How long had he been beaten?
The pain was slowly fading, and with it, the world itself seemed to drift farther away.
Yet neither rage nor despair came.
Only a vague thought lingered.
Perhaps my family felt something like this.
Wouldn't it be merciful to die this way?
At least then, he would no longer suffer the blackened agony that gnawed endlessly at his insides.
Swish.
Something sliced across his face.
"Fearless bastard. How dare you utter the master's name with that filthy tongue."
His vision swam, smeared and distorted, but the madness blazing in the man's eyes was unmistakable.
Seeing that fury—as though an untouchable sanctuary had been defiled—almost made him laugh.
"You can't die yet. Stay conscious."
A cold voice followed.
"I'll teach you exactly how cruel the hands of the White Demons can be."
A blade rested against Ho Gamyeong's neck.
His senses were so dulled that he barely registered the pain. He tried to spit out the blood pooling in his mouth—
—and heard voices.
His hearing was wrong. Sounds came as though filtered through water.
"What?"
"This brat came looking for the master. I was teaching him his place."
"This… you idiot!"
"What?"
"Did you forget the master's order? Anyone who comes looking for him is to be kept alive!"
Ho Gamyeong blinked slowly through swollen eyes.
The man who had tortured him moments ago turned pale.
The blade still pressed against Ho Gamyeong's neck. Each tremor of the hand holding it drew thin red lines across his skin.
"Th-that's right…"
"You damned fool!"
Whack!
The scolding man struck him without restraint. The torturer was sent flying, unable even to scream.
"If you want to die, do it alone!"
Grinding his teeth, the man turned back to Ho Gamyeong and frantically checked his condition.
"…Still breathing."
Relief washed over his face.
He hoisted Ho Gamyeong onto his shoulder and began to walk.
Thud.
In that brief moment, Ho Gamyeong lost consciousness.
He awoke only when his body was thrown to the ground.
Groaning faintly, he forced his eyes open.
He had no idea how much time had passed.
Darkness surrounded him.
Was it night?
Or was he somewhere light could not reach?
Only faint, flickering lamplight pierced the black.
As his eyes adjusted, the place revealed itself.
A wide room—bare of furniture. More like a warehouse than a residence.
Dozens of men sprawled across the floor.
Broken liquor bottles littered the ground. A pungent, nauseating stench burned his nose. Some leaned limply against the walls with vacant eyes, while others clung to bottles, swaying as if ready to collapse.
A scene of utter decay.
Ho Gamyeong had never seen anything like it.
No—he had never imagined such a place could exist.
He was frozen, unable to speak.
Then a voice cut through the haze.
"What is it?"
The voice was strange.
Bright and dark. High and low.
But above all—
Rough.
A ferocity like a beast's claws scraped against the air, instinctively making one shrink back.
"He said he came to see the master."
"To see me?"
From among the sprawled figures, a man slowly stood.
Ho Gamyeong looked up through swollen eyes.
His first impression was delicate.
The word didn't suit his build, nor the brutality in his voice—yet it surfaced unbidden.
The lean man approached with an idle gait.
Lamplight revealed his face.
White.
Unnaturally so.
Paler than Ho Gamyeong's, who had lived his entire life as a scholar.
Long eyes settled on him.
"So even a corpse can talk."
"Th-that is… he's still alive…"
"Oh?"
Thud!
A small dagger—no bigger than a child's palm—was driven into the carrier's abdomen.
"Stay still."
"M-master! Mercy—!"
"I am being merciful."
The pale man's voice was calm.
"If I weren't, it would be your neck."
Savage light flashed.
Blood splattered across his white face.
"Don't squirm. If you annoy me, I might tear your throat out."
He twisted the blade slowly.
"And don't scream. It dirties my ears."
The man collapsed, choking.
"Useless trash."
"S-sorry…"
The pale-faced man turned away, already bored.
Then his gaze returned to Ho Gamyeong.
"You might have brought something interesting…"
He flicked the blood from his fingers as though shaking off dirt, lips parting in a wolfish grin.
"At this rate, we should call a Taoist. Bury him and be done—"
Ho Gamyeong's body twitched.
The man's eyes lit up.
"Hm?"
Against all reason, Ho Gamyeong pushed himself upright.
His body trembled violently, yet he forced himself into a seated position—straight-backed, formal.
The pale-faced man watched with interest.
"You said you came to see me?"
Ho Gamyeong nodded.
"Who are you?"
"…Ho Gamyeong."
"The Ho family…"
A pause.
Then a grin.
"The one annihilated overnight by bandits?"
"…."
"Oh, right. That's the story everyone knows."
His voice turned amused.
"In truth, the pig-like Wangsa burned your family to the ground because you criticized his tyranny."
Ho Gamyeong's shoulders shook.
"Is that correct?"
He nodded again.
"So you're Ho Gyeong's son—the one sent to study in Beijing."
A soft chuckle.
"Well then. What brings such an esteemed young master here?"
Ho Gamyeong's eyes filled with venom.
"I came to make a deal."
"A deal?"
"I want revenge."
"Against Wangsa?"
Nod.
"And the price?"
"Wealth."
"Wealth beyond imagination?"
Ho Gamyeong clenched his teeth and nodded.
"Ho Gamyeong."
"Yes."
"Do you know who I am?"
"White-Faced Demon. Jang Ilso."
"Oh?"
"I've heard. In Guizhou, there is a demon who will do anything for the right price."
Jang Ilso laughed softly.
"You know quite well."
Thud.
Ho Gamyeong was sent flying.
Jang Ilso approached, malice pouring from his face.
"You pig."
Step. Step.
His foot crushed Ho Gamyeong's hand.
Crunch.
Bones shattered.
"You guessed right."
He grabbed Ho Gamyeong by the hair and yanked his head up.
"But you were wrong about one thing."
"Wealth?"
His eyes burned.
"You think that garbage can buy me?"
Ho Gamyeong convulsed.
"You thought I'd become your dog for coins?"
Thud!
He was hurled into the wall.
Crunch!
Jang Ilso crushed his ankle.
Ho Gamyeong screamed.
"A deal requires equal interest."
Crack!
The ankle broke completely.
"Dispose of him."
"Yes."
As they moved—
Jang Ilso froze.
Ho Gamyeong was moving.
Slowly, painfully, he sat up.
Crack.
He reset his ankle.
Then bowed.
"If that's the case…"
His hoarse voice filled the room.
"Tell me what you want."
He bowed again.
"What must I give?"
Silence.
"What must I become?"
Even the hardened killers shuddered at his gaze.
"Please."
Jang Ilso finally spoke.
"You're favored by the prince. Why not wait?"
"…Not now."
"Why?"
"What meaning does revenge have if it comes from pity?"
His voice tore through the room.
"If I must, I will tear my own flesh."
"If I can't, I will become a demon."
"And if even that fails—"
"I will find someone who can kill him in agony."
He bowed.
"Please."
Jang Ilso stared.
"How pathetic."
"But…"
A smile bloomed.
Innocent.
Terribly so.
"I've found something I want."
He leaned closer.
"I'll accept."
His eyes gleamed.
"But the price will be very high, scholar."
In those bright eyes, Ho Gamyeong's broken reflection trembled.
Locked and consistent.
When ready: