The Return of the Crazy Demon-Chapter 264: Three Bad Men

I took a sip of the Dugangju, which tasted especially bland today, and spoke.

“You know the one who first made Dugangju—Senior Dugang?”

The Lecher looked at me and replied,

“Dugang is your senior?”

“He’s not really a senior.”

“Then why call him that so casually?”

“I’ve never met him, so calling him ‘hyung’ would be weirder, right?”

The Drunk nodded with a serious look.

“That’s fair. He’s a senior.”

I asked the two of them,

“Do you guys know why Senior Dugang’s Dugangju became so famous?”

The Drunk took another sip and grimaced.

“I don’t know, but this place’s version sucks.”

The Lecher also frowned and agreed.

“This is just a knockoff Dugangju. Honestly, it shouldn’t even be allowed to use the name. Not even low-grade.”

I set down my cup too.

“They say Senior Dugang traveled around looking for water to brew good liquor.”

“Who told you that?”

“My grandfather. He said Dugang eventually found a place called Icheon near the Dugang River. So did he make Dugangju in Icheon? No. He searched every nook and cranny of the area, traced a stream upstream, and discovered a spring. The water was so clear and tasty, you could drink it as is. That’s where Dugangju began.”

“So?”

“Now the brewing method for Dugangju is well-known. You can find it in inns like this or shady street stalls. But the truly good ones are rare. The method got passed down, but brewers don’t go through the effort of finding good water. Maybe some black market middlemen got involved in the distribution chain. The secret behind Dugangju’s taste wasn’t the method, but the water used. Let’s go. I’ve lost my taste for it.”

The Drunk nodded.

“Even Dugang, known as the Liquor Immortal, searched for good water. Yet these fools who learned only the technique dare slap the name ‘Dugangju’ on cheap knockoffs and sell them. No wonder it tastes awful.”

The Lecher finally smelled the pot.

“That’s why the water tasted off from the start.”

I nodded.

“Same with Jianghu. Everyone knows sword techniques and palm strikes, but truly strong men are rare. You have to be someone like the Beggars’ Sect Leader to be called the strongest in the world.”

The Lecher suddenly looked interested.

“Then did the Sect Leader go around looking for mystical elixirs too?”

This bastard clearly isn’t normal. The way he thinks is a bit like me.

I looked at the Lecher and replied,

“What I meant is that the Sect Leader, like Senior Dugang, never forgot his original purpose in mastering martial arts. Just like water is key to brewing liquor.”

“So what was the original purpose?”

I raised my bland Dugangju cup and answered,

“Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t to pick up women like you.” 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

“Hahaha.”

The Drunk suddenly chuckled, and the Lecher glared at him.

“Laugh my ass off...”

“So what was your original purpose for learning martial arts?”

The Lecher replied,

“I started learning before I could even walk. There wasn’t really a purpose.”

“That’s exactly my point. You have no purpose. But you’re old enough now that you should think about one. Like the Sect Leader or Senior Dugang.”

“What kind of purpose did Senior Dugang have?”

“Probably the liquor itself. That’s why he started with water. A journey without a goal becomes aimless wandering. That’s how Dugangju ends up tasting like this. Their goal wasn’t good liquor—it was money.”

The Lecher said,

“Alright, but why are you suddenly talking this kind of bullshit to me?”

I stared directly at his face.

“Because I’m drunk, dumbass. That’s when bullshit comes out.”

“What bullshit? You spout bullshit even when you’re sober. Then what was your reason for learning martial arts?”

The two of them stared at me, and I answered without much trouble.

“I learned martial arts because my guest house burned down. That fire always feels like it’s watching me. When I close my eyes or meditate, I still see the flames.”

I tapped my chest with my hand.

“It’s the source of my heartburn. It still feels like it’s burning in here. That’s why I drink. Now drink.”

The three of us poured the flavorless Dugangju down our throats. Somewhere inside me, I heard a sizzling sound as the Dugangju fell onto the burning fire within. The image made me laugh.

Suddenly, I turned my head and watched the street.

“......”

The Lecher, who had been reaching for a side dish with chopsticks, also looked out at the street.

We heard someone cursing. A woman with a shocked look was scurrying along, clutching the front of her skirt with both hands. A man with a sword at his waist chased her down and grabbed her by the hair.

Truly a worthless man, but you sometimes see this kind of thing in bar-heavy streets.

A bit tipsy, I said to the man,

“Hey. Use your words.”

But the noise around us drowned me out.

I pulled a chopstick from the holder. If he hit the woman, I was going to throw it.

Before I could move, someone appeared in my field of vision. The Lecher had stepped in and grabbed the man’s arm.

The Drunk looked at me and said,

“The youngest’s already on it. Put the chopstick down. Someone’s gonna die.”

I put the chopstick back in the holder and glared at the Lecher.

He smiled at the man as he held his arm.

“Use your words. Grabbing someone by the hair like that isn’t it.”

“Who the hell are you?”

Unfortunately for him, as soon as he let go of the woman’s hair, he threw a punch at the Lecher’s face.

Naturally, the bad man that the Lecher was, he crushed the guy’s forearm without flinching.

The drunkard let out a scream—

“Guaaaah!”

The Lecher clamped his mouth shut, cutting the scream short. But his expression still screamed in agony. The Lecher had probably hit him with ice energy. The guy thrashed wildly, waving his arms.

Dodging with ease, the Lecher grabbed the man by the back of the neck and slammed him to the ground.

As the Lecher raised his foot, the man scrambled up and ran off.

Only then did I grab a side dish and speak to the Drunk.

“So this is why the liquor tasted bad. Even the neighborhood’s a mess.”

The Lecher helped the frightened woman up and returned without asking any questions.

He barked at us with irritation.

“Order something else.”

“You think different liquor’s gonna help?”

“Then let’s go somewhere else.”

I finished pouring another cup of Dugangju. As I was about to drink, the woman who had followed the Lecher back stood there, trembling, staring at us.

Because of her heavy makeup, she looked older at first glance. But up close, she was younger than I expected.

“Are you being chased?”

She shook her head.

“N-no. Thank you.”

I looked at her trembling hands and asked,

“Then why are you shaking so much?”

“I was scared.”

We quickly found out why she was still shaking.

Shouting erupted, and people in the street scattered as a group of dozens appeared, all armed with swords. The man who’d been beaten pointed at us, clutching his broken arm with a twisted expression.

Her workplace must’ve been nearby.

I met her eyes and gestured toward an empty seat.

“Sit. You’ll be fine.”

She must’ve figured sticking with us was safer than running.

After she sat, the Lecher looked at the «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» armed group with a bothered expression.

He asked us,

“Why do I always have to move? You two just gonna sit there?”

The Drunk replied,

“You asking for help?”

“That’s not it.”

“If the boss gets up, he’ll kill more than half. You handle it.”

Before the Lecher could answer, one of the armed men stepped forward.

“That girl’s one of Giseonhyang’s courtesans. Don’t get involved. Hand her over.”

I asked the woman,

“Why’d you run?”

She answered,

“They tricked me. Said I just had to play instruments. But I didn’t even need to know how to play.”

I picked up where she left off and said to the man,

“...So there you have it. Get lost. Before I drag your boss from Giseonhyang out by the hair.”

The man laughed, and his laughter spread among the others.

“Hehehehe.”

It made sense. Over twenty of them versus just three of us.

One of them threw in a mocking line:

“Didn’t expect a girl that young to already have a pimp.”

The Lecher tossed his drink.

As the Dugangju flying through the air froze with a crack, one of the men spun and hit the ground, unconscious.

I poured the woman a glass of Dugangju and said,

“So why is this Dugangju so tasteless?”

She replied,

“That’s why I don’t drink it.”

“Still, times like this call for a drink.”

The woman, the Drunk, and I all took a drink while we watched the Lecher approach the goons.

He was a naturally violent man, so watching him fight was entertaining.

Bone-breaking sounds echoed often.

But since it wasn’t my bones, it wasn’t unpleasant.

He fought on the left, then the right. When he was surrounded, he jumped into the air, smashing shoulders and skulls mid-flight. It didn’t take long to beat down over twenty swordsmen.

He could’ve killed them all instantly using ice energy. But maybe because the Dugangju tasted bad, he beat them all with fists and kicks, breaking bones one by one. It could’ve escalated into a major incident, but since I hadn’t thrown a punch, I wasn’t too worried.

The Lecher grabbed the most intact-looking man and said,

“Any more of you? Spit it out. Don’t make me get up while drinking. What, we goin’ to Giseonhyang next? You fuckers?”

Was he a drunk? The Lecher? Or perhaps Lord Mong Yeon?

I said to the woman,

“Giseonhyang’ll be busy cleaning this up. You should leave now.”

She said nervously,

“Those men are Giseonhyang’s guards.”

“So?”

“Giseonhyang pays tribute to Heukhyang.”

I blinked in confusion at the name of a black-market auction group I hadn’t heard in a while.

“Heukhyang?”

“You know them?”

Maybe I was drunk, but for a moment I confused past and present. I remembered beating the hell out of Heukhyang’s auction officials after mastering Golden Nine Free-Wandering Manual. The kind of auction where they sell everything imaginable—and even things you don’t want to imagine. That’s Heukhyang.

Now I understood why this Dugangju tasted so bad.

I asked the well-informed Drunk,

“You know Heukhyang?”

“Never heard of it. Why? Are they famous?”

I asked the returning Lecher too.

“You ever hear of Heukhyang?”

“Nope. Where are they?”

“They’re a black-market force Giseonhyang pays tribute to.”

“Oh, that so?”

Neither of them reacted much to the name. Naturally. But if I told them what I knew, they wouldn’t just sit quietly.

I hesitated.

In my past life, I went wild and wiped out that black-market force by myself. Just like when I killed the Twin Phantom Blades of Heukseonbo, the feeling was... odd. Killing someone again whom I’d already killed once gave a strange sense of guilt.

Hard to describe, but deeply unpleasant.

I took another sip of the flavorless Dugangju and sorted my thoughts. Why did it feel so strange to face enemies I’d already killed?

“Hm.”

Here’s the conclusion.

Back then, I fought Heukhyang with my life on the line. I had to go berserk and kill them all just to survive. But now I’m much stronger than when I first learned the Golden Nine Free-Wandering Manual. These Heukhyang bastards? They’re no longer my match.

Is it some kind of primal guilt from slaughter?

I asked the recovering woman beside me,

“What kind of people are Heukhyang?”

She answered,

“They deserve to die.”

“Why?”

“They auction off children.”

I’d deliberately drawn that answer out—just to see the expressions on the Drunk and the Lecher.

The Drunk spoke with a calm face.

“Then we’ve got to go kill them.”

In my case, it would be killing them again. I glanced at the Lecher to check his thoughts.

The Lecher said,

“I may be a scoundrel, but come on. Let’s go.”

I joked,

“If we kill too many, they might put bounties on us.”

The Lecher looked unconcerned.

“You’re close with the Alliance Leader. See? That’s why networking matters. Just explain it well later. I doubt they’ll believe me.”

I stood up and said,

“Let’s go. This is exactly why I learned martial arts—to go berserk like this.”

Thinking about it, whether I’d killed them in my past life or not didn’t matter.

What mattered was killing the ones who deserved it.

And this time, both the Lecher and the Drunk would see Heukhyang’s business with their own eyes.