TSBIRBV Ch 73

Chapter 73 An Esper Who Knows When to Act (3)

Yegyeol tried to get up from his seat, but his legs trembled like a newborn lamb’s. Je Haryang, the gentle Senior Brother, reached out his hand.

“What on earth is going on?” His heart pounded wildly just from the touch on the back of his hand despite knowing Senior Brother was watching him. He couldn’t calm down.

“Still…” Catching the eyes of an innocent esper and looking at him with genuine concern, he felt like he wanted to be deceived. No, he had to be deceived.

“Thank you, Senior Brother.” Yegyeol hesitated briefly, then took Haryang’s hand and stood.

Having maintained esper ethics and satisfied his own feelings, he plopped back down and took a breath.

He thought it would be easier to sprint a hundred meters than to fool Senior Brother once like this.

“You’re too weak; I worry for you. Your body is badly damaged…” Haryang said while gently stroking the back of Yegyeol’s hand, not releasing him as the latter tried to pull away.

Fragments of conscience stabbed him. After all, he had crossed into the Central Plains, burning a whole mountain village with bare hands and setting countless traps involving serpents.

“It’s a pity your body has become one that cannot cultivate martial skill while you were gone. If only I’d used the Divine Elixir and the ‘Beol-mo-se-su’ technique, you might be better now.”

“Beol-mo-se-su? Even if I received such a precious great method, my stars are unaligned; I won’t achieve mastery,” Yegyeol waved his hands dismissively.

There’s a joke these days that spreading the rumor that even weeds boost virility will cause them to go extinct. But in the martial world, if word spreads that inner energy is strong, extinction truly follows.

Martial artists with reddened eyes rush to devour it entirely.

Therefore, potent elixirs that enhance internal energy (inner qi) are costly.

Moreover, the Beol-mo-se-su technique is reserved for direct descendants of the Five Dominant Clans, specifically only some with superior bone and muscle constitution, and typically at a very young age.

To cleanse impurities from energy channels and vessels, several great masters must cooperate, and even if not as potent as the Great Revival Pill (대환단), a powerful summoning pill-level elixir is needed.

Furthermore, the effectiveness diminishes with age; thus, for Yegyeol, already over twenty and unable to form the energy core, its effect would be akin only to vitamin injections or drips.

“Honestly, Senior Brother’s guiding is better than mountain ginseng.”

Yegyeol lowered his gaze, trying to hide his greed.

“If it means you get healthy, what’s the use of those elixirs or techniques?” Haryang said, gently stroking Yegyeol’s head, pretending not to notice the disciple pulling back his shoulders.

“You must stay by this Senior Brother’s side for a long time.”

Yegyeol couldn’t take his eyes off Haryang’s face. Beneath his gentleness lurked coercion and obsession.

“I’ve been away… away too long, haven’t I?”

Whispering softly, Haryang smiled.

“I never waited.”

Twenty years and ten months. And four days.

He never waited, yet the moment he met Yegyeol, Haryang could so easily count the time passed.

He had never forgotten the day his disciple died.

“So don’t feel sorry.”

Dinner ended like that.

Feeling full, Yegyeol put down his chopsticks, and Haryang escorted his disciple back to his quarters.

Hearing Haryang’s footsteps fade, Yegyeol held his breath, still with things left to do.

The world dimmed; closing his eyes briefly and opening them, Yegyeol found what he sought and smirked.

“Then the audience has arrived.”

Dragging himself over to the bed, Yegyeol pulled the blanket over himself, loosened his clothes carelessly, and slowly moved his hands.

He touched the chest he rarely explored alone, ran down his lower belly, and gripped his own genitalia.

Even when living in Korea, he rarely masturbated.

Espers before meeting a guide usually fall into two types:

One becomes a shameless beast who runs wild every night to forget pain via pleasure.

The other becomes as ascetic as a monk.

Yegyeol was definitely the latter.

Among espers filled with madness, his mental state was uniquely twisted. Therefore, he was cautious about forming relationships with others, sensitive to physical contact—especially after long forced hospitalization trauma.

That’s why among the many espers in the Center, he was nicknamed “that prickly kid.”

“Unnn…”

A slight touch didn’t immediately arouse his body; only unfamiliar stimulation on usually untouched areas felt foreign.

Closing his eyes, Yegyeol more clearly recalled that night shared with Senior Brother.

The hands that pulled off his clothes were purposeful. Though gentle and tender, they never ceased even as Yegyeol pretended to struggle.

Haryang’s affection was one-sided.

His ceaseless kindness was like an ocean, waves crashing relentlessly despite pleas to stop, engulfing Yegyeol.

“Hmph.”

A sweeter breath escaped Yegyeol’s lips.

The heat from the weight pressing on his back against his skin felt clearer than ever.

Yegyeol slowly moved his hand wrapped around his penis—not too roughly, just gently.

He was imitating the only caress he knew. His craving welled up, but he knew dry lips needed more than water, curling up on the bed.

“Aah, huh, hnn…”

As stimulation built, the sensitive passage Haryang had imprinted with pleasure twitched.

His hypersensitive body roared.

“Ugh… uh…”

Yet Yegyeol touched only his lower body, leaving his rear untouched.

Not because he disliked insertion.

‘Honestly, espers recover faster than guides; pressure is natural.’

That way, he could do it more often, more fully.

Ignoring Senior Brother’s status as a martial artist—and a top-tier one—Yegyeol came to a narrow-minded conclusion.

“Aah, ah… ugh!”

With a shag once in his mouth, Yegyeol muffled his moan, trying harder to bear it.

His penis dribbled precum. He felt climax was near.

Yet he never climaxed, withdrawing.

“Why… why can’t I?”

He sobbed sharply, chastising himself aloud.

“I’m crazy. Definitely crazy.”

He did not care who might hear.

Because it was an act meant to be overheard.

“Senior Brother, aah! Senior Brother…”

He called out with a voice feigning sorrow and helplessness, as if unsure what to do.

The one person he must never call.

“No, no… it can’t be.”

Sniffling, a smile lingered on Yegyeol’s lips.

The night was quiet except for insect sounds and his sobbing, but he knew.

On the other side of the wall was Senior Brother.

‘What use is it if a martial artist hides their presence?’

Thanks to a newly developed ability trained against Samrang, he had many uses.

He even gained an edge at detecting the quietly moving Senior Brother, whose occupation was suspicious when compared to Samrang.

From that moment, Yegyeol waited for the right moment to step onto the stage using this ability.

‘I didn’t expect it to be this fast.’

“Hmph!”

Snap, snap.

He snapped his fingers roughly. His skin rubbed raw and red, but Yegyeol felt no special sensation.

“Sorry, sorry… Senior Brother…”

How would this sound through the wall to Je Haryang?

How would it feel to the man observing his disciple moaning and calling his name, unaware the disciple knew him?

Yegyeol licked his lower lip.

‘He won’t avoid it now.’

That was certain.

When Yegyeol decided he might die from addiction, his Senior Brother abstained from overlapping bodies for detox.

During that process, Je Haryang violated two taboos: first, engaging in sexual acts with his disciple; second, embracing a man.

Having observed that Je Haryang showed no sign of regret or agitation after the incident, Yegyeol reached one conclusion.

Senior Brother’s morals were quite messed up.

His moral compass was twisted such that he would casually perform actions that the old Je Haryang would never dare.

All for one purpose: to save Yegyeol.

‘So… like a runaway train with broken steering, going only straight ahead.’

Though it likely operated with more complex mechanisms, Je Haryang fundamentally moved by a goal-oriented consciousness: ‘to keep Yegyeol alive, and as intact as possible.’

Now Yegyeol only needed to subtly adjust his Senior Brother’s path as he wished.

Je Haryang was very lucky that Yegyeol was the Black Ghost. Since the disciple’s identity was that of Black Ghost, Je could always act like a virtuous Senior Brother.

But Yegyeol could also leverage being the Black Ghost.

“Sniff… sob… sob…”

Yegyeol buried his face in both hands and cried and cried.

‘I won’t say it’s all to protect Senior Brother.’

With no artificial tears nor even onions, the fiercely stubborn esper was ready to hurt his own eyes to produce tears.

‘But Senior Brother… please save me.’

Maybe there are other guides like Namgung Un. Perhaps someone who could mix with him not only physically but mentally.

But I must have you.

“Senior Brother… sob, Senior Brother…”

The sly disciple didn’t realize he was pouring poison into his own ears, while Je Haryang remained beside him through the night until the exhausted Yegyeol finally fell asleep.