'To collect what I came for, I'll need to make use of that so-called demon haunting Xi'an.'
Wi Jicheon already knew about the "demon" said to be terrorizing the city. The case had caused such an uproar that even distant Namyang had heard of it.
'The Seojia clan won't hand over the money willingly. So I'll use the demon.'
The Seojia Clan.
That was his target in Xi'an — the place he planned to collect from.
He called it collection because the Seojia clan still owed a debt to the Divine Healer's House.
'The patriarch of the Seojia clan once worked as an external physician for our family. Then he embezzled a fortune and fled in the night.'
It had happened when Wi Jicheon was still a child.
The Divine Healer's House had never recovered the money. There was no proof linking the theft to Seojia.
The loss had nearly bankrupted them.
And worse, that wretch had even mocked them.
Fools like that deserve to suffer. They don't understand how the world works.
His mother, already frail after giving birth to him, had fallen ill with rage.
So now, Wi Jicheon intended to reclaim every coin the Seojia clan had stolen — with interest, compounded generously.
To make Seojia's patriarch willingly return that money, he needed a plan.
"Could you tell me more about the demon that's been appearing in Xi'an?"
"That is…"
"I thought there might be some way I could help. Hero Jang Sam, too, would surely prefer to make amends by assisting in the matter."
When Wi Jicheon invoked Jang Sam's name, Cheongsong hesitated.
After all, their earlier accusation against Jang Sam had been a grave mistake.
"…It's confidential information, but I'll tell you this much. The man's demonic cultivation appears to belong to the Blood-Yin lineage. He kidnaps women and children, drains their vitality, and uses it to refine his internal energy."
"Do you know where these crimes took place?"
"Mostly around Qujiang Road in Xi'an… and near the district of Yibuzhuang."
As expected of Huashan — their intelligence was thorough.
"Don't get any reckless ideas," Cheongsong warned. "That black-path fellow may fend for himself, but you'd be easy prey for a fiend like that. Be cautious."
"Yes, thank you."
"Then we'll be off. And I mean it — be very careful."
When the Huashan disciples departed, Jang Sam trudged up beside Wi Jicheon, uneasy.
"What are you plotting this time, my—no, Young Master?"
He could smell mischief but couldn't guess what form it would take.
Wi Jicheon only shrugged lightly.
"Let's finish a little errand before the main course, shall we?"
Jang Sam learned soon enough what that "errand" was.
"Ghh—ghhkk!"
In an abandoned house near Qujiang Road, a deranged man was writhing in agony, eyes bloodshot and bulging.
Something in his meridians had been sealed — his body couldn't even twitch properly.
A boy stood over him, calm and quiet.
Wi Jicheon.
"You're already struggling? We've only just begun."
"Mmff! Mmmfff!"
"Begging for mercy? Hmm. Maybe after another round of Bone-Splitting, Tendon-Twisting treatment."
"GhhAAAAHHHHHHH!!"
Crack.
Bones popped with a sickening sound.
Jang Sam's scalp prickled as he watched.
'The Ghost of Xi'an, terrifying? My ass. Compared to this devil, that murderer's nothing but a mangy dog on a hot summer day.'
Because the man screaming before them was the Ghost of Xi'an himself.
Wi Jicheon had wandered the streets alone, following Cheongsong's directions, radiating a faint aura of bright, inviting energy.
The demon had taken the bait instantly, dragging him back to his lair—
—and was now the one screaming in chains.
After an eternity of agony, Wi Jicheon released the pressure point sealing his breath.
"Spare me! Please! I didn't recognize Your Excellency as a Demon Lord! I don't know if you hail from the Holy Mountain or the Demon Palace, but I swear I've always recited the sacred precepts in my heart—"
"I don't recall the precepts saying anything about murdering women and children to steal their life force."
"GhhhAAAAHHH!"
Wi Jicheon struck another point. The Ghost convulsed in pain, body jerking helplessly.
When he could breathe again, he didn't even dare speak — only watched the boy in horror.
His cherubic face made it worse.
'He's not some petty demon… he's a true Demon Lord! Probably from the Heavenly Demon Cult! Only those lunatics smile like that!'
To be fair, anyone who cultivated demonic energy was called a demon practitioner — and that did include Wi Jicheon.
But in his past life, he had been considered more of an unorthodox cultivator than a demon, having once belonged to the Sado Alliance rather than any demonic sect.
"What cultivation art did you practice?"
"The… Yin-Mixed Demon Art!"
"Recite the formula."
"…What?"
He hesitated.
The Yin-Mixed Art was a shabby technique — nowhere near first-rate. Why would someone like this boy want to hear it?
When Wi Jicheon's fingers twitched again, the Ghost blurted it all out in terror.
Wi Jicheon folded his arms and listened, eyes closed halfway.
A crude, filthy art.
No real demon master would ever bother with it.
Yet he memorized every syllable, tracing the lines in his mind as if reading scripture.
Moments later—
Paat!
A faint, shadowy energy rose from his hand.
He had already mastered it.
He merged the demonic energy cultivated through his Bloodline Devil Art and released it in the form of Yin-Mixed Energy.
Normally, mixing different demonic techniques would lead to disastrous backlash, since each had its own temperament.
But with the stabilizing power of Heavenly Zenith Divine Art, Wi Jicheon had nothing to fear.
'Not bad. Once I remove the side effects, it might even be useful. After all, the original technique behind the Bloodline Devil Art wasn't that impressive either.'
Of course, this wasn't really about learning a new art.
He placed his fingers once more on the Ghost's wrist.
"W-What are you doing?"
That flat, emotionless gaze — colder than any demon's.
The Ghost screamed, sensing death itself.
"No! Spare me! You don't know who I serve! My master will—"
"Your master? The Blood Cult?"
"H-How did you—?!"
"Who else would teach gutter-trash like you such filth?"
Wi Jicheon spoke without interest.
The martial world's balance was divided among five great powers — the Three Alliances and Two Cults:
the Martial Alliance, the Noble Alliance, the Sado Alliance, and the two demonic sects — the Demon Cult and the Blood Cult.
Their strength was so evenly matched that large-scale wars seldom erupted, but beneath the surface, the struggle was constant.
'The Blood Cult must be plotting something in Xi'an. They always start small — planting agents in clans or sects before corrupting them from within.'
He knew their ways well.
'Whatever game they're playing, it's none of my business. Huashan or Zhongnan will deal with it eventually. It's probably just one of their lesser branches anyway.'
The Blood Cult's leader — the Blood Demon — had once been suspected of orchestrating the Divine Healer's downfall.
But Wi Jicheon doubted it.
'No matter how rotten Baekseon House became, they wouldn't stoop to partnering with a cult like that. If there's a hand behind it, it's more likely from the Noble Alliance — the Prosperity King, the Martial Emperor, or the Sword Immortal. None of them seem the type… but appearances deceive.'
His eyes darkened.
He remembered Sama So's warning about the Anti-Heaven Society.
The obstacles before the Divine Healer's House loomed larger than ever.
The answer, however, was unchanged.
'The Divine Healer's House must grow strong. For its sake, I will become a demon if I must.'
He poured demonic energy into the Ghost's meridians.
"!!!"
The man convulsed, unable even to scream, and died with eyes wide open.
The death was so hideous that even Jang Sam shuddered.
'…I'd better watch myself from now on.'
Any ease or complacency he'd felt recently evaporated. His loyalty — or at least his fear — blazed anew.
Then Wi Jicheon turned to him.
"Jang Sam."
"Please, just call me Jangga, Young Master! I am Jangga!"
"Fine, Jangga. Take a look at the body."
Swallowing hard, Jang Sam crouched beside the corpse.
Even for a man who'd seen countless deaths, the expression frozen on the Ghost's face was beyond horrifying.
"What do you see?"
"…I see traces of Your Excellency's heavenly demonic power. A perfection that would rival even the Demon Lords of the Heavenly Demon Cult—"
Wi Jicheon's cold stare made him snap his mouth shut.
'How would I know what goes on in that twisted head of yours?!'
Wi Jicheon shook his head and tapped the corpse's grotesquely bent limbs.
"Doesn't this remind you of something?"
'Huh?'
A memory surfaced — something Cheongsong had said earlier.
The Ghost's victims were found with their limbs twisted at strange angles. Likely a signature of his demonic technique.
Meaning Wi Jicheon had recreated the Ghost's own handiwork exactly.
"Do you know why I did that?"
"You're… going to imitate the Ghost's murders?"
"What? Don't be ridiculous. I'm a physician — I don't go around killing people."
It took every ounce of Jang Sam's self-control not to explode.
"Y-Yes, of course. You're the scion of a healer's house. Then… why?"
"Ever heard the saying, 'He who gives the disease also gives the cure'?"
Wi Jicheon gazed toward the direction of the Seojia estate.
That man had once brought ruin to the Divine Healer's House. As its descendant, it was only right for Wi Jicheon to deliver judgment.
But he wouldn't just punish.
He'd also cure.
After all, he was a physician — one who saved lives.
"Of course," he murmured, "the medicine won't be free. The price will be… rather expensive."