Chapter 22
The Heavenly Demon and the Puppy
Jang Chaewon’s van came to a stop at an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city.
The air around the ruin felt heavy and dark, as though sunlight itself avoided the place.
“How peculiar.”
The Heavenly Demon frowned as he stepped out of the van.
Something about the place felt unsettling—yet strangely familiar.
“So, we’re demolishing that building?”
Chaewon shook her head.
“No. What needs to be torn down is inside.”
“I see. But…”
The Heavenly Demon glanced at Mumyeong—the nameless one—clinging to his shoulder.
“Didn’t you say I couldn’t bring this creature into places of divine trust?”
“Ah, this time it’s fine. I got permission. Besides, I can’t stay with you the whole time.”
“Can’t stay?”
“[This request can’t be finished in one day,]” Mumyeong said. “[So I’ll be assisting with your daily travel instead.]”
Chaewon smiled.
“The shop isn’t far from here. You can just commute with the nanobot from tomorrow.”
“Are you from Bokbok Interior?”
An elderly man with a gentle face and a hunched back came walking out of the ruin.
“You arrived early.”
“Nice to meet you, Lord Silver Wolf.”
The old man—Silver Wolf Shin—had eyebrows white as snow, skin like cracked bark, and eyes clear as morning dew. A faint divine aura surrounded him, giving him the appearance of a sage.
The Heavenly Demon bowed respectfully.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
“Ah, I’ve heard much about you—from far away, no less.”
Silver Wolf smiled softly.
“But this job will require considerable strength. I wonder if you’ll manage.”
“Strength is my specialty.”
When the Heavenly Demon flexed his thick arm, Silver Wolf burst into hearty laughter.
“Good! Then you might finish within three days.”
“A day will suffice, sir.”
“It won’t be easy. Even a sturdy spirit beast would take ten… no, fifteen days to clear this.”
Silver Wolf gestured kindly toward the building’s entrance.
“Come inside first.”
Inside the ruin was, shockingly, a beautiful garden.
Countless unknown flowers bloomed, and at the far end stood a huge, rainbow-colored gate.
Silver Wolf pointed toward it.
“Tear down the walls blocking this path.”
As the Heavenly Demon and Chaewon approached, the gate opened on its own.
Beyond it stretched a long, corridor-like passage. The ceiling and walls shimmered mysteriously, and fragrant flowers covered the floor.
“Hmm?”
All along the path, faint, almost invisible barriers stood like glass.
“We’re to demolish those transparent things blocking the path?”
“That’s right.”
“Then this won’t take half a day.”
As he gathered his internal energy, heat rose from the ground, and immense power swelled in his core.
‘What—one gapja of divine energy?’
The Heavenly Demon had cultivated about fifteen years’ worth of internal strength, yet now, divine power nearly equal to a full gapja surged from the earth itself.
‘This god is formidable.’
Never before had he felt such potent energy.
His crimson eyes flashed as he gathered pure internal power—not demonic energy—and thrust both palms forward.
“Fist Demon’s Seventh Form: Ascending Dragon!”
Crash!
A dull boom shook the air, but the barrier only cracked faintly.
“Impossible…”
“Tough, isn’t it? It’s hard as stone,” said Silver Wolf with a chuckle.
The Heavenly Demon grinned fiercely.
“Excellent.”
“Fist Demon’s Seventh Form—Thunderblade Annihilation!”
BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions echoed as the transparent wall finally shattered.
The Heavenly Demon smirked in satisfaction—but then his brows twitched.
There weren’t just one or two barriers—there were thousands.
“Each layer—thousands at least,” Silver Wolf remarked wryly.
Chaewon bowed to the old god.
“I’ll head back to the store, sir.”
“Alright.”
She smiled at the Heavenly Demon.
“Good luck, then. I’ll check in later.”
As she left, she cast one last glance at Mumyeong perched on his shoulder.
Two days later.
The Heavenly Demon was still smashing barrier after barrier alongside Mumyeong.
Even with his immense energy, the walls were unbelievably tough—each required dozens of full-powered strikes to break.
“Take your time,” Silver Wolf said gently, trimming the flowers on the corridor floor.
“They’ll only come back anyway…”
The last part was so quiet the Heavenly Demon didn’t hear.
Boom!
“Haa…”
He exhaled, breaking another wall—nearly two-thirds of the corridor was clear now.
“[Heavenly Demon, you don’t need to push yourself.]”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Sweat covered his brow, but his expression was bright. For the first time since entering this world, he was using pure martial energy instead of demonic power.
‘So this is the true might of a full gapja of inner strength…’
Still, a third of the barriers remained.
“Sir, what are these walls made of, that they’re so tough?”
Silver Wolf stood slowly, gazing at the faintly glowing wall ahead.
“Hmm. Do you really wish to know?”
“Naturally.”
The old god sighed.
“Regret.”
“Regret?”
“Yes. The kind born from not being able to forget.”
“I don’t follow.”
With a deep breath, Silver Wolf opened a side door.
From the darkness beyond, pairs of eyes began to glow—then shapes emerged one by one.
“Those are…”
The Heavenly Demon’s eyes widened.
“Dogs,” Silver Wolf said softly. “Common enough, even in your world.”
Dozens—hundreds—of spectral dogs padded out of the shadows.
“This corridor shows happy memories from life. Each step forward plays what they cherished most.”
As he spoke, light projected scenes of warmth and joy along the walls and ceiling—dogs playing with their owners, tails wagging in bliss.
“Is this… the Netherworld?”
“You could call it that.”
At last, the Heavenly Demon understood the eerie aura he’d felt from the ruin.
‘This corridor is… the bridge between life and death.’
“So you’re… the Ferryman of Souls?”
“Ha! No, no. I merely guide poor creatures gently to the afterlife.”
“Then why the walls?”
Silver Wolf’s eyes gleamed.
“Those who were never loved are easier to send off. You give them one pleasant memory, and they go peacefully.”
“But those who were loved, even briefly—they refuse to leave. They cling to the humans who showed them kindness.”
‘So that’s what this god does… guiding the spirits of dogs.’
Silver Wolf was the divine spirit of wolves—guiding the souls of dogs that had died in pain.
“I ease the journey for the unloved ones,” he murmured.
Woof?
A small gray puppy bounded toward the Heavenly Demon—it was the same one that had often appeared at his shop.
“You…”
Woof! Woof!
The puppy wagged its tail brightly.
“You know that one?” asked Silver Wolf.
The Heavenly Demon shook his head.
“Just a stray I’d seen around.”
The puppy’s fur was matted with dried blood, and its bones showed through—but it rubbed happily against his leg, feeling no pain.
“What happened to it?”
“Run over by a car,” Silver Wolf sighed. “The most common death in this age.”
The Heavenly Demon’s eyes darkened. The puppy whimpered softly, and a new transparent wall appeared—bearing the faint outline of his own shadow.
“So… its regret was you.”
The Heavenly Demon touched the wall—and memories flooded his mind.
He remembered the first meeting:
He’d kicked a small puppy out of his path to avoid bird droppings—only to be struck by a truck himself.
Later, he’d left food scraps in front of his store—black bean noodles, cold and greasy. The puppy had eaten them, delighted just to share something the Heavenly Demon had touched.
When he caught it eating, he’d shouted in anger, thinking it’d framed him somehow. The puppy had only wanted to be near him—to feel his touch.
Whenever he kicked it away, it returned, sensing the loneliness and sorrow he kept buried. Dogs could always tell.
And one rainy day, it had run toward the shop again—only to be struck by a car at the same intersection where he once saved it.
With its broken body, it crawled, inch by inch, just to see him one last time.
A cleaner found it before it reached the door.
“Did you see?” Silver Wolf asked gently.
“I did.”
“And?”
“Foolish memories. Pointless, blind attachment.”
“Perhaps. Yet those walls you’ve been breaking—those are made from the regrets of the loved ones who couldn’t move on.”
The puppy pressed against the Heavenly Demon again, and another wall appeared.
“Another one…”
“Yes. As long as its master is before it, regret will keep forming.”
Silver Wolf sighed, then placed a hand on the Heavenly Demon’s.
“Then we must show it your true heart.”
He softly stroked the puppy’s head—and new visions filled the Heavenly Demon’s eyes.
He was building something—hammer in hand, crafting a small wooden house.
“This shop welcomes many. I can’t keep you inside.”
“So I’m building you the Ten-Thousand-Beast Pavilion. A house fit for a companion of mine.”
He looked at the puppy and slowly reached out, feeling the warmth of its fur.
“But I was too late.”
“Next life—come find me again. I’ll have your home ready by then.”
Light burst from the puppy’s eyes, and all remaining walls shattered.
Woof! Woof!
The little dog barked proudly, as if to show off its work, before rubbing against his leg one last time.
Then it trotted toward the shining gate, tail wagging.
See you next life.
And it was gone.
When the Heavenly Demon came to, the dog and the walls were gone.
Only emptiness remained—except for a strange warmth in his chest.
“I merely showed your hidden heart,” said Silver Wolf.
“Hidden heart? You forged those memories, didn’t you?”
“Perhaps.” Silver Wolf smiled faintly. “But neither I nor you broke those walls. It did.”
The Heavenly Demon stared at the empty corridor, realization dawning.
“Heh. That small creature… broke the wall of regret that even gods couldn’t.”
“Saving it was a fateful act,” murmured Silver Wolf.
“I didn’t save it.”
“Intentional or not, you changed its fate once. Small acts can save small lives.”
“I long ago abandoned life and death—even for myself.”
“Strange. I saw quite a few lives you saved in your memories.”
The Heavenly Demon’s fists clenched.
“They were useful pieces. Nothing more.”
“Say what you will. That pup wanted to give you something it never received itself.”
“What are you implying?”
“Unconditional love.”
The Heavenly Demon fell silent.
“You’ve done well,” said Silver Wolf, turning back toward the garden.
“Your payment will be sent as promised.”
“…Then I’ll take my leave.”
As the Heavenly Demon turned to go, Silver Wolf added quietly:
“One thing to remember—children, and puppies, reincarnate quickly.”
A few days later.
When Jang Chaewon arrived at the shop, she noticed something new outside the glass door.
“Huh? When did this get here?”
In the corner sat a small wooden house. The Heavenly Demon was sanding its rough edges.
“Practicing carpentry?”
She leaned closer. The little curved-roof house looked clumsy, almost childlike—but somehow warm.
“It’s rough… but feels kind of cozy.”
Then she gasped.
“Wait, is this… a doghouse?”
The Heavenly Demon said nothing, continuing to sand.
“But that dog hasn’t come by in ages.”
He paused.
“It’s not a doghouse.”
“Then what is it?”
“A remnant of my regret.”
His gaze lifted to the distant sky—
and for the first time, faint light shimmered in his eyes.
