Chapter 915: Tripitaka Master and the Thief of Benevolence and Righteousness (8)

A city on Manchu land—Dunhua.

If you considered that the people living in Manchuria were Jurchens, nomads, the sight of a city spread with thick-walled houses might seem awkward.

But when you remembered that the Jurchens of today were a half-and-half mix of nomads who carried their homes around and settlers who built homes and stayed put, it wasn’t that strange.

And Manchu land was a place where customs had mixed together, too, since its “owner” kept changing—Han, Eastern Tribespeople, Malgal, Khitan, even Mongol rule.

And thus—Dunhua!

Exterior walls reinforced thick with packed earth or brick—except for the windows—were an architectural trait native to cold regions in the first place.

And the fact that houses weren’t large was also a trait of cold-town building.

So the house standing in a corner of Dunhua looked, on the outside, like an ordinary Jurchen home with a plain appearance and nothing particularly special.

But the inside was different.

Walls lined with golden silk, and to bring in a luxurious Central-Plain-style bed that didn’t fit a Jurchen home at all, they had smashed down all the walls and made a single room—an interior dressed up as lavishly as possible with porcelain and mother-of-pearl and more.

And a woman walked into the house and frowned at the glittering display.

“You called? Also, I feel this every time I see it, but wow, it’s vulgar. Like some nouveau riche trying to show off? That vibe—bleh.”

FWHIP—an apple cut through the air in an instant.

A straight, perfectly linear fastball.

THUD.

The woman got nailed by the flying apple and went tumbling.

No—tumbling wasn’t all.

Even if it was “just” an apple, if an expert threw it, it became a terrifying weapon. Her neck twisted at an impossible angle, her head completely flattened to her back as her torso lay there trembling, spasming in little aftershocks.

It was horrific beyond words.

But the young man, propped up on the bed with only his upper body raised, merely furrowed his brow.

“A monster, and you open your mouth without permission.”

Then, clicking his tongue, he added,

“Stop putting on a show and get up. Monster.”

A show?

How could anyone call it a show when her neck was snapped backward and she lay with her own head pinned under her back?

And yet—

“Hup.”

The spasming torso kicked up with a rebound that ran from her legs through her hips, and she rose.

The back of her head was still plastered to her spine, so from the front she was nothing but a headless body.

But only for a moment.

Now she used both arms to lift the completely broken head and, twisting it left and right, seated it back into place.

CRACK. CRRK.

The sound of bones mating.

“Ah. Ah. Ah? Aaaah—this is a problem, you know? Even if I don’t die, it still hurts?”

“A monster that doesn’t even understand pain.”

“It’s my heart that hurts, Demon King.”

“Call me Demon Emperor, monster.”

“Wow. He calls himself Demon Emperor out loud—‘Demon King, sir,’ even. Aren’t you embarrassed? Isn’t that the kind of delusion only little kids have? I’m the Heart-Eating Demon Emperor. The great Heart-Eating Demon Emperor. One of my achievements is eating people. Pfft.”

At that, the Heart-Eating Demon King immediately reached toward the small side table beside the bed.

The woman shrieked.

“Wait! If I die one more time, I’ll have to go see my master, you know? You’re going to sit around again without a messenger? Well, if that’s what you want.”

She flung both arms wide.

“Then I’ll die one more time—vacation, and I get to see my master’s face. Come on, I’m ready to die!”

The Heart-Eating Demon King froze.

“You damned monster.”

“That monster at least doesn’t eat their own kind, though, so I guess I’ll just be a monster. Also.”

The woman grinned, delighted.

“I’m saying this because you can’t kill me anyway, but my master said human desire comes from what you lack the most. So the reason you’re so obsessed with dignity and luxury is because, from the root, you’re just a particularly lowly, beggar-bastard—oh, can you hold that in?”

The Heart-Eating Demon King silently ground his teeth.

A monster that didn’t die easily wasn’t immortal. If he handled her too roughly, she’d go back to her master and need repairs.

And she was a monster who could use a Heaven-Sound Link to leap ten thousand li and exchange voice transmissions—so even if she annoyed him, he couldn’t simply dispose of her.

Once you got used to the Heaven-Sound Link, you could no longer be satisfied with slow, plodding human messengers.

That crafty monster knew it, too, so when her spare life was hanging by a thread, she scratched at him all the more viciously.

“Do you think I don’t know your scheme? And that corpse-zombie bitch subtly provoking you monsters to slow-walk your work?”

“Heehee. Should you really talk like that about the benefactor of your precious daughter? You eat people and don’t know what ‘gratitude’ even is, and yet it’s monster, monster, monster every other word—makes the monster listening feel bad, heehee.”

She curled her mouth into a nasty, unpleasant smile.

The Heart-Eating Demon King surged with rage—then barely forced it down.

At some point, the monster’s level of provocation had started pushing the line hard, and it was probably since his daughter had suffered at the hands of that Thousand-Autumn Sword he wanted torn to pieces.

She seemed to think she owed his master a great debt. That was why he tolerated the corpse-zombie bitch’s ambiguous attitude—acting obedient while being quietly uncooperative.

If it weren’t for that, Society Master or not, he would’ve cut down that slippery woman long ago.

“Enough. Where’s the princess? Is that Sword Demon bastard still not back?”

Then the woman began muttering—endlessly, talking to herself.

“Ah. Wait a second. Sayoon, Sayoon, can you hear me? If you can, will you shake a carrot?”

“No carrot? Then what do you have? Something—jerky? Whoa, tiger jerky? Delicious—ah, there isn’t any...”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m always barely living. Still, I live because we have our youngest, yeah. So what about Sword Demon? Did he catch the princess?”

“Ah, I see. That’s not the important part. So, hee, I miss you too. Yeah. But that’s okay—aaah! Hehe, I’ll do that.”

The woman—who’d been chattering alone like someone possessed—let her bright smile drop.

What replaced it was a sneering, unpleasant grin.

She spoke.

“Demon King, Sword Demon says: ahem, ahem—ahh. ‘Something personally important came up. Sorry, but please let Brother Yu handle the princess.’”

The Heart-Eating Demon King ground his teeth—CRUNCH.

“Monster bitch. You act so cocky with me, but you’re polite as can be to that Sword Demon bastard?”

“Oh, that’s what makes you mad? But, you know—this monster bitch has no manners, but Sayoon’s close older sister is polite.”

“How ridiculous. You think he’s kind even to monsters like you, but you’re mistaken. He’s originally a man who has interest in no one but himself—cold to a fault, selfish to the bone. He just finds it convenient to pretend to be kind, so he acts like it.”

“Even pretending is something, isn’t it? Demon King, could you at least pretend?”

“Why would I? Seducing with kindness is what people do when they lack power. A true strong person has no need to watch other people’s faces.”

“Oh? But you watch Society Master’s face.”

A vein bulged in the Heart-Eating Demon King’s forehead.

A voice thick with poison spilled out.

“Monster bitch. The only reason I keep you alive is because you’re convenient—”

“By the way, Sword Demon says that ‘personally important business’ is asking the Heavenly Flower Sword to teach him martial arts? He says the Heavenly Flower Sword is heading toward Changbai Mountain.”

The woman cut him off.

“So are you going to go get revenge on that Heavenly Flower Sword you hate, or are you going to follow Society Master’s orders and deal with the princess?”

The Heart-Eating Demon King clenched his teeth so hard they squealed.

*****

The great tiger was the Mountain Lord of Sangtae Pass.

Of course, the great tiger did not recognize the fact that it was called a Mountain Lord, nor did it recognize the fact that its territory was called Sangtae Pass by its prey.

To a beast, the only important things were these:

That the nearby mountain slopes were its territory.

And that the prey living in a cluster down below were truly vicious creatures.

So unless it was very hungry, the great tiger rarely went down as far as the prey’s den below.

Because if it waited around the bare, treeless, grassless stretches of the mountain slope, there were times when a lone prey would pass by.

Just like now.

The great tiger lit its eyes on the tree.

Prey climbing up from below.

Three—no, four vicious two-legged ones, and one delicious four-legged one.

The great tiger’s gaze settled on the four-legged one.

The vicious ones were numerous, good for filling the belly, but their organs stank and didn’t taste very good.

But the organs of the four-legged one were so fantastic your tail would shoot straight up.

The crafty great tiger lowered its body, inch by inch.

I’ll let the two-legged ones go breed, and feast on the four-legged one.

With that expectation, the great tiger drooled thick spit in strings.

And as the prey drew nearer—

The great tiger leapt down in a fluid motion, opened its mouth wide, and blasted out a thunderous breath.

Then, like always, the two-legged ones would flee in terror, and the four-legged one would freeze in shock—

Or so it thought.

Of course, the world didn’t move according to a mere beast’s expectations.

“Huh? What, another tiger? Why are there so many damn tigers?”

“Will no wild boar or water deer appear? Tiger tastes bad.”

“Water deer, huh. That one tasted pretty good.”

—PRRRRRT.

The prey made a calm sound.

The great tiger was dumbfounded.

The two-legged prey sometimes did this, but it had never been ignored by a four-legged one.

Because the four-legged one—Lu Bu—was not afraid of a tiger at all.

A warhorse trained for battle was a breed rebuilt by killing off its original timid instincts, and Lu Bu was especially clever among them.

The owner’s rank was far higher than a tiger’s, and when it carried the owner, it could be said to share the owner’s rank.

Stung in its pride, the great tiger rumbled out a predator’s low-frequency threat.

GRRRRRR...!

A huge tiger baring yellowed teeth and snarling—something that would make an ordinary person piss themselves without meaning to—

But Qing was an expert.

She hadn’t feared a tiger even back when she was weak—

“Should I do it? Or will you, Elder?”

“The blade gets dirty. Once the fat clings, it takes an age just to wipe it off.”

“Then it can’t be helped. Mm.”

DEEEENG...!

With that, the sound of a gigantic temple bell.

It was the last sound the tiger heard alive.

And then?

A tiger dies and leaves its hide.

A tiger dies and leaves its meat, too.

The slash-and-burn settlers around here were also in a state of near starvation, so they were catching and handing over every tiger they saw.

But tiger meat tasted bad...

The hungry slash-and-burn settlers ate the meat until their bellies were full, and the hide became the robes of the great Tripitaka Master, draped over her shoulders.

“[I am the Great Tiger King Seomun Cheong! The tears of you pitiful ones called me, so I will fill you as full as those tears! All monsters under heaven, follow this Tripitaka Master!]”

The Monster King hid her face and wore a lion pelt, lifting her blade high.

And all the monsters sprang out, chanting her name as they followed behind her.

“[WAAAH! GREAT TIGER KING! GREAT TIGER KING!]” “[DIPPING PASTE! DIPPING PASTE!]” “[You sons of bitches, I’ll kill you all!]”

If they’d just picked either Great Tiger King or Tripitaka, it wouldn’t be confusing, but Great Tiger King was her and Tripitaka was her, and that was Seomun Cheong.

Because that was the answer the Pungcheong Village scholar had wanted.

“[I beg you—if so, could you also punish the corrupt officials of the local offices in this whole area?]”

In truth, from the court’s standpoint, it was beneficial if local magistrates and local clerks died.

The faction the court considered the biggest headache and wanted to crush right now was the local gentry—meaning the local clerks.

What the court feared most were the middle people and local clerks who had gained great power by taking advantage of the court’s weakened grip after the Imjin War.

So these days, when local clerks got beaten to death by tenant farmers, the court tended to pretend it didn’t know.

The problem was the local magistrates.

By national law, they should be put to severe, extreme punishment—but that was that, and profit was profit.

Eight or nine out of ten of the dispatched magistrates were the kind who bought their posts with money and grew even more brutal to get their investment back.

In other words, if a local magistrate died early, you could take money and sell that seat again!

For the real powers at court, that was quite a welcome thing.

But—

Joseon, even after the Imjin War, was still short on people, still in a state where every single person was precious.

So if you were going to make a move, you had to make it big.

You could burn a single county’s popular uprising to the roots and use it as an example—

But crushing multiple counties, and multiple border counties at that, would be a truly burdensome thing.

Then?

“Got it.”

For that reason—

A ghost is wandering Joseon.

A ghost named Seomun Cheong.

To hunt Joseon’s corrupt officials—district heads and local clerks and landholding landlords who drink the blood of the people—that ghost made a pact with the masses and moved in the shadows.

To punish corrupt officials, and... omitted.