Passion (BL Novel)

"Even if you don’t notice someone’s presence, you always feel their absence. It feels empty without that martial artist around."

Jangho nodded in agreement with Seo Daeryong’s wistful words.
"His absence leaves a big hole."
They were on their way to the Pungnyu Tavern in Magachon.

Jangho was a giant, and Seo Daeryong was small and wiry. Their contrasting figures always earned a second glance from passersby.
"Who would've thought I'd end up missing that martial artist more than our branch lord."
They usually drank together with Ian. Last time, it had just been the two of them. It definitely hadn’t been as fun as when the three of them were together.

Ian and Seo Daeryong usually carried the mood with their chatter. But with her gone and only the taciturn Jangho remaining, the atmosphere inevitably turned more subdued.
Of course, there was an upside. In place of entertainment came a kind of sincerity, and they learned things about each other. Like how Jangho had once dreamed of becoming a painter.
"Do you think that martial artist is doing well?"

Jangho replied without hesitation.
"Of course he is. Do you know who he's traveling with? Don’t worry."
"I’m not worried. I’m just jealous. I bet the craziest things are happening around him right now. I want to be there with him, getting shocked too!"

"Don’t forget that he's got the Extreme Demon beside him."
"Now that I think about it... having you beside me is probably better."
Jangho gave a faint chuckle. For Seo Daeryong, that small, masculine laugh alone was worth the night out. He wished he could laugh like that too.

Chatting like that, the two arrived at the Pungnyu Tavern.
Just as they were about to go in—
The tavern owner, Jo Chunbae, stepped outside and raised a finger to his lips.

"Not now. You shouldn’t go in."
"Why?"
"The Demon Lords are here."
"Who?"

Seo Daeryong tilted his head and peered into the tavern's second floor.
Sitting where they usually drank were Blood Heaven Butcher—his own master—and Mabul, facing each other over drinks.
Seo Daeryong quickly pulled back, startled.

"We’ll drink somewhere else tonight."
"Alright, sure."
After they left, Jo Chunbae returned inside.

He looked up at the second floor. Even from below, the tension between Blood Heaven Butcher and Mabul was palpable.
"Why’d you call me here?"
Mabul didn’t respond to the question.

Uncharacteristic of him. Instead of his usual sharp tongue, he seemed weary. He was drinking alone.
"It’s not like we can’t share a drink, you and I."
"Share a drink? After you’ve gone around slandering me as a traitor?"

"You are a traitor."
"And you aren’t? You’re the one who came to see me, not the Grand Heir."
"You always acted like you knew everything. That smug air made you look down on me."

Blood Heaven Butcher smirked faintly. But instead of lashing out, he simply downed his drink.
Not long ago, the mere sight of Mabul had irritated him. A runt bursting with ambition and nothing else.
But that arrogance had changed after he met Geom Muguk.

"It’s not easy, is it?"
At those words, Mabul raised his head. He tried to read the intent behind them, but Blood Heaven Butcher was only pouring more wine.
It didn’t seem like mockery, so the words slipped out of Mabul’s mouth before he could stop them.

"...No, it’s not easy."
He regretted saying it immediately. It gave the other man {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} an opening to mock him. And of course, Blood Heaven Butcher took it.
"You thought you were the Grand Heir’s right hand, didn’t you? But no—more like a fish kept on a hook. A fancy golden carp, maybe."

"Do you even know how to just have a decent drink with someone? That petty, twisted mind of yours won’t allow it."
"You should’ve treated me better in the past. And pick a lane—either call me ‘senior’ till the end, or just stick with ‘you’ from the beginning."
"You’re so full of it!"

Bang!
Mabul slammed the table. It shattered, and everything on it crashed to the floor.
"Don’t break things next time. In our sect, we don’t break tables."

"What the hell are you babbling about? Have you lost your mind?"
Mabul stormed off, seething.
Damn it!

The moment he broke the table, he’d lost. Why had he even come? What good could possibly come from meeting Blood Heaven Butcher?
He hated that the man had seen his inner turmoil. Hated that he’d now have more reason to look down on him.
Fine. Scorn me all you want, you dried-up old bastard.

Watching Mabul’s back as he left, Blood Heaven Butcher slowly rose to his feet.
But contrary to what Mabul feared, there was no mockery, no contempt in the man's expression. Instead, the same sigh that had escaped Mabul's lips... now escaped his.
"Yeah. It’s not easy."

As he exited, Blood Heaven Butcher handed Jo Chunbae money for the drinks and the broken table.
"It’s alright, sir."
The glare he received made him accept the money instantly.

"Don’t let the Young Lord hear about the table."
"Of course not! I won’t say a word!"
And so, Blood Heaven Butcher departed as well.

Jo Chunbae watched him go, then headed upstairs to clean up the broken table.
Even without the Young Lord, people kept coming. Not long ago, the Sword Hermit had visited alone. He ordered drinks but didn’t touch a drop.
Jo Chunbae knew.

They didn’t come for the drinks, or the food, or the ambiance.
They all came... because they missed someone.
I sat on the cart, looking up at the sky, when I saw Visa-in approaching from a distance with seven members of the Thirteen Demon Path Youths.

They had chosen the meeting place again.
An open clearing. They were clearly worried about ambush.
I understood. When your life is constantly in danger, your nerves fray. You become overly cautious. And yet, even with all that caution, he’d end up dead.

Seeing I’d come alone, Visa-in looked puzzled.
"You came alone?"
"I did."

The Extreme Demon had entrusted this entirely to me. Ian had wanted to come, but I left her behind.
Visa-in’s expression hardened.
His pride must’ve taken a hit. He wasn’t yet the formal successor, but he was of the Heavenly Demon’s blood. Meanwhile, I moved alone, while he needed seven escorts. No doubt he felt like a coward.

I wanted to tell him—that pride? It’s worthless. That shame you feel? It means nothing. That’s just youth.
"You didn’t already find the lead, did you?"
"I did."

Though he’d suspected it, my answer still surprised him.
"How did you find it so fast?"
He looked at me with clear doubt.

"I didn’t find them. They found me."
I pulled off the tarp covering the cart.
Inside were five corpses.

"Just as you warned, there was an ambush."
I didn’t mention that they were after the Heavenly Flower Mistress. Whether or not they knew about her didn’t matter—it wasn’t something I intended to volunteer.
"These are the Bloodwater Five Shadows of Baekyagok."

"How did you know?"
"Don’t underestimate the intelligence network of our sect. We know more about your group than you think."
Visa-in’s expression twisted. A slight frown—yet with his terrible scar, even that looked like rage.

"Baekyagok took the contract. Track them, and you’ll find out who ordered the hit. What you do to make the Baekyagok Lord talk is up to you. Well? Is that enough to count as a clue, as promised?"
Visa-in stayed silent for a moment. He clearly wanted to claim it wasn’t enough—but he knew I wouldn’t let him.
"What, did you expect me to deliver the head of the one who ordered it?"

"No need to provoke me. It’s enough. Starting today, the Baekgye Trading Group will withdraw from Guiju. We’ll also compensate for the past two years of losses."
"As expected of the heir to the Demonic Alliance. Until next time."
I turned to leave—then heard his voice in a whisper-transmission.

—Yi Gongja.
But that was it. Like a ghost carried by the wind, no follow-up came.
He had tried to say something... and then decided not to.

I looked into his eyes. Ignoring his scars, I saw only the eyes.
They made him look fiercer than he really was. But to me, he was just a young man desperately trying to survive.
Say it, Visa-in. Whatever it is—if you want to change your fate, say it.

But he said nothing and walked away. The Thirteen Demon Path Youths followed with the cart.
I watched them go for a while before I, too, left.
When I returned, the Extreme Demon was walking in the courtyard of Heavenly Flower Pavilion. He looked calm, but I could feel it—he was still angry, still trying to cool down.

I joined him in his walk.
"The Baekgye Trading Group is pulling out of Guiju. They’ll also compensate for two years of losses."
"You handled in days what’s troubled me for two years."

"They agreed because they feared you."
"You don’t have to be modest. Thank you, Yi Gongja."
The Extreme Demon stopped walking.

"The one who ordered the Heavenly Flower Mistress killed—I’ll kill them myself. Even if it means being locked up again for years."
He looked at me, waiting for my thoughts. I gave them.
"Of course you should. They tried to kill someone I care about. I’d kill them myself if I could."

His eyes lit up with unexpected delight.
"Don’t you want to return to the sect? You’d be free of the responsibility for my actions."
"After seeing so much of your world, I forgot why I ever left mine."

"Shall we go back?"
"No. Show me more of your world. Let’s kill the one behind this. Then we go."
I kept knocking on his door—not to fling it wide open, but just enough.

So we could stand at that threshold, not as friends or enemies... but something in between.
I know who you are.
You died regretting your life. That empty, evil-filled life.

Are you still the same man?
"Yi Gongja, there’s nothing more to see in my world. This is all there is. I have to meet with the gambling hall managers. Meet the gang leaders who work under me. You dressed my world up like it was something meaningful. But it’s just threats and extortion. And sometimes I cut off hands or kill the ones I dislike."
You've changed.

The you from before the regression was never this honest.
The old you was too far gone to change.
How did I ever become your friend?

Maybe... I was like you.
Frozen stiff in my obsession to gather materials for the Grand Regression Art—maybe you saw yourself in that and liked me for it.
"If you don’t want your world to grow stale, there’s only one way to keep it interesting."

"And what is that?"
"When war breaks out. Blood floods the world, and you fly through the sky. But that’s a world I don’t want to see. I want this one. I want to see how you deal with crooked managers. How you deal with those underworld bastards."
A flash of emotion crossed the Extreme Demon’s eyes—something I’d never seen there before.

I walked a few steps ahead, then turned back.
"Shall we? Time to go cut off the hands of those stealing from us."