Chapter 127: The Devilish Man (2)

The three stooges were intimately familiar with Il-mok’s laziness thanks to the months they’d spent acting as his human shield.

But come on, even he should show some restraint when the instructor was glaring at him like he wanted to murder him on the spot, right?

At this point, it felt less like laziness and more like a deliberate provocation.

Ma Do-yeong finally snapped and opened his mouth first.

"Disciple Il-mok."

"Yes, Instructor."

When Ma Do-yeong called out to him, Il-mok let his arm drop from its half-hearted sword swinging and answered with an innocent face.

His expression screamed I have absolutely no idea why you're calling me.

With another vein bulging on his forehead, Ma Do-yeong spoke up. “This is a martial arts training session, is it not?”

"I'm aware of that, Instructor."

"...What you’re doing looks less like martial arts to me and more like a toddler’s dance routine.”

Ma Do-yeong just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Why was that person so dead set on killing this lazy, pathetic excuse for a cult member?

Why couldn't the guys who'd previously targeted this young master deal with one seemingly brain-dead idiot and avoid causing all this trouble?

In response to the instructor’s murderous glare, the pathetic fool in question answered with a bright smile. “That’s a misunderstanding, Instructor.”

"Misunderstanding?"

"That's right, Instructor. I was simply practicing my forms as slowly and gently as possible to correct my form. Haha. They say fundamentals are important, you know?"

That kind of training method did actually exist. But...

‘That's supposed to be practiced with disciplined, slow movements to correct your form, not flopping around like a goddamn fish!’

Ma Do-yeong nearly roared at the youngest young master's smooth bullshit.

Putting aside their relationship between target and assassin,  even just as an instructor and a student, this was an unacceptable level of bullshit.

"I had no idea you had such lofty intentions. In that case, it seems this instructor must step in to aid your progress.”

With that, Ma Do-yeong drew his weapon.

“I will personally guide you with a sparring match. You three, step aside for a moment.”

Following the instructor's order, the trio who'd been nervously watching for their chance quickly backed away.

The sudden, impromptu duel between an instructor and a student drew the attention of every other member of the Upper Class.

As all eyes fell on him, Il-mok had only one thought.

‘Why is this crazy instructor so hell-bent on picking a fight with me?’

Even Chu Il-hwan, who used to struggle with murderous impulses, hadn't hassled him this persistently.

Il-mok had no idea that Chu Il-hwan had known what he was doing but found it amusing enough to let it slide, so he couldn't make sense of Ma Do-yeong's behavior at all.

"Come at me first."

Seeing Ma Do-yeong's stern expression as he spoke with his sword drawn, Il-mok began to suspect.

‘I knew it! This bastard's definitely one of their rats!’

Of course, it was just a hunch for now, too flimsy to report to the Hall Master. Besides that, Il-mok had his own internal enemy to worry about.

‘If I fight the instructor now, I'll end up going berserk like during the last exam. Wait! Is he trying to trigger my rampage and then "accidentally" kill me while trying to stop it?’

As Il-mok stood there lost in thought, Ma Do-yeong finally lost his patience.

"If you won't come to me, then I'll come to you!"

With that declaration, Ma Do-yeong charged. In that split second of crisis, Il-mok’s mind raced.

Swoosh!

As Ma Do-yeong's sword, filled with powerful energy, flew toward Il-mok as if to cut him in half, Il-mok quickly swung his own sword.

And the moment their two swords clashed...

CLANG!

"Ugh."

Il-mok let out a slight groan and stepped back, his right arm that had met the sword now raised high in the air. What's more...

Ting, ting, ting…

Clink.

The sword Il-mok had been holding went flying and was now rolling around on the ground.

For a swordsman, dropping one's weapon was the ultimate humiliation.

"That was truly a masterful move, Instructor. Thanks to you, I feel like I've gained great insight today."

When Il-mok immediately acknowledged defeat with a bow after losing his sword in just one exchange, Ma Do-yeong's face turned even redder.

“Are you toying with me right now?”

"What do you mean, Instructor?"

"You think I don't know you deliberately dropped your sword?"

"You're misunderstanding, Instructor. How could a mere student like me possibly withstand the full power of an instructor?"

Hearing Il-mok's slippery response, something in Ma Do-yeong’s head snapped.

“Fine! We’ll see this through to the end! Pick up your sword, now!”

"It's really a misunderstanding, Instructor."

"You think those lies will work on me? If you won't pick up your sword, I'll make you pick it up!"

Just as Ma Do-yeong was about to charge at Il-mok again, Il-mok beat him to it and shouted.

"This is unfair! And this is unjust treatment! How can you, Instructor, single me out for sparring when ten other students are here?"

Il-mok had expected this from the start, and just as he'd predicted, one stupid fish immediately took the bait.

"That's right, Instructor! Why are you giving special treatment only to Young Master Il-mok? Please give me a chance too!"

It was the fish who was crazy for sparring and training: Dokgo Pae.

***

Starting with Dokgo Pae, then Bang Mi-hwa, and finally all the other the Upper Class, the martial arts training time ended anticlimactically after everyone got their turn to spar.

In the end, Ma Do-yeong had to finish the lesson without being able to take out his frustrations on Il-mok.

About an hour later, around lunchtime, Ma Do-yeong was summoned to the Vice Hall Master's quarters.

"...If you keep calling me this often, won't the Hall Master notice?"

When Ma Do-yeong asked with a puzzled expression, Yu Geuk wore a strange look.

"Don't worry, there's justification for it. More importantly, how's the surveillance of the Eighth Young Master going?"

Just thinking about Il-mok made veins pop on Ma Do-yeong's forehead, but he forced a relaxed smile and answered, “Honestly, he’s such a pathetic whelp that just watching him makes me feel secondhand embarrassment. I can't understand why no one has managed to dispose of such a pathetic guy until now."

"Pathetic, you say..."

For some reason, even though Ma Do-yeong's assessment could be seen as a thinly veiled jab at Yu Geuk for his failed missions, Yu Geuk was actually smiling.

It was a blatant sneer.

"Instructor Ma. Do you look in the mirror often?"

"The mirror?" Ma Do-yeong asked back, looking as if he’d been asked a completely random question.

Yu Geuk maintained his sneer.

"I told you to observe the Eighth Young Master, but you ended up giving me an assessment of yourself."

"...Are you saying I'm pathetic?"

“Oh? Good. At least you have enough brains to understand that much."

"I think you're going too far."

The sneer on Yu Geuk's face deepened.

"The youngest young master is pathetic, you say? Then, are you suggesting that a pathetic boy managed to gain so much influence within the Cult at such a young age, an ordinary boy? And while all the other instructors who've dealt with the young master have praised his excellence, he only looks pathetic to you? You must have some special third eye that others don't have."

This was true.

All the reports from instructors were filled with praise for Il-mok's talent and wisdom. There was only one negative assessment: his weakness for women.

Even the report from the now-dismissed Chu Il-hwan was the same. By the time Chu Il-hwan had realized Il-mok’s true nature, he was already under the Hall Master’s orders to secretly monitor him, so he couldn’t submit a negative evaluation.

"Doesn’t it strike you as odd when a person who appears to be a model student to every instructor acts pathetically only in front of you? Like, say, he's already suspicious of you?"

"......"

Ma Do-yeong was struck speechless.

Looking at the silent Ma Do-yeong, Yu Geuk brought up something seemingly out of nowhere.

“A moment ago, you said you were worried about arousing the Hall Master’s suspicion?”

"...That's right."

"Do you know why I called you here despite that? Because rumors have already spread. Rumors that you are being led around by the nose by your students.”

"!?"

The look of genuine shock on Ma Do-yeong’s face made Yu Geuk do more than just sneer; he shook his head in disappointment.

“I heard that during the morning’s martial arts session, you were completely manipulated by the words of Cadet Il-mok and the other Upper Class students.”

"I wasn't pushed around, I was just..."

"Tsk. How many eyes and ears do you think there are in this cramped Hall of the Demonic Way to see and hear your words and actions, and how many mouths there are to tell me about it? And if I've already heard about it, do you think the Hall Master hasn't?"

"......"

Seeing Ma Do-yeong fall silent again, Yu Geuk clicked his tongue.

"Tsk. Setting aside the matter of handling the Young Master, you can’t even handle your job as an instructor properly. I don't know what that person was thinking when they sent you."

Even in the face of such a humiliating verbal lashing, Ma Do-yeong couldn’t find the words to respond.

As a new instructor, he'd underestimated the difficulty of dealing with kids struggling with puberty and the side effects of Demonic Arts.

***

After getting thoroughly chewed out by Vice Hall Master Yu Geuk, Ma Do-yeong remained in a daze for hours. He finally pulled himself together as evening approached.

It was time for club activities.

‘I need to get my head on straight.’

He couldn't afford another evaluation like that.

Steeling his resolve, Ma Do-yeong arrived at the Meditation Club’s building. Soon after, Il-mok and his three stooges entered.

“We’re in your care, Instructor!”

Il-mok greeted him with a bow and a bright smile as if nothing had happened, then immediately plopped down and entered meditation.

Or rather…

"Snore. Snooore."

He was instantly fast asleep, snoring loudly.

The sight of Il-mok so blatantly dozing off made a familiar vein start throbbing on Ma Do-yeong’s forehead.

‘Alright. He’s practically begging me to kill him.’

Of course, if he killed him outright now, his evaluation would hit rock bottom even if the mission succeeded.

But...

‘Fine. Before I kill this bastard, I need to play my role as an instructor properly so I don't arouse suspicion.’

He needed to act like an instructor.

"Disciple Il-mok."

Ma Do-yeong’s voice, still unable to fully conceal his emotions, was tinged with a faint killing intent.

However, to Il-mok, who had been exposed to the Heavenly Demon’s heavy presence and killing intent multiple times, such weak killing intent didn't even register in his brain.

The ones who were suffering were the other three.

‘Please!’

‘Wake up, Young Master Il-mok!’

‘Save us!’

The three stooges were trembling as they pretended to meditate, their eyes squeezed shut as they nervously monitored the situation.

When Il-mok didn't wake up, Ma Do-yeong infused his voice with internal energy and shouted, "DISCIPLE IL-MOK!"

Il-mok finally snapped his eyes open and looked at Ma Do-yeong with sleepy eyes.

"Wh-what's wrong, Instructor?"

"Disciple Il-mok. This is meditation time, not a nap session."

Il-mok wiped the drool from his lips and chin with the back of his hand and answered, "Haha. A nap? I was meditating, Instructor."

The slick response made Ma Do-yeong squeeze his eyes shut.

Oh, Heavenly Demon, give me strength...

He felt like he might actually go berserk from Qi Deviation at this rate.

From then on, the war of nerves between assassin and target continued.

"Disciple Il-mok."

"I'm not sleeping, Instructor."

“Wipe the drool off your mouth and chin before you lie to me.”

When Ma Do-yeong pointed out, Il-mok wiped the drool with the back of his hand and answered innocently, "Hm? I guess I was a bit hungry."

"......"

While Ma Do-yeong took deep breaths to suppress the Heart Demon that kept rearing its ugly head, Il-mok was getting pissed off in his own right.

‘Why is this guy keeping picking a fight with me since this morning?’

Others might see it as laziness, but napping was a serious matter for Il-mok.

Thanks to his recent, unwelcome surge of enlightenment, controlling the side effects of his arts was becoming increasingly difficult.

His claim that meditation and naps were to stabilize his mind and body wasn't just an empty excuse.

Well, okay, he would have enjoyed meditating and napping even without the side effects, but there was no need to reflect on himself that deeply.

All that mattered was that this damn instructor who wouldn't let him sleep was pissing him off.

‘I really think he’s trying to provoke me into a rampage…’

As his frustration mounted, his suspicions about Ma Do-yeong naturally deepened—a completely subjective suspicion with no regard for objectivity.

‘The problem is, I need to find evidence that even that old geezer Hall Master would accept... Since I'm pretty sure this guy is the culprit anyway, should I just set a trap and frame him?’

Il-mok was starting to resemble the bullies he'd often seen in the modern world’s dramas more and more.