WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: DereKimchi
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◈ I Became the Mad Demon in a Novel ◈
Chapter 23: Lang Bai’s Past
──────
Smack!
Today, I had a reason.
Something about the sight had rubbed me the wrong way.
“Hmm.”
Despite all the chaos last night, the Demonic Cult’s morning routine was nothing special.
The only difference was that its apothecaries would soon be packed to bursting.
‘I’m completely fine now.’
Even after running wild with Silent Aeon Demon Soul in my hand, my mind was clearer than ever.
There was no dizzying weakness, no strange floating sensation.
Had Silent Aeon Demon Soul’s life-threatening side effects disappeared?
No, I understood now.
This was happening because my mind was no longer resisting.
People who took drugs and entered a heightened state looked full of energy.
But that only meant their addiction was getting worse.
All the dangerous symptoms had been buried under pleasure. In other words, I had become like the original Mad Demon.
The Mad Demon’s memories and experiences mingled in my head. I was the Mad Demon, yet not the Mad Demon.
Surprisingly, I did not feel much about it.
The original Mad Demon was influencing me, but that did not mean the essence of my soul had changed.
“Heh.”
If anything, the plans in my head were coming together in greater detail.
The original Mad Demon was a brainless monster who only knew how to rampage.
But what if that monster’s experience was combined with an efficiency-minded modern person’s intelligence and an obsessive reader’s database?
For starters, I could now casually make choices the Mad Demon in the original novel would never have considered.
For example.
From now on, I planned to hide my identity completely whenever I traveled through orthodox territory.
All I had to do was prevent a situation where the Divine Physician of Life and Death treated the “Mad Demon.”
Unlike the original Mad Demon, I did not find receiving treatment from an orthodox martial artist humiliating or shameful.
As long as I did not go around radiating Mad Demon energy, why would anyone recognize me?
How was that possible?
Because the Mad Demon had killed every orthodox martial artist who had seen his face.
I just had to make full use of that detail from the original novel.
Ah, there was one problem. I had never experienced the orthodox faction myself.
Title: Quick question about the River North Alliance.
What should I watch out for if I want to fit in with the orthodox crowd?
Talk like a scholar? Mind my manners?
Looking for someone to teach me.
└You already get it. The second you make eye contact, give them a fist-and-palm salute. That’s a must.
└The foundation of the orthodox faction is shouting your technique names lol
└Yep. Orthodox rookies on their first real mission will yell “Falling Plums, Crimson Chaos!” even when they’re wearing masks and attacking from behind lmaoooo
└Then what’s even the point of a sneak attack lmao
└That’s just how they’re built lol. They spent their whole lives learning to spar like that.
└Spar?
└It means, “I’m going to attack like this, so let’s see you block it.” Then if they hit it off, they start calling each other brother lol
└True. Push too hard and hurt the other guy, and they’ll 100% think you used a killing move. Then the whole sect gets pissy.
└You don’t know about Chinese face culture?? Just praise the other guy’s skill a little and wrap things up before you go too far.
Ugh, these little brats.
My question had vanished into thin air, and they were having a great time laughing among themselves again.
Was I the idiot for expecting detailed information from the gallery?
Sure, crusty veterans showed up now and then, but most of them were ordinary Gallers.
Still, it was not as though there was nothing worth noting.
In the end, orthodox culture revolved around face, manners, and justification.
As long as I flattered people enough and followed the proper etiquette, I should avoid any major problems.
But...
‘The real problem is what they’re thinking.’
Would someone smiling and chatting with me really mean they liked me?
In that sense, the Demonic Cult’s bastards were a hundred times easier to deal with.
Their sinister intentions were written all over their faces.
Of course, some orthodox martial artists lived by human decency and righteousness. But if upright people were common, great heroes would not be so rare.
My first priority, then, was to develop an eye for people.
Ah, that came down to life experience, so perhaps I could rely a little on the original Mad Demon...
Ha.
Come to think of it, why would this psychopath have ever bothered figuring out anyone’s intentions?
“...Damn it.”
I was already becoming addicted to the pleasure Silent Aeon Demon Soul gave me.
I needed to learn ordinary martial arts so I could keep Silent Aeon Demon Soul as a backup for emergencies.
If I hesitated to mingle with the orthodox crowd now, I would get nowhere.
Half of life was adventure anyway, and adventure meant experience and learning.
I soon began carefully rereading the gallery’s Top Posts.
As long as a person had written something, part of their personality was bound to show through.
I dug into Top Posts that seemed to have been written by orthodox Gallers.
I worked hard to understand how they thought and the habits that shaped their lives.
After I had spent a week lazing around and doing little more than eating, the Ten Armies of the Mad Demon returned to Revered One Hall.
Despite their stiff bodies and the splints strapped here and there, they still remembered to prostrate themselves fully.
“Tsk. I told you to stop. You’ll knock yourselves stupid.”
Que Biao, who had been driving their forehead into the ground, gave an awkward smile.
“I keep forgetting.”
“Hmm. Two of you are missing.”
“Hyeong Il and Pyo Ak are in quite serious condition.”
“How serious?”
“Their internal injuries are worse than their external ones. Since yesterday, we have been strongly requesting a prescription for Demon-Neighbor Pills...”
“And?”
“The Master of Mukyak Hall refuses to budge.”
I immediately held out an entire wooden box to Que Biao.
“Take this and use it.”
“All of this...? But they will surely insist on following the proper procedures first...”
“Procedures? Tell that bastard to cut the crap unless they want to die. They should just take a few gold ingots and be done with it. They want to see me in person? Do they have a spare life?”
Que Biao stood there blankly before bursting into hearty laughter.
“Wahahaha! Now you sound like our lord!”
“Shut up. What about the Mingled Demon Hall bastards? Still no movement?”
“They have been as quiet as mice.”
“Really?”
Mingled Demon Hall.
They had probably kept some of their higher-ranking Venerables out of the fighting, but my people had beaten them so badly that they were likely on the verge of collapse.
A week had already passed since Bloodstrife Night.
The fact that they still had not reacted bothered me.
“Keep watching them. If anything happens, tell me right... No. Let’s just have a group dinner today.”
“Pardon?”
“We all worked our asses off. We should eat some meat and have a drink.”
Well, damn. Look at me.
They said a position shaped the person, and now I was spouting lines like a department manager.
“Go get that Master of Mukyak Hall to cooperate already. I’ll feel better if I see those two recover before I leave.”
“...Before you leave?”
“Yeah. I’m heading out into the martial world.”
Que Biao looked alarmed.
“But we have yet to recover...”
“I’m going alone.”
“What?”
This bastard. Every time they got upset or angry, they dropped the respectful speech without even asking.
“What’s this all of a sudden...?”
“Shut it. Get moving!”
* * *
“All right, have a drink. Anyone who leaves even one drop is an orthodox pretty boy.”
At my toast, their faces twisted with disgust, and they immediately emptied their cups.
I snorted as I watched Que Biao lick the inside of theirs.
I glanced around the interior of Joyful Delight Pavilion.
The people who had initially trembled and pressed their foreheads to the floor were now chatting noisily.
The cultists soon started boasting about their exploits on Bloodstrife Night, arguing over who had killed more people and who had stabbed someone in the back.
I had thought a place called the Demonic Cult would be full of three-headed, six-armed monsters. But people were people, even here.
“Gah!”
This was my first taste of the fire liquor I had only read about in novels, and it was no joke.
It lived up to its name. I felt as though I had swallowed a ball of fire.
My throat felt ready to burn away, and they kept drinking this stuff?
Worse, I had no internal energy, so I could not burn off the alcohol in my body.
Damn it, this was hardly a fair fight.
“Hehehe, Brother. Let me pour you another.”
“Huh? Sure.”
Still, I was the infamous Mad Demon. How could I turn down a drink?
I accepted the cup before I knew it, but... Ah, damn it. This was killing me.
After another round had been poured, they all stared at me with bright, eager eyes.
“...Anyone who doesn’t finish is the Blood Lord’s lackey.”
My toast once again put a fierce look in their eyes.
They immediately tipped back their bowls and gulped down the liquor.
“Gaaah!”
“Whew!”
After a few more rounds, my tongue was tangled and the room was spinning.
These bastards really did have a sense of loyalty.
Out of consideration for my lack of internal energy, they were not burning off their alcohol either.
“Wahahahaha! That’sh like shaying the Shiolin abbot’sh washing his hair!”
Que Biao’s sudden joke had them clutching their stomachs, but then they abruptly glanced around.
In a corner, a dark shadow had fallen over Tie Zhen’s face. He was suffering from severe hair loss.
Que Biao hurriedly changed the subject.
“Hic... Jin-gwang. Then... what do we do... while we’re shtaying here?”
“Ten Thoushand Demonsh Hall... Protect the Divine Maiden with your lives... Keep her shafe... No matter what...”
“Jin-gwang... Do you... really like... the Divine Maiden that much...?”
The unexpected nonsense gave me goose bumps.
“You little shit... There are thingsh you shouldn’t shay... I oughta...”
“But... the Divine Maiden can get married too, can’t she...?”
Que Biao’s tongue flopped around, thoroughly soaked in liquor.
They were so cute that I burst out laughing.
“Hah! That’sh... Ah, damn it! You don’t need to know... There’sh a reashon...”
“Heek! You do... like her... You’re hard. Rock hard.”
“Hey... I’m shtill the Maaaad Demon...”
Tie Zhen curled his lips into a grin, his eyes half closed.
“The... Raaape Demon...?”[1]
“Aaah...! Divine Maiden...!”
“Y-you little shitsh!”
Angry, I stood to kick over the drinking table, only to sway to one side.
They watched me and snickered.
Then I burst out laughing too.
“Pffft... You assholesh...”
Ha. Was this the Mad Demon’s life I would be living from now on?
“Drink!”
“Yeah, let’sh drink!”
They kept pouring fire liquor for one another and drinking for a good while before every last one of them planted their head on the table.
The Mad Demon’s body really was impressive.
To think I had beaten all these brutes.
Then Lang Bai suddenly jolted awake and struggled upright.
“Oh! Brother! We gotta... gotta drink...!”
Lang Bai crawled over without even straightening those disheveled clothes.
I shook my head in weary disbelief, then narrowed my eyes.
Lang Bai’s upper body showed through the loose clothing.
It was clearly not normal.
That back was badly bent. Could it be a disability?
Ah...
Only then did one of the Mad Demon’s memories flash through my head.
I had not noticed because Lang Bai always wore a long robe.
“Your back... Has it gotten more bent...?”
“Hehe... That’sh why... you alwaysh hated it, Brother...”
At last, the fragments of memory fitted together.
Lang Bai’s hunched back.
The Mad Demon shouting in irritation.
Lang Bai lying flat on the floor, sobbing and promising never to give another piggyback ride.
“You... son of a bitch...”
I had finally discovered the secret behind being carried like a bride.
Balance was everything in lightness arts.
Thinking about it, having your arms tied up carrying someone would actually make keeping your balance far harder.
Just how much of a piece of trash had this goddamn Mad Demon been?
“I’m... shorry...”
“Heh, why would you... shay that...?”
Smiling bitterly, Lang Bai snatched up a bottle gourd.
But it was upside down.
Trickle.
“Hey... It’sh upside down...”
The fire liquor soon spilled out, but Lang Bai was far too drunk to notice.
Then...
Thunk, thunk!
We both froze.
Lang Bai and I.
“Huh...?”
Just now.
With no stopper in that bottle gourd.
Lang Bai had tapped it rhythmically with an elbow.
“You... You... You little shit...?”
Footnotes:
[1] The drunken “Mad Demon” joke plays on Gwangma becoming Gangma, which Tie Zhen twists into Gangganma, “Rape Demon.”
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