint in his eye.
“Come, Mr. Kim. Show me your best craftsmanship.”
His tone was like pressing the taunt button in a fighting game—provoking a defeated opponent.
Offended to the core, Kim Chan-won clenched his fists and nodded stiffly.
“Fine! I’ll show you what a real tile craftsman looks like!”
He mixed mortar—a blend of cement and sand—in a big plastic tub, scooped some onto a trowel, and began carefully attaching tiles to the kitchen wall one by one.
This “floating” method, known as tteobal-i construction, was among the most difficult tile techniques—it required balancing the mix of cement, sand, and water while keeping the surface perfectly level.
Chuk. Tok.
After long, meticulous effort, he finished the uneven wall with a smooth layer of white tiles.
“Well? How’s that?”
Cheonma examined the lustrous white tiles and nodded.
“Not bad.”
It was a curt answer, but Kim Chan-won’s face brightened—he could tell it was high praise from this man.
“Heh heh. I’d say I’m one of the top tile guys in the country.”
Wiping sweat from his forehead, he rolled his shoulders proudly.
“Alright, now watch me do the entryway.”
“I’ll handle the demolition.”
“No, no! There’s no need for that!”
Kim Chan-won quickly blocked his way.
“You learned the floating method, right? Now it’s time to learn overlay tiling.”
“Is that so.”
“Of course. You can’t just know one method.”
Barely convincing him, Kim Chan-won wiped the sweat from his brow. The man was like a walking bomb—turn your back for a second and everything might explode.
“Now, first, you sweep up nicely like this.”
He grabbed a broom and dustpan, cleaning the entryway tiles himself. Normally, the learner should do grunt work—but he didn’t dare risk letting this guy handle anything.
“Watch carefully.”
He poured tile adhesive and water into a bucket.
“You’ve gotta mix it well. No lumps.”
After mixing, he spread it evenly over the old tiles and began sticking new ones on top.
“Simple work,” murmured Cheonma, stroking his chin.
Compared to the earlier floating method, this overlay technique looked easy enough.
“So you just stick the tile to the floor with white clay.”
“Easier said than done. You still have to spread it evenly.”
“Alright. I’ll do the rest.”
“You? You’re actually gonna do it yourself?”
Just as Kim was about to nod, he suddenly remembered what Jang Chae-won had warned him:
“Just teach him the method—never let him actually do the work!”
Right… he smashed the wall earlier without warning…
She wasn’t one to say something without reason.
And if Cheonma botched it, they’d have to reorder all the tiles again.
“No! You can’t!”
As soon as Cheonma lifted a tile, Kim waved his hands frantically.
“Just watch today.”
“Don’t worry.”
“I said just watch! You can’t stick tiles on your first day!”
“I can.”
With a proud grin, Cheonma looked down at him.
“I am Cheonma.”
“Still, I said no!”
Despite his protests, Cheonma had already picked up a tile. He moved so fast that all Kim saw was an afterimage.
“Hey! Stop that!”
Kim reached out desperately—
—and suddenly, a fierce gust of wind surged. The tile flew from Cheonma’s hand and floated in midair.
“Huh? Telekinetic grab?”
Cheonma’s eyes flashed.
He’d known the old man wasn’t ordinary, but to control objects midair? That was the mark of a true master.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen this.”
Cheonma raised his hand, gathering inner energy.
Vwoom.
A metallic hum echoed from his palm as the tile, drifting toward Kim, stopped midair.
“In the old days, the orthodox sects used this trick to slide their wine cups to me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Old men like you—inner energy’s all you’ve got to show.”
His sharp grin glinted with red light in his eyes.
“Even if my inner power’s diminished, I’ll never turn down a contest.”
“What contest? Just put the tile down!”
Panicked, Kim sent a stronger gust of wind.
Whoooosh!
The wind pushed the tile back toward him.
“Not a chance, old man.”
Dark red energy flared from Cheonma’s eyes, and the tile drifted back toward his hand again.
“I’ve never lost a telekinetic duel.”
His words hit like another taunt button.
Kim didn’t even understand what he meant—but it stung his pride.
“I haven’t lost a tile job in sixty years!”
White light flashed in Kim’s eyes.
Fwooooosh!
A storm burst from his palm. The tile spun like a fan blade, kicking up clouds of cement dust.
“Heavenly Demon Grand Art!”
Rumble!
The clash of forces shook the entire apartment like an earthquake.
“Urgh…”
Straining every last ounce of strength, Kim released a final blast of wind.
Crack—CRASH!
The spinning tile shattered into powder, scattering like mist.
As the dust settled, the trembling subsided.
“Impressive.”
Cheonma lowered his hand, surveying the powdered remains.
“To think you could match my Heavenly Demon Art head-on.”
“Hmph. I’ve never lost in tile work.”
“Good.”
With newfound respect in his eyes, Cheonma nodded.
“Mr. Kim, I acknowledge you as a true master worthy of teaching me.”
Of course, their “battle” had nothing to do with tile work—but Cheonma still nodded solemnly.
“I’ll be in your care from now on.”
Somehow, Kim felt a strange sense of pride. He knew how rare it was to earn this man’s acknowledgment.
“Leave it to me anytime!”
“Good. It’s getting late. Let’s continue another day.”
“Alright. Practice hard till then.”
“I will.”
Cheonma walked out calmly.
Maybe it was because he’d unleashed his inner power after so long—or maybe because that stubborn old man had praised him—but Kim felt oddly exhilarated watching him leave.
“Heh… first time in years I’ve used that much energy.”
He chuckled weakly—then froze.
The combined force of their clash had shattered not only the stored tiles but also most of the apartment’s fixtures.
And then, suddenly, Park’s words came back to him:
“If you ever see that Go-oh-ki guy, don’t think—just run.
The moment you get tangled with him, the day’s work is doomed. Remember that!”
Kim finally understood.
“Ahh…”
Clutching his nearly bald head, he slumped to the floor, despairing at the wreckage.
“…What? Reordering tiles?”
Listening in disbelief, Jang Chae-won spoke into her phone.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that favor… I’ll reorder the tiles and pay you extra for labor.”
On the other end came a strange reply—something like ‘No, it’s my fault for not heeding Park’s warning,’ or ‘At least I earned his respect.’
“Thank you… really, thank you.”
She hung up and stared blankly at the contact name on her phone: Mr. Kim, Tile Specialist.
“Apparently, he broke every tile while trying to teach that guy.
Just reorder them; I’ll finish the site myself.”
“Don’t be too harsh. I don’t think he meant any harm.”
As she mulled over Kim’s words—
Ding.
A chime rang as a muscular figure in a sleeveless shirt stepped inside.
It was Cheonma.
“You—you’re here?”
“I am.”
“Did the tile training go well?”
He nodded coolly.
“He has remarkable inner strength for a mortal. Worthy of his boasts.”
That was not something anyone who’d just learned tiling should be saying.
Jang Chae-won rubbed her twitching eye and forced a smile.
“So it was hard, right? Tiling’s tough work.”
“Not at all.”
Arms folded, he spoke with pride.
“With a little more practice, even I will master it.”
She sighed.
“That’s strange. Mr. Kim said you shattered every tile trying to ‘learn.’”
“Ah, that. A trivial matter.”
“Trivial? We have to reorder over thirty pyeong of tile!”
“That kind of thing happens when using telekinesis.”
“Because he believes everything he does is right, he rarely empathizes with others and feels no guilt.”
Jang Chae-won suddenly remembered Nameless’s report.
He was spot on.
“That Mr. Kim—behind his gentle face, he’s stubborn and proud.”
“Huh?”
“He resisted my Heavenly Demon Art until he nearly burst a vein. I haven’t met someone who hates losing that much in ages.”
“He becomes deeply fascinated by people who catch his attention, observing them intensely.”
Accurate again.
“With skill like that, he deserves respect.”
“He despises the weak but honors the strong.”
“If I keep learning tiling, I’ll be able to handle more diverse materials. That’ll help me regain my inner power faster.”
“Every choice he makes is based solely on what benefits him most.”
“Nanobot… just how much did you see when you wrote that report?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ah—nothing. Ahem. Must be catching a cold.”
Cheonma frowned sympathetically.
“A summer cold, hmm? Even dogs avoid it—means you should, too.”
“What nonsense is that?”
“It’s advice to take care of yourself.”
“That’s advice?”
“Yes.”
The way he said it made her want to punch him.
“Ugh…”
Holding back her irritation, Jang Chae-won exhaled deeply.
No. I decided to keep watching a bit longer.
She recalled the phrase Nameless had written: “Suspicion breeds ghosts.”
And with a strained smile, she said—
“Right. Good work today.”
