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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: A Father's Embrace
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"Son~ I got chicken!"
Yong-un's childhood wasn't abundant, but they never went without.
That voice always rang out just as his father, Jung-hwan, finished work and came home.
The greasy paper bag clutched in his father's massive hand, like a pot lid, never failed to chase away sleep for Yong-un and his siblings.
Memories...
Jung-hwan's towering height, once impossibly tall to a child's eyes, and his sturdy frame that seemed like it could shield them from any hardship.
"I-Is that really my son, Yong-un?"
But the pillar of strength that Jung-hwan had been was gone now.
In his place stood a frail, sickly man who had finally found his lost son.
"Father..."
Yong-un had thought the word "father" had vanished from his life.
Yet gazing at Jung-hwan, with his hair streaked gray here and there, it slipped out as naturally and familiarly as ever.
"Son..."
Jung-hwan's eyes reddened, tears spilling over.
Yong-un, who had never seen his father cry in his entire life, understood in that moment. He stepped forward slowly, wrapping his arms around Jung-hwan just as he would to share in his emotions.
"Why have you grown so thin?"
Time had been cruel.
They say no one can stand against the ravages of time.
The sight of Jung-hwan, who had always reigned as the world's greatest in Yong-un's heart, so emaciated now—it carved a deep wound into his chest.
"Seeing you healthy like this is enough. Yeah, that's all I needed."
His father's thinned arms still held surprising strength, squeezing Yong-un so tightly it felt like his body might shatter.
Yong-un, who had emerged unscathed from the Iron Claw Grip of Master Dokyung, one of the Murim Alliance's famed experts.
Yet Jung-hwan's embrace crumbled Yong-un's iron body and resolve in an instant, like a sandcastle before the tide.
How much heartache must he have endured...
The grief of a parent who lost a child...
And the joy of finding that child again...
Yong-un couldn't even begin to imagine it.
"No matter if they're third-rate, Flower Realm experts, weaklings or masters—before their parents, they're all just big kids."
Those words from Muhae, the old head of the Wudang Sect, finally made sense now.
"Father..."
Back then, he'd dismissed it as monkish nonsense, but experiencing it firsthand hit different.
"Son..."
Flower Realm? Present Realm? None of it mattered.
To Yong-un, his father Jung-hwan was the supreme master of the martial world incarnate.
Feeling the warmth of his father's embrace, Yong-un slowly closed his eyes.
"Hic..."
Then, from behind, came the sound of Myung-un stifling sobs.
Yong-un opened his eyes to look back at his brother, but Jung-hwan grabbed his hand.
"What happened? Son, what on earth went down that day?"
In that voice mingling sorrow and joy, Yong-un gazed at his tear-streaked face and smiled.
"I'm sorry. I'll tell you everything once you're feeling better. I just came to see your face today—I'll come back tomorrow."
"Yeah, let's do that. I don't think there's been a happier day than this. I could die right now without regrets, haha!"
Jung-hwan caressed Yong-un's face, beaming with a radiant smile.
"I'm overjoyed too. And..."
Yong-un returned the smile toward his father—a genuine one he had never shown even once during his days as the Sword Demon.
"I'll make you better. Don't worry."
"Hahaha!"
Jung-hwan, seemingly missing Yong-un's quiet vow, filled the room with the happiest laughter imaginable.
Then it's time to begin.
The moment had arrived.
He'd seen his father and assessed his condition fully.
Now came the reason Yong-un had sought this place first: to act on it.
For a brief instant, Yong-un's eyes flushed a deep crimson-black before returning to normal.
Then, Jung-hwan's bright smile faded as his eyes slowly glazed over.
"Father, you're too weak right now. Rest up and regain your strength—then tomorrow, we can finish our talk."
"Listening to my son... suddenly feeling sleepy..."
Watching Jung-hwan's eyes drift shut, Yong-un released the wrist he'd somehow taken hold of.
He caught his father's back as he slumped and gently laid him on the bed.
"Bro, why'd Dad suddenly...?"
Myung-un hurried to the bedside, worry etched on his face at the sight of Jung-hwan passing out like that.
It was natural—he'd been chatting fine moments ago.
After settling Jung-hwan, Yong-un blocked Myung-un's approach with a hand.
"I've got questions."
Standing fully, Yong-un fixed his gaze on Myung-un.
The moment their eyes met, Myung-un paled and staggered back.
"B-Bro?"
Was this the same Yong-un who'd been smiling and talking just now? His eyes had changed completely.
Gone was the warm gaze from his talk with their father—replaced by the murderous glare of a yaksha demon.
Just looking at it sent chills crawling over his skin like insects.
Whoosh.
Ignoring Myung-un's shock, Yong-un turned and strode out of the room.
Left alone, Myung-un bit his lip for a moment.
Seeing Yong-un's angry expression, his face took on a knowing look as he shook his head and followed out.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Outside the closed hospital room door.
Yong-un asked in a low, icy tone.
"What happened?"
"I don't know. It just hit him like that after he collapsed."
"You don't know...? What's the diagnosis?"
"Sudden shock leading to physical and mental exhaustion."
Having only recently returned to this world, "shock" was a new word to Yong-un.
But physical and mental exhaustion?
He furrowed his brow, glaring straight at Myung-un.
"What are you hiding?"
Sensing the mood grow heavier from Yong-un's expression.
Myung-un's forced poker face began to crack.
"I'm not hiding anything."
Then, for some reason, his troubled look shifted to anger.
"Even from family...?"
As Yong-un pressed, the barely contained fury finally erupted.
"Sorry, bro, but whatever happened to you—I don't know, and stop asking. I'll handle it."
"Stop asking? With Father lying there like this, you want me to just sit idle?"
It was the first time he'd seen Myung-un this mad.
But Yong-un couldn't drop it either.
Family—bound by blood, inseparable.
In over forty years in the martial world, Yong-un had never known such ties, but he knew this much: something was wrong.
Right now, through childhood memories, he was starting to grasp what family meant.
"It's poison."
To him, family was proving far more precious than he'd imagined.
That's why he had to uncover the source of the poison afflicting his father.
Poisoning was almost always someone else's doing.
If Myung-un knows who... I'll tear them apart, whoever it is.
Suppressing his rising rage, he pressed harder on Myung-un, who seemed to know something.
"Hiding it from me when Father's like this? Tell me. I'll handle it somehow..."
"Now you want to know?"
But he'd only deluded himself into thinking his anger was under control.
He'd forgotten something crucial.
The twelve-year void he'd left in the family.
In that time, big and small events had unfolded without him.
"What?"
"Whatever happened, bro—do you have any idea how hard it's been for us while you were gone?"
"..."
"After you vanished, Dad dropped everything to search for you. Newspapers, TV, radio—even sold the house to run ads."
Yong-un fell silent.
Myung-un, seeing that, couldn't hold back his rage and pressed on.
"Why do you think Dad collapsed? It's not all on you, but don't pretend it's nothing! Stop prying—just let me handle Dad. Stay out of it!"
Myung-un shouted and stormed out of the hospital, leaving Yong-un behind.
His outburst drew stares from all around.
"Haa..."
Yong-un ignored them, hanging his head.
He leaned back against the wall, letting tension drain from his body.
Yeah, I've been selfish.
He'd thought too simply.
In his memories, his family was always smiling, full of happiness.
And upon his return, their welcoming faces had seemed joyful too.
But that was his illusion.
In the twelve years he'd been gone, many changes had come to the family—none good, shattering the harmony they'd once had.
And he was the cause. Yong-un sighed deeply.
"Haa. I'd react the same. The family wrecker trying to butt in just because he's family."
He shook his head.
But soon, he pushed off the wall.
Clenching his fist, he glanced in Myung-un's direction, then back at Jung-hwan's room.
"Yeah, my fault. Since I caused this, I'll fix it and set things right."
It wasn't intentional, but a sin was a sin.
He didn't know why Myung-un was hiding something or why he'd lashed out so harshly, but Yong-un would set it all right with his own power.
And make everyone happy.
Now, he had the strength for it.
"To do that, Father needs to recover first."
Sensing the steady breathing from inside, Yong-un reached for the door again.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Outside the hospital, Myung-un waited, frowning and kicking idly at the ground.
As time dragged on without Yong-un emerging, unease crept in.
"Haa..."
But he couldn't go back in.
The words he'd hurled at Yong-un replayed in his mind.
"Why'd I say that...? Bro must've been through hell too..."
Truth be told, he hadn't meant to snap like that.
But Yong-un's probing had dodged his evasion, stirring up years of pent-up resentment toward his brother.
The main reason he'd avoided answering, though, was that one word from Yong-un.
'Poison.'
His fist clenched tight at the mere thought.
"Don't worry. I'll find it and crush it."
"Find what?"
As Myung-un muttered what he'd been hiding, Yong-un approached.
Startled, Myung-un averted his eyes.
"Took you long enough."
"Had some things to do."
What could a guy missing for twelve years possibly have to do in a hospital?
He wanted to say it, but Myung-un swallowed the words and headed to the car.
The chilly atmosphere between them was worse than strangers.
In the car, heavy silence hung.
As they pulled away from the hospital, Yong-un broke it.
"Sorry."
Myung-un gripped the wheel tight while driving.
Then, in a subdued voice laced with regret,
"No, I'm sorry."
"Heh."
Grown up, but still his little brother.
It reminded him of their childhood fights and reconciliations—Yong-un chuckled unwittingly.
The tension eased a bit.
Yong-un smiled faintly, gazing out the window to take in the modern scenery.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The next morning.
Yong-un headed straight to his father's room upon waking.
Creak.
Slipping in through the open window, he scratched his head and checked on his sleeping father.
"Sorry, Father. I couldn't use the proper entrance without being seen. Please understand."
The apology went unheard in his sleep, but Yong-un bowed deeply anyway before taking Jung-hwan's wrist.
Demonic qi rose like heat haze around him, threading through Jung-hwan's meridians to reveal his condition.
The Twelve Primary Meridians.
The vital pathways governing the body's key acupoints and channels.
Yet Jung-hwan's were slowly clogging.
Over three agonizing years, bit by bit.
Releasing his hand, Yong-un bit his lip.
This couldn't happen naturally.
Only one cause: poison.
"I don't know which bastard it is yet, but thanks for keeping Father alive until I got here."
Yong-un raised his right hand, summoning not ordinary black demonic qi, but his unique crimson-black variant.
He clenched it tight—the qi exploded in his grasp, scattering outward.
"Time to repay the favor."
The room filled with writhing crimson-black qi, alive as it swirled in the air.
As Yong-un extended his hand, it obeyed, seeping slowly into Jung-hwan's body.
Twitch. Twitch.
Jung-hwan's sleeping form convulsed in response.
Undeterred, Yong-un continued.
"Father will be fully recovered today."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Stepping out, Yong-un brushed off his hands with a smile.
He'd purged the poison slowly killing Jung-hwan, cleared the blocked meridians clean.
And nourished him fully—with good food now, he'd be healthier than before.
Walking the hospital's outdoor path, Yong-un turned back for a deep bow.
"I should've eased your pain even a day sooner—I'm sorry. Yesterday, you were too weak, so I just boosted your energy. Wake soon and punish this unworthy son."
He'd asked for punishment, but the smile lingered on his lips.
Too soon to celebrate, though.
"Now it begins."
Restoring his family—one task down, many left.
Yong-un lifted his head, smile fading, and vanished with the breeze.