Chapter 209: Hero (2)

Late in the evening.

Wi Jin-hak left the Demon-Teaching Pavilion and headed toward the Heavenly Demon Palace to report on the progress of the educational reforms.

"I greet the Lord of Ten Thousand Demons."

As Wi Jin-hak paid his respects to his Master with utmost reverence, the Heavenly Demon nodded with a pleased smile spreading across his face.

"Hahaha. You may rise."

Wi Jin-hak noticed something different today. The Heavenly Demon was already known for being a benevolent master to his disciples, but today he seemed particularly soft and warm.

"Did something good happen, Master?"

"A letter has come from our youngest."

"Youngest did?"

Just hearing the word 'youngest' was enough to bring a smile to Wi Jin-hak's face as well.

"Hahaha. I can't wait to hear what brilliant thing our youngest has pulled off this time, Master."

"Hoho. You should be. I was quite surprised myself after reading the letter."

While the two brothers smiled warmly at each other...

'Great. What fresh hell is the Eight Young Master about to unleash on us now?'

Only the Hiiden Guard Pavilion Master maintained his expressionless face, hiding his worries beneath it.

Those two were in positions of authority, so naturally they'd find Il-mok's various changes impressive and clever.

But to the people who actually had to do the work, that kid's mouth was a one-way ticket to disaster.

The Demon-Teaching Pavilion might be suffering the worst, but everywhere else was equally tormented by the fires Il-mok had lit.

Starting with the Black Tortoise Corps, who now live full-time at Peach Blossom Ridge, caring for dementia patients due to a sudden change in orders, to the various martial corps running back and forth to Xinjiang nonstop to escort children travelling between the academy and their hometowns.

And because those squads were busy playing bodyguard, the ones left behind were understaffed and had to run patrols all day around without rest.

On top of that, there were the sorcerers from the An Family and Eight Trigrams Hall who wandered Xinjiang all day searching for water veins for some "Make Our Xinjiang Green" project or whatever it was called.

Basically, every single department that had people reassigned to these new projects was getting swamped.

Thankfully, the Hidden Guard Pavilion was spared from the disaster since its job was to guard the Heavenly Demon.

He found it amusing that the people who used to look down on the Hidden Guard Pavilion for doing menial work were now dying for a transfer.

And a letter from the architect of all this chaos had just landed in the Heavenly Demon's hands.

"Hoho. Our youngest is spreading word of our cult in Gulang County under the name of Maitreya Luminous Cult and is recruiting new followers."

"A fake name?"

Wi Jin-hak, who had been smiling gently, asked back with a somewhat displeased tone.

"No matter how brilliant our youngest may be, to hide the name of our great Divine Cult... I fear this may not be the proper course of action, Master."

To Wi Jin-hak's criticism, the Heavenly Demon relayed the contents of the letter.

"Think about it like this. When one first encounters unfamiliar food from a foreign land, isn't it natural to be wary of it? Therefore, Il-mok plans to disguise it as food familiar to the Central Plains people, allowing them to adapt to our teachings."

It was the so-called "food theory" that Il-mok had used to persuade Dam-bin and Jin Hayeon.

The Heavenly Demon also explained the methods Il-mok had employed for his proselytizing activities.

He explained the classic lure of “Have you heard about the Way?” complete with honey traps and even punishing evildoers to save the common people.

"Master, shouldn't we inform all the other Central Plains branches about these proselytizing methods?"

Completely blown away by these tactics he'd never even considered, Wi Jin-hak suggested this, and the Heavenly Demon nodded with a satisfied expression.

"That is my intention. However, there is an order to things. Since our youngest is trying to take control of Gansu Province starting with Lanzhou, we should first send some reinforcement there."

"He's already targeting Lanzhou? How very like our youngest."

The two wore expressions of anticipation, wondering how their youngest would seize Lanzhou and what methods he'd use for his proselytizing activities.

***

Several days later.

A few days later, a few dozen hand-picked cult members secretly set off from Xinjiang, heading for Gansu.

The fact that Il-mok was active in Gansu Province was top secret known only to the Heavenly Demon and a few key figures. As far as the people of the cult know, Il-mok was sent away from the main headquarters on a special mission assigned by the Heavenly Demon.

This was just common sense. Just as the cult has spies on the Central Plains, so does the Murim Alliance on the cult.

And just as the Heavenly Demon expected, spies planted by the Murim Alliance were active throughout Xinjiang.

Some of them were just lying low and watching, as usual.

"Everyone seems to have much brighter expressions these days."

But some moved more actively.

"Well, isn't it all thanks to the Eighth Young Master?"

When a middle-aged man said this with a bright smile, the Murim Alliance spy who had initiated the conversation asked while managing his expression.

"Oh, really? Hahaha. He's done a lot for us, has he?"

"He sure has! Wells have been built in the village so we don't have to worry about dying of thirst, and the children are even learning to read! What more could you ask for? Hahaha."

"He sounds like a real saint, too bad I've never had the chance to see him myself."

"Oh, that's too bad. I've at least seen him from a distance."

Hearing that, the spy's eyes flashed.

These few proactive Murim Alliance spies were operating under special orders from the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master.

They had received special orders to scrape up any information about the Eighth Young Master they could find.

"Do you think you could... describe him for me? You know, in case I run into him. I'd want to recognize him so I can thank him properly."

"Hahaha! For a reason like that? Of course! Happy to help."

Little chats like this were happening all over Xinjiang, and by compiling the gathered information, the spies succeeded in creating a facial composite of the Eighth Young Master.

The spies looked at the completed composite with serious expressions.

"His mouth is bold, always carrying a hearty and refreshing laugh. His skin is like white jade, his jaw is as sharp as a blade, and his nose bridge is as prominent as Mount Tai. And above all, his eyes are full of intelligence and contain the spirit of a hero that can stop you dead in your tracks."

If one were to describe in words the composite they had completed, it would be roughly this face.

Anyone who knew Il-mok's actual face would have made a bizarre face upon seeing that composite.

Let's talk about Il-mok's eyes. To put it nicely, he had a pair of indifferent eyes. To put it bluntly, they are a pair of completely vacant eyes of a burnt-out middle-aged manager of a black company. Basically, he has dead-fish eyes.

His jaw was also "reasonably" sharp, but not blade-like as depicted in the composite, and his nose was reasonably high, but not like Mount Tai.

Moreover, he wasn't the type to laugh boldly in the first place, so his mouth didn't look like that either.

Eyes, nose, mouth, face shape... every part was almost right, but just a little bit off.

And when you added up all those "little bit offs," you got a completely different person.

If you had to judge Il-mok's face, it was decent-looking enough to be considered reasonably handsome.

But thanks to those dead fish eyes, he came across less like a legendary hero and more like the handsome slacker who lives down the street.

The reason for this epic mistake was actually pretty simple.

People tend to see what they want to see.

Those who had actually seen Il-mok's face had distorted their own memories.

They were so blown away by all the amazing things he'd done that they basically saw him through real-life rose-colored glasses.

'Our beloved Eighth Young Master can't possibly be that plain!'

'Exactly! His eyes sparkle with genius!'

And that's how a genius sparkle he never had got permanently carved onto his face in their minds.

On top of that, it is the nature of a rumor to double in size in proportion to the number of people it passes through.

Since there were so many stories about the amazing things he'd done, his legend was constantly being exaggerated and retold all over the province.

"He must be a heroic man."

At this point, the legend of Il-mok's face had gotten so out of control that a fortune teller would've taken one look, hit the floor, and started yelling, "All hail the future Emperor!"

"But seriously, can a person even look like this?"

Naturally, the spies were skeptical at first; the description was downright ridiculous.

"But everyone is telling the exact same story! It's not just one or two guys. The description is almost identical everywhere we go. So even if the sketch isn't perfect, the real deal must be pretty damn close."

Since the story was the same everywhere, the spies had to accept it as fact.

"Well. It's definitely a memorable face. The moment we encounter him, there's no way we won't recognize that face."

"I can't believe a piece of scum from the Demonic Cult looks like that."

Flames of jealousy and anger burned in the spies' eyes at this incredible face that would probably have women lining up just from walking down the street.

"A demonic cultist with a face like that must definitely be a womanizer!"

"We have to report this to the Pavilion Master before this scum hurts innocent women!"

"That's right! Once the Pavilion Master knows, he'll surely take some action!"

And so the spies felt a bizarre calling to save the world.

***

Several days later.

In a little manor somewhere in Lanzhou.

A man born with the face of a hero that would never exist again in this world woke from sleep.

"Huaaaam."

The hero who woke with a long yawn raised his upper body along with a stretch.

And then he just sat there, staring into space with his usual blank expression.

'Meh. Maybe I'll just go back to sleep.'

Il-mok fell into the kind of slacker-like contemplation that suited his gaze.

It had been just over twenty days since the gathering where he had exchanged questions and answers with the Beggars Gang’s branch leader.

Il-mok had nothing particular to do.

To be precise, there were many miscellaneous tasks, but others were handling those. There was simply nothing that required Il-mok's direct intervention.

A few days after giving the beggars work and wages, other beggars who had initially refused began joining the Maitreya Luminous Cult one by one.

And now, twenty days later, most of the beggars in Lanzhou were working construction at the old Heavenly Orchid Society's estate.

The only holdouts were the hardcore Beggars Gang loyalists and those who were too sick or disabled to do physical work.

In any case, thanks to the additional beggars joining, he'd heard a few days ago that construction speed had doubled.

With all the regular beggars who used to gather information while begging completely gone, it had become quite difficult for the Beggars Gang members to gather intelligence in Lanzhou.

On top of that, the Hao Clan seemed to have taken his warning to heart and was keeping its head down.

'Well, there's no way to stop rumors spreading among the people of Lanzhou, so I'll let that slide.'

Since they held gatherings once every ten days, it was inevitable that rumors would gradually spread.

And thanks to those rumors, the number of people attending each gathering kept increasing.

You'd think that would be a management nightmare, but Il-mok didn't seem to care.

‘The reinforcement should be here soon. I'll be busy when that time comes, so I should rest well today.'

Just as he finished rationalizing his nap and was about to lie back down, a voice came from outside.

"Are you awake, Young Master?"

"Young Master, people from the main headquarters have arrived."

Realizing that today was that day, Il-mok let out a deep sigh.

"There goes my good day."

With an extremely annoyed expression, Il-mok got out of bed and began organizing his thoughts while yawning again.

He was contemplating how to put the people from the main headquarters to work, though it wasn't a particularly deep contemplation.

He'd already worked out the general framework in his head.

The sooner he could dump the work on them, the sooner he could return to peace.

"Tell only the representatives to enter."

Shortly after Il-mok's order, the door opened and several people entered the hall.

Il-mok unconsciously sighed when he spotted a familiar face among them.

"I am pleased to see you again, Young Master!"

A man who entered the hall carrying ink, brush, and paper as if they were part of his body.

'Ugh. Why do the crazy bastards keep multiplying?'

It was none other than Physician Seo Jae-pil.