Chapter 192: The Diary (2)
TL: FoodieMonster007
Baek Suryong's eyes trembled as he flipped through the diary left behind by the real Baek Suryong, whose life had taken a tragic turn after the 'accident' where he'd collapsed, unconscious, from practicing a forbidden demonic art.
He dreamed about being me?
As far as he knew, the real Baek Suryong had secretly learned a faulty demonic art to overcome the Heavenly Yin Severed Meridians and died as a result. After that, his own soul, which had perished in the Blood Cult fifty years ago, entered this empty body.
…At least, that was what he had firmly believed until now.
Since he didn't have any evidence to the contrary, and no memories of being 'Baek Suryong', he had always assumed that he was merely a wandering spirit who had inadvertently possessed a corpse. Alternatively, perhaps the Heavenly Yin Severed Meridians had somehow summoned him, who knew the Heaven Defying Divine Art, into this empty vessel.
However, if what's written in this diary is true, then…
A new possibility gnawed at his mind. What if he hadn't taken over Baek Suryong's body, but instead, reincarnated as Baek Suryong? What if, as a result of meddling with a faulty demonic art, Baek Suryong himself had sacrificed all memories of his present life in order to awaken his former life's ones?
"W-Wouldn't that mean… I'm the real Baek Suryong?" he stuttered, his voice shaking.
He turned another page, but the words became blurry, slipping through his mind as his thoughts drifted back to Baek Muheun's queer expression when he had handed over the diary."…You'll understand once you read it. I think it's best if you read it by yourself, so I'm heading to bed now. Goodnight, son."
Even though it wasn't intentional, he always felt a lingering guilt towards Baek Muheun for possessing the body of his deceased son. Thus, one of the reasons he'd jumped at the chance to leave for the Azure Dragon Academy was to put some distance between himself and the man.
After all, he couldn't keep up the pretense of being Baek Muheun's son forever. If they stayed together too long, the truth would come out eventually.
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No, I suspect he might have already caught on to me. After all, back when we climbed the mountain in search of Maeng Ho'ak's hidden stash…
"Hey, are you really my son?"1
"Spurt! Cough, cough! What kind of a question is that?"
In retrospect, it was only natural for Baek Muheun to be suspicious. Not only had his son's personality changed overnight, he had also recognized demonic arts at a glance, suggested digging up miracle herbs, and announced that he wanted to become an instructor at the Azure Dragon Academy.
"In the past, you used to curse your weak body and blame me and your mother for it, but now… you just climbed over several mountains without a single complaint. Also, you never talked about looking for a job and earning money. All you wanted to do was practice martial arts. You weren't even interested in teaching the kids."
"After I died and came back to life, I began to see the world around me in a different light."
At the time, he thought he had brushed off Baek Muheun's suspicions seamlessly, but his father must have seen through his pretense and searched for answers ever since… answers which he'd found in this diary.
"……" Baek Suryong stared blankly at the diary. His eyes were fixed on the words, but his mind drifted, tangled in a web of complicated thoughts that kept the contents from registering in his mind.
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If I truly am Baek Suryong, then… doesn't that make Baek Muheun my real father? And Mae Geuklyom, my grandfather? And Mae Yakbing… my mother?
"Those people are my… real family?"
In his previous life, he had never known what it meant to be part of a family. As far back as he could remember, he'd been an orphan, fighting tooth and nail just to survive even before the Blood Cult kidnapped him. He had met several women along the way, but he'd never dared to marry them, fearing that his job would expose them to danger.
"Family…"
Until now, he'd deliberately avoided thinking too deeply about such things. He figured that since fate had given him a second life, he should live as he pleased. For the family who saw him as Baek Suryong, he'd felt that it was enough to play the role of a good son and grandson.
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Still, he'd always kept a safe distance in his heart, knowing he was not their Baek Suryong.
Now, however, the possibility that these people might be his real family made him feel like his entire world had changed.
"Sigh… I'm getting ahead of myself," Baek Suryong laughed weakly, biting his lip.
It was all still speculation and imagination. Nothing was certain.
"I should finish reading this first."
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and forced himself to focus on reading the diary.
Me, a Blood Cult martial arts instructor? It was so absurd that I thought it was just a crazy dream at first.
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"Pfft! Yeah, that's understandable." he chuckled, turning the page.
Ever since I was young, I often dreamed of becoming a martial master and wandering the jianghu. Therefore, although these dreams were strange, I didn't think they were anything special.
Until I kept having the same dream, over and over.
In my dream, I was a cold, ruthless man with a natural gift for martial arts, someone who quickly rose above his rivals and caught the attention of the Cult's leaders.
Damn, seeing my life through someone else's eyes feels weird.
He was so exceptional that he quickly rose to become the youngest ever member of the Cult Leader's personal guard, despite having no ties to any elders or the Blood Cult's eight great families. For a time, his future was more promising than anyone else his age. But, that didn't last long…
Baek Suryong closed his eyes for a moment. He already knew the tragedy that would follow next.
While training, the man injured his qi center and lost the ability to use inner arts. Sensing his weakness, those who envied him closed in like a pack of wolves pouncing on fresh prey.
"How incredibly detailed," he whispered, smiling bitterly.
The diary captured his life as a Blood Cult martial arts instructor with startling precision, recording even the smallest details he himself could barely recall.
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After that, the man nearly died several times, but his tenacity and persistence eventually wore out his enemies, and they gave up. He survived and became a martial arts instructor.
With outstanding insight that allowed him to understand any martial arts after seeing it once, and with the determination to never give up, it didn't take long for him to become the best instructor in the Blood Cult.
Many random slice-of-life stories filled the pages. Growing impatient, he flipped quickly toward the end of the book.
One day, the man was introduced to four absolute masters of the previous generation who had been captured and imprisoned by the Blood Cult: the Bandit King, the Crazy Demon, the Ice Moon Goddess, and the Sword Saint.
Planning to create an army of martial masters to conquer the murim, the Blood Cult ordered the man to learn the four masters' ultimate techniques. He did as he was told, persuading the four masters to teach him their martial arts and in turn training disciples, but the Blood Cult still planned to dispose of the man after using him.
Fools. Did they really think that he wouldn't find out? Or did they think that even if he knew, he wouldn't be able to oppose them?
And so, the man and the absolute masters plotted their escape…
He skipped the next few pages. The rest he already knew. His story ended with the fight against the students he had taught, the appearance of the Blood Demon, and lastly, their failed escape and death.
However, that wasn't the end of the diary.
I am now certain that this was no mere dream. The man was real, and he was instrumental in bringing about the downfall of the Blood Cult.
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"So what if all of it was real? What does it matter now…?" he laughed, both flattered and bemused.
Even though their deeds are not recorded in the history of the murim, I remember them. The man in the dream and the four absolute masters… they are the heroes who saved the world.
He never thought he would hear such praise for his past self. Chuckling, he flipped to the last remaining pages.
Well, the man's story may be over, but through his experiences, I've found a clue to curing my illness.
"What? Oh no, he didn't…"
As the Blood Cult's top martial arts instructor, the man read and analyzed numerous martial arts manuals every day, and was familiar with most of the Blood Cult's techniques. Intrigued, I wrote them down every time I woke up from the dream.
"THAT DAMNED FOOL!"
Realizing what his past self had done, his eyes widened in horror. Trying to reproduce martial arts seen in a dream was suicide. No matter how vivid, dreams were bound to be fragmented and distorted. As proof, some of the stories written in the diary differed from his own memories.
…Eventually, I came to the conclusion that if I learned the Heaven Defying Divine Art, I could overcome the problems associated with my constitution.
"Of all things, why the Heaven Defying Divine Art?! That's the most tricky one!"
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Like other supreme martial arts, the Heaven Defying Divine Art couldn't be mastered by simply following the formula. The guidance of a skilled teacher was essential. Back then, even he had to rely on his four masters' wisdom to learn it.
I will write down the formula of the Heaven Defying Divine Art here.
From the moment the Heaven Defying Divine Art was mentioned, the diary was written in the cipher used by the Blood Cult.
He carefully examined the formula. Instantly, he felt a strange twist in his gut.
As expected, it's wrong.
The formula was incorrect. Only a few phrases were wrong, but even changing those few phrases could alter the meaning completely, resulting in a flawed martial art.
"Wait… huh?"
This martial art… it isn't defective? Given all the changes, I can't really call it the Heaven Defying Divine Art anymore, but technically, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it? It's just connected in an unusual way…
"Was this just an accident, or…"
The creation of a new martial art through the reinterpretation of an existing one, especially an ultimate martial art at the level of the Heaven Defying Divine Art, wasn't something just anyone could do.
Should I dismiss this as mere coincidence? Or… did my past self do this intentionally?
Honestly, I'm terrified. I know I'm making a dangerous gamble, one that could cost me my life. If I'm lucky enough to succeed, that would be ideal, but there's also a chance that I'll explode or go completely crazy.
"If you're scared, then you shouldn't have done it, you dumbass."
The handwriting was jumbled, the words barely legible. He could imagine his past self penning this final diary entry like someone drafting a will.
If you′re seeing this, you are at the wrong place.
Still, I'd rather risk everything than die without even trying. The last thing I want is to continue being a burden to those important to me. Please, let me be able to write the next page, and if I fail… it would be best if I didn't survive.
The diary ended there.
He silently read the diary again, then carefully scrutinized the modified Heaven Defying Divine Art. Many questions swirled in his mind, yet after reviewing the formula, only one thought took root.
"I have to try this," he muttered, sitting down cross-legged.
I don't know why, but something about this strange martial art really gnaws at me.
Learning an unverified martial art without caution could easily lead to qi deviation, but with the Heaven Defying Divine Art now at the seventh star, he felt confident in his ability to limit the damage.
He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Up until the middle, the modified martial art mirrored the Heaven Defying Divine Art almost perfectly, making it manageable. After that, however, the qi circulation path shifted drastically, causing an intense accumulation of qi inside his head, where the upper dantian was located.
DONG!
Suddenly, he heard a bell ring. His consciousness began to fade, but he didn't stop channeling his qi. Somehow, he instinctively knew that this phenomenon was the intended effect of the martial art.
This is…
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Moments later, he felt himself drifting away from reality, sinking into the depths of unconsciousness.
He awoke to the sharp, metallic stench of blood lingering in the air. A ring of intense, predatory eyes bore down on him, each one sharpened to a point that prickled his skin like a barrage of needles.
"Hey, rookie. Already zoning out on your first day?"
The fiends of the Blood Dragon Unit, the Blood Demon's personal guard, glared down at him like wolves poised to tear into their prey.
Quotes from Chapter 9. ↵
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