Martial Arts Masochist

“Clan Leader.”

Early in the morning, Dang Jeokcheon stood before an unbelievable sight.

The one who had come to see him was Dang Soran.

His daughter, who had shown up without warning and bowed her head.

And the clear, sharp light in her eyes left him speechless.

He could only stare blankly at how much she had changed overnight.

“For the time being… I’m sorry for causing you worry.”

“S-Soran.”

“From today onward, this girl will try to pull herself together again.”

Unknowingly, Dang Jeokcheon felt tears welling up in his eyes.

Over the past year, how desperately he had longed for this moment.

How fervently he had prayed for his daughter to overcome her heart demon.

He couldn’t yet say she had fully conquered it, but he could tell she had taken her first step.

“Y-Yes. Yes…!”

Dang Jeokcheon stammered as he reached out a hand.

“Soran, if there’s anything you want, tell me. Anything at all.”

“I believe I received a great deal of help from the Hidden Dragon Society. When I put my heads together with the later generation talents and talked it out… I realized just how trivial my worries had been. It’s all thanks to you, Clan Leader.”

“No! What have I done! It’s all because you’re so remarkable.”

Dang Soran flashed a bright smile.

The very smile she had worn as a child, when she first learned to speak and first wrote a character.

Seeing that smile nearly broke Dang Jeokcheon.

Soon, Dang Soran spoke.

“Clan Leader. This girl would like to go back to Mount Emei.”

“…Mount Emei?”

“Yes. I can’t stop worrying about why Cheongwol had to rush back there…”

“…By all means!”

Anything was better than her holing up in her room and crying.

Dang Jeokcheon nodded.

“Go whenever you like, Soran.”

“Thank you.”

Dang Soran smiled once more.

“…Daddy.”

“Urk!”

Dang Jeokcheon clutched at his heart and collapsed.

It had been nearly ten years since she last called him Daddy.

****

Dang Soran returned to her empty room.

She lay on the bed for a moment, imagining her morning.

.

.

.

Gently fluttering eyelids.

How long had it been since she’d opened her eyes feeling this peaceful?

Every day, an inexplicable gloom had gnawed at her, but not today.

How had she fallen asleep yesterday?

Why am I in this bed…

Flip!

Dang Soran realized she had cried herself to sleep the night before and sat up.

“Ah!”

In that moment, a throbbing pain shot through her buttocks.

Yesterday suddenly felt all too real.

Yesterday, she had faced Han Seojin’s tremendous violence.

She glanced around.

Where on earth had that man gone, the one who had exuded such an intense presence?

“Y-Young Master?”

No response.

“Young Master?”

She raised her voice, wondering if he was downstairs, but there was still no sound.

“…Haa.”

The strength drained from her body.

She sprawled out on the bed again like a starfish.

He’s gone. While I was asleep.

“…”

Somehow, it felt empty.

Like waking up in the middle of the night as a child to find her parents not beside her.

Of course, Dang Soran was old enough now to handle such emotions without issue.

…But perhaps she still hadn’t grown up fully, because she couldn’t help the lingering regret.

“…Ha.”

She let out a hollow chuckle.

Beaten so mercilessly, furious at the time, and now here she was looking for Han Seojin.

Shedding tears like a child over just a few words of praise.

“…”

But on the other hand, she knew those emotions hadn’t been fake.

It felt like someone had slapped her cheeks for her when she wanted to cry.

Perhaps she had been waiting a long time for someone to draw out what she had been suppressing.

Someone who would scold her when she deserved it and acknowledge her when she did well.

That it was the man Cheongwol had acknowledged probably made it pierce her heart even deeper.

And yet, not a single trace of him remained in the room.

He had vanished like a mirage.

She wondered if yesterday had been a dream.

But the pain in her buttocks told her otherwise.

“…”

Carefully, Dang Soran knelt on the bed and lifted her clothes.

Exposing her pale white buttocks fully.

“…Wow.”

Red marks stood out clearly on her white skin.

Traces Han Seojin had left on her body.

Thump… thump… thump…

Just looking at them made her heart race again.

Precious traces left on her esteemed body by the Leather Room’s owner.

Could there be a more contradictory mark in the world?

Yet strangely, Dang Soran didn’t find the marks ugly.

Somehow… they seemed beautiful.

Even though they were marks on her own body, they were pretty.

She couldn’t shake the thought that they resembled a painting.

In her gray world, the only traces Han Seojin had left burned with a vivid red glow.

“Hoo…”

Dang Soran readjusted her clothes and lay back on the bed.

…She had thought it even when he had whipped the soles of her feet, but had she become twisted?

Was she a pervert? Finding beauty in marks on her buttocks.

…But where had Han Seojin gone?

Back to Mount Emei?

“…He couldn’t even stay until morning.”

She murmured.

And was startled by her own words.

Had she ever so clearly wished for something on her own terms like this?

Not coveting what belonged to someone else, but a whisper born from her own desire.

However, judging by his overbearing attitude and violent nature, he didn’t seem like someone who could be bound that way.

Dang Soran had always been able to impose her will on others, but with Han Seojin, it oddly felt wrong to try.

Cheongwol had been dealing with a man like this.

She had known a man like this all by herself.

Dang Soran lay on the bed for a long while before adjusting her posture.

Holed up in this room wouldn’t let her meet Han Seojin.

She wasn’t depressed today; in fact, she felt energized.

Today, she would talk with her father for the first time in a while.

…And then head to Mount Emei.

It wouldn’t be difficult. Whenever she truly wanted something, it always came to pass.

“Ah!”

And when she went, she’d need to prepare a leather whip.

If she asked the elders, they could whip one up in the Tang Clan workshops—top quality, no problem.

****

“…For real?”

I felt breathless at the unbelievable proposal.

This was the basement of Drunken Cloud Pavilion, the Hao Gate Sichuan branch.

Beside me, the man who had kicked me out a few days ago claiming I had no Tang token was now receiving punishment.

‘Hey, you bastard! Keep your head straight!’

‘I’m sorry!’

The sight of the once-fine man crawling on the floor like a dog was satisfying enough, but the scene before my eyes now carried far more weight than petty revenge.

“Of course.”

Ahead of me, Wi Chang sat in a deferential posture, explaining politely.

In front stretched a massive map of the central plains.

It was covered in dense annotations.

Place names everywhere, the sects dwelling around them.

Not just righteous or evil factions, but hidden masters, known spirit beast sightings, and even locations of divine weapons.

The pinnacle of the Hao Gate’s compiled intelligence.

Just this alone showed how special the treatment I was receiving was.

Wi Chang said.

“Simply choose a location, and we’ll escort you there anytime.”

…Had I hit the jackpot?

My heart pounded.

As expected, seeing it on a map was intuitive.

Based on my memories, where would be destroyed, where could avoid disaster.

I racked my brain hard, searching for information.

So, pointing at a spot on this map meant I could go straight there.

Meaning Cheongwol and Dang Soran could dodge disaster too.

“…But what about my house?”

Wi Chang swallowed hard for a brief moment.

I could sense his tension.

“…It’d be hard to procure one right away. How about staying at the local Hao Gate branch in your chosen region…”

“…Hao Gate?”

“W-We have no choice, do we? Suddenly placing an outsider’s house would arouse the villagers’ suspicions… And building one from scratch and gaining their trust would take too much time…”

“So, Hao Gate it is?”

“We truly have no ulterior motives. I swear it.”

…How am I supposed to believe that?

I’d come here almost entranced myself, but I was being cautious.

Knowing how pathetic my actual token was, I feared the Hao Gate’s attitude would flip.

They were acting this way because they thought I could treat heart demons.

…What if they learned I was far from capable of that?

Even if the Hao Gate seemed polite now, the moment they realized it was all for nothing…

They’d spawn scarier bastards than Cheongwol, popping up like weeds.

Even without Cheongwol, anyone sticking a knife in my neck would kill me just the same.

And if it was countless Hao Gate members whose locations and identities I didn’t even know, it’d be a bigger headache.

I was torn too.

“…You really want nothing from me?”

“Nothing at all. Ha. O. Gate. Nothing.”

…Does that even make sense?

One thing I’d learned surviving as a beggar in the past: there’s no such thing as free.

When someone tosses you something, you grovel like a monkey to please them, or even beggars starve for real.

Or like that uncle, selling info at inns to scrape by.

But Wi Chang had said it himself.

He claimed they wanted nothing, so couldn’t I exploit that a bit?

Pathetic as it was, knowing how precarious my lifeline was, I had to cling to it.

But I couldn’t not do it.

The Poison King’s glare from yesterday was still vividly etched in my memory.

“Haa…”

“What are you hesitating for? Aren’t you struggling against those masters’ grasp? You seem to love peace—shouldn’t you run?”

I was going mad, really. Now I saw it: they were desperate to rack up a debt with me.

What should I do?

Borrowing the Hao Gate’s power scared me, wondering what schemes they had.

Cheongwol chasing after my disappearance felt like needless pressure.

Leaving like this meant I’d never see Ma Childeok Uncle or Gu Yeong Uncle again.

Ah, damn. There were books in the basement too. I had to somehow retrieve those.

But without the Hao Gate’s help, I had no viable options.

I didn’t even know what they might demand far in the future.

Not running scared me too, with the situation drawing me deeper into murim folk.

Now even the Poison King…

It felt fishy. The Hao Gate wasn’t bound by beggar-like loyalty or righteousness.

This group, united for personal gain—looking out for me?

“Juhyeol—no, Brother Wi Chang. Tell me.”

“Speak freely, esteemed one.”

“You’re not planning to take me somewhere else and sell my whereabouts to whoever’s looking for me at a high price, right?”

For example… Cheongwol or something. Cheongwol or whatever. Poison King or such. Or Cheongwol again.

“No way! Goodness, no!”

Wi Chang waved his hands frantically.

My head felt like it would burst.

More than anything, if Cheongwol really came looking for me.

If she learned I was tied to the Hao Gate… the Hao Gate would be screwed too.

…Could these guys handle Cheongwol’s unreasonable wrath or fury?

A mere Hao Gate?

Against the Demonic Cult’s Seven Heavens, the Life-Pursuing Ghost Cheongwol?

It didn’t add up.

“Haa.”

I let out a long sigh.

Fine. Worrying now wouldn’t change anything.

“…If I just vanish right now, it feels like it’d cause me big problems too?”

“…Y-Yes, it would. In the heart demon treatment process, if the physician runs away, of course the masters would raise hell. But we’re not thinking of those masters—we’re solely considering you—”

“—Never mind. I’ll need some time and planning for this. Just poofing away like this feels off…”

“…Mm.”

Juhyeol thought for a moment before speaking.

“Then how about forming a merchant caravan? Or becoming a merchant.”

“…Merchant caravan? Merchant?”

“You’re already running the Leather Room, so you have goods to sell. Forming a caravan would make wandering the central plains natural, wouldn’t it? It’d give you an excuse for leaving Mount Emei empty, and if you slip away or vanish then, it’d be perfect.”

“…Oh?”

I blinked.

“That’s a good idea??”

Then a question popped into my head.

“But what about carriages…”

Wi Chang patted his chest confidently.

Wow.

I couldn’t help but be impressed.