The Return of the Crazy Demon-Chapter 255: I Won Again Today

The Mohists were a faction within the Hundred Schools of Thought that assisted smaller nations against stronger ones. Their opposition to conquest stemmed from this principle.

In the logic of Jianghu, that meant they opposed either the Demonic Cult or the Martial Alliance taking control over the entire world.

Anyway, I learned one more thing.

Apparently, all the Scholars now knew who I was. Fame really is a terrifying thing. Especially as the leader of Haomun, I couldn’t afford to turn the entire Scholar faction into my enemy.

Making enemies of everyone was just plain foolish.

Since the Scholars operated independently anyway, it was probably smarter to categorize them: some as allies, some as neutral, and some as bastards to be beaten to death.

Still, I twisted the direction of the conversation.

“What if you don’t hear how the Blind Scholar died from me?”

Yeo Un-byeok gave a very Mohist-like answer.

“What I want to know is simple. Surely you weren’t the one who attacked him first. You must have joined in to support the Beggars’ Sect Leader, and the Blind Scholar died in the process.”

“That’s accurate.”

Yeo Un-byeok looked at me.

“If you’re not lying, then what I see isn’t the full story. Your strategy must’ve been stronger than his martial arts. If you fought to protect the Beggars’ Sect Leader, then we have no issue. But since it was the White-Robed Scholar who said it, I couldn’t believe it easily. I had to see for myself.”

It almost seemed like he’d intentionally caused a stir by skipping payment to Yongdu Cheolbang.

I couldn’t help but ask what I was curious about.

“Do the Scholar factions have a leader?”

Yeo Un-byeok looked around at us and replied,

“Do the three of you divide yourselves into leader and subordinate?”

The youngest, the Lecher, answered.

“Of course not.”

Yeo Un-byeok nodded.

“Same for us. But we do understand each other’s strengths. Who’s best at martial arts, who’s fastest with light footwork, who crafts the best weapons...”

Now I understood why they had placed that weapon order in the first place.

“...Your people must be better at making weapons.”

All Mohists were artisans by nature. That meant old man Geum still wasn’t quite at their level.

Yeo Un-byeok nodded in agreement.

“We’ve put in quite the effort. Even among the Scholars, everyone’s interests differ. Some still crave power. Others live like the old Taoists, wanting nothing. That, in fact, is the essence of the Hundred Schools—each living according to their own philosophy. But no matter what, with time, things tend to warp.”

At this point, Yeo Un-byeok had shared quite a bit about their inner workings.

I mentally sorted through what he said.

Martial experts among Scholars: Cheonak, or someone who could rival him. Those living a desireless life: Taoist lineage. Experts in light footwork: Swift ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Party leader. Those craving power: likely the White-Robed Scholar.

That line about things warping over time probably referred to a portion of the Scholar faction. Meaning, Yeo Un-byeok had stayed relatively true to his Mohist roots.

Since I had received some insider knowledge, I finally offered something in return.

“You might not agree, but the Blind Scholar was arrogant.”

“Was he? In what way?”

“Losing his eyesight was a major weakness, but he didn’t acknowledge it due to his arrogance. He probably thought years of training had compensated for it. That pride—‘Even without sight, I’m equal to, no, stronger than other Scholars.’ It radiated from him.”

“You exploited that?”

“Exploiting weaknesses is the foundation of combat. From start to finish, I targeted his blindness.”

Of course, it all started with running away.

Yeo Un-byeok assessed me.

“You’re a cold and frightening man.”

He stroked his chin for a moment, then spoke as if realizing something.

“If he considered that a weakness... Then his subordinates may have been more of a hindrance than a help. He might’ve been stronger fighting alone. If you maneuvered the situation that far, then he was completely defeated. Raw strength isn’t everything.”

Both the Drunk and the Lecher nodded in agreement.

This time, the Lecher lifted the wine bottle.

“Let’s have a drink.”

We accepted our cups. The atmosphere had shifted slightly—so had the way the wine sounded as it poured.

Yeo Un-byeok, holding his cup, asked me,

“So now, you’re keeping an eye on both the Demonic Cult and the Scholars. How do you plan to survive? Frankly, I’ve never seen a man with as many enemies as you. Earlier, when you visited Woonhyang Sect, you nearly made me your enemy as well.”

The alcohol I barely drank suddenly sobered me up.

“Oh, did I? But having many enemies is just something I’ve come to terms with. I may not be one of the Hundred Schools, but I’ve chosen a path—and that comes with hardship.”

Yeo Un-byeok raised his cup.

“Mind sharing that path as a side dish to the drink?”

We looked at each other, then drank again. At some point, Jomsoi had left snacks on the table, but no one touched them.

Revealing my beliefs to a Scholar now felt akin to the old tradition of philosophers traveling the land, spreading their teachings.

And preaching’s never easy.

I gestured vaguely toward the merchants, pedestrians, and workers around us—all of whom belonged to Yeo Un-byeok’s faction.

“I have so many enemies... because I chose to stand with people like them. It’s not something special. It’s just that I used to be Jomsoi. Getting by wasn’t easy. More was stolen from me than I ever earned. I don’t know what kind of confidence it was, but I believed if I learned martial arts, I could beat to death those who learned it before me. It wasn’t some blind revenge against the world. I only went after those like them—like the ones who’d slap a tavern boy without hesitation. Have you ever been slapped, Master Yeo?”

He shook his head.

“Not yet.”

“Try imagining it.”

Yeo Un-byeok touched his cheek.

“If there’s no reason to endure it, I’d draw my sword.”

“What if the other person’s stronger?”

“Then I’d fight. Win or lose, that’s just the result.”

“And if you died—no regrets?”

“No regrets.”

“What if you had elderly parents at home waiting for dinner?”

His expression faltered.

“...Then I’d try to hold back my anger.”

I nodded.

“That’s how most people are. They endure a lot. That’s why I have so many enemies. I guess... I get beaten in their place.”

I turned to the Lecher.

“You know that feeling—being beaten in someone else’s place?”

He grinned.

“I know it. It’s not so bad.”

Yeo Un-byeok also chuckled faintly.

“So that’s why you rushed all the way here over the Yongdu Cheolbang matter?”

“Exactly. Nothing more, nothing less.” 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

“And if you get killed by someone you can’t handle? Wait, better yet—what if you had an old mother at home? Could you still act like this?”

I poured drinks for the three of them and answered.

“Sorry, but I don’t have a family. No plans to make one, either. I’m alone. Sometimes, that’s the reason I go off the rails. And if I lose? Who knows...”

I pointed at the Drunk and the Lecher.

“They’ll take over my work.”

The Lecher glared.

“Why me?”

I pointed only at the Drunk.

“Fourth son’s too immature. Master Yukhap will take it.”

The Drunk remained silent.

Yeo Un-byeok turned to him.

“You’ll accept that? Haomun Leader’s will?”

The Drunk looked at him, then nodded.

“If he asks me, I’ll take it.”

“No regrets?”

With a slight smile, the Drunk replied,

“Sorry to say, but I have no family either. My master and fellow disciples are all gone. So to uphold my will, I’m prepared to go off the rails too.”

Exactly. That reckless madness is how the Drunk and the Crazy Demon earned their names in my past life.

Though this time, our direction is different.

Yeo Un-byeok asked me,

“So this story... it’s the reason Haomun was founded?”

“That’s right.”

After drinking, he looked at me.

“...If Master Mozi were here, he would have been pleased to speak with you.”

“Hm.”

At first, I didn’t understand, but that was the highest compliment Yeo Un-byeok could give me. Mozi was the founder of the Mohists.

Yeo Un-byeok then called out to the crowd,

“Those who aren’t busy, come greet them. This is Yi Zaha, Leader of Haomun. These are his companions, Prince Mong Yeon and Master Yukhap.”

People gathered from all directions, clasping their hands.

“Greetings, Sect Leader. Prince Mong. Master Yukhap.”

Since we were greeting members of the Mohists, we stood up awkwardly. Shaking hands was much easier than shedding blood with them. It was a little awkward, but we exchanged glances and nodded respectfully. Thankfully, it didn’t drag on—they bowed as a group and stepped back.

Once we sat again, Yeo Un-byeok said,

“...If you ever need help, ask. We are defenders by nature. When it comes to values worth protecting, we give our lives. It’s been that way since long ago.”

That is the essence of the Mohists.

Thankfully, Yeo Un-byeok was a man who hadn’t lost that core. If I had assumed all Scholars were enemies, I would’ve missed that truth while fighting him.

But I am who I am.

“Maybe I’ll need help, maybe not. But I’ll also offer this: If you ever come under pressure from other Scholars with different beliefs, or clash with the Demonic Cult, come to Haomun. I protect workers. Since your people all earn their living through honest work, Haomun will protect them too. I may not be the head of some grand faction, but I’ll come myself.”

Better that I help the Mohists than expect help from them. I’m not even sure who protected them in the past.

Yeo Un-byeok clasped his hands together and looked at me.

“I’ll take that goodwill to heart.”

It wasn’t an empty gesture, but since he responded like that, I found myself unsure what to say. I almost let it pass—but I’m not one to do that.

“Master Yeo, to give and receive help—that’s how we step out into the world. That’s not corruption. It’s growth.”

Now that I thought about it, the Mohists never asked for help even when under attack. Their identity as masters of defense made them proud. In a way, they were all like the Sword Demon—prideful to the core.

But now they’d run into me.

Yeo Un-byeok hesitated, then answered.

“Honestly, I’m not sure when we’d need help. But refusing outright wouldn’t be polite. Instead, as an apology for the weapon order issue, we’ll forge a Mohist Sword and gift it to you first. If you like it, then help us when we call. Which of the three of you will wield it?”

I shivered slightly.

I didn’t need it—I already had my wooden sword. The Lecher focused on palm techniques based on ice arts.

But the Drunk was a defensive type from the start. His philosophy aligned closely with the Mohists.

I looked at him.

“Master Yukhap is the last survivor of the Yukhap Clan. He’s finished his revenge, but the weight remains. If you’re going to name the sword, name it Yukhap Sword.”

The Drunk looked startled.

“Me? What about the fourth?”

The Lecher shook his head.

“I don’t train with swords. Not my specialty. The third already has one, so it’s your turn.”

Watching the Lecher talk down to his older brothers in front of Yeo Un-byeok was hilariously refreshing.

Yeo Un-byeok asked the Drunk,

“Can we engrave the name Yukhap Sword on it?”

The socially awkward Drunk was so surprised he said nothing. The Lecher grabbed both his hands and forced him into a respectful pose like he was playing with a kid.

“...Let’s do that. Thank you.”

The Lecher said on his behalf,

“He agrees. Go ahead.”

Finally, the Drunk composed himself and addressed Yeo Un-byeok.

“Thank you, Master Yeo. To a martial artist, a sword is—”

I cut him off.

“Shut it.”

“...”

“Just say thanks. Of course a sword is important. What else would it be? Are you going to say ‘It’s like one’s life’? Something dramatic like that?”

The Drunk closed his eyes and inhaled slowly.

“....”

Then he exhaled deeply and opened them again.

“...Thanks to the third, my spiritual training deepens daily. I should take it positively.”

The Lecher nodded seriously beside him.

“Congrats. Spiritual growth is a good thing.”

We all glanced at Yeo Un-byeok. For some reason, he was clenching his jaw a little harder than before.

I clicked my tongue silently. If someone sees a pathetic scene, the normal thing is to laugh. But he was holding it in. What a tragic man.

I grabbed the wine bottle.

“Let’s drink.”

And this is what I believe:

In the end, we got a top-grade sword. So once again, I won today.

I poured a celebratory drink for all three of them.

To Yeo Un-byeok—for the fortune of not making me his enemy.

To the Drunk—for receiving a sword worthy of passing on to a disciple someday.

To the Lecher—for being there to mooch off it all.

And for myself—a little congratulatory sip... for not breaking everything in sight for once.

Pour...