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Heavenly Demon Copies Martial Arts

Ryuma2877
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Synopsis
I worked harder than anyone else. But efforts were meaningless in a third-rate life. Because I wasn’t the main character in my life. The ending ultimately resulted in death by the killer. One day, when everything ended for me, the nightmare of the Heavenly Demon Church came to me. ‘I can imitate a martial art that I have seen once… ?’ A record of the early journey of a third-rate Jeongpain who was overcome by evil.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter: 1

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Translator: Ryuma

Chapter: 01

Chapter Title: The Heavenly Demon Copies Martial Arts

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"What a tired, predictable tale... This life's doomed as well, no doubt."

I suddenly looked up at the sky.

A piercingly blue winter sky. Beneath it stretched a field of pristine white.

The farthest memory I could recall, my very first one, was also of a vast white winter field.

In the snowfield, with white breath puffing from her mouth, Mother said,

'My son, this is a game of running away.'

The Murim.

Another world within a world ruled by strength.

In that place existed five families boasting the greatest wealth and might.

Nangong Family

Hwangbo Family

Hebei Peng Family

Moyong Family

Zhuge Family

People called them the Five Great Families.

And Mother was a concubine of the Moyong Family.

One day, the Moyong Family Patriarch suddenly vanished.

That day, Mother told me we should have a running race.

We ran endlessly across the vast plain. I didn't know where we were going or why we were running.

It didn't take long to realize it wasn't a game—that it was an escape for survival.

'This isn't a game. I want to go home. It's cold.'

'No one will protect us anymore.'

Mother repeated words I couldn't comprehend as a child.

And so, our mother and son fled and settled in a remote mountain village.

To avoid freezing to death, we patched up an abandoned shack with our raw, frostbitten hands as best we could.

To avoid starving, we gripped hoes and shovels like rice spoons.

Carrying a baby on my back, I lived as a poor farmer, worrying about rain from the heavens and whether the rice ears would form properly, barely scraping by.

We endured like that for long years.

'No, this can't be right.'

Even working from sunrise to sunset, our bodies breaking as we swung hoes and axes, survival was a struggle.

Mother said we should always be grateful just to stay alive like this, but I couldn't accept it.

In that impoverished life, every approaching winter brought fears of death.

One brutally cold winter.

On my fifteenth birthday, Mother froze to death.

'Wait for the Family Head to come find us. If he does, make sure to show him this.'

Mother placed in my hands the wooden box she always kept close to her chest.

To the very end, Mother believed the Family Head would come.

Mother had starved.

Mother was too frail to withstand the cold.

And so, Mother froze to death.

"..."

Inside the wooden box was a golden dragon clutching a black bead.

"You... you bastard."

My eyes burned red, as if they might burst.

My hands trembled.

-Great Moyong Family

The moment I saw the engraved letters, I hurled the wooden box to the floor.

I stomped on it, smashing it to pieces.

"Why, even at the end—why that scum until the very last...!"

I picked up the golden dragon to throw it away but stopped.

I ground my teeth until my gums felt like they would split.

"Ugh, ugh... ugh..."

With shaking hands, I clutched the golden dragon.

I pressed it to my forehead and prostrated myself on the cold floor.

I curled up beside Mother's frozen corpse.

The sun set.

The moon rose.

A rat emerged from the crumbling mud wall.

It stared blankly at the lifeless room before vanishing.

Even as my body froze solid and my lips cracked, I remained prostrated.

"Mother, what if, just what if."

Had a day passed?

Three days?

A week?

"In this backwater village, cowering until I die—is that my fate?"

Before Mother's stiffened corpse, I muttered in a hoarse voice.

"...I refuse to accept that."

I didn't even wish to return to the family.

Born as a human, I just wanted to live a life of enjoyment at least once.

To live in a tiled-roof mansion like a whale's back, take a pretty wife, and stuff myself with meat until my belly burst.

There was no room for choice.

I left the village on impulse.

I headed to the capital.

Even if I was to be trampled like vermin, I resolved to at least die challenging it.

To fend for myself—and perhaps seize any slim chance at success—I sought to learn martial arts.

I knocked on any sect door I saw, begging to be taken as a disciple.

"You're too old."

Reality was different.

"You want to join our sect? Got a recommendation letter? No? Then get lost."

"Got a nickname? No? Can't do it."

I didn't even aim for the great sects of the Nine Great Sects and One Gang.

Even minor sects rejected my entry.

I wanted to collapse, but I thought if I did, it would all be over.

I decided to try harder.

I chased street wanderer warriors, pleading to learn even the simplest technique.

But there was no way to learn a breathing method to cultivate the essential internal energy.

No one in the Murim handed out internal arts to just anyone.

Still, I didn't give up.

'If my internal energy is lacking, I'll make up for it with external strength. Somehow, it'll work.'

At the very least, I trained my stamina and swung a sword without fail every day.

Practicing third-rate martial arts, I vaguely believed a once-in-a-lifetime fateful encounter would come someday.

But time just flowed on endlessly.

"No internal energy at all even at your age? What have you been doing while others built theirs? Out."

It was my thirty-second attempt.

In the minor sect's entrance exam grounds, the examiner watching me issued the eviction order.

"...Pardon? Wait, just a moment. Examiner."

I stood awkwardly, sword in hand.

The examiner gestured dismissively.

"Deaf? I said scram."

"At least let me finish what I've prepared! Here's the Yukhap Swordsmanship, so—"

Smack.

My vision flashed white.

"Argh."

I clutched my nose.

Hot blood poured down beneath my hand.

"Didn't hear the examiner? Get lost."

Not even a warrior.

Just a lowly gatekeeper servant gripped a corrected birch staff and threatened me.

"You... you bastard."

My vision went red.

My heart pounded rapidly, humiliation surging in.

"Hey, that punk's glare is downright irreverent! What is the world coming to? A young one's eyes like a filthy demonic cultist!"

The examiner, catching my eye, coughed awkwardly and looked away.

"Loosen that glare? Where'd you learn such bad manners!"

I was beaten.

"Cough."

The birch staff hurt terribly.

Mocked and pummeled with it.

"Where'd a maggot like you crawl from!"

It hurt, so I cried.

I cried from the injustice.

I shielded my head with both arms, and kicks rained down on them.

Beaten like a rag, I was tossed out the entrance.

Clang.

The iron sword I'd scrimped a week without food to buy shattered and rolled away.

"Eat your fill of age, you bloated bastard, and you dare strut here?"

The door slammed shut.

Dazed, I stared at the half-broken sword beside me, meeting my reflection in the blade.

I was no longer a child with chances left to learn.

'I must have gotten this old already.'

When had so much time passed?

If only I'd been given a chance.

If there had just been an opportunity.

I was confident I could strive harder than anyone.

But that chance never came.

Climbing mountains in pursuit of sweet achievement.

But there was no peak, only a fall to the bottom, writhing there.

Once, I could sleep happily dreaming of fame and glory.

But now, not even those dreams came.

I wanted to get drunk.

I wanted to forget it all.

Clutching my swollen face, I staggered into a brothel and bought the cheapest liquor, guzzling it.

Liquor I hadn't touched at all during my so-called training.

And that became my last drink.

***

"You're Moyong Bi, right?"

A wrecked brothel.

The air thick with the stench of blood.

A red mask held a blade to my throat.

Assassins.

Those who made killing their trade.

Two courtesans lay skewered by dozens of blades.

The brothel was in ruins.

"Haa, haa."

I pressed my palm to the blood spurting from my shoulder.

The red mask before me tilted her head.

"Heard you were third-rate, but you're holding up well. A natural bone structure?"

The masked figure's voice was delicate, almost womanly.

She aimed a paper-thin longsword at my chin.

"Ahaha, look at that vengeful glare. It's been a while since I've felt chills."

"Leader, the Eighth Elder's guards seem to have caught on."

The red mask's laughter cut off sharply.

"Guards? Estimated time."

"About one shichen behind."

"Well, that's enough time for a bit of fun."

The red mask grinned mischievously again and beckoned me.

"Let's see if that glare matches your skill. You, grab a sword."

"...What?"

The red mask continued playfully.

"I'll give you hope of survival."

"Hope?"

She held up one finger.

"I promise. Graze me even once, and I'll let you live."

I stared blankly at her.

"Not enough? Fine, one more. No matter what happens next, I'll spare you once. I swear by heaven and earth."

"Leader, forgive the interruption."

A subordinate stepped forward.

"The client clearly requested the target's elimination."

The red mask froze.

"What are you saying?"

Her pupils narrowed vertically, like a snake's.

Rumble...

Suffocating killing intent filled the air.

"That I'd get grazed by trash like him?"

"...Ah."

Thud—the subordinate slammed his head to the ground.

"S-Sorry! Leader, that's not what I meant at all!"

"..."

The masked figure stared at the subordinate for a while, then extended her hand sideways.

"No more complaints? Give me a sword."

The red mask took the sword and tossed it to me.

"Well then, Young Master Illegitimate?"

The sword embedded itself before me, quivering.

"Want to live? Then struggle."

"...!"

Reality was cruel.

No coincidences, no miracles.

Time blurred, and my mind forgot the process.

I just wanted to live.

I couldn't die here.

'I absolutely cannot die.'

I remembered clutching the sword, flailing and thrashing.

Screaming like a demon, clinging to my foe.

Mother freezing to death on the heated floor came to mind.

The piercingly blue winter.

Running endlessly across the white field, hand in Mother's.

Huddled under Mother's corpse, sobbing quietly.

Beaten by the gatekeeper, clutching my broken sword, falling asleep on the street crying.

'I can't end here.'

My sword-arm was severed.

I charged with my severed arm in my left hand.

My left arm snapped.

I bit the sword in my mouth and charged.

My thighs were pierced through.

I crawled forward with my broken left arm.

I felt the red mask growing flustered. The game was no longer amusement.

'I can't end here...!'

I grabbed her flapping hem and hung on. I swung the sword at her face.

The red mask's hand strike snapped my blade.

The broken shard tore across her cheek.

"...Kuh!"

The red mask's eyes widened.

Bloodshot veins filled her eyes.

'I cannot die here—!'

The moment I grasped hope of survival.

A piercingly clear flash pierced all my memories.

-Splat

It was a strike through my chest.

The flash shattered the golden dragon at my neck and embedded in my chest.

"Uh, ugh!"

I flailed my arms.

I spat bloody foam.

"...This lie... you promised... to let me live..."

"Ah."

The red mask stood dazed.

"To think you'd be this insane!"

"Even trained assassins struggle with mutual destruction...! Leader, are you alright?!"

Subordinates rushed over.

-Swish

The cloth covering the red mask's mouth fell away.

Her exposed white cheek bore a vivid red line.

Crimson blood beaded from the gash.

"..."

The red mask touched her cheek.

She gazed at the blood on her fingers.

She looked at my face.

She glanced down at her hand.

Her pupils trembled faintly.

"...To think I lost my composure for a moment."

The red mask ground her teeth as if they might shatter.

"The request is fulfilled. Everyone, withdraw."

They vanished.

I was left alone.

With my chest pierced, blood soaked my entire body.

It was so absurd I could only laugh.

This was the end?

'I always gave my all.'

And it ended so pathetically?

My vision darkened.

I couldn't end like this.

I couldn't die like this.

In the encroaching darkness, I writhed.

Unable to accept death, I struggled more desperately than anyone.

So at first, I thought I'd misheard.

[Reach out... your hand.]

A voice like frost.

A chill creeping up my spine.

It was the black bead the golden dragon had held.

The voice emanated from the black bead at my feet.

[Quickly, grab me.]

Blood swirled around the black bead like tentacles, beckoning me.

[I've waited over a century.... I'll give you a chance. To me, and to you. Rip them apart. All of them.]

"..."

It might have been a hallucination.

But.

It might have been my last chance at life.

I ground my teeth.

"Graaaah... aaagh!!"

I rolled with all my strength.

Crawled like a worm.

Despite the burning nerve pain, I moved my body.

The bead glowed green again and whispered.

[Clutch me.]

"...!"

One arm severed.

One arm broken.

I couldn't grasp with hands.

Both arms useless?

Then there was one way.

[Yes, grab...]

Crunch— I shoved the bead into my gaping mouth.

[Eh?]

The voice panicked.

-Crunch

The bead wasn't that hard.

Amid the pain, I bit down hard on the bead in my mouth.

It shattered easily.

[You fool!]

The panicked voice scattered and vanished as the bead broke.

Sticky fluid from the shattered bead flowed down my throat.

-Possession Experience Shared Sensation End

At the same time, a damp, viscous voice unlike the previous one filled my mind.

-Extraction System Display Complete

-Reinforcement Transformation Application Start

Flesh Restoration

Proximate Sample

Lending Expansion Copy

-Host Removal Failure

-Martial Arts Succession Failure

-Self Transmission Failure

Black blood-tentacles wrapped around my body.

My entire form crumbled to pieces.

My body sank into black lake water.

I'm dying.

Black water poured into my screaming mouth.

Sinking.

As consciousness faded, a thought struck me.

The world can be so predictably cruel it's heartbreaking.

There's an old saying: In a lifetime, three chances come.

But in my life, not even one had arrived, let alone three.

If only it were obvious,

Anyone would do,

If heaven existed, I'd scream for just one chance.

If only given a chance.

If anyone granted me just one chance.

In this vomit-inducing, cruel, tired, predictable reality, if granted even one chance, I'd pay any price.

[Even if it's a demon?]

A sticky whisper in the darkness.

I nodded.

"Even if it's a demon...!"

The Heavenly Demon Copies Martial Arts