The silence that followed the whistle was absolute, a profound stillness that seemed to swallow all sound. The man called ‘boss’ clenched his jaw. When the whistle had been piercing the air, he had prayed for it to end, but now that it was gone, an immense anxiety, born from the silence itself, washed over him. At this rate, he feared one of his men would snap and do something reckless. The brothers beside him were already darting their eyes about wildly, their trembling hands barely able to grip their weapons.

He steeled himself once more and raised his voice. “If you have business with us…”

Clatter. A blade slipped from one of his men’s grasp and fell to the ground. He whipped his head around, then breathed a short sigh of relief. The man had only been startled by the sound of his own voice.

Damnation. He quickly wiped away the cold sweat that trickled down his forehead.

His crew was well-seasoned. From kidnapping and human trafficking to contract killings, there was no dirty work they hadn’t touched, and they had built a reputation for it. The biggest reason they had managed to carve out a niche for themselves in this grimy world was their strict, unwavering rule: never get involved with martial artists. They wouldn’t even show their faces at a job if a martial artist was even tangentially related. It was their—his—secret to survival.

After confirming that his man had shakily picked his weapon back up, he continued. “If you have business with us, would you not deign to show yourself?”

He tried his utmost to appear polite, but he could feel his clasped hands trembling uncontrollably. He had never fought a martial artist, but he had seen them on several occasions. The chilling dread he felt when encountering the martial artists of the Unorthodox Path, who stalked through his own organization exuding an oppressive air of killing intent, was a familiar terror.

But he had never felt a tension as horrifying as this. Was this what it felt like to face a martial artist directly? Or… was this something else? Were they facing something fundamentally different?

“—!”

His thoughts were cut short. From the far end of the back alley, a figure emerged. The way it ambled forward was filled with an unnerving, leisurely grace. It seemed to be dressed in a scholar’s robes, but the shadows were too deep to make out any features.

Not that anyone cared about its features.

“A-A ghost…?!”

There is a term, ghost fire. It typically refers to the spectral flames seen in tales of hauntings, but it can also describe a gaze filled with deep-seated resentment. And they had encountered such gazes many times before—when tearing a child from its mother’s arms, when murdering a lover before their partner’s eyes, when ‘dealing’ with a strong-willed woman.

But those were just metaphors. Never, never…

…did it mean a literal flame burning within the eye sockets!

His men screamed and collapsed to the ground. He tried, somehow, to stand his ground. But when ‘it’ ambled closer and smiled, baring all its teeth… he wet himself where he stood.

“Hahaha. So, this was the place.”

Its mouth was filled with the sharp, serrated fangs of a beast.

“Such a delicious smell.”

***

“Hm?”

Yeon So-hyeon opened his eyes and tilted his head. He remembered leaving the inn, and then catching a delicious scent… After that, nothing. He pushed himself up and looked around.

“…An underground tomb?”

The space was filled with stone sarcophagi, illuminated only by a few faint shafts of light filtering down from a ceiling of unknowable height. And within each of the lidless coffins lay a corpse, each in a different state of decay.

And…

“Uuuuoooooh…”

“Gaaaaaaah…!”

The corpses were writhing and wailing.

Yeon So-hyeon ambled leisurely between the sarcophagi, showing a detached interest as he poked and prodded at the bodies.

“Hmm…”

Such composure.

“Indeed, you must be the Fated One of the scripture. Kehkehkeh.”

Even with a voice suddenly speaking from behind him, Yeon So-hyeon was not the least bit startled. It was a state beyond mere courage. It could only be called madness.

“That’s a voice that sounds as if it has mold growing in its throat, old man.”

When he turned, he saw an old man dressed in rags so tattered it was impossible to tell what they had once been. At Yeon So-hyeon’s words, the old man threw his head back and erupted in a peal of mad laughter.

“How perceptive!”

As the madman laughed, his rotten, twisted mouth revealed a throat indeed full of some unidentifiable mold. But even at this grotesque sight, Yeon So-hyeon merely clicked his tongue.

“If you paid so little attention to your oral hygiene, it’s no wonder you haven’t a single tooth left.”

At his response, the old man dropped to his knees, slapped the floor, and let out another bout of laughter. “The more I see of you, the more I like you!” He nodded. “This time, the scripture has found itself a proper one!”

To which Yeon So-hyeon replied, “Or is it not that the true master has found his monster?”

At those words, the old man clutched his stomach and unleashed another torrent of insane laughter. A rotten, pus-filled fluid streamed from his eyes, nose, and mouth, but in this place, at this moment, no one cared for such trivialities. The old man clapped his hands, laughing for a long while until he was out of breath, panting as he tried to compose himself.

“…Aigoo, in all my long years, I have seen every kind of creature there is, but never one like you.”

Just then, the old man’s eyes narrowed. “But tell me…”

The temperature plummeted. The corpses, which had been writhing and screaming their unintelligible cries, froze. Even the thin shafts of light from the ceiling seemed to dim.

“I am curious to know what you think you know about the scripture to be spouting such words.”

Yeon So-hyeon fell silent. The primeval monster. A thing with power so great it could twist time and return him to the past. The absence of causality. The inherent unfairness. The scripture that defies the heavens, woven from the skin, blood, and sinew of three Immortals.

Did he truly know anything about such a monster?

Yeon So-hyeon looked the old man straight in the eyes. They were like glass. In stark contrast to his grotesque and hideous appearance, his eyes were perfectly calm and clear. They were the eyes of a sage, with no trace of madness.

Looking into those eyes, Yeon So-hyeon respectfully performed a fist-and-palm salute. “Please, grant me your teachings.”

“…Hoh.”

At Yeon So-hyeon’s action, the old man let out a small sound of admiration. “Typically, those who become Fated Ones of the scripture show one of two reactions here.”

The first type were the arrogant, who believed that ‘power’ was the only thing they had ever lacked. The second were those who were so blinded by madness that a proper conversation was impossible.

“You are different from them.” The form of address had shifted from ‘you punk’ to a more respectful ‘you.’

“Is it so special to admit what one does not know, and to ask for guidance?” At Yeon So-hyeon’s display of humility, the old man snorted and sat cross-legged in mid-air. “That is a question I should ask myself. The Scripture that Commands the Dark and Quakes the Heavens…”

He lifted his gaze to the empty air. “Even I do not truly understand it.”

It was a strange thing to say for someone who had just been boasting, but Yeon So-hyeon simply nodded. “So that is the heart of the matter.”

The old man nodded. “Indeed. You are precise.”

The old man gestured slowly in the air as he continued. “This monster has existed since time immemorial, but its true origin is unclear.”

At those words, Yeon So-hyeon’s eyebrows twitched. “It babbles on about itself, of course. That in ancient times there were Immortals who grew enraged and went mad, flaying their own bodies to create it, and so on.” The old man’s lips curled into a sneer. “But even that cannot be confirmed.”

“And why is that?”

A strange light flared in the old man’s eyes. The sudden, immense pressure that radiated from him was enough to force even Yeon So-hyeon to take a step back.

“Because I, too, am an Immortal.”

“—!”

The old man let out a self-mocking laugh. “Or rather, I was an Immortal.” His aura vanished as if it had never been there. “…Now, I have fallen into ruin, less than even dust.”

Though his presence had subsided, its aftershock still vibrated in the air. “Trapped within this monster, for a time so long I cannot measure it, for eons, I have studied and researched this thing.”

He saw the old man’s hand tremble. “When I unraveled one of its secrets, two more would appear. When I grasped those two, three more would take their place…” His gaze wandered through the void. “Still, I did not stop. I could not stop.” His glass-like eyes took on the deep hue of the abyss. “…But I still do not understand.”

Yeon So-hyeon swallowed dryly. He had faintly sensed it from the moment the scripture had reversed his time, but to hear that a being who was once an Immortal could be trapped inside it, studying it for eons only to arrive at the answer that there is no answer…

“…”

It was like gazing into a true abyss; the sheer, unknowable depth of it was dizzying.

“‘The master has found his monster,’ you say…” The old man repeated Yeon So-hyeon’s words, then sighed softly. “Since the beginning, countless Fated Ones have tried to take the reins of this monster and become its master, but all have failed…”

His voice dropped to a low whisper. “And every single one of those Fated Ones was a being who shone like a star in the night sky.”

The breath that escaped Yeon So-hyeon’s lips shattered into mist in the cold air. “And among them were many who were greater than I.”

A being greater than one who had attained the rank of an Immortal. “And many whose innate talents were far superior to my own.”

A being with talent greater than one who had become an Immortal. A terribly heavy sigh escaped the old man’s lips. “They all failed. They were devoured.”

He lifted his head and looked at Yeon So-hyeon. “But in you, I have seen a glimmer of hope.”

Yeon So-hyeon’s lips parted, his words heavy. “…And why is that?”

The old man gave an enigmatic smile. “You have only just completed the ‘Initiation Rite[1].’ You are merely standing at the very beginning of this long journey.”

At those words, Yeon So-hyeon did not press further. His ego was not so fragile as to seek hope for himself in the words of others. Instead, he asked something else. “Then what is this Initiation Rite?”

At his question, the old man raised his long eyebrows in surprise. “Do you not know?”

His words sent Yeon So-hyeon into a moment of thought. Before coming ‘here,’ he had visited an inn in Luoyang, had walked the back alleys… a delicious smell. And…

Yeon So-hyeon’s eyes widened. At the sight, the old man began to chuckle, kilkilkil. All the while, his gaze was fixed on Yeon So-hyeon, refusing to let go for even an instant. Yeon So-hyeon saw a madness begin to flood those glass-like eyes.

He pointed a finger at Yeon So-hyeon and asked with absolute certainty.

“You. Did you not devour them?”