Time passed, merciless and unrelenting.
The world still belonged to firearms, and rumor held that they had grown even more powerful. All the while, Jang Tae walked his own path, seeking the ultimate purpose of martial arts through endless, solitary training.
Sib-i of his most powerful followers, absolute masters in their own right, ruled the world alliance. They were known as the Sib-i-gun.
Though the martial arts world had been unified under their iron fist, life had not improved. Injustice was rampant under the dominion of the Sib-i-gun. Flatter them and you gained fame; defy them and you lost your life. In truth, life had become more arduous than when the world had been split between the two great factions.
Meanwhile, the Mumaeng and the Sadomaeng remained sealed, powerless to act. It was said that unless Jang Tae died, the seal would never be broken.
Just when the world had begun to assume he had died in some nameless valley, the man returned.
He had been young when they first met, but now his graying hair fell past his ears. The man possessed an aura of maturity that was beyond comparison to his former self.
He had changed. His face and body were tanned bronze, as if he had journeyed across the entire world, and his skin was a roadmap of faded scars. He had changed profoundly, yet his eyes—cold, clear, and impossibly deep—were the same as the day he first arrived.
“Here,” he said, holding out a box. “The inner altar of the Mannyeonhwari.”
Inside the box was, indeed, the inner altar of the Mannyeonhwari.
“You actually did it!”
The Gyeom’s voice trembled.
“How in the world did you find it?”
“I searched every place imaginable. I could draw you a map of the central plains from memory. I am now an expert in scaling mountains, diving into the deepest rivers, and surviving in the harshest wilds.”
“It’s truly incredible.”
“The amazing thing isn’t that I found it, but that I didn’t lose my mind in the process.”
A strange thought occurred to the Gyeom. Perhaps this wasn't the inner altar of a Mannyeonhwari at all, but a crystallization of the man's own indomitable will. He pictured a sky-blue essence flowing from the man’s body to form the core in the box, but the man’s voice broke his reverie.
“What’s the next ingredient?”
“Aren’t you going to brag?”
Acquiring such a treasure must have been a legendary adventure. If it were him, the Gyeom wouldn't have been able to resist boasting of his success to anyone who would listen.
“Bragging? I’ll save that for when I’m feasting on Jang Tae’s corpse. I’ll tell the story to his mummified head for the rest of my days, reliving the moment I killed him over and over again.”
“You have a dark sense of humor.”
The Gyeom wished they could laugh and talk as friends, discussing martial arts and life. But the man, as always, was pressed for time.
“What is the fourth ingredient?”
“It’s money.”
The man didn’t even blink at the unexpected answer.
“How much?”
“Five million nyang.”
It was a staggering, almost unimaginable sum, yet the man’s reaction was unchanged.
“I’ll be back.”
The Gyeom knew that if he had said a hundred million, or even a billion nyang, the man's response would have been the same. He was a person who moved silently and unstoppably toward his goal. The Gyeom was witnessing the most extreme example of how terrifying a person’s will could be when properly focused.
“Wait.”
“Why?”
“I’ll provide it. My family has been saving for this Yeokcheon for generations. I’ll use that money.”
“And why is that?”
“Because seeing this Yeokcheon succeed is the long-cherished wish of my family, and of my own.”
“I see. Thank you. Truly. That will save a great deal of time.”
For the first time, the man seemed genuinely pleased.
“Then… will you have a drink with me today?”
“Just one. Then I have to go.”
“You’re a harsh friend.”
They sat side by side on a large rock in the yard, pouring liquor into wide cups. The two drank slowly, savoring the taste and the silence.
“We were both so much more cheerful when we first met.”
“My body ages, but my mind stays the same. I fight desperately to keep it young.”
“Why make such an effort?”
“Because I will return to the man I was then. Whether I go back at fifty, sixty, or a hundred, I am still the same person who came to you all those years ago. My time stopped that day.”
If the Gyeom had heard such words when they first met, he would have thought, The dedication is admirable, but is the cause worth it? Now, however, he knew better than anyone the terrifying depths of this man’s will.
“If the Yeokcheon truly succeeds and you can return to the past… would you do me one favor?”
“Speak.”
“If you go back, you must come and find me.”
“And when I do?”
The Gyeom let out a long, weary sigh.
“Stop my marriage.”
The man burst into laughter, the first true laugh the Gyeom had heard from him in decades.
“Hahaha.”
“I’m not joking. Please, stop it.”
“Is it more important than five million nyang?”
“To me, it is. Make sure I live my entire life alone. You must promise me.”
“I understand.”
The Gyeom told him the year of the wedding, pressing him again.
“Promise me.” “I will stop it. Without fail.”
“My word on it.”
The two men drained their cups.
“What is the last ingredient?”
“You know this one as well.”
“What is it?”
“The Bimahon.”
The man’s eyes grew cold. He knew exactly what it was. The Bimahon.
“The sacred treasure of your late father.”
“I know. My father never let it out of his sight for a single moment.”
“Do you have it?”
The man shook his head.
“Do you know where it is?”
“No.”
“What if… what if Jang Tae has it?”
“Then all these years will have been for nothing. But even if it remains with my clan, getting it won’t be easy.”
The Demonic Cult had closed its gates to the outside world and was now under the command of a new leader. Though they lacked the power to break Jang Tae’s seal, they had spent years consolidating their strength and reinforcing their internal stability.
As the son of the previous leader, the man would not be welcomed. His appearance, once thought dead, would be seen as a threat. The new leader would surely try to kill him.
“Let’s just hope it remains with the clan.”
“Don’t take too long. I’m an old man now.”
“Don’t you die before I get back. And thank you for the drink.”
After finishing the last of his liquor, the man departed.
The Gyeom stood there for a long time, watching until he was gone.
The man who left did not return. There was no news of any disturbance within the Demonic Cult, but the Gyeom listened for it all the same.
Time passed. The Gyeom grew older, and the blossoms of the underworld—age spots—bloomed across his face.
Today, like most days, he was sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the spot where the man always used to stand.
Then the Gyeom rubbed his eyes, certain he was seeing things.
Someone was staggering toward him.
It was him.
The man who had left to find the final ingredient had returned.
But he was horribly changed. He was so disfigured he was nearly unrecognizable. His right eye was gone, as was his left arm. When he removed his tattered shirt, his body was a canvas of fresh and ancient wounds, drenched in blood.
Seeing him, the Gyeom was rendered speechless.
The man handed him the Bimahon before collapsing against a post.
“You… how did you possibly get the Bimahon?”
“…Take me to the place… for the Yeokcheon.”
He didn’t even have the strength to answer.
The Gyeom supported him, guiding him to the chamber where the great ritual would be performed.
Everything was ready.
The long-awaited final ingredient.
The Gyeom took the Bimahon and placed it in the center of the array. The artifact began to glow, projecting strange diagrams and characters into the air around it.
Standing before the altar, the Gyeom began to chant.
Blue and red light swirled through the chamber. A ceremonial bell chimed, and fragrant smoke rose from a censer.
As the Gyeom’s incantation reached its peak, the five core ingredients merged into one, creating a shimmering cluster of light. It looked like a gateway, an entrance leading somewhere else.
“I did it!”
Emotion flooded the Gyeom’s face. The centuries-long ambition of his family was finally fulfilled.
The Gyeom approached the man, who was leaning against a pillar. He had lost consciousness from blood loss. Instead of waking him, the Gyeom spoke softly.
“…I’m sorry.”
He had decided to go back to the past himself.
“I’m truly sorry.”
He felt a deep pang of guilt, knowing better than anyone the hell the man had endured to acquire these ingredients. But they were irreplaceable; this was his only chance.
“I will come find you. I’ll warn you of the troubles ahead. I promise.”
The Gyeom rose and turned toward the light.
“To return to the past has been my family’s dream for generations. It was my dream, too.”
As he took a step toward the luminous halo…
“Ugh.”
The Gyeom froze, startled.
Before he knew it, his pressure points had been sealed. He hadn't even sensed the movement.
A weary voice drifted from behind him.
“How could you?”
The man he thought was unconscious was now standing.
“You…”
The Gyeom’s voice trembled.
The man walked unsteadily until he stood directly in front of the Gyeom.
“You, of all people… How could you do this to me?”
He grabbed the Gyeom’s throat. The old man’s frail neck felt as if it might snap at any moment.
“…I must have lost my mind. Ugh… I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”
The Gyeom was sure the man would kill him. And he deserved it. He, of all people, knew the price the man had paid. He, of all people, should never have betrayed him.
But then, the man released his grip.
“I’m a selfish man myself. It was my own desire that drove me to gather these ingredients in the first place. So I understand. If it were anyone else, I would have killed them where they stood, but you… I can understand you.”
The man didn’t scold him. Instead, he spoke with warmth and sincerity in his one remaining eye.
“Thank you for waiting for me all your life.”
Tears welled in the Gyeom’s eyes at the man’s earnest words, a mix of shame and regret. They could have parted on better terms. They truly could have.
In the exact moment a tear escaped the Gyeom’s eye and began to fall…
The world stopped.
“Huh?”
The man looked around, bewildered. All movement had ceased. A butterfly in mid-flight hung in the air like a painting. Blades of grass, bent by the wind, remained frozen in their bow.
So too was the Gyeom. The very tear falling from his eye hung suspended in the air.
The man wondered if blood loss was making him hallucinate.
It was then that an old man appeared in the silent world, where only the man could move.
“You have passed all the tests.”
Startled, the man asked, “Who are you?”
“Someone who can send you to the past.”
“!”
“How could mortal power defy the laws of heaven? Did you truly believe that mere spiritual artifacts and this ritual could accomplish such a feat?”
The old man raised his hand, and the five ingredients the man had spent his life collecting materialized around him, shimmering into existence from the nothingness they had become.
In that moment, the man knew. This elder was a being beyond the mortal coil.
“The true ingredients of this Yeokcheon were not these objects, but the will you forged to gather them.”
The old man waved his hand, and the artifacts dissipated like smoke.
“You have passed the trial. You sacrificed your entire life for a single purpose. And forgiving that Gyeom was the final test. In truth, it was the most difficult, yet you passed it with the greatest of ease.”
A tremor ran through the man’s body. For his entire life, he had believed the heavens were indifferent, that they did not exist at all. Now, a being he could only call heaven stood before him. Surprise quickly gave way to a lifetime of bitterness.
“Did you have to make me suffer so much? Is your pride so great that you needed to see me bleed for decades?”
“Do not be so angry. Many people meet me far more easily than you did. Some meet me every day. But their wishes are not so easily granted, are they?”
The man had to concede the point. He wasn’t asking to become rich or to marry a beautiful woman. His wish was to turn back time itself.
“Please, send me back.”
“And when you return?”
“I will kill those who must be killed, and save those who must be saved.”
First, he would kill Jang Tae and save everyone.
But there was something else, just as important.
“And… I want to live my own life. As much as I burn with rage for Jang Tae, perhaps the reason I want to go back so desperately is because I regret the life I lived.”
“What do you regret so much?”
“Everything. From the day I was born until now, my life has not been my own. It was a life lived by being pushed… Pushed by fate, pushed by circumstance, until I ended up here. Was that you? Were you the one pushing me?”
The old man offered an awkward smile.
“What kind of life do you want to live, after your revenge is done?”
“I don’t know. Will I follow in my father’s footsteps and become the Heuk-cheon? Will I turn my back on the world and live in seclusion? Will I become a rake and conquer every beauty in the world? Will I abandon my clan and spend my days beating criminals to a pulp? Or will I become a criminal myself? I haven’t decided a single thing.”
“I wonder what kind of life you will lead. I look forward to seeing it.”
“Thank you.”
“Let’s share a drink, the next time we meet.”
With those words, the old man vanished.
Next time?
He had a feeling that one day, the old man might just appear before him again.
Instantly, time resumed its flow. The suspended butterfly flapped its wings, the still blades of grass swayed in the wind, and the frozen tear finally traced a path down the Gyeom’s cheek.
“I’m sorry. Truly.”
The man stared silently at the weeping Gyeom. He would never know. He would never dream that his Yeokcheon was so great it could touch the will of heaven itself. Though the final judgment came from above, the Gyeom's ritual was undeniably the medium that had connected them.
The Gyeom looked up, his face fraught with anxiety.
“Ah! This is a shameless request, but don’t forget the promise you made me! You have to stop my marriage!”
The man chuckled. Even old and on the verge of death, the fool was still obsessed with the same thing.
“Is your life still a living hell?”
“A hotter one than you can imagine. I know I have no right to ask, but please! If you don’t keep this one promise, I swear I’ll find a way to curse you from the afterlife!”
“That important, is it?”
“More than anything.”
“Fine. Then consider living through that hell again your punishment for trying to betray me.”
“Ack! Wait! Please!”
The man walked toward the shimmering gateway of light, leaving the howling Gyeom behind him.
The Gyeom watched, overcome with a desperate urge, as the brilliant light began to embrace the man. There was only one thing left he wanted to say.
“I want to go too! Aaaah! Take me with you!”