Chapter 19
Yakseon-dong Neungwoongshin (1)
Since the Age of the Divine Demon Grandmaster, Manma Jipgung had been split into ten factions called the Madō Ten Halls (Magical Ten Halls), and they were constantly fighting for power. And the successor was always chosen from among the direct disciples of the Madō Ten Halls.
So Manma Jipgung never had a peaceful day — not only did it have to deal with rival orthodox sects, it was also plagued by the internal intrigues among the heirs of the Ten Halls. Then, one day, an orphan boy with no name was brought into Manma Jipgung. An elder of Manma Jipgung, who had gone out into the martial world, recognized the boy’s peerless martial talent and personally took him in.
“I will go to the Ice Cave.”
The boy who had entered Manma Jipgung went into the Ice Cave (빙동) — a place where no one went — to train his martial arts. The Ice Cave, called the Magō (Demon Repository), contained the collected martial methods and great techniques of all the demonic schools. But it did not include the martial arts of the Ten Great Demonic Halls — the pinnacle of demonic martial knowledge — so no one entered the Magō willingly.
“Even if you master every technique in the Ice Cave, you cannot surpass the martial arts of the Ten Great Halls!”
The elder tried to stop the boy. With his talent, the boy could easily have become one of the Ten Halls’ direct disciples.
“I don’t want to be anyone’s disciple.”
The boy left those arrogant words behind and went into the Ice Cave alone. For more than ten years he shut himself away there, living on wall mushrooms and underground water.
“The greatest demonic genius of all time has been born!”
When the boy came out of the Ice Cave he had grown into a strong man. He had refined every martial art and great technique stored in the Ice Cave. Not only that, he single-handedly defeated, in a single day, even the successors of the Ten Great Halls — those said to possess the greatest demonic martial arts.
“Ohhh — Celestial Demon!”
All the demonic cultivators of Manma Jipgung called him the Celestial Demon (Cheonma), saying he had reached a realm comparable to the Divine Demon Grandmaster — indeed the greatest demonic genius ever — a demon ordained by heaven.
“Cheonma! What on earth happened?”
Inside Bokkuk Interior.
Cheonma — crouched in the storeroom cleaning a toolbox — turned his head at the thunderous scolding.
“It’s the shop owner. What is it?”
“What is it?”
Jang Chaewon handed the crouched Cheonma a sheet of loose wallpaper.
“You begged and begged to be given the wallpaper job! And now the wallpaper’s fallen off and it’s a disaster!”
“Oh, that job, huh.”
“You knew about it?”
“Of course. The store called last night.”
“What? Then why didn’t you tell me?”
When Jang Chaewon blinked, Cheonma shook his head firmly.
“It was a call from a customer who didn’t know any better.”
“What? What do you mean by that?”
Putting the drill back into the toolbox, Cheonma spoke matter-of-factly.
“I installed the wallpaper perfectly, with no defects. I even kindly told the customer that the wallpaper would dry in about three days.”
“Then why did they call saying the wallpaper all peeled off?”
“According to the customer, the existing wallpaper turned out to be silk wallpaper.”
A silence fell over the storeroom.
“You can’t paste over silk wallpaper with paper-backed wallpaper, right? You pasted right on top of it?”
As Jang stammered, Cheonma narrowed his eyes.
“Yes. But the customer didn’t tell me that. It seems to have been a simple mistake.”
Click.
Cheonma closed the toolbox lid, rose, and said:
“Don’t blame the customer. They didn’t know that paper-backed wallpaper won’t stick over silk wallpaper…”
But by then Jang Chaewon’s face had already bulged like the Hulk before ripping her clothes.
“You won’t blame the customer? You’re going to blame me?”
“Why blame me?”
Seeing Cheonma turn his head impudently, a vein popped on Jang Chaewon’s forehead like a worm.
“How would the customer know whether it was silk or paper-backed? You should have known!”
“I did know. I even suggested a groundbreaking installation method to the customer.”
“What?”
When Jang let go of his hand, Cheonma’s eyes gleamed.
“There is a method where, if you remove only the PVC-coated vinyl on top of silk wallpaper, you can install over it as if it were paper-backed wallpaper.”
He turned and spread a book about wallpaper installation in front of her.
“Besides, that project’s wall surface was uneven. If you remove the silk wallpaper and then apply paper-backed wallpaper, you’d lose the existing substrate (nonwoven backing). So I proposed this method to level the wall while using the paper-backed installation.”
Jang Chaewon was speechless.
Cheonma knew specialized installation knowledge even wallpaper technicians often don’t — he wasn’t just showing off the book.
“Ha. So it wasn’t just a showy book-opening.”
“Hahaha. I mastered 180,000 kinds of martial techniques and great methods in the Ice Cave. Digesting an interior-construction manual is nothing.”
“Then why did the wallpaper peel off?”
At Jang’s question, Cheonma’s confident face suddenly darkened.
“There exists a gap in all phenomena of this world — no, of this universe.”
“What?”
“Just because you know something doesn’t mean you can do it well. Throughout history knowledge and practice have always been apart. If you scrutinize the structure of experience, you ultimately find a discrepancy between one’s ideological preferences and one’s nature…”
Frozen like a plaster statue and rattling off a long-winded bit of nonsense, Cheonma made Jang sigh.
“So you ruined the job, in short.”
“Call it the difference between knowing and doing.”
“What is that supposed to mean? With that face made for manual labor, you’re worse with your hands than I am.”
Cheonma, who looked like he’d be naturally gifted at physical work, turned out to be a bookworm and hopeless at interior construction.
“You have to go redo it immediately. Grab your tools!”
“All right.”
At Jang’s shout, Cheonma silently took out wallpaper and a wallpaper cutter from the storeroom.
“Ahh, I’m tired.”
By now it was past noon. After a morning spent working on wallpaper with Cheonma, Jang rubbed her stiff shoulders and checked the time.
“It’s already lunchtime. Want jjajangmyeon again?”
Cheonma, tidying wallpaper, nodded.
“Is there a better meal than jjajangmyeon?”
“How about a pork stir-fry set for a change? Try something different.”
“Simple noodles are best for lunch. Things like meat are better in the evening.”
Faced with Cheonma’s firm answer, Jang resignedly pulled out her phone. Then—
Tring, tring.
The antique phone on the desk rang. Staring at it, Jang cleared her throat and picked up the tubular receiver.
“Hello, Bokkuk Interior. Ah, yes. Hello?”
Her expression shifted while she held the mouthpiece.
“Yes?”
A few days later. On a sunny summer day when a pleasant breeze was starting to blow.
Vroom.
Jang Chaewon’s van sped down the highway. Cheonma sat crouched beside her, wearing a grey work robe, while she drove in sunglasses.
“Gom-ira.”
Cheonma, watching the passing cars from the passenger seat, muttered softly.
“Does a bear even run a restaurant?”
“Watch your mouth. Say that in front of Neungwoongshin and you’ll be kicked out on the spot.”
Jang, driving with an annoyed expression, glared at Cheonma.
“Anyway, how did he recommend you? That black bear man — did he at least clean something? How did he introduce Neungwoongshin’s job? And he specifically named you, Cheonma.”
The phone call they’d received earlier had been from the black bear man living below the vampire man’s apartment — he had introduced the job out of trust.
“He said he was moved by how polite and clean your work was… but does that make sense? All you did was strip the wallpaper and unclog the upstairs plumbing, right?”
“Oh, that.”
Cheonma spoke as if it were nothing.
“The bear said the upstairs vampire never once came down to apologize. So I taught him the ways of the martial world and left.”
“The ways of the martial world?”
“Yes. If you caused harm, you must provide corresponding compensation and a sincere apology, and promise prevention of recurrence. Isn’t that the principle?”
“We got compensation — the landlord paid.”
Folding his arms, Cheonma’s eyes deepened as if remembering the scene.
“Compensation is obvious. But the downstairs bear had a family and couldn’t even complain properly; he’d endured quietly because they promised compensation.”
“And?”
“I insisted that the vampire offer the proper compensation and a sincere apology to the bear and his family. Also, I ordered him to clean the bloodstained areas himself.”
Jang’s eyes widened.
“That’s humiliating, but he’s a vampire… you disgraced him like that?”
“Humiliation? Why is making him clean humiliating?”
“He’s a high-ranking youkai. And his partner is extremely proud.”
Cheonma made an almost surprised expression.
“High or low rank doesn’t matter. If you’re wrong, you must make amends. Isn’t that the law of the martial world?”
Narrowing his eyes as if recalling a faint past, Cheonma continued.
“I, too, when I fought that damned Jeongga fellow and destroyed the Muwon Jeongjong — the martial sanctuary — I made a deep apology and paid huge reparations. Even I, called the greatest of all ages, did so.”
“O-okay. I see.”
Jang sighed in pity, picturing the vampire, forced by Cheonma to apologize and scrub the floor with a rag.
Jang and Cheonma had arrived at Jirisan.
She shouldered her bag and walked through the forest with Cheonma at her side. Cheonma watched in wonder as she walked briskly in hiking clothes; she strode up steep mountain paths as if they were flat ground.
“Hmm.”
But as she walked, Jang glanced at the towering forest.
“Walking up a mountain trail is kind of a hassle.”
Muttering that, she watched Cheonma.
“How did you used to climb before?”
“Of course with spirit beasts…”
Jang’s eyes lit up as she looked at Cheonma. Ahead of them, instead of a spirit beast, there was a much sturdier, broader “mount” right beside them.
ahem.
Clearing her throat, Jang pointed at Cheonma’s shoulder.
“Mind giving me a piggyback?”
“I refuse.”
“What, why? Worried I’m heavy? I’m not that heavy.”
Cheonma shook his head decisively.
“No one may mount my body.”
“What do you mean? Why?”
Raising one finger to the sky, Cheonma said in a majestic voice:
“That is the martial code I set.”
Turning on his heel, Cheonma strode ahead.
“Hey— you’re really just leaving me?”
Watching his back, Jang licked her lips.
“What a cold-hearted guy.”
Of course she could have sped things up using force, but she didn’t want to — and besides, she wanted to ride up on those broad, sturdy shoulders.
“All right. For ten days I get jjamjjam noodles and sweet-and-sour pork for lunch!”
For a beat, Cheonma’s steps slowed by half a beat.
Catching that instant, Jang tightened her stomach and shouted:
“And the tile skills I wanted to learn last time, too!”
“…It’s a rule I set, so I can change it anytime.”
Cheonma backed up and crouched before Jang like a loyal dog.
Cheonma walked briskly with Jang perched on his shoulder. Riding on his muscular shoulder, Jang felt like she was on a fun amusement ride.
“Ahh. I should have done this sooner.”
Enjoying the mountain view and the scent of the grass, she glanced at Cheonma’s rock-like profile and chuckled.
“Are you always like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“You act so cold.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I thought you were a truly grim guy at first. But now I think you’re just someone who can’t be honest.”
Stopping in his tracks, Cheonma blinked and Jang grinned.
“Remember when you helped that Imugi boy’s mother?”
“Helped?”
“Aren’t you embarrassed to act coy? I saw it all — you cured the Imugi youth’s mother and even gave them relics of the X Chimera that help blood circulation.”
“That’s only natural.”
“Right?”
So he was warm on the inside after all.
Jang’s pleased smile vanished at Cheonma’s next words.
“You need to stabilize the body a bit before you can extract the inner elixir later, don’t you?”
“What? Extract what?”
“You didn’t know? An Imugi’s inner elixir is a very good medicinal potion.”
Jang’s expression shook like she’d met a horror-movie villain.
“Don’t joke.”
Forcing a smile, she asked in a trembling voice.
“You healed them, right?”
“Of course. I injected my Ban Geukjin (half-extreme elixir) to unblock the qi and blood.”
As they walked, Cheonma spoke confidently.
“Judging by the number of wrinkles around the eyes, he’s soon to generate an inner elixir. With my Ban Geukjin inside him, finding where it’s hidden will be as easy as pie…”
Thwack.
A punch from Jang hit the back of his head so hard Cheonma’s neck snapped ninety degrees.
“What on earth was that for?”
“Is that even something to say? Extract? Extract what?”
Jang, having stepped down from his shoulder, shouted as if she couldn’t believe him.
“You weren’t planning to track down that Imugi grandma later and kill her to take it, were you?”
