Chapter 17
“Let’s talk about that slowly, over time.”
He didn’t say when he would hand it over.
Just handing over the Guihebo for a few pieces of information? Anyone could see that it would be a loss on my part.
As I said, it wasn’t me who would end up being the pushover—it was Haomun.
“What do you mean by that…”
Sogeom flinched.
A faint tremor ran through his pupils.
It seemed he hadn’t anticipated me acting this way at all.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“I mean exactly what I said. First, I’ll receive the information you’ve requested, and then we’ll talk.”
“That’s a bit…”
“If you don’t want to, we can pretend this never happened.”
I was being, as they say, deliberately unreasonable.
The one left frustrated wasn’t me anymore—it was them.
Just looking at Sogeom’s expression—his dissatisfaction evident, yet unspoken—I could tell who held the upper hand.
If this had been before seeing the Guihebo, there would’ve been a fuss about pretending nothing happened.
Even a clumsy display of martial skill could’ve changed the situation.
But none of that applied here. The conclusion was already clear—it was just a matter of time for them to accept it.
“Then…”
I could hear Sogeom thinking hard, turning over the matter in his head.
He hesitated until the very last moment, but as I said, it was only a matter of time.
“…I’ll assume we’ll discuss it again when I give you the information.”
In the end, my words were accepted.
Or rather, my obstinacy had been accepted.
At least, I thought that was fine.
‘They used Jincheon.’
And since Jincheon had used me to navigate the martial world, it was my turn to use them now.
“Then I’ll prepare and come see you in two days.”
It seemed Sogeom’s position within Haomun wasn’t that low.
Judging by how he said he’d come personally.
‘I thought at least someone like the branch chief of Hunan Province would come with the requested information.’
Well, perhaps he could bring someone along.
Sogeom returned to the boat as the helmsman and steered it.
Before long, the small boat reached the shore.
I didn’t forget to give a piece of advice—a warning—before parting.
“Just so you know, it’s better if you don’t harbor any other intentions.”
I had no intention of forgiving anyone who dared to stab me in the back.
I hoped one mistake would be the last.
On the way back to the Jinhwa Trading Company.
Even after warning Sogeom, I remained cautious.
Would he attach someone to watch me, or try a surprise attack?
Haomun had already split a goose in half before.
Trusting them completely would be foolish.
“In the end, nothing happened anyway.”
As I walked, Jinhwa Trading came into view.
Still, I didn’t relax completely.
Even if not now, I needed to continue observing how Haomun would move in the future.
“By the way, I unexpectedly got some free money.”
The voucher from Chief No was safely in my pocket.
I wasn’t sure if the expression applied, but there was an old saying: you’re free to take it in, but not out.
I had no intention of returning this money to Chief No.
Not unless it was absolutely necessary for Jinhwa Trading.
They weren’t exactly short of money, so it didn’t seem necessary.
“So I’ll keep this.”
If anyone asked, I could just say I spent it dealing with Haomun.
I chuckled, feeling more like a trickster with each passing day.
“So what if I become a little scammy?”
Having lived without taking what was rightfully mine, I decided I might as well be a bit greedy from now on.
And maybe I could take care of Dongchil too.
I imagined how happy Dongchil would be upon receiving this money, finally free from worrying about living expenses.
It was enough to justify a little trickery.
“Speak of the tiger, and it appears.”
Just as I arrived at the front gate of Jinhwa Trading.
Dongchil stepped outside right on cue.
He looked around, searching for someone.
But he wasn’t alone.
He was holding something in his arms.
“A white cat?”
At first, it seemed like that, but I quickly realized it was a mistake.
“A tiger cub?”
I had mentioned a tiger, and now a real tiger appeared.
And it resembled a tiger I knew.
I naturally quickened my pace.
“Dongchil.”
“Master!”
“The cub you’re holding… is it Baihu?”
I didn’t ask because I didn’t know the answer.
Though smaller, I recognized it immediately as Baihu.
‘The spiritual energy is weak. That’s why it’s so small.’
As I examined Baihu, Dongchil burst into tears.
“Master, Baihu… Baihu…”
Breathing heavily, drenched in sweat, Dongchil’s body shook.
Through the torn clothes, I could see wounds.
It seemed he had carried Baihu all the way from Changshengyuan to Jinhwa Trading, running nonstop.
“Hand Baihu over and go treat your own wounds first.”
“I’m fine. But Baihu… when we arrived at the company, he was conscious…”
Dongchil choked back more tears as he spoke.
Indeed, Baihu’s condition seemed dire.
His breaths were shallow and staggered—a clear sign of critical weakness.
‘The end has come.’
This was a situation I had anticipated from the first meeting.
But I didn’t tell Dongchil that just yet.
“From now on, leave everything to me. Don’t worry.”
“Master, will Baihu be okay?”
I nodded slightly to reassure him.
“Nothing major. Let’s go inside and examine him properly.”
We went straight to my quarters, not the apothecary.
‘Right now, even Jinmyeongshindo won’t help much.’
I considered the life-and-death needle, but shook my head.
This wasn’t a disease.
So even a life-and-death needle wouldn’t work.
Upon entering the room, I laid Baihu on a blanket.
In no time, he started coughing.
Although he was small like a cub, the cough sounded harsh and dry, like an elderly person’s.
Internally, his body was aging rapidly.
All of this was a sign of life nearing its end.
The faint spiritual energy was the first sign, and the number I saw was the second.
Yes.
Through my clairvoyance, I could see how much life Baihu had left.
By rough calculation, it was only a few shi-zhen.
Watching the dwindling time, I pondered.
‘Is it really right to save Baihu?’
To die naturally is normal.
Saving Baihu here might go against that natural order.
Whether I could save him would come after that consideration.
‘It’s ironic that I’m even thinking like this.’
I had once refused death myself.
So I was lenient on this matter.
I wasn’t trying to revive the dead.
I was simply prolonging the life of someone still alive. What’s wrong with that?
Still, another concern remained.
Why should I save Baihu?
‘I’ve grown a little attached after spending some time together.’
But attachment alone wasn’t enough to justify defying someone’s final moments.
If that were the standard, I’d have to interfere with everyone’s end whom I had a connection with.
Though reluctant, the principle respected by the righteous sects applied here.
To save Baihu, I needed at least that minimal justification.
Only then would I have an excuse, even if defying the heavens.
The problem was, I had no excuse for myself.
So I found it elsewhere.
“Dongchil.”
“Yes, Master.”
“It seems Baihu doesn’t have much life left. If this continues, he won’t make it through today.”
Dongchil coughed nervously, eyes filling with tears again.
“But returning to the earth is natural. It should happen, but… we were only just starting to get close…”
At that moment, Baihu’s eyes slowly opened.
He searched for Dongchil with his gaze.
There was no fear of the end, only deep regret.
Dongchil must have recognized that.
Finally, tears streamed down Dongchil’s face.
And those tears gave me a small justification.
“You wicked tiger, making my only servant cry.”
Dongchil and Baihu’s gazes turned to me.
They looked surprised and confused—I didn’t expect to say such a thing.
But I didn’t care.
“I will hold you accountable for that, so I won’t let you die just yet.”
I placed my hands on Baihu’s body.
“It will hurt. But don’t lose consciousness. Endure it. That’s your only way to survive.”
Simultaneously, I infused him with divine energy.
‘Can I save him?’
I had half-forced a reason to save him.
Now the question was whether I could.
‘Simply infusing divine energy won’t revive Baihu.’
It would have some effect, but only temporarily.
He might seem fine for now, but he would soon face the same life-or-death state again.
So I couldn’t just rely on divine energy alone.
‘I’ll have to imitate what the Grim Reaper did for me.’
The method that opened my spiritual eyes.
Could I try that on Baihu?
But from the start, it was difficult.
Reviving life was much more complex.
The difficulty was as vast as heaven and earth.
Even deciding where to begin was a challenge.
‘If he had a dantian, it would be much easier.’
Usually, spiritual beings have dantian.
Snakes, for instance.
But tigers, even as spiritual beings, don’t form dantian.
At first, I wondered why—but then realized this was the key to saving Baihu.
‘If there’s no dantian…’
I could just create one, right?
Specifically, if I created a dantian and captured the dispersed spiritual energy within it…
‘I can save him.’
The clue came from humans.
Specifically, martial artists.
‘Ordinary people can’t even accumulate the energy floating in their breath.’
Martial artists are different.
They accumulate energy in their bodies, manipulating it almost like divine power.
The reason they can is because they have dantian.
Yes. Dantian.
I would create a dantian in Baihu’s body.
‘Otherwise, he dies.’
So I didn’t consider possibilities.
There was no other way.
Fortunately, I had knowledge greater than anyone’s.
“From now on, don’t move or lose consciousness. If you do, I can’t undo this.”
Thanks to the infused divine energy, Baihu, who had been staring blankly at me, blinked—acknowledging.
As he closed his eyes, signaling readiness, I began the procedure.
‘Normally, my Qi techniques or mental methods won’t work.’
I had lived hundreds of years, mastering countless martial arts.
I knew innumerable Qi and mental techniques, including legendary secret techniques.
But right now, I had only one viable choice.
Among all secret techniques, only one could properly manipulate spiritual energy.
‘Zaha Divine Technique.’
I would imprint Zaha Divine Technique onto Baihu’s body.
And use it to form the dantian.
‘If the Huasan sect masters knew, they’d be furious.’
Zaha Divine Technique was the ultimate secret of Huasan.
Even outsiders couldn’t learn it, nor could ordinary disciples within Huasan.
Talent, character, aptitude—all strictly assessed.
And now, I was passing it to a non-human spiritual tiger?
Why not.
‘Even Jincheon received it, so why not?’
As a mutant who appeared from Huasan, anything was possible.
This was just another unusual occurrence.
‘A spiritual tiger mastering Zaha Divine Technique.’
Who would’ve imagined it?
Even the elders in Huasan would faint if they knew.
‘Thinking about that makes me want to do it even more.’
Now, Baihu would be my disciple… what rank would that make him?
I’d think about that later.
For now, the focus was saving Baihu.
Woong! Woong! Woong!
Divine energy infused with my will surged.
Zaha Divine Technique began to imprint on Baihu’s body.
