HDCLSSRS Ch 12

Chapter 12 Is This What It Means to Live? (5)

 

Georyang scoffed as if he found it ridiculous.

“What the hell is this, a rat-sized brat.”

“You’re going to regret saying that.”

Seong Muyeon glared at the middle-aged man standing beside him.

“Branch Director Heo Jimyeong, you know who I am.”

The branch director had maintained a disinterested expression the whole time, but the moment he confirmed Seong Muyeon’s face, his pupils contracted and his jaw dropped. The color drained rapidly from his face.

Director Heo hastily bowed deeply.

“Y-Y-Young Lord Seven!”

Seong Muyeon sighed inwardly in relief. He had secretly been worried the man wouldn’t recognize him. But outwardly, he maintained a composed demeanor. In this damn demonic cult, a moment of weakness would get you stabbed in the back.

Even if you had nothing, you had to rule.

Director Heo turned pale to the point of trembling and kicked Georyang hard in the shin.

“You bastard! How dare you point a weapon at the Young Lord! Get rid of that hideous thing at once!”

Georyang seemed to not fully understand what was happening, but he at least lowered his weapon. Then, following the director’s scolding, all the cult warriors fell to their knees.

“Y-Young Lord Seven! What in the world…! Why are you in such a dangerous place!”

“Why else? One of your subordinates kidnapped me, that’s why.”

“Th-That can’t be! I’ll behead them immediately and offer them in apology!”

All eyes in the hall were now focused on Seong Muyeon. They were shocked that this young man, who had suddenly appeared, had completely subdued the terrifying warriors of the cult with a single presence.

Namgung Cheonchu barely managed to stay on his feet. Gasping for breath, he forced out a few words.

“…You… You deceived me.”

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and one of his eyes was swollen shut.

Seong Muyeon glanced down at Namgung Cheonchu briefly, then turned away without a word. Whatever was said now wouldn’t be heard anyway. Judging by the state he was in, it was doubtful whether he’d even remember anything.

He squatted in front of the branch director.

“Why don’t you explain what the hell is going on here.”

The branch director looked like he might faint.

“I-I deserve death…”

“No, not an apology. An explanation. What the hell were you planning, kidnapping civilians like this?”

“T-That’s…”

The director bowed his head obediently but refused to answer.

It was in moments like this that Seong Muyeon’s true nature revealed itself.

Young Lord Seven was a pretty shell with no substance. Though the thoroughly trained cultists bowed before him, inwardly they harbored other intentions.

Perhaps he was the highest in this room, but outside, there were those more powerful and merciless, true ‘leaders’ more fitting for their allegiance. They never forgot that.

Irritation flared within him.

“Fine. Whatever. If you don’t want to talk, don’t.”

“Th-Thank you…”

“But the civilians must be released.”

“That is not possible!”

Seong Muyeon’s face chilled.

“Then explain why not. Does the Grand Tower know about what you’re doing? Do you understand this could shake the foundation of the cult itself?”

“…”

The branch director was someone who had to carry out Seong Muyeon’s order to ‘go die’ without hesitation. That level of resolve was required to ascend to a high rank.

But now, they served someone else.

As Seong Muyeon’s gaze turned icier, the branch director cautiously studied his expression.

Eventually, with trembling lips, he opened his mouth.

“…It… It was under Third Young Lord’s orders. He… he’s on his way here now.”

Seong Muyeon inhaled sharply.

The Third Young Lord.

The third son of the cult leader.

To Seong Muyeon, he was the third eldest brother—someone who would one day surpass the eldest and second eldest to succeed the cult leader’s position.

‘Come to think of it, Third Brother was in charge of the Honam branch.’

Aside from Seong Muyeon, the siblings had each taken up positions managing different regions.

And now, the Third Young Lord was coming here?

A foreboding feeling rose in Seong Muyeon. Whatever he was planning, it couldn’t be good.

“You know what?”

“Pardon?”

Seong Muyeon pointed at someone—the one who had kicked him earlier.

“That bastard kicked my ass earlier.”

A beating broke out.

“You filthy wretch! How dare you touch the Young Lord!”

“Crush him! Today’s your funeral!”

While they were distracted, Seong Muyeon inspected the altar in the center. It was covered in incomprehensible patterns that extended to the floor. At the convergence of those markings, there was—nothing.

‘…What is this.’

And the numerous people… some helped Namgung Cheonchu to his feet. On their faces was deep despair, as though they had lost their last hope.

“Ahaha! Come inside, please! No need to remain standing here.”

The branch director grabbed him and guided him away.

Seong Muyeon’s eyes briefly met Namgung Cheonchu’s confused ones, but he deliberately turned his head.

Upon leaving the chamber, a long hallway stretched ahead. Two cult warriors stood guard in front of the door.

The director led him to a luxurious room.

“I’d heard that the Young Lord had left for the Central Plains for recuperation, but I never imagined I’d see you like this. You must’ve endured much hardship.”

The director gave him a sour expression as he looked him up and down. Then, he called for the attendants.

Seong Muyeon was treated with utmost care for the first time in a while.

The attendants removed his rough linen clothes and dressed him in soft silk. They washed his hair, applied fragrant oil, and neatly combed it before setting the headpiece. The countryside youth vanished, and the Seventh Young Lord of the cult emerged in full form.

“That was a close call. What were you thinking, walking around alone without an escort? No wonder something bad happened.”

‘…You’re the one who did something bad.’

“It just happened that way. Anyway, when is my third brother arriving?”

“In about three days.”

“Really? I’d like to greet him, but I have an urgent matter and must leave.”

He didn’t seem to have immediate plans for the hostages. Right now, the Namgung Clan was likely nearby, searching for Namgung Cheonchu.

First, he needed to get outside and make contact…

But Georyang blocked the door with his hulking body.

“Branch Director? What is this?”

The branch director gave an awkward smile.

“I apologize, Young Lord. The Third Young Lord will surely want to see his brother. Please wait and meet with him before leaving.”

“I said I have urgent business.”

“Please delay it briefly. What could be more important than family? Besides, you must be hungry. I’ll have food brought in.”

The director left the room with the attendants.

“…”

Now he was alone in the large room with Georyang.

The director’s behavior felt off. The Third Young Lord had never shown any interest in him before. At most, they had briefly seen each other during major events. They had never spoken privately.

So why would he now want to meet his younger brother?

He had left the cold prison cell, only to find himself in a luxurious one.

His instincts, honed by a life as prey, were sounding alarms.

‘I must not meet the Third Young Lord.’

He had three days. In that time, he had to come up with something.

Soon after, a sumptuous feast was brought in. They say even ghosts look better when well-fed. For now, he filled his belly.

‘How do I get out of here?’

He glanced at Georyang, standing solidly in front of the door. The man was twice his size. There was no way he could overpower someone like that.

‘…If I can’t get out, then I’ll draw someone in.’

“Branch Director!”

“Yes, did you call for me!”

When Seong Muyeon called, the branch director appeared immediately.

“I need to borrow some men.”

“Pardon…? For what purpose…?”

Seong Muyeon was lounging on a chair, idly grooming his nails. It was a truly princely pose befitting a cult heir.

He grinned.

“There’s someone I need to settle a debt with.”

“A debt?”

“You see…”

Upon hearing the details, the director fumed.

“How dare a lowly member of the Mount Hua Sect lay a hand on the Young Lord! Unforgivable. We must show them the might of our cult!”

“My thoughts exactly. So, lend me some men.”

The director’s face darkened.

“But… Did you say it was Baek Ryeoil of the Merciless Sword? He’s a formidable opponent. I’m concerned whether our branch can handle him. Perhaps it would be best to wait until the Third Young Lord arrives. If he intervenes, someone like Baek Ryeoil is nothing.”

“Hey, Director. Are you looking down on me right now?”

“What? Of course not!”

Seong Muyeon sprang from his chair and acted as if truly offended. The director quickly bowed his head.

“Are you saying that just because I’m in this state, I can’t handle one man?”

Seong Muyeon’s voice dropped low. His tone had suddenly turned authoritarian.

“N-No… That’s not what I meant…”

“Not what you meant?! Every time it’s ‘Third Young Lord this, Third Young Lord that’… Do I look like some kid who just hides behind his big brother, waiting for instructions? You think it’s right to bother Third Brother over something this petty?!”

“Y-Young Lord…”

The director’s complexion turned ghastly pale. Seong Muyeon sat beside him and whispered sweetly.

“Director, can you imagine how pleased my brother would be if, when he arrives, he’s presented not only with Namgung’s young lord, but also that Baek Ryeoil from Mount Hua?”

The director’s pupils trembled. He seemed to picture himself offering up both Namgung Cheonchu and Baek Ryeoil—and a smile began to spread across his lips.