Chapter 196: Every Time I See That Scar From Now On

TL: FoodieMonster007

A passenger boat crossed the river.

The Fist Demon and I stood on the windy deck, watching the river. Our Cult grew more distant with every moment.

Some people's deviations make you anxious. What if he gets into trouble? Or what if this incident changes his life for the worse? All because of me?

But the Fist Demon's deviation didn't worry me at all. Was it because of the sincerity he had always shown? Or did I feel that sincerity was just suppressing the Fist Demon's true nature?

Just then.

TORURURUK.

A yarn ball rolled to the Fist Demon's feet.

A small child ran over, then stopped. The child looked frightened by the large Fist Demon. The Fist Demon picked up the ball and handed it to me.

"Give it to him yourself."

"Do you want to make the kid cry?"

"He won't cry."

The child hesitated to approach the Fist Demon, even as he held out the ball. So, the Fist Demon rolled it to him instead.

Kid, today is the day you received a ball from the Fist Demon.

The child who received the ball bowed deeply and ran toward his parents. Watching this, the Fist Demon suddenly asked.

"Did you say we're going somewhere I'll enjoy?"

"……"

"How would you know what I enjoy?"

"Shall we make a bet?"

"What kind of bet?"

"If you have fun, I win. If you don't, I lose."

"What if I have fun but say I didn't?"

"You wouldn't do that, would you?"

"If it's a bet, what should we wager?"

"Let's bet our pride."

It was the same when we jumped from the waterfall.

The Fist Demon gave me a strange look.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Don't you want to bet the Third Kwon?"

"I do want to bet it."

"Then why don't you suggest it?"

"I got the First and Second Kwon too easily because you were so generous. I have a conscience, so I can't do that again."

It was partly sincere and partly a way to score points with him.

"Alright! On a man's pride!"

I held out my fist to him.

"What's this? You want to fight?"

"When martial artists make a promise, they clash weapons, don't they? We're fist fighters, so we should clash our fists."

"I'm not clashing with a baby's hand."

I looked at the Fist Demon's hand, then glanced down at my own fist.

"Frustratingly, I can't deny that."

The Fist Demon turned his body toward the river.

In the distance, the sunset began to spread over the water.

"Nice."

It was the first time he'd ever said he liked a view. The Fist Demon watched the river. I leaned against the railing with my back to the sunset and watched the Fist Demon.

"I heard you traveled a lot when you were younger."

"I wasn't tied to the Cult."

"They say you went out with Father a lot too?"

"Did the Cult Leader tell you that?"

I quietly answered yes, but I hadn't actually heard it from Father. I learned it while investigating the Demon Supremes before my regression. That's also how I learned about the place we're going now.

"Do you still see Father often these days?"

"I hardly see him. That time at the tavern was the first time we'd met in a long while."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Can human relationships always stay passionate?"

"That's true."

I turned my body as well. The sunset that had colored the Fist Demon now shifted onto my face.

I wonder if he and I will remember this lazy moment as a passionate one.

Two days later, Geom Mugeuk and the Fist Demon entered a bustling marketplace. The Wild Beast Sect was in Murim Alliance territory. This place was in the territory of the Evil Alliance.

The Fist Demon's expression changed strangely as they walked. It hardened one moment and showed intense emotion the next.

They arrived at a shabby warehouse on the outskirts.

Geom Mugeuk paid the guard at the entrance. The guard took the money and led them inside. A passage between stacks of luggage led underground.

They descended the stairs to a large iron door. A blast of hot air and a roar of cheers hit them the moment they opened it and stepped inside.

In the center, two shirtless men traded bare-fisted blows inside a large duel ring.

"This is an underground fighting ring."

Underground fighting rings in the Central Plains varied. Some allowed inner arts or weapons. Others, like this one, were for pure fistfights without either.

"You could pay an entrance fee to just watch, or you could bet on the winner. Most people came here to bet."

"How'd you know about this place?"

"I'm interested in all sorts of things in the murim. I thought you'd like a place where they fight purely with fists, so I brought you here."

A tremor ran through the Fist Demon's eyes.

"What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

Then, a surprising statement came from the Fist Demon's mouth.

"When I was young, I was a fighter here too."

"What?"

Geom Mugeuk acted startled. In truth, he already knew the Fist Demon came from this place.

"You mean right here?"

"That's right. Right here."

The Fist Demon's life hadn't been smooth either.

"Then how did you become connected with our Cult?"

"Someone from our Cult noticed me here and scouted me."

That was something even Geom Mugeuk didn't know.

It must have been before he formally learned martial arts. Still, where would the skills of someone with the aptitude to become the Fist Demon go?

"Were you undefeated here too?"

To Geom Mugeuk's question, the Fist Demon asked back.

"I'm not undefeated even now, am I?"

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't win a fight against the Cult Leader. It's the same with the Murim Alliance Chairman and the Evil Alliance Chairman. There are countless hidden masters, as numerous as grains of sand. I'm not even confident I could beat you right now."

"Me? I have a baby's hand, don't I?"

"The Black Demon Sword in that baby's hand is fearsome."

The Fist Demon might hate the alias 'Undefeated', Geom Mugeuk suddenly thought.

"Who knows. In a true life-or-death battle, who knows what would happen. Couldn't you possibly beat Father?"

The Fist Demon's gaze turned back to the fighting ring. He watched a martial artist get beaten to a pulp and said.

"If I fought the Cult Leader, I'd end up like that. Even if he didn't draw his sword."

Geom Mugeuk nodded.

"True. He's the type to beat his own son like that."

The Fist Demon nodded seriously at Geom Mugeuk's words.

I don't actually know what kind of memories the Fist Demon has of this place. Maybe he's sick of it. Maybe he never wanted to come back.

But I brought him here anyway because he was now the Fist Demon. He had risen from the bottom of the fist-fighting world to its pinnacle.

Wouldn't he want to come here at least once? Wouldn't he want to feel that passionate heat again?

Geom Mugeuk and the Fist Demon stood in the crowd and watched the match.

The heat was so intense that no one even noticed the fearsome-looking Fist Demon standing nearby.

Geom Mugeuk could tell their crazed expressions weren't from the fight, but from the gambling. They were shouting, caring only for the outcome.

After watching for a moment, the Fist Demon commented casually.

"The one on the left will win."

How could his judgment be wrong?

The martial artist on the left won.

The matches continued without a break. As soon as one ended, three or four men instantly wiped the sweat and blood from the stage. Others brought out a large board showing the next fighters' records and recent results. People looked at it and placed their bets. The whole process happened in an instant. As if time were money, the matches continued without pause, never letting the crowd's excitement cool.

The Fist Demon correctly predicted the next match too. He was a true prophet.

"We could leave here rich men, you know?"

Despite his words, Geom Mugeuk didn't bet a single coin.

"Why not place a bet for fun?"

"I don't want to."

"……"

"Honestly, I'm regretting this. I brought you here to feel the fight's heat, but it seems the gambling's heat is even more intense."

The Fist Demon smiled bitterly at Geom Mugeuk's honest words.

"It was like that back then, too. This place… is always like this."

Just then, the Fist Demon's gaze fixed on a young man.

"That young fellow has good eyes."

The Fist Demon is projecting his own childhood onto that young man, Geom Mugeuk felt.

"Alright. I'll bet my entire fortune on that fellow."

At Geom Mugeuk's joke, the Fist Demon urged him.

"Go on, bet. He'll definitely win."

"No, thanks."

But the young man the Fist Demon picked lost the match. The Fist Demon's expression hardened slightly at the result.

"If I'd bet like you said, I would've lost my entire fortune. We almost would've been homeless tonight!"

Could the Fist Demon have misjudged their skills? No, the match was fixed.

"Should I ask to see the owner?"

It would be natural for the Fist Demon to meet the owner and give him a piece of his mind.

"The fixing probably has nothing to do with the ring itself. In fact, the management tries to catch it. They make huge money just by letting things be, so they wouldn't cause problems by fixing matches."

That meant the fixing was attempted from the outside.

"Memories should just be left as memories. I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

"I brought you here to enjoy the fights, but I'm worried you just ended up feeling bad instead."

"It's fine."

"Times have changed a lot. It seems the pure fights from back then are gone."

The Fist Demon gave a strange smile at that.

"Why do you think there was no fixing back then?"

"There was?"

"Of course there was. It changed my life."

The Fist Demon's gaze followed the young man leaving the duel ring as he recalled the past.

"I was on a winning streak. One night, the head of the local mafia came to find me with his subordinates. He told me to throw the next match. Since I was on a winning streak, they could make a huge amount of money if I lost. He offered me money too. It was a pretty large sum."

"What'd you do?"

"I refused."

"They wouldn't have just let it go, would they?"

The Fist Demon nodded and closed his eyes, the past returning as vividly as yesterday. He remembered fighting, throwing punches, and dodging the mafia thugs.

He knocked down all the subordinates, but he couldn't handle the leader. The man had formally learned martial arts, while he himself had not. In the end, the man completely overpowered him.

"If you don't listen to me, you'll die."

"You fucking mafia bastard! If you're a man, fight me in the ring without inner arts!"

"Words won't work, I see."

The leader tore open the Fist Demon's clothes.

SEUEUEUEUK!

The man drew a long cut across the Fist Demon's chest with a throwing knife. The Fist Demon clenched his teeth, trying not to scream.

"You have to lose anyway, so it's okay if it hurts a little, right?"

In the end, the Fist Demon couldn't bear the pain and screamed.

"I understand. I'll lose the next match."

"It would've been better if you'd said that from the start. Then you wouldn't have gotten hurt. Whenever you get a stupid idea, look at this scar."

The man left, laughing.

After hearing the whole story, Geom Mugeuk asked.

"So what happened?"

"What do you think happened? I won the next match spectacularly. I made that bastard lose his entire fortune."

Geom Mugeuk laughed out loud. Yes, this is the kind of person the Fist Demon is.

"That's awesome!"

"It wasn't awesome. It was a time when I was reckless and fearless. I was far more fearless then than I am now, even though I'm a thousand times stronger."

The Fist Demon opened the front of his robe and showed me again.

"I earned this scar on my body like that. It's not a wound from some grand master, but a shabby, humiliating scar from some mafia punk whose name I don't even remember. It's a scar I didn't even get when I fought an Elder of the Murim Alliance."

The Fist Demon has probably never told anyone about this scar, I thought. It isn't a scar on his body, but a scar on his heart.

"Isn't it an even more prideful scar?"

"Prideful?"

"You must have been much more scared than when you fought the Murim Alliance Elder, but you endured it, didn't you?"

"You can try to frame it nicely, but to me, it's just a shame I want to erase."

"Don't say that. I've actually come to like that scar more. From now on, whenever I see that scar, I'll think of the young Fist Demon, dignified even without a shred of inner arts. I think it's a much cooler scar than one left by the Murim Alliance Chairman or the Evil Alliance Chairman."

The Fist Demon was momentarily stunned, having never thought or heard anything like that before. He had always felt bad whenever he saw the scar. He thought that perhaps, starting today, that unpleasantness might lessen a little.

Geom Mugeuk knew that someone's words are what's needed to heal a wound of the heart. He knew a scar only begins to heal when someone says something like this, not after thinking about it a hundred or a thousand times alone.

"Show me that scar often."

A warmth spread deep in his heart. The Fist Demon didn't know what to say and just looked at Geom Mugeuk in silence.

Whether he knew his feelings or not, Geom Mugeuk asked again.

"Please tell me the rest of the story. So, that mafia bastard must have come to kill you."

The Fist Demon nodded, recalling the day his destiny changed.

"That night, he came for me with all the subordinates under his command."