Chapter 141

Chapter 141: Those Who Have Forgotten the Past, Those Who Cannot Forget (1)

Cho Yeon-woon was frozen stiff.

The ever-present smile had vanished from his face, replaced by a rigid, strained expression.

"Haha!"

An awkward laugh escaped his lips. The disheveled, wild-haired middle-aged man standing before him furrowed his brow slightly.

"Is something funny?"

"No."

With that answer, Cho Yeon-woon lowered his head.

Though there was nothing in all the world that Cho Yeon-woon feared, there was one exception—the man standing before him.

The middle-aged man was extraordinary in every respect. His hair was tangled and matted like a bird's nest, his tattered robes appeared to have been stitched together a hundred times over, and at his waist hung a massive broadsword. Not a single thing about him was ordinary.

Most striking of all were his eyes, barely visible beneath that wild tangle of hair.

Despite being well into middle age, his gaze burned with vigor and confidence. Perhaps that was why he appeared far younger than his years.

The man's name was Jang Il-san.

He was a man who had once shaken the martial world with the great epithet "Demonic Slaying Divine Blade."

He was the Sect Leader of the Baekjeon Sect, the master of the Baekjeon Victory Banner, and Cho Yeon-woon's Master.

Though Cho Yeon-woon feared nothing under heaven, before his Master Jang Il-san, he could not so much as straighten his back.

Jang Il-san regarded Cho Yeon-woon with a look of exasperation. Unable to bear that piercing gaze, Cho Yeon-woon lowered his head to avoid it.

"Tch! Fine, let me hear it then. So the Fist Demon is your friend, is that it?"

"Yes!"

"The man the Murim Alliance has publicly declared an enemy—is your friend?"

"Yes!"

"Heavens above!"

At Cho Yeon-woon's brazen response, Jang Il-san clicked his tongue in disbelief.

"I gave you orders to track down the Demonic Cult, and you go and befriend a demon?"

"It just happened that way, Master."

"You fool!"

"I'm sorry."

"Never mind. If you've already become friends, what's the use of saying more? But remember this one thing: once you give your heart to someone, give your all in that bond. So you never have regrets."

"I will keep that in mind."

A smile rose to Cho Yeon-woon's lips. At that, Jang Il-san struck him on the head with his massive fist.

Thud!

"Ow! Master, what if my head gets even dumber from that?"

"As if it could get any dumber!"

"Ugh!"

Cho Yeon-woon's face crumpled like a sheet of paper.

Jang Il-san snorted at the sight. But only for a moment—soon the smile vanished entirely from his face.

Only then did Cho Yeon-woon wipe the playfulness from his expression and look at his Master.

Until now, it had been the pleasantries of a master and disciple reuniting. But from this point forward, it was time for a serious conversation.

"You will be busy from now on."

"I know."

"There is much you must do."

"I am prepared."

Jang Il-san's eyes sharpened.

"The Demonic Cult is strong."

"Yes!"

"They are stronger than you can imagine. Thirty years ago, we were fortunate enough to defeat them, but do not expect such fortune to follow us again."

A chill clung to Jang Il-san's voice.

He could have rested easy as Sect Leader of a single sect, but Jang Il-san had not wasted a single day, devoting himself wholly to training.

It was because he believed the Demonic Cult would one day return.

"Now that the Demonic Cult has appeared again, the world will certainly be plunged into chaos. Many will die and be wounded."

"But we defeated them thirty years ago. We can defeat them again this time."

"Back then, we were merely lucky."

"Huh?"

Doubt flickered across Cho Yeon-woon's face.

Jang Il-san had stood on the front lines in the war against the Demonic Cult thirty years ago. He had shed more blood than anyone and slaughtered countless demons.

His blade had never known a dry day, and he had fought brutal battles day after day.

It was from such trials that he earned the epithet Demonic Slaying Divine Blade.

The martial artists who followed him had founded what was now the Baekjeon Sect.

That Jang Il-san should fear the Demonic Cult so was, at first glance, difficult to understand.

Come to think of it, Jang Il-san had always been this way.

He had always feared the Demonic Cult and worked to keep them in check. Sometimes his wariness went too far. Cho Yeon-woon had often wondered at his Master's behavior.

For the Master he knew was a man who needed fear nothing.

Jang Il-san placed both hands on Cho Yeon-woon's shoulders.

"Yeon-woon."

"Yes! Master."

"You must become stronger."

"What?"

"Stronger still, so that you may protect the Baekjeon Victory Banner."

"I understand."

Cho Yeon-woon nodded vigorously.

Jang Il-san turned away, muttering to himself.

"If only the Grim Reaper would lend his aid again this time…"

"Grim Reaper?"

Cho Yeon-woon tilted his head, having never heard the word before. But Jang Il-san had already stepped outside.

Cho Yeon-woon tilted his head in confusion.

"Who is the Grim Reaper?"

***

Swish! Swish!

Before Bang Jin-bo's eyes, the massive carcass of a slaughtered ox was being expertly dismantled. He watched intently as the animal was cut into neat, ready-to-eat portions.

The sight of slaughtering a living ox and pig was quite shocking. But that could not extinguish Bang Jin-bo's curiosity about cooking.

He nodded as he studied the meat being separated by cut.

"So that's how you debone it. Right! Twist it like that, cut the tendons, and the bones come right out."

The nearby woodsmen laughed at the sight of Bang Jin-bo talking to himself and cheering along.

"Haha! Is butchering an ox that fascinating?"

"Heh heh! I love cooking, you see."

"Then you must be a good cook too?"

"A little."

"Is that so?"

The eyes of the woodsman who had spoken to him lit up.

Bang Jin-bo still carried a bundle of crackers on his back. The sight of him was rather comical, yet also strangely earnest.

"Hey!"

The woodsman suddenly called to his companion who was butchering the ox.

"What?"

"Lend this fellow a knife."

"What do you mean?"

"This chubby fellow wants to learn deboning and meat trimming, it seems."

"Why would anyone learn that?"

"Stop talking and lend him a knife. It's not that hard."

"Fine."

At his friend's prodding, the middle-aged man nodded.

"Come here, chubby."

"Yes!"

Bang Jin-bo's face lit up as he hurried over.

"Tch! Is he really that excited? What's so great about cutting meat?"

The watching woodsmen shook their heads. But Bang Jin-bo paid them no mind.

"What should I do first?"

"Let's start with breaking down the carcass. Pick up this big cleaver."

"Yes!"

Bang Jin-bo lifted the broad cleaver.

It was so finely sharpened that the blade gleamed with a cold blue light.

"Be careful. If you handle it wrong, you could chop off your own fingers."

"Got it!"

"Now drive the blade between the breastbone here. Then give it a slight twist…"

Bang Jin-bo moved the cleaver exactly as the man instructed.

Shck! Shck!

The sound of meat being cut rang out with an almost cheerful cadence.

"Good! Now cut the tendons from there."

"Like this?"

"That's right! Then turn it the other way and slide it between the bones. Now apply pressure…"

Pop!

One of the ribs supporting the ox's ribcage sprang free.

"That's it! Well done."

At the man's praise, Bang Jin-bo smiled.

Swish! Swish!

With each stroke of the cleaver, the meat was separated into perfect, ready-to-cook portions.

"That's the loin. It clings to the inside of the ribs—the flesh is tender and delicious. Remember it well."

"Yes!"

"Next is the chuck. The meat is thick, so the blade won't go in easily. Be especially careful."

"Don't worry."

"That's right, push the blade in and follow the line of the spine. Carefully…"

Bang Jin-bo nodded, pouring all his concentration into the blade.

Swish! Swish!

His entire body was soon drenched in sweat.

Breaking down an enormous ox was by no means easy work. His hands trembled, and his breathing grew labored.

But Bang Jin-bo did not stop.

Before long, a bright smile had settled on his face. The woodsmen murmured among themselves at the sight.

"Look at that one. He's cutting bloody meat and he's that happy about it?"

"Indeed! He's even smiling."

Whatever they said, Bang Jin-bo focused every nerve on his fingertips as he carved the meat.

Clang!

At last, when he set down the cleaver, the great ox lay disassembled into neat, ready-to-cook portions.

He had broken down the entire ox by himself.

"Whew!"

Bang Jin-bo wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

His entire body was exhausted to the point where he could barely stand, but his chest swelled with the satisfaction of having accomplished something great.

"Well done. Good work."

The man who had taught him to butcher clapped him on the shoulder.

"Heh heh!"

"You're something else."

"Do you cook as well, sir?"

"Cooking—that's for the women."

No sooner had he spoken than the waiting women nearby began packing the cut meat into baskets.

"What, do you want to cook too?"

"Yes!"

"I thought as much. Go on after those women."

"Is that really alright?"

"As if I could stop you."

"Heh heh!"

"Go on! They saw how you handled that meat, so they won't object."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"Thanks to you, I learned a great skill. I won't forget it, and I'll make good use of it."

"What great skill. Now go on."

"Yes!"

Bang Jin-bo bowed deeply to the man and followed the women.

His heart was pounding with excitement.

'Heh heh! What kind of dishes will they make at the mountain stronghold?'

The mere thought of learning new recipes filled Bang Jin-bo with happiness.

"Come with us."

"Ho ho ho!"

The women surrounded Bang Jin-bo, laughing warmly.

The woodsmen watched and muttered.

"Is it really that great?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, I'm looking forward to it. What kind of dinner will he make tonight?"

They were laughing and chatting when suddenly a bird flew in over the mountain stronghold.

"Oh, it's a messenger pigeon."

It was a messenger pigeon from the village at the foot of the mountain.

The pigeon flew straight to Hwang Gyeong-mun's quarters.