INV 74

Unlike Kwon Yihyeon, Gwak Deukcheon had a full grasp of the context of the situation.

That was also why he had approached Geom Biyeon saying, “Let’s talk.” The reason he attempted a proactive approach toward his former subordinate—whom he hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge until now—was that the situation was just that much of a mess. Even if Geom Biyeon was an ungrateful son of a bitch who had taken the lead in plotting Gwak Deukcheon’s demotion, this current situation required coordination.

‘At this rate, the interior of the Underworld might end up being split apart.’

He had known for some time that many within the Underworld were arguing back and forth over the existence of Kwon Yihyeon. And contrary to public perception, Gwak Deukcheon was a keen and quick-witted man. He was even socially perceptive. It was just that because he didn’t cater to others’ whims, he was misunderstood as being tactless; in truth, he was a genuine personality wreck in that he would knowingly toss out words that would hurt people’s feelings. At any rate, it was because Gwak Deukcheon had pushed hard while staking his position as a Reaper, and Great King Yama had concurred, that Kwon Yihyeon was able to lead a normal life as an intern. If not for that, by now the Underworld might have thrown the contractor into a laboratory while busy comparing the Jae Angshin to those who are merely considered Great Yokai by the public.

However, as everyone surely knew by now, the Jae Angshin was not a mere monster that could be compared to “just” a Great Yokai.

Almost no one had fully trusted the records that were like ancient antiques, but he was truly a god of calamity who was more than worthy of being called a Heavenly Punishment, and the contractor was not a simple medium for manifestation. He was the groom. Having faced that point squarely, the Underworld needed to correctly set the direction of its next steps. This meant a grave goal had emerged: to win over the existence of Kwon Yihyeon—who had been drifting aimlessly until now—to the side of humanity.

If only for the sole reason that he was the only being capable of controlling the Jae Angshin.

The two of them seemed not to be merely putting on a “human imitation” or playing at “love games,” but appeared to be “sincere”; had they attempted some hasty surgical intervention on Kwon Yihyeon as Geom Biyeon insisted, the Underworld would have been destroyed by now. In short, the current situation was a finished game where the bet on the Reaper position had ended in the bankruptcy of others and a jackpot for Gwak Deukcheon.

If so, one might expect him to feel ecstasy at seeing his opponent squirm while he needled him with things like, “If we’d done what you said, we’d all be dead, right?” but Gwak Deukcheon, who had been stabbed in the back by his subordinate, had no interest in such rewards or arguments over who was right and who was wrong. Though many misunderstood him, Gwak Deukcheon was a man who would go straight to any length for the sake of his own convictions. Conversely, it meant he could cause a total mess for anything that wasn’t for his convictions. Misunderstandings stemmed from right here, but one shouldn’t be mistaken. Gwak Deukcheon’s decisiveness and drive for his convictions were second to none. He was the kind of man who could discard even his foul temperament like spitting out phlegm when faced with his convictions.

Thus, Gwak Deukcheon cut out all the useless preamble and cast a spell so the conversation wouldn’t leak to the surroundings.

Then, he plunged the main point into a vital spot like a dagger.

“Are you planning to violate the rule of the separation of realms?”

Even though it must have been a fairly painful stab, Geom Biyeon only smirked fluidly. It was a smile that shared a resemblance with Gwak Deukcheon’s, but neither Gwak Deukcheon nor Geom Biyeon recognized that fact.

Geom Biyeon merely replied as if singing.

“The surroundings are a complete madhouse; is there a need to speak so urgently? Let’s pull back moderately and find a separate place.”

“No, you punk. I’m in a hurry.”

“Just how hurried are you?”

“Super damn hurried.”

Geom Biyeon was also a pragmatic official, so he surely knew the urgency of the current situation, but Gwak Deukcheon was even more pressed. There was only one difference between the two men, and that was Kwon Yihyeon. The sense of purpose in trying to protect Kwon Yihyeon had caused Gwak Deukcheon to take a step forward first. Geom Biyeon also knew Gwak Deukcheon’s inner thoughts, which was why he was deliberately taking a step back and teasingly feigning ignorance. Regardless, Geom Biyeon had known Gwak Deukcheon for a long time and respected him. He knew the internal system by which Gwak Deukcheon operated as a human. Deep down, he even thought it was comfortable because he was a predictable person.

And even more than that, he often thought he was hateful.

“Sunbae, if what you want is my final word, I won’t give it to you just like this. You can be certain of that.”

When Geom Biyeon murmured monotonously in a casual tone, Gwak Deukcheon, understanding the meaning behind those words, twisted his face.

‘If I really want peace, I should give up on Kwon Yihyeon?’

That was a subtle pleasure for Geom Biyeon, but for Gwak Deukcheon, it was nothing but a piece of exploding nonsense.

‘Ha. Why am I, who am so perfect, the only one lacking in popularity.’

These were words that might cause others to be more than shocked—they might even collapse while clutching the back of their necks—but Gwak Deukcheon was sincere.

At any rate, unlike the mad dog Gwak Deukcheon, Geom Biyeon—who was Gwak Deukcheon’s disciple yet had learned how to appropriately compromise with the trends of the times—possessed the trust of the elders of the Underworld and was receiving the full respect of the young civil servants. Geom Biyeon was a talent that might appear only once in a century. If such a man took hold of and swayed the public opinion of the Underworld, Kwon Yihyeon’s safety would be at risk. Precisely until yesterday, the risk meant he might die or be exploited, but from today, a different world had opened. If Geom Biyeon opened his mouth, it might lead to the conclusion that they should hand Kwon Yihyeon over to the Celestial Realm.

Such an inference was possible because Geom Biyeon had proven as of today that he had a connection with the Celestial Realm.

Gwak Deukcheon had once been a divine disciple, a shaman, yet now he lived strangely without any communication with the Celestial Realm. When he was Gwak Deukcheon’s disciple and subordinate, Geom Biyeon had lived similarly. In that sense, when Gwak Deukcheon learned that Geom Biyeon had compromised with the Celestial Realm to devise a scheme like, “Since the Jae Angshin has caused a yokai uprising, let’s get rid of the contractor while we’re at it. If he can be used as a meat shield, fine; and if he’s an idiot who can’t even do that, it’s better to kill him, so either way is fine,” even Gwak Deukcheon felt a strange sensation. That is, if a slight surprise and the assessment that he was pathetic could be called a sensation.

‘Does this bastard really have no thoughts? So what if an Underworld guy is playing nice with the Celestial Realm, then what.’

The separation of realms referred to the rule established by The Jade Emperor. That rule, meant to stop chaos by distinguishing the worlds, was created by drawing lessons from the ancient times when chaos overturned heaven and earth in the beginning. Though it is now the 21st century where almost no immortals even remember the ancient times, there was a savage age in the distant past. An age when all the worlds that are now divided were one. It was a time when the dead arbitrarily manipulated the registers of life and death to act as if they were living, when gods descended recklessly to trifle with the fate of all creation, and when corrupt yokai reigned as the masters of the land and ate mountain spirits—that era, where there was no reason or distinction in the world, was truly chaos itself. Had there been any shred of consideration for the burgeoning human civilization, such a savage age would not have existed. Those savage beasts called humans were trampled upon so very easily.

The Jade Emperor lamented over this.

“Have you not seen them carrying those with broken legs and applying splints? Have you not seen them making and hanging clothes to wear, mimicking our appearance?”

Then the ancient gods joined their voices, saying that mimicking them was a truly arrogant act and that they should be struck with heavenly punishment.

The Jade Emperor realized then that if he gave these bastards freedom, the world would be submerged in endless chaos.

He had given freedom to avoid dictatorship, but it had turned into condoning license. If chaos had rapidly increased as a result, it would surely be the responsibility of the Emperor who bestowed the freedom.

And The Jade Emperor was the type of character who would pick up a sword rather than unravel a tangled ball of thread bit by bit.

“Pack your bags.”

“Pardon?”

In that way, the concept of other worlds was born within a single world. The deceased to the Underworld, the immortals to the Celestial Realm, the gods to the Heavenly Realm, and the rest to the Lower Realm. Interference between each realm was to be kept to a minimum.

Only after that did a proper human civilization begin to bloom, and the Lower Realm began to be called the Human Realm.

This was the history of the world.

‘And it is a supreme providence.’

However, in Gwak Deukcheon’s eyes, what Geom Biyeon was doing was a clear abuse of authority.

And toward Great King Yama, the sovereign of the Underworld at that.

An abuse of authority that brought up other realms.

An Underworld Reaper contract essentially deals with a person as an official, not a civil servant or a company employee. As long as Great King Yama’s title is “Great King” Yama, it will continue to be so. But a guy from the Underworld rebels against Great King Yama? This was treason. Geom Biyeon was not a fool who couldn’t grasp that level of power dynamics. If so, it meant he was a premeditated criminal. The nature of the crime was worse. It was a capital offense.

Honestly, Gwak Deukcheon knew the inner workings of why Geom Biyeon was doing this, so he wanted to just leave him be whether he was caught by the lightning of the Prajna and dragged away or not, but given Geom Biyeon’s standing, it was awkward to do so.

Regardless, Geom Biyeon was a talent of the Underworld, and the scheme to hand over the Jae Angshin’s contractor to the Celestial Realm could be packaged as being for the sake of the Underworld. Calculating the prospect that the Underworld would be split between those who side with Great King Yama and those who advocate for Geom Biyeon was truly an easy task.

So, Gwak Deukcheon was fighting a desperate battle for the sake of a peace that didn’t even fit his fate.

He was at a loss for words while trying to suppress his surging anger.

“…Are you looking to see the Underworld become the Celestial Realm’s errand boy or something?”

“No, I’m saying since I’m keeping your secret, you should back off a bit.”

But because Geom Biyeon came out so stupidly, Gwak Deukcheon was so flabbergasted that he actually laughed.

Certainly, Gwak Deukcheon did have one secret. However, that was…

“It seems you’re mistaken about something…”

Finally, it was the moment Gwak Deukcheon was about to reveal his true self as a personality wreck once again. Suddenly, someone “appeared” from the side. Without any magical logic, without even making a sign of presence.

As if slicing through space naturally.

Because of that, Gwak Deukcheon was actually not surprised. As if he had expected the person, he deactivated the barrier spell that prevented the conversation from leaking and turned to the side; as expected, the Jae Angshin was standing there, holding Kwon Yihyeon. Kwon Yihyeon, who had seemed to be sharing a conversation with the Jae Angshin until Gwak Deukcheon came to meet Geom Biyeon, now naturally tucked the Jae Angshin’s hair behind his ear and stepped onto the ground himself. The gaze that had been gentle until a moment ago turned fierce the instant it targeted Geom Biyeon.

Suddenly, Gwak Deukcheon felt like whistling.

However, Kwon Yihyeon didn’t care at all about Gwak Deukcheon’s reaction.

He merely questioned Geom Biyeon.

“You have no intention of explaining with what intent you approached me, do you?”

The voice, which had sunk low, was quite threatening, but the fact that he approached alone, excluding the Jae Angshin, made him feel like a novice to Geom Biyeon. As he always did, Geom Biyeon responded leisurely, as if his tongue were coated in oil.

“Isn’t that the same for you? Intern, with what kind of mind did you jump off there? For an effort to prove you’re not in your right mind, it was insane.”

“Ah, it’s okay. Don’t talk anymore. That’s enough. Since it means both you and I have no intention of explaining anyway.”

Having said that, Kwon Yihyeon strode forward, casually grabbed him by the collar, and slammed his fist into his cheek.

Thwack!

Every movement was connected fluidly, like watching a single piece of dance. To see it that way despite the nonsensical situation of blowing away the jaw of a manager from another department meant it was truly a punch that had reached a certain level. Gwak Deukcheon, struck with admiration, sprayed the water he was about to drink out of his mouth. A rainbow almost bloomed from the beautiful spraying power.

However, Kwon Yihyeon really didn’t care about Gwak Deukcheon’s reaction.

Kwon Yihyeon, who was rarely filled with genuine annoyance, intended to open Geom Biyeon’s mouth by any means necessary and expose the intentions of the Celestial Realm, this guy, and Pungbaek.

“I’m going to beat you up because I’m in a foul mood anyway, and you can open your mouth if you don’t want to be beaten. How about it. Isn’t it fair?”

In other words, Kwon Yihyeon had no idea in his dreams of the reality that the shy threat he uttered had been transmitted directly to the high command of the Underworld through Geom Biyeon’s radio during the gap when Gwak Deukcheon’s spell was turned off.

He also didn’t observe even a bit of the future where a nickname like codename Mad Dog Number Two would be created.