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Chapter 19 - 19

"...There's someone in the Emei Sect suffering from a heart demon or something?"

"-Cough!!"

Uncle's words made the liquor catch in my throat.

The burly uncle pounded my back with his pot-lid hands.

"Kid, eat slower."

Between coughs, I barely caught my breath and set down my trembling glass with shaky hands.

I looked at Gwak Du Uncle.

"H-Heart demon?"

"Yeah, heart demon. The kind you can't come back from once you cross that line."

"D-Does that even make sense? You're saying an Emei Sect nun slaughtered people like that?"

Uncles, you can't get too close to the truth!!

Do you know how much I've suffered with Cheongwol since I found out?!

Thankfully, Gu Yeong Uncle took my side.

"Uh, big brother. We're not blind. If it was any other sword technique, maybe, but Shaoyang Sword Technique? We'd recognize it just from looking at the bodies."

"The Emei Sect has more than just the Shaoyang Sword Technique."

The burly uncle scratched his head and chimed in.

"It's not just Shaoyang, but that brutal, merciless sword technique couldn't belong to the Emei Sect. Does the Emei Sect even have something like that?"

"There is one. Extermination Sword."

"Cough!! Cough!!! Coooough!!"

This time it wasn't just coughing—it was practically convulsing.

How far does this uncle's guesswork go?

Extermination Sword was the technique Cheongwol represented when she became one of the Demonic Cult's Seven Heavens.

Overbearing, with no mercy in its strikes.

It was the sword technique she perfected.

"What's Extermination Sword?"

Gu Yeong Uncle asked.

Gwak Du Uncle blinked, as if rummaging through memories.

"It's a sword technique that was banned in the Emei Sect long ago. But once a technique's created, it doesn't just disappear."

"Cough!! Gah!! Cough!!"

"Hey, kid. Quiet down."

You be quiet, Uncle!!

I'm saving your life here!!

Can't you see I'm forcing these coughs?!

What if Cheongwol hears this crap from downstairs?!

Gu Yeong Uncle continued.

"How do you know about it, big brother?"

"I may be a beggar, but when it comes to this—" He poked his temple. "—I don't lose to anyone. Still don't know?"

No good. Time for forced shutdown.

I wiped my mouth and waved my hands.

"Eh, eh, eh, no way!"

"What's this now?"

"No, can you suspect the Emei Sect while under their protection? You might have brains, but no shame!"

"Hey, kid. No matter who feeds me, as a Beggars' Sect disciple, I call out what needs calling."

"All we know for sure is bodies were found in the back mountain. Suspecting the Emei Sect is just coming from your head."

Gwak Du Uncle finally smacked his lips.

"Well... true, but..."

"Didn't you sing songs of感動 just months ago when Muwol Satae herself brought food? Forgotten already in that short time?"

Gu Yeong Uncle and the burly uncle nodded.

"Yeah, you went too far this time, big brother. Even if you love speculating..."

"This brother only likes it when he's right alone."

"Ahem."

Gwak Du Uncle's face started turning red.

He tried to reframe it.

"...Anyway, with heart demon cases popping up everywhere lately... I just thought the Emei Sect was possible. Lately, young experts collapsing isn't rare either..."

I couldn't argue that.

That's how the story flows to the Demonic Cult appearing.

Gu Yeong Uncle nodded too.

"It's every sect's worry. Heart demons... Man, if only there were doctors for that."

The burly uncle let out a hollow laugh.

"Even divine physicians can't cure heart demons, and they trip up even experts. What doctor? If one existed, every sect would fight over them—a disaster."

"...Why get so prickly over a joke?"

"You keep saying nonsense."

I sighed and finally decided.

Seeing the uncles struggle with this was precarious.

Even knowing Cheongwol was in the basement, I wanted to say this much.

"...Uncles."

I stopped the fake coughs and leaned in.

The uncles leaned in to hear my lowered voice.

"...Suddenly whispering like this."

I said gravely.

"Gwak Du Uncle loves guessing, right? Well, I've got a hunch too... Drop the back mountain stuff. Felt bad the moment I heard."

When I spoke like this, the uncles listened.

Using 'hunch' as an excuse, I'd made many right choices for them, knowing the future.

Gwak Du Uncle tilted his head but replied.

"Well... if your hunch says so."

"Seojin's hunches are reliable."

After that, I refilled my glass.

"Hey, why'd you bring so much liquor!"

And quickly emptied it.

As time passed, I grew worried about Cheongwol waiting quietly below.

****

-Cheongwol's body shivered from the cold.

She never found the robes, and darkness enveloped her.

The basement's chill touched her bare skin unrelentingly.

She felt wronged, humiliated. At first.

But... a familiar voice tickled her ears, traveling through the dark.

'Hey, why're you pounding the drinks today?'

'Because it tastes good! More!'

The voice carried urgency. Outwardly grumbling, but its intent was clear to Cheongwol.

He was rushing the beggars out.

Ultimately, for himself.

He didn't want them discovering their secret play.

Cheongwol initially laughed in disbelief.

The Leather Room's owner, a layman... protecting a martial artist like her.

Her, hiding behind someone far weaker.

"..."

But as time passed, Cheongwol didn't mind Han Seojin's efforts.

No matter how abnormal the situation, no matter how her pathetic state snapped her to reality.

...It had been too long since she felt protected.

He was handling it without her stepping up.

How long since someone tried this hard for her?

Not just chasing beggars... but playing the game too.

Chewing it over slowly in the dark, she realized.

He always said he hated it, but in SM play, he accommodated her.

Just the right intensity.

Serious about treating her heart demon, perhaps.

He gave shame, but equal praise.

Humiliation, but equal release.

No excessive demands.

Thinking back, he might've refused to extinguish the candle or remove the robes.

Might've reached out to touch her bare body.

Cheongwol never intended to allow it, but Han Seojin respected that line clearly.

That exquisite boundary, that distance.

Such consideration... or trust built up.

Cheongwol could remove her Emei Sect robes herself.

Shedding all burdens.

No longer Emei's Cheongwol, just a woman trembling in thin undergarments.

Her heart raced precariously at the beggars' voices.

Fearing they'd storm the basement any moment, pounding.

Then it'd all end.

Assuming the beggars weren't dealt with, the Central Plains would know her state.

"..."

A future she loathed madly.

...But another thought.

If exposed, wouldn't the burdens lift instantly?

This endless homework, ended in a flash?

And how would life change?

...Somehow, not much.

The world would point fingers, but she could hole up in Emei Mountain.

Practice alone as always, eat alone, live alone, rest alone.

Senior brothers' gossip? She endured that now.

When stifled, climb Emei Mountain, see the waterfall, smell flowers...

...Chat with Han Seojin sometimes.

He could be a friend, accepting all of her.

...Thinking that, the feared future didn't seem so horrific.

Life wouldn't crumble for failing expectations... she was realizing bit by bit.

With that realization, a deep sigh escaped her chest.

"...Haa..."

Again.

The heart demon tormenting her... retreated a step.

In normal circumstances, would she ponder collapse?

Ponder a future of failed expectations?

In this new situation, she thought the unthinkable, and her mind eased.

One thought led to another.

Ah.

Cheongwol felt it.

Some enlightenment coming.

She hesitated, thinking of her state...

...But realized this bare form, without Emei robes, was most truly her.

She knelt slowly, hands on knees.

Posture straight. Breathing steady.

Circulation exercise she couldn't do around senior brothers, she began here in the basement.

She showed Han Seojin her lewd form through reckless trust.

He rewarded with praise.

Same now.

Circulating here might be riskier than near senior brothers.

But reckless, she'd trust Han Seojin.

Not friends yet, but first time not feeling alone.

Hearing his urgent voice chasing beggars above, anyone would.

****

"Yeah! Go! I'll visit next time!!"

Gwak Du waved as Han Seojin saw him off.

-Thud.

The door closed, and he exchanged glances with the other beggars, clicking teeth.

Their eyes met, and they burst laughing.

Playing dumb at his place had been tough.

"Heh heh. All grown up, man."

Gu Yeong said.

The burly uncle agreed.

"We should announce visits from now on. Right, big brother?"

Gwak Du calmed his laughter.

"Yeah. Thought he was still a kid, but sneaking a woman without us knowing."

Gu Yeong slapped Gwak Du's shoulder.

"Who d'you think? Couldn't figure it."

The burly uncle said.

"That dumpling girl? Only one Seojin talks to."

"She's chubby. Seojin wouldn't..."

"Plump and nice. Sweet personality too."

Gwak Du playfully shoved the burly uncle's face.

"Anyway, bold kid."

"Yeah. Always had that bold streak. Would've been great as a Beggars' Sect disciple."

Gwak Du muttered, recalling past.

"Man... even thought of dressing her in Emei robes..."

****

"Yeah! Go! I'll visit next time!!"

I saw off the beggar uncles.

They staggered away, happy faces singing.

Only those uncles could be so carefree.

"...Hic."

I'd drunk heavily too, buzzed, but not relaxed enough to drop my guard.

Once they were far, I rushed to lock the shop door and grabbed the robes from the box.

Trembling hands lit the candle, then opened the basement.

How much time passed?

Two hours?

Insane.

Accidentally did abandonment play, but without consent, it's just violence.

Not even abandonment play.

Just my screw-up.

Rating revised. 90 to 10.

Total failure.

Descending the basement stairs, I opened and closed my mouth.

Should call her, but how?

Junior Sister Cheongwol?

Cheongwol?

Did she see this as play, or was she furious?

My tone depended on her attitude.

-Thud... thud... thud...

I stepped down the wooden stairs.

The basement brightened by candlelight... and there she was, proving it wasn't a dream.

Cheongwol.

Squatting in just undergarments, unseen before.

"Ah...!"

As light spread, she hurriedly shifted.

Hiding behind the leather drying rack I'd moved down.

Even a glimpse: sensual figure.

"..."

I still didn't know what to say.

So I gulped saliva and approached her.

Complicated feelings.

Terrifyingly scared, yet strangely grateful.

If she'd thought more aggressively, we all might've died?

Her holding back those emotions, obeying quietly... she looked different now.

More so since realizing she was a masochist.

I approached Cheongwol slowly.

Cheongwol said nothing, didn't move.

Just stayed hidden behind the leather where I'd told her.

"..."

I stood beside her.

The undergarment was unique.

Thin cloth covered front from chest to navel... but back? Only straps at neck and mid-back.

Like a diamond-shaped cloth shielding the front.

Hidden behind leather, showing only her back, I saw it clearly.

Smooth scapula line flowing down, straight erector spinae.

Couldn't look away from her sideboob visible from behind.

Smooth skin etched deep with one glance.

Slim waist clear even from back.

"D-Don't... look. If you don't want to die."

At Cheongwol's words, I hastily draped the robes over her shoulders.

Ah, fuck.

Still too scary. Grateful she waited? What gratitude...

Felt anew: must stay far away.

Maybe flee with Beggars' Sect uncles' help.

"Haa...."

Robes back on, Cheongwol sighed long, signaling play's end.

I set the candle aside.

Knew I had to speak.

My screw-up was huge...

No, fuck, uncles' fault.

But masochist's side is never wrong.

My fault for not considering uncles...

No, then Cheongwol shouldn't have raided my basement first...

...Anyway. Apologize.

Go serious.

Junior Sister Cheongwol, I was wrong—

"Cheongwol—"

"—Me."

Squatting Cheongwol clutched the robes like a blanket.

Frozen briefly, she whispered.

"I... endured hard."

I couldn't react.

Not blaming, not angry.

Silent at the unexpected, Cheongwol looked at me, repeating.

"...Owner... I... endured... hard."

****

Even after long circulation exercise, stuck in pitch black, Cheongwol ridiculously felt fear.

Would this play end?

How much longer?

No change from starting: oppressive dark. Chilled body.

Noisy beggars' voices.

She now wished for end.

Reason to endure: Han Seojin's promise.

Generous praise promised at end lingered.

Pathetic hoping for that, but nothing else.

Otherwise, no reason to do this.

Rather go up and kill all...

"..."

Cheongwol feared such violent thoughts suddenly.

Fighting them, she endured.

When Han Seojin finally came down.

Draped robes on shoulders again.

Relief surged with emotions hard to contain.

"...Haa..."

Like achievement of swinging sword to plan's end.

Refreshing, joyful.

This vulgar deviation ended safely again.

But still needed something.

"...Owner... I... endured... hard."

Unsteady heart wanted reaction.

Keep promise, or say back pretty.

...Say something.

Still anxious.

"...Hic."

Han Seojin hiccuped—how much liquor?

Cheongwol wondered what she was doing to a drunk.

"..."

As he seemed to stand...

-Swish.

His hand touched her head.

Overwhelming warmth engulfed her, beyond robes.

Like warm water, goosebumps rose.

Then he gently pulled her head with one hand, stroking.

Soft hair flowed between fingers.

"...Hard to be prettier than today."

Buzzed? His actions bolder.

Rough hand stroked her hair.

All negative feelings slowly melted in that touch.

Should push away like petting a dog, but didn't.

In space just for two, he whispered.

"...You did too well. Good girl."

"..."

Cheongwol questioned enduring long for awkward touch.

...But slowly, strength drained from body.

Tension eased. Exhausted.

Three vulgar words. Long wait.

"...I..."

Relief intoxicated, question rose she'd never ask normally.

Tried speaking, mouth wouldn't open.

'...Am I... pretty?'

He answered as if reading mind.

"...Pretty, Cheongwol."

-Thud...

Squatting, she collapsed to floor, head on his thigh.

Never imagined resting head on man's thigh.

But now felt right.

"Our Wol... so good."

"..."

-Zing...

That sensation again.

Felt only here.

Surrendering control, relying on someone.

Unshowable self.

Didn't hate the comfort.

.

.

.

.

.

Cheongwol and Han Seojin slowly left the basement.

Awkwardness post-play always uncomfortable.

Heat fades, shameful acts replay.

Words and deeds never normal linger at mind's back.

But neither speaks of it.

Too irrational.

...But why.

Cheongwol couldn't hold one curiosity.

"...Owner."

Fingers carefully stroked hair he'd petted.

"...Yes?"

His tone polite as before.

Felt more awkward now.

Without pointing it, she asked.

"...To other... people too?"

"...Pardon?"

"...Do you... call us... Wo, Wol or whatever. Pretty... praise like that."

Cheongwol couldn't face Han Seojin.

Didn't know why asking herself.

But did.

Hesitant Han Seojin answered.

"...Uh... only Junior Sister Cheongwol has seen my basement. Hic."

"...Then..."

"...Obviously these acts only with Junior Sister Cheongwol..."

"...Only with me?"

"...Yes."

Cheongwol nodded stiffly.

Then hurried out without more words.

Heart raced busily, reason unknown.

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