Martial Arts Masochist

The leash grew even tauter.

Cheongwol’s body felt rigid as it stiffened.

“…”

“…”

But even if I gave her time, she didn’t lash out or argue.

She simply endured it quietly, letting out shallow breaths.

She was gradually getting used to this walk, step by step.

…A true heavenly masochist.

That was the only thought I could muster.

As a heavenly masochist, maybe she even liked being forced by me?

Maybe she got pleasure from submitting to a pathetic opponent?

This was information I truly didn’t want to know.

…Anyway, no more deep thoughts.

A massive three-story inn already had crowds packed tightly in front of it.

The young experts had banded together under a new name, so people gathered to celebrate their gathering.

“We’re going.”

I pushed through the crowd, moving forward.

Cheongwol was dragged along behind me.

It felt like forcibly dragging a massive retriever that didn’t want to go home.

As we walked, I tilted my body from time to time to whisper to her.

“One lap only. Just one lap. We have to show your comrades this side of you, right?”

“…Haa… Hoo…”

“You did join the Hidden Dragon Society, didn’t you?”

Nod.

“Yeah. Then we have to show them.”

The lamp’s base is darkest—surely no one would spot us in this endless throng of people.

I’d tested it alone over the past few days.

I’d sung in front of the inn where the young experts gathered, shouted even…

…Not a single person paid attention.

Of course I was anxious, but that belief carried me forward now.

Above all, Cheongwol’s constant torment from the humiliation fueled me too.

If only she weren’t the type who killed people, this would be the perfect masochist reaction I’d dreamed of.

Her legs trembled, shoulders hunched, on the verge of dying from shame, leaning on me…

…yet refusing to stop, a bit rebellious, ultimately submitting.

Beyond heavenly masochist—this was a talented heavenly masochist.

The world is always fair; the deadliest poison comes with the most addictive pleasure.

Whenever those thoughts hit, I’d grip Cheongwol’s hand tight again.

Don’t forget this hand kills people, please.

Meanwhile, the Hidden Dragon Society drew nearer.

The gathering that marked the start for the protagonist’s group.

A few more would join, but they’d become the Murim Alliance’s most vital strike force.

They tilted their cups in a spacious third-floor room, proudly showing off like it was a parade.

They’d wave to the people below now and then, slap shoulders, share hearty laughs.

This was a historic moment in this world.

…Though we were sneaking in to taint it.

“…”

Then I’d think seriously.

Never imagined I’d witness that gathering.

It looked good. Solid people banding together for a greater cause.

Beings too grand for me to approach.

Maybe because I knew the future, they shone even brighter.

That made the world cruel. Only a handful from that Hidden Dragon Society would survive.

Glance.

I checked on Cheongwol.

Thinking she’d killed some of those people down there sent chills deeper.

It felt like holding a beast’s leash.

We drew closer to the Drunken Cloud Pavilion where the Hidden Dragon Society gathered, one step at a time.

At a suitable distance, the first to catch my eye was Dang Soran.

The last time I’d seen her was in my basement.

I still wondered what she thought of me.

Of course, Dang Soran wouldn’t truly send killers after me, but I couldn’t completely dismiss the worry.

…It’ll be fine. Nah, how would she spot me among all these people.

Anyone drinking would focus on conversation, not scanning street onlookers one by one.

Hundreds had gathered here.

Just keep my head low and act natural.

“…Haa… Haa…”

Right now, I needed to focus on Cheongwol more.

No repeating the same mistake.

If I worried about Dang Soran and neglected Cheongwol, it’d end like last time.

Cheongwol seemed to hate distractions from others during play.

“Come on, Wol-ah. Say hello.”

“…Huh?”

“Raise your hand and wave to your comrades. With the leash on your neck—let them know what a pervert you are.”

Cheongwol staggered, leaning into me that instant.

Trembling breaths, hesitation tingling to her fingertips.

She gripped my forearm with her free hand for support.

“Th-that’s…”

“Quickly.”

I knew she wasn’t close to the Hidden Dragon Society.

Greeting them like this would be utter humiliation for her.

“Hm? The reason you left the gathering… tell them it was to wear a leash and go for a walk.”

“Haa… Haa…!”

Cheongwol shrank back.

Showing mercy now would drag us into an ambiguous mood forever. Gotta push right away!

I switched the leash to my left hand.

“Ahh!”

She flailed to keep hold of my right hand, but quieted once I grabbed hers with it.

Then I stood behind her, seizing her right wrist with my now-free right hand.

I slowly raised it.

“What…! M-Master…!”

“I ordered you to get along with the young experts, right? Same now. To get along, you greet them.”

“I’ve… already greeted… plenty—!”

“—Not like this. Not as your true self.”

“Why is… this my true self…!”

She spat whispers roughly at me.

But the strength in her body was frail, so frail.

Emei Sect nuns, who didn’t train external arts like other sects, were just fragile women without their inner energy.

That fragility bewitched me again.

Pleasure surged from forcing her.

Cheongwol’s hand rose awkwardly, fingers curled.

I gripped her wrist and waved it toward the young experts.

“Say, ‘Here I am.’”

Cheongwol couldn’t do a thing, both hands held by me.

Head turned aside to hide, legs subtly folded.

Her hips brushed teasingly against me.

“Greet them, greet.”

Cheongwol’s hand flapped limply.

“Eung… Eut!”

“I said greet quickly? Should I keep doing it?”

“Eut!”

Then, Cheongwol tensed as if snapping.

I nearly jolted back in surprise—

“—Wh-what greeting… do I even say, y-you have to tell me…!”

Cheongwol argued.

“…”

“…”

She and I fell silent for a moment.

Stunned by her sudden action, or by her words.

My heart pounded wildly.

Shit. Heart demon’s coming for me.

That vicious emotion writhed to life again.

Unthinkingly, I commanded.

“…Tell your comrades, ‘Sorry, I’m actually a pervert like this.’”

“Hwik…!”

“Tell them honestly you’re not as noble as they think.”

Cheongwol shuddered violently, then whispered so only I could hear.

“Quickly…! Just trying to end it…!”

Her head whipped around, scanning the gathering crowds nonstop.

After spitting that excuse, Cheongwol hesitated ages, then whispered softly.

“…Sor… ry. Eut…!”

She skipped the rest, mouth just flapping silently.

“…Not as… noble a person… as it seems.”

She finished the end cautiously in a whisper.

Smack!

Then, from shame perhaps, she yanked down the hand I’d raised.

“Haa… Haa…”

She shoved her hand under her veil to cover her face.

Of course, I didn’t miss the timing.

“Good girl.”

I gently touched her shoulder.

Cheongwol flinched at the touch alone.

Her body trembled faintly under my hand.

“Ah…!”

Cheongwol collapsed backward like she’d exhausted all strength.

I supported her—one hand on hers, the other on her shoulder.

Cheongwol’s back pressed against me.

Even that contact didn’t snap her out of it.

“M-Master.”

She whispered in that state.

“I… I can’t walk anymore.”

“Rest a bit, then—”

“—No… not just saying it.”

Cheongwol looked up at me with effort.

“…I really… can’t walk.”

****

Dang Soran stared blankly at the gathered young experts.

A smile hung on her lips, but inwardly, one thought reigned.

…Boring.

The Hidden Dragon Society recruits raised their voices one by one, thrilled at forging new brotherhoods… but Dang Soran felt nothing, no thrill.

She’d come hoping this gathering might stir something, but it was empty as expected.

Her world was always ash-gray.

No likes, so joy eluded her.

No hates, so avoiding things felt pointless.

Life was futile, endlessly futile. Why strive for anything when no happiness waited at the end.

Beyond her room’s walls, she always felt like thrashing in an endless ocean.

Dang Soran smiled at Mokryong.

“…We can’t let our guard down. They just hype us as rising stars—the Central Plains are vast, experts abound…”

…What made him so fervent?

She glanced at Namgung Yeon, the Namgung Family’s only daughter, chatting with Mount Hua Sect’s Baekdam.

“…but I always feel lacking. Haha, no time for sorrow. Someday my sword will tread the king’s path…”

What burdened Namgung Yeon so? What drove her to such desperation?

No idea.

Dang Soran understood nothing.

So she gazed out at the open streets of the holy city.

With no interest in the young experts, she had the leisure.

Would brewing and drinking poison bring back daily stimulation?

Would fighting till blood flowed make her feel alive?

Suddenly, she envied Cheongwol.

Always striving for something—that incomprehensible behavior meant her world was solid, at least.

Cheongwol had shown briefly at this gathering’s start, then left for “business.”

Impossible without one’s own standards.

Then, Dang Soran’s eyes caught a familiar yet plain-robed figure.

…Clothes given only to Tang Clan retainers.

Casual robes always provided for comfort. Practical, easy wear.

Why would a Tang Clan retainer come here?

Curious sight.

Face even veiled.

Beside her, a man held her hand affectionately, like lovers out drinking.

Who?

Any Tang retainers with lovers?

Dang Soran watched absently—

“…Huh?”

Her brows furrowed.

The man beside her, like a lover… felt familiar.

Someone she’d seen.

…No, someone she definitely knew.

Han Seojin.

“…”

Dang Soran needed time to accept he’d come to the holy city, that he was Han Seojin.

But she was certain.

She’d never forget the face that whipped her.

Had he tied a bond with a Tang retainer?

No time for that, surely.

“…Ah.”

Then, a realization struck her mind.

The one who’d told Han Seojin not to approach anymore.

The one who’d said she wouldn’t go to the holy city, then suddenly changed.

The one who’d outpaced the Tang Clan yet arrived late.

The one who’d joined the Hidden Dragon Society briefly, then left for “business.”

“No way.”

Dang Soran whispered unwittingly.

It couldn’t be. Not Cheongwol.