Chapter 821: Let’s Commit Slaughter (1)

Sometimes, there’s a morning like this.

You wake up naturally, open your eyes, and the morning feels strangely fresh.

The sleepiness fades on its own, vitality floods your body, and you rise from bed with a clear mind—without even regretting getting up. A pleasant start to the day.

Today, that was the morning of Jeong Family Manor’s lord, Jeong Ryujang.

In truth, waking up this clean and crisp isn’t some luck that drops by once in a blue moon.

It’s just the physical energy supplied by anticipation for a new day—the mind that wants to hurry up and greet it.

It’s also the reason Qing’s hometown people—modern people—don’t want to get up in the morning.

So Jeong Ryujang’s morning was refreshing.

First of all, because Jeong Ryujang didn’t really have any work to do—he just had to show his face as the lord of Jeong Family Manor—and the Blood Cult’s grand plan was cruising along like a boat with a tailwind in its sails.

And more than anything...

Hadn’t the Poison Demon sent word that preparations to receive that insolent bitch were complete?

Especially since the merciful Poison Demon had even said he’d bring her right in front of him if that was what he wanted—even if she was drenched in poison.

A true man never forgets a grudge. Every moment was thrilling when he imagined how he’d punish that bitch.

Yeah. If that bitch gets dragged in, what should I do to her?

To break that arrogant nose and make her beg to live... I’ll keep her in a livestock shed overflowing with animal shit and torture her, and then—yeah—at the end, I’ll tell her I’ll spare her if she kills her own friend and neatly strips the flesh off and eats it.

And after that, I’ll start carving the flesh off for real, and slowly savor the expression on her face as it dyes itself in despair and guilt......

It was while Jeong Ryujang was grinning to himself, polishing this and that torture plan—

“Young Master, it’s a disaster!”

CLATTER! BANG!!

The door flew open so hard it looked like it would break—no, it opened too hard—slipping out of its frame and starting to topple.

At the sight of the servant who’d burst in like he’d smashed the door down, Jeong Ryujang frowned and was about to speak, when—

“Right now, the whole sky is black because of smoke! There’s a fire—there’s a huge fire, I think!”

“A fire!? What do you mean, a fire? A wildfire? Where—where is it, don’t tell me it’s Mount Nocheom?”

Mount Nocheom was the mountain to the east behind Jeong Family Manor.

It was also where the coal mine was.

“I think... it is Mount Noche—”

“Why the hell is there a fire all of a sudden! No, I need to see it with my own eyes.”

Jeong Ryujang sprinted outside.

He didn’t even need to lift his head.

Already, half the sky was covered in pitch-black smoke.

From the eastern sky, a black pillar with a choking texture billowed its rough surface in swelling clouds as it speared upward, climbing toward the heavens.

Jeong Ryujang went slack-jawed at the majestic sight.

But only for a moment—then he shrieked:

“The mine! What happened to the mine!?”

“I-I don’t know! The smoke’s so thick we can’t see the flames yet, so—”

“What, you bastard!? Are you planning to just stand there watching until the whole mountain burns down!? Mobilize every person we can use! Block the entrance and smash every lodging hut—don’t let the fire spread into the mine, do you hear me!?”

“Y-yes, sir!”

The subordinate hurried away.

Jeong Ryujang chewed his lip like he couldn’t stand it.

Of all times... now...!

They hadn’t even gotten the first harvest of corpse poison yet.

If fire spread into the tunnels, they’d collapse in no time—which meant all the corpse poison they’d carefully matured would be buried alive.

With the cult’s grand plan right in front of them, of all times... now...!

And yet, Jeong Ryujang never once considered the possibility that the mine itself had caught fire.

Because not just him—no one in Jeong Family Manor believed a fire could start in the mine.

They’d been developing the coal mine as a Blood Cult venture, but after discovering a blessed natural cavern—so perfect it seemed as if it had been made for corpse-poison manufacturing—they had halted coal extraction entirely.

It had been the Poison Demon’s order, out of concern that a fire might break out in the mine.

And since no one was going in and out of the mine, there was no way a fire could start there—so wasn’t it simply a wildfire?

Soon enough, DING-DING bells rang, and shrill whistles shrieked here and there.

Blood Cult reserve fighters brushed past Jeong Ryujang as they sprinted out, and before long, a quiet began to pool over the manor, emptied of people.

Jeong Ryujang was left alone in the middle of the estate, anxiously biting at his nails.

That was when a woman’s voice—gentle, soft, and sweet beyond belief—called to him.

“Young Master. I’ll tell the kitchen to clear away your breakfast.”

“Huh—w-what—what are you saying?”

“You’ve eaten your nails like that, so wouldn’t you already be full? Here. Instead, I prepared something for you to drink.”

A woman with neatly combed-back hair held out a dipper, smiling kindly.

“What is that—no. I don’t need it! Who asked for water?”

“Aren’t you thirsty? Your fingernails are black underneath, and you gnawed through them all—ugh. Still, you ate something salty, so I thought you’d be thirsty.”

Her manner was gentle and considerate, but every single word scraped at a person’s insides.

Maybe that was why Jeong Ryujang’s eyes, as he stared at her, were packed with nothing but thick contempt.

“Oh dear. Your arm must be getting tired. You won’t drink it?”

“There’s nothing for you to do, so get the hell out of my sight.”

“Huh? Ah! I see. Congratulations.”

“What? Congratulations my—”

“Yes? Of course I should congratulate you. Today is the day you achieved the legendary realm—Myriad-Poison Immunity.”

“You—what kind of bullshit are you trying to—”

“That’s strange. There’s a wildfire, isn’t there?”

“What do you mean, why are you bringing up the wildfire again?”

“There’s a wildfire, and the mine is in danger... but you didn’t, of course, tell anyone to report it to the Poison Demon.”

A wildfire broke out, so the corpse-poison manufacturing site is in danger.

So of course you should report it to the Poison Demon.

But you aren’t even trying to report it, which means you’re not afraid of the Poison Demon anymore.

And if you’re not afraid of the Poison Demon... then you’d have to have achieved something like Myriad-Poison Immunity.

“Of course, the Poison Demon’s poison is scary, but maybe you wouldn’t need to go all the way to Myriad-Poison Immunity. Still, wouldn’t you need at least Thousand-Poison Immunity to dare to dig your heels in? Hmm... but it’s the Poison Demon’s poison, so a thousand might be a bit lacking. Then you must have achieved, what, Five-Thousand-Poison Immunity?”

Jeong Ryujang flinched.

“Ahem. I only meant that I was going to report after I accurately grasped the situation.”

After answering like that, Jeong Ryujang—like his throat was burning—snatched the dipper from the woman and gulped its contents down in huge swallows.

And then—

SPIT!!

He sprayed it out violently.

“COUGH—KHK—KRAAAAGH—KHHK. K-KRAAAAGH—y-you—what the hell did you—GHHK—make me drink—KHHK.”

“You always smell from the mouth, Young Master. I just mixed in a little vinegar.”

“COUGH—KHK—COUGH! That’s not a little—GHH...”

“Oh dear. Should I pat your back?”

“G-—KHHK—get out—get out!”

Jeong Ryujang flailed his arms and shouted.

The woman’s polite smile deepened into an even richer concentration.

“But Young Master, you’re so weak, aren’t you? There’s hardly anyone left in the manor... if even I’m gone, what will you do? You only get treated well because you’re the Blood-Den Great Lord’s son. And even so, you’re a frail little weakling who thinks he’s smart.”

“Get out!”

The woman beamed.

Then she bowed deeply at the waist.

“As you command. Then you’ll have to conduct yourself well, all on your own. If you don’t... you’ll die.”

“I’ll handle it myself, so get the hell out, you monster. And we already stocked up on arson tools in case something like this happened in the mine, so even if the fire spreads—”

“Oh dear. I’m not talking about the mine.”

“What?”

“Now then. I’ll grant your wish. I should get out of your sight.”

“Wait—”

Jeong Ryujang clamped his mouth shut mid-protest.

The woman’s figure had already vanished without a trace.

*****

The gates of Jeong Family Manor opened, and a string of people came pouring out, each carrying some kind of tool.

They were in such a hurry they didn’t even form ranks—the gap between the vanguard, the middle, and the rear widened by the second.

Judging by the crude Lightness Art of the vanguard, they were probably around second-rate at best... and if the tip of the spear was like that, what did that say about the whole?

In the brush that hugged the foot of the mountain, Qing watched them closely with half-lidded eyes.

Hmm. That station—no, was it Jeong Ryujang?

Whatever. That slick bastard with the name that felt like that... doesn’t seem to be here.

But if their fighting strength is only that much, I should’ve just stormed in openly.

Still—haven’t people always said you can’t emphasize safety enough?

Of course, that doesn’t apply to me, whose safety is rarely threatened in the first place—it applies to our Half-Sword Twin-Blade Society members.

So this is a house robbery.

I waited all the way until morning for this... and what do you know? Their strength is even more pathetic than I imagined.

And a moment later—

The gates of Jeong Family Manor closed.

Only then did Qing rise from the brush.

“Let’s go.”

The expressions of the group heading toward Jeong Family Manor were bleak beyond measure.

The front gate of Jeong Family Manor, too understaffed to even post a guard.

Standing before it, Qing hammered on the tightly shut door—

BANG BANG BANG—hard enough to rattle the whole thing—and shouted:

“Come out! Get out here, now—are you not coming out!?”

BANG BANG BANG—

With each impact of her fist, the door bowed inward as if it might shatter.

And yet the door panel didn’t fall off—somehow.

That was the effect of the new hinges installed by Civil-Engineering Heavenly Maiden Seomun Cheong.

That bastard—what? “At least hang the door back up before you leave”? As if there were no limit to brazen audacity. You human trash of the Blood Cult.

BANG BANG BANG BANG!!!

At this point it was practically a riot.

How long did she keep pounding on the front gate of Jeong Family Manor, emptied of people?

A voice came from behind the door.

“Guest, right now our Jeong Family Manor isn’t taking visi—”

In that instant, Qing’s eyes flashed.

As if her shoulder blades might touch behind her back, she flung both arms wide, arched her upper body far back, and spread her palms.

Then Qing took one big step forward and thrust her arms out.

BOOOOM!

With a thunderous roar, the gate exploded.

Large and small fragments shot out like grapeshot.

The Blood Cultist behind the door folded at the waist and went flying, while the fragments grazed and shredded clothing, carved skin, and lodged into his torso.

As the Blood Cultist—instantly a blood-soaked mess—rolled on the ground, Qing strode in with long, heavy steps, crossing the estate.

“W-who—”

DINGGG!

Before someone she met could even finish speaking, the sound of a massive temple bell cut them off—and an old Blood Cultist collapsed limply, his body twitching.

It was because the terrifying power of the Tathagata Divine Palm had crushed his chest inward.

The shine in Qing’s eyes drained further, sinking into the color of a deep abyss.

In Qing’s mind, the Blood Cultists from the mine surfaced.

Lives that weren’t innocent—yet were still pitiable.

Commoners who had done nothing but be born in a Blood Cult village—who cried and shook in terror, wetting themselves, unable to offer even the slightest resistance.

Why... why wasn’t it fun?

If only they’d screamed curses, raged, and drawn hidden daggers to rush her—then Qing could’ve sneered and laughed while cutting them down with pleasure.

Was it because... she’d cut down opponents who couldn’t even resist?

Because they were helpless?

Because they hadn’t even dared to fight back?

No. That couldn’t be it.

It wasn’t as if this was the first time she’d butchered people who never learned martial arts, and wasn’t it the highest form of slaughter to reduce someone into a state where they couldn’t resist, then dismantle them?

Then... was it because they were people she didn’t have to kill?

No. They were people who had to die.

If she left them alive, they’d run their mouths and bring a Blood Cult pursuit team down on her... and even if not, they’d end up serving the Blood Cult again with all their zeal, fanatic believers brainwashed by hate.

Then why does it feel this disgusting?

Because she killed women?

No.

There’s no male or female in front of evil—who practices gender equality more than me?

Because she killed the not-fully-grown?

Not that either.

Yellow-shoot bastards will keep harming the world for the rest of their lives, so they’re worse than old villains, if anything.

Right. They were bastards who needed to die.

And yet dealing with the mine’s Blood Cultists had only been unpleasant.

Even while chopping off heads without pain, her mood stayed foul the entire time.

It hadn’t been slaughter—it had been processing.

Mechanical work.

Something like that.

And yet... after she shoved the severed heads into the hole to dispose of them, the heartbreaking screams from below had been truly sweet.

When she lit the mine and left, the screams of the corpse-poison alchemist she’d left behind—her curses, driven mad with evil as Qing ruined her limbs and left her to burn alive—those had been satisfying to hear.

So why?

Why had killing the Blood Cult’s “survival selectors” not been enjoyable at all?

It was the same right now.

This was a manor where all the strong men had already been sent out.

Killing the Blood Cult’s menial workers she ran into—the old ones, or the women, or the servants who hadn’t been dispatched—wasn’t enjoyable at all.

No. It was the opposite.

It was unpleasant.

And the more unpleasant it was, the hotter it got—the anger that slaughter couldn’t vent, the thick rage that glued itself on and burned her insides with a sticky, clinging heat.