PNB Chapter 237 : Chain of Hatred
Chapter 237 : Chain of Hatred
Chapter 237: Chain of Hatred
“……We were too late.”
Demon-Slaying Unit member Tang Yeo-hye twisted her lips as she looked at the corpse displayed in the center of the village square.
As if to show what had been done to him, the Beggars’ Union operative’s chest had been completely hollowed out.
He had been a planted spy of the Beggars’ Union who had infiltrated deep into the main headquarters, but after being personally executed by the Heavenly Demon, it was said that his body was now being displayed like this while being paraded from village to village.
“His name was… Hwang Gu, wasn’t it.”
Disguised in shabby clothing like a local villager, Namgung Jin muttered as he examined the corpse.
Though it had been a solo operation of the Demon-Slaying Unit, the young master of the Namgung Clan had insisted on joining and followed Murong Cheonghye.
Pushing through the crowd and stepping closer, he soon nodded as if certain.
“There are signs of torture as well. He must have tried to endure until the very end.”
Murong Cheonghye murmured with a sorrowful expression. To have infiltrated even the main headquarters in such a dangerous region meant he had already been prepared to throw away his life like straw.
He must have endured, and endured again until the very end.
“Those damned Demon Cult bastards…….”
Hearing the Vice Captain’s mutter, Captain Jeok Unyeop ground his teeth, revealing his fury toward the Demon Cult.
And unlike the four members of the Demon-Slaying Unit, the murmuring villagers were also burning with hostility—toward the Orthodox Faction.
“Look! This is the fate of the sewer rat who dared to spy on us and infiltrate our main headquarters!”
The village announcer stood tall on the platform, pointing at the corpse with contempt. The people reacted violently.
“Those Central Plains bastards, can’t they just leave us alone?”
“We just want to live quietly… why do they keep stirring things up!”
“Slandering us, persecuting us—it’s not enough for them anymore! Those damned hypocrites!”
Stones and trash were thrown onto the corpse of the Beggars’ Union operative who had infiltrated them.
Watching this from among the villagers, disguised as Demon Cult members, were the Demon-Slaying Unit members.
“Live quietly? Who was it that stirred up the Central Plains first…….”
Tang Yeo-hye, inexperienced in infiltration, was about to flare up at the reactions around her, but Murong Cheonghye, maintaining a calm expression, grabbed her hand and shook her head.
A whisper of telepathy followed, telling her to suppress her emotions and regain composure.
“…….”
They had traced the faint, nearly severed connection all the way here after discovering traces of the Demon Cult at a blood-soaked site in the Central Plains.
But the Beggars’ Union operative who had guided them with information had returned as a cold corpse.
Seeing how the carefully hidden spies of the Murim Alliance and the Beggars’ Union were being exposed and executed one by one…
“They either knew our identities from the beginning and waited for the right time…”
“Or there may be a traitor within.”
Captain Jeok Unyeop and Vice Captain Murong Cheonghye took turns voicing their opinions.
Either way, the situation was unfolding ominously. And if it was the former, then it meant the “right time” had come—suggesting a major movement within the Demon Cult was imminent.
“Captain, we should withdraw for now.”
At Murong Cheonghye’s suggestion, Jeok Unyeop nodded slightly with a bitter expression.
The one who had gathered them had been found like this, as a corpse. Now they had no choice but to devise their next plan on their own.
In other words, they had lost the eyes and ears that would observe the enemy’s movements deep within enemy territory.
Perhaps they themselves had already fallen into a very dangerous situation.
“We need to figure out how to get out.”
Shaanxi Murim Alliance.
Having fully recovered from the aftermath of the Blood Cult’s sudden attack, the place was now in great turmoil due to new information arriving from outside regions.
Amid the solemn buildings nestled in the mountains, tense footsteps echoed without pause.
“You’re saying another spy’s contact has been lost?”
With a letter in hand, the faint trembling of his fingertips. Though his voice was calm, Murim Alliance Leader Namgung Soseon’s tone carried suppressed sorrow.
“Yes, judging by the loss of regular contact with the internal informant… it would seem…”
Murim Alliance strategist Zhuge Seon trailed off, but everyone present could already guess what had happened from that silence.
After all, one by one, contact with their spies had begun to disappear recently—as if someone was trying to completely gouge out the eyes and ears of the Central Plains.
“So many precious lives… fading away so futilely.”
His voice weighed heavily over the room.
Across the meeting hall, Elder Ilhogae of the Beggars’ Union nodded deeply, a dark shadow cast over his eyes.
“They were among the few talents who had infiltrated deep into the main headquarters. But now that I think of it… perhaps the Demon Cult deliberately let them in to toy with us, Alliance Leader.”
Emotion seeped into Ilhogae’s words—anger and self-reproach intertwined.
His wrinkled hands trembled.
“…Haa.”
Namgung Soseon let out a deep sigh. The talents they had painstakingly cultivated were all being exposed and meeting horrific ends.
At first, he had thought it coincidence, but as the news of lost contact continued one after another, it became clear.
The Ming Cult—no, the Demon Cult—had also been moving beneath the surface like them.
And it seemed they had been one step ahead.
“They must have been watching and spying on us as well. If everything collapsed at once like this, then our information must have leaked to the Demon Cult.”
Just as they had planted spies among them, the enemy had done the same—earlier, and deeper.
They had created channels through which information could leak, and before any full-scale war, the Murim Alliance had already begun losing in the intelligence war.
And this meant that the Beggars’ Union, the greatest information network of the Orthodox Murim, also bore some responsibility.
“I am ashamed. I thought we had filtered them thoroughly……”
Ilhogae quietly covered his weary face.
“No. You have suffered the greatest losses—how could I blame you?”
Countless Beggar Heroes had died in the heart of enemy territory. To assign blame now would only please the Demon Cult.
However, concerned for the future, Namgung Soseon had to ask as the Alliance Leader:
“By the way… has the Beggar King still not returned?”
Ilhogae nodded with a gaunt face.
“Yes, he has yet to return to official appearances and remains behind the scenes.”
In truth, Hwang Geolgae had secretly returned and resumed command of the Beggars’ Union, but since they didn’t know how much had been infiltrated by the Demon Cult, Ilhogae couldn’t reveal it openly.
Hearing that he was still “like that” externally, Namgung Soseon rubbed his brow in fatigue.
He seemed to recall old memories.
“The Beggar King… even in the past, he was always… unpredictable.”
He remembered how, even in their youth, the man’s way of thinking had been unlike that of ordinary people.
And how, in his later years, he had suffered from Inner Demons.
He could understand, but at a time when his help might be desperately needed, it was regrettable.
“Are they coming once again to collect a blood debt from the Central Plains?”
Their endless hatred and thirst for revenge toward the Central Plains.
They claimed betrayal, sowed hatred, and those of the Central Plains who suffered tragedies from it had also lived on fueled by vengeance.
The Alliance Leader slowly rose and walked toward the window.
The sunset had dyed the mountain range red. That crimson reminded him of a blood-soaked past.
The Great War Between Orthodox and Demonic Factions.
A word that would enrage the Demon Cult, who called themselves the Ming Cult. A tragedy that stiffened every martial artist of the Central Plains just by its name.
Long ago, when tensions had deepened, that war had broken out, leaving wounds on both sides that could never be erased.
But when wounds run too deep, they require time to heal. For a while, peace had come, and many tried to prevent innocent bloodshed.
Though he did not represent all of the Orthodox Murim, Namgung Soseon himself wished for peace over revenge during his tenure as Alliance Leader.
And though people might find it hard to believe, the Demon Cult also seemed to have avoided unnecessary war until now.
They had learned through the pain of war that such conflicts benefitted neither side.
That fragile peace had seemed to continue…
“What happened to make things change like this?”
He had thought eliminating the troublesome Blood Cult, which had suddenly emerged after hiding for so long, would be enough.
But the Demon Cult’s recent actions were aggressive and bold—executions of spies, disappearances of agents, and schemes reaching into the Central Plains.
They were openly trampling lines that neither side had crossed before.
As the Murim Alliance Leader, he could not ignore this. But if they responded, the Demon Cult would escalate even further.
And ultimately, that would mean…
“Is there truly no way to avoid it?”
A chain of hatred that no one could sever.
And as history showed, such relationships were not easily resolved. If one insisted on ending it, there was almost only one method.
To annihilate the other side completely.
“…And for this to happen when I am the Alliance Leader…”
Loneliness passed across Namgung Soseon’s face.
Some leaders might call for war—but he was not such a man.
“And Alliance Leader, we have also lost contact with some Demon-Slaying Unit members who infiltrated to support the spies.”
Strategist Zhuge Seon reported with a dark expression.
They were brave members who had willingly volunteered to enter a place as good as certain death to support field operatives.
But as those planted in the field disappeared one by one, naturally, all news of them vanished as well.
“And so… there has also been no word from the young master of the Cheongun Sword for two months now.”
Though spoken softly, the weight of those words shook Namgung Soseon.
His son, Namgung Jin.
The son of the Murim Alliance Leader, a young swordsman fighting on the frontlines of the Orthodox Murim.
Never arrogant despite his power and status, always active at the forefront against the Demon Cult and Blood Cult.
Some praised him as a future Alliance Leader—but to his father, he remained a source of worry.
“…Why did he volunteer for such a mission? I still do not understand.”
His son had joined the dangerous Demon-Slaying Unit mission of his own accord.
He had once mentioned keeping an eye on Murong Cheonghye—had he perhaps fallen for the beauty of that Murong Clan lady?
“…Haa.”
Though he stood at the pinnacle of the Orthodox Murim, unable to properly manage even his own son, Namgung Soseon could only let out a deep sigh.
“Eat well! Esteemed masters!”
A large village overlooking the path toward the Ten-Thousand Great Mountains.
Nestled at the mountain’s base, it appeared completely ordinary on the surface—vast fields stretched out, slow oxen plowed the land.
Children’s laughter echoed throughout the village, while elders gathered under eaves to share old stories.
There were even self-sufficient businesses and a proper inn like this.
The Demon-Slaying Unit members looked down at the steaming dishes the waiter had just swiftly delivered.
“…It’s a bit strange to say this, but seeing this…”
Tang Yeo-hye muttered as she picked up a plump dumpling, confusion flickering in her eyes.
“They almost seem like ordinary people.”
Murong Cheonghye quietly responded.
At that, Captain Jeok Unyeop, who had been checking for poison with a silver needle, shook his head.
“Vice Captain, that cannot be. They are merely hiding malice beneath kind faces.”
Though the silver needle showed no reaction, the Captain’s suspicion remained.
He had always warned never to let one’s guard down against Demon Cult members—if one wished to live, one must regard them as demons wearing human skin.
“Captain, sometimes prejudice prevents us from seeing the truth.”
As if recalling her own past, an indescribable pain passed across Murong Cheonghye’s face.
“…Prejudice, you say.”
Jeok Unyeop narrowed his eyes.
After watching her for a moment, he spoke as if seeking to resolve a long-held question.
“Vice Captain, do you know why the Great War Between Orthodox and Demonic Factions happened?”
At that question, Tang Yeo-hye—who had been greedily eating as if poison would only benefit her—suddenly interjected.
“That war… it happened because of the Heaven-Slaying Star, didn’t it?”
Jeok Unyeop nodded, as if he had much to say about that.
The night of Beijing still suffocated with its sticky heat.
In the reception area of the Troubleshooter Office, where the front gate could be seen, I leaned back in my chair, silently rolling a Ten-Thousand-Year Ice Crystal between my fingers.
Since Pak Chil had left after our rather deep conversation, my thoughts refused to settle.
“So the chaos of this world exists because I failed to fulfill my role……”
A being like a punishment sent by the heavens. Originally, even evil people should have been swept away during the process of purification—but since that didn’t happen, the accumulated evil eventually caused side effects.
Then wouldn’t it be only right for me—the Heaven-Slaying Star—to resolve what happened due to its absence?
“Ultimately, it just means I should punish evil and accumulate good karma, right? Just like I’ve been doing.”
Though it felt like I would have to work even harder at it than before.
Right now, I could feel a faint but undeniable sense of responsibility as the Heaven-Slaying Star.
And once that thought had taken root, it was inevitable that a small pang of conscience would follow.
“…Why am I not more shameless?”
Perhaps they heard my muttering—Ilhong and Jo Harang both glanced at me silently.
“….”
“What? Why?”
One employee avoided my gaze as if it was nothing, while the woman with the great blade spoke her mind.
“That just now was pretty shameless, Mujin.”
“…What are you talking about? Shut up.”
Grumbling, I rose from my seat.