Chapter 37
The Heavenly Demon and the Demon Mask
The eastern sky was beginning to brighten with dawn.
“Ugh…”
As the sun rose, a groan echoed through the Heavenly Demon’s attic apartment.
The time just before dawn is the most hated moment for heavy drinkers. The sunlight that brings life to all living things only grants headaches to those suffering from hangovers.
“W-Water…”
Holding her temples, Jang Chaewon barely cracked her swollen eyes open and mumbled toward the Heavenly Demon.
“Give me some water.”
— Kkyuuu…
Next to her, the sparrow that had been dozing off looked at the Heavenly Demon with a pitiful expression.
It, too, had followed them to the drinking party last night and downed more than a dozen bottles of soju.
“……”
The Heavenly Demon had seen countless drunkards before, but no one had ever demanded water from him.
Still, he couldn’t just ignore his employer, Jang Chaewon.
After a brief inner conflict, he kicked the water jug at his feet.
“Here.”
“Mm.”
Jang Chaewon took the rolling water bottle and drank deeply. At that moment, groaning came from the bathroom.
“Ugh…”
When the Heavenly Demon opened the door, Kim Chan-won was leaning over the toilet, moaning.
“You awake?”
Upon seeing him, Kim Chan-won grinned—bits of vomit still clinging to his lips.
Feeling his stomach turn, the Heavenly Demon slammed the door shut again.
“What the hell is this…”
Even for him, a holiday was precious.
He’d planned to spend the morning calmly meditating and then enjoy reading and TV. But seeing the two of them writhing like zombies filled him with irritation.
“Get up already and go home.”
“What’re you sayin’? Gotta cure the hangover first!”
Staggering out of the bathroom, Kim Chan-won walked toward the kitchen.
“Good thing I bought some perilla seed hangover soup from Grandma’s Bone Broth House yesterday. That place makes the best hangover soup in town.”
He opened the refrigerator like it was his own home and pulled out a white takeout container.
“Perilla hangover soup?”
Jang Chaewon, who had been lying on the floor, suddenly shot up with alarm.
“Don’t eat that!”
“Why not?”
“If you eat perilla hangover soup, your hangover will be gone! (‘sul-i deul–kkae’—‘hangover will awaken’)”
The room froze.
Before the Heavenly Demon could speak—
“Hahahahahaha!”
Kim Chan-won burst into loud laughter, showing off his yellow teeth.
“If you eat perilla hangover soup, your hangover will awaken! Hahaha!”
“Funny, right? It’s funny, right?”
The two pointed at each other and laughed uproariously, showing no sign of leaving.
Feeling an unfamiliar headache rising, the Heavenly Demon turned and stepped outside.
[Heavenly Demon-nim, you are awake?]
On the rooftop, Nameless, who had been lying flat on the wooden platform, sat up when he saw him.
“Why are you lying out here?”
[Too noisy inside.]
The unexpected answer left the Heavenly Demon speechless.
This world, he reminded himself, defied every bit of his common sense.
He looked up blankly at Nameless, who was sprawled out like a charging station, and sighed.
“Fine. Sleep.”
Avoiding the spot, the Heavenly Demon sat cross-legged and began focusing his energy.
He circulated his Qi once through his entire body—heat surged through his veins.
Currently, his internal energy level was at half a gapja—a level that would take an ordinary martial artist thirty years to reach.
“Still far from ten gapja.”
Ten gapja—the theoretical limit of human cultivation, the stage where internal energy becomes infinite.
What would take six centuries of nonstop training, the Heavenly Demon had achieved in just twenty years.
In truth, his real level surpassed even that—over a thousand years’ worth—but since there was no word beyond ten gapja, he simply called it that.
“Do I really have to go back…”
He suddenly wondered.
Did he truly need to return to the martial world? Would it even matter?
Here or there, life wasn’t much different.
In fact, this strange modern world—where nothing went as planned—had freed him from the boredom that had long clung to his soul.
He had books and knowledge he could never find in Murim. There were still so many things left to experience.
“But still…”
His eyes gleamed red as he looked toward the distant sky.
“I must return.”
A terrifying aura radiated from him.
The one who sent him here—the conspirator—had not only severed his meridians and erased a portion of his memories but had cast him into another world entirely.
By now, Murim and his Demonic Sect were likely in chaos under that person’s control.
“Human potential truly has no limit.”
He smirked, recalling the shadowy figure.
“To think someone could rival even me, the greatest in all ages, even if only in certain arts…”
A faint smile crept across his face.
To have a worthy opponent—someone to fight again—rekindled the fire that had long gone cold in his heart.
At that moment—
Clack.
The door opened, and Jang Chaewon peeked in.
“Soup’s ready!”
On the small table sat a pot of boiling perilla hangover soup.
“Eat up.”
Jang Chaewon ladled a generous serving of meat and vegetables into a bowl for him.
While she and Kim Chan-won slurped loudly, the Heavenly Demon simply stared at the steaming bowl.
“Been a while since I drank this much,” Kim Chan-won said, gulping the broth straight from the bowl.
“Next time I drink with you, I’ll have to brace myself, Mr. Cheon.”
“Tell me about it,” Jang Chaewon agreed.
“Oh, right, Mr. Cheon—here, take this.”
Kim Chan-won handed him a transparent card.
“What’s this?”
“A gift card. You can use it instead of money at big stores or movie theaters.”
He grinned sheepishly.
“Housewarming gift. Buy something you need—or use it to have some fun.”
“Unnecessary—”
Before the Heavenly Demon could refuse, a voice cut in.
[Thank you very much.]
Nameless darted in from outside, snatched the card, and held it up triumphantly.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the Heavenly Demon asked sternly.
Scratching his head, Nameless pointed toward his bowl-shaped charging station.
[It’s uncomfortable. There’s a new bed-shaped model I’d like to buy.]
Hugging the card to his chest, he added eagerly,
[Since I live with you, can’t I accept a housewarming gift too?]
“…Do as you wish.”
[Thank you!]
As he said that, Jang Chaewon looked at the Heavenly Demon with shining eyes.
“Oh, right! What’re you gonna do after lunch?”
“I’ll be driving out the intruders who disturbed the peace of my dwelling.”
“So… nothing special then?” she said with a grin.
“Good. Then let’s go buy you a phone.”
“A phone?”
She pulled an old, clunky model from her pocket and laughed.
“You don’t have one, right? You can’t take your nanobots when you’re on-site, so you’ll need a regular phone.”
“Hm.”
He thought for a moment, arms crossed.
“Not necessary.”
“Why? I’ll buy it for you.”
“Too troublesome. Another time.”
“What? That was supposed to be your housewarming gift! Then is there anything you need?”
“Nothing.”
Just as he shook his head, his gaze landed on the pile of empty liquor bottles under the sink.
A thought struck him.
“…Actually, one thing.”
Two hours later.
The Heavenly Demon, wearing his sleeveless Mad Demon Battle Robe, walked down the busy streets beside Jang Chaewon, who wore jeans and a red long-sleeved top.
Kim Chan-won had gone home, leaving Nameless and the sparrow behind in the attic.
They had gone shopping for the “one thing” he said he needed.
Passersby froze or stepped aside at the sight of the towering man with glowing red eyes.
“Can’t you at least dress properly?” Jang Chaewon sighed.
“What do you mean?”
“That mountain bandit outfit of yours. I bought you plenty of clothes—why do you always wear that one? Showing off your muscles?”
He shook his head gravely.
“This Mad Demon Battle Robe is fireproof, bladeproof—”
“I don’t care how good it is; you still have to wash it! You wear it every day!”
“No washing needed.”
“What?”
He gestured proudly at his robe.
“It expels impurities and suppresses harmful substances by itself.”
“…So you don’t wash it.”
“You’re not listening. It suppresses harmful—”
By the time he finished explaining its magical properties, they had arrived at an antique shop tucked away in a back alley.
“Still full of treasures,” Jang Chaewon said, looking around.
The chandeliers glittered warmly, and shelves were piled high with mysterious artifacts, like a vault of fairy-tale treasure.
Ding—
A bell chimed as they entered.
“Welcome.”
An old shopkeeper polishing an item looked up and smiled brightly.
“Oh, Ms. Jang! It’s been a while.”
“It has, sir. How have you been?”
“Quite well. And this gentleman is…?”
As the old man’s gaze fell on him, the Heavenly Demon’s eyes flared red, his face solemn.
“I am—”
“Don’t start. Just pick something already,” Jang Chaewon cut in.
He looked around. “Anything will do?”
She grinned. “Sure, pick whatever you like.”
Everything in the shop exuded mystery. Even the Heavenly Demon examined them with uncharacteristic seriousness.
“Oh?”
Jang Chaewon noticed a wooden box on an ornate table, faint energy rising from it.
She opened it carefully—inside lay two ruby-red wine cups resting on blue silk.
“These are made of Spirit Stones!?”
Spirit Stones contained demonic energy—rejuvenating for demons, clarifying for humans.
“I’ll take this,” she said.
“Oh, that?” The shopkeeper smiled warmly. “Please, take it.”
“How much?”
“No need to pay. You’ve spent plenty here before.”
Years ago, when his shop was failing, Jang Chaewon had bought out his remaining stock for a fortune, letting him rebuild.
“These are my thanks,” he said.
“They’re not worthless,” she insisted. “Your items are rare and valuable. I’ve always bought them cheap.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been doing this forty years. I know what they’re worth.”
She sighed. “You just don’t realize their real value. In our field, they’re priceless.”
“Our field?” he asked.
Before she could answer, the Heavenly Demon strode up, holding something.
“I’ll take this one.”
She blinked.
He was holding a massive demon mask—sharp horns, blood-red skin, jagged teeth.
“Are you insane? You’re going to wear that?”
He had wanted something to hide his face—a mask. He remembered the young woman from the lab who’d watched him when he smashed the ice golem.
“Perfect, isn’t it? To conceal my appearance in dungeons.”
Jang Chaewon sighed deeply.
Even with a mask, that massive, muscular body would hardly go unnoticed.
“Forget it. It’s too hideous. Pick another.”
But like a child who’d found his favorite toy, he refused to let go.
“I like this one.”
“You can have it,” the shopkeeper said kindly. “Take it.”
“What? No, it’s fine,” Jang Chaewon protested.
“It’s too grotesque to sell anyway,” the old man laughed.
“Then I’ll pay for it,” she insisted.
“No need—it’s just carved wood. Please, take it.”
The Heavenly Demon smiled brightly.
“Such generosity! Should you ever find yourself in danger, call upon me.”
“Uh… sure,” the old man said, bewildered.
Vroooom.
A white van sped out of the parking lot.
In the passenger seat, Jang Chaewon glanced at the Heavenly Demon stroking the mask and chuckled.
“You really like that thing?”
“Of course. It symbolizes my majesty.”
He put it on.
Boom.
A wave of crimson aura burst forth—like a demon king from hell grinning menacingly.
SCREECH—!
Jang Chaewon slammed the brakes instinctively.
Even she—who had seen gods and monsters—was shaken by the vile aura that filled the car.
“C-Cheonma…” she stammered, wiping sweat from her brow.
“Do you have to wear that?”
“Why ask the obvious?”
“Then promise me—don’t ever wear it outside,” she said sternly. “Only in dungeons. Got it?”
“Hmm…”
He looked reluctant but finally nodded.
“Understood.”
He tucked the mask into his chest, his hand brushing it gently—
as if he already sensed that, in the crises to come, it would become his most powerful charm.
