HDCLSSRS Ch 44

Chapter 44 A Taste of Frustration (6)

 

Baek Ryeoil sat cross-legged with his arms folded. His eyebrows drew together in a straight line. At the end of his gaze was Seong Muyeon, who was, as usual, restlessly scrubbing and cleaning the entire Chwijeongjae.

“Ventilation must be done daily! Are you even listening!”

‘If I take my eyes off him for a moment, he causes trouble.’

Baek Ryeoil’s eyebrows twitched slightly.

Just yesterday, he almost got into a fight with the young disciples after poking his head out beyond the wall for no good reason.

This time, the little brat had thankfully stopped him, but similar incidents were bound to happen again.

“I said are you listening, you filthy bastard!”

‘…What do I do with him.’

Baek Ryeoil scratched his ear. Lately, more people had been seeking him out. The most troublesome were the senior martial brothers trying to attach unruly disciples to him. He figured that if he knocked them down one by one, they’d eventually give up…

“Ugh! This is so annoying I could die!”

As Baek Ryeoil erupted in frustration, Seong Muyeon also shouted along.

“Fine, I get it! I won’t do it anymore, you filthy man!”

“Huh?”

Seong Muyeon abruptly turned around and stomped off to the kitchen, where he began beating a rag violently.

Baek Ryeoil scratched the back of his head before pulling at his hair. He had lived his entire life without a single care or dilemma. But recently, there had been far too many things to think about.

Baek Ryeoil squinted and glared at Seong Muyeon’s back.

‘It’s all because of that guy.’

Just then, a presence surged toward Chwijeongjae from outside. It didn’t pause and came directly to the quarters.

Seong Muyeon, who was in the kitchen, was the first to greet them.

“Are you here to see Master Baek? Should I call him for you?”

“We’re not here for the Master—we’re here for you!”

The voice was full of fury. Baek Ryeoil, assuming it was another duel challenge, grimaced and tried to slip out the back door—but froze mid-step.

Meanwhile, Seong Muyeon, wiping his wet hands roughly on his clothes, widened his eyes.

“Pardon? Why me?”

The uninvited visitors turned out to be a second-generation disciple and some boys. From their composition, Seong Muyeon could roughly guess the reason for their visit.

Sure enough, a familiar third-generation disciple with a bruised, blue eyelid stepped forward. It was the same brat who had gotten knocked out cold by Kang Ung the day before.

“I demand accountability for what happened to my disciple!”

Apparently, the second-generation disciple was the boy’s master. The boy looked dejected in front of his teacher, shoulders drooping, but when he met Seong Muyeon’s eyes, he sneakily curled the corners of his lips.

‘Oh, really?’

Seong Muyeon felt a tingle run down the back of his neck. The one who had started the fight was now shamelessly pretending to be the victim to turn things in his favor.

“Here’s what actually happened…”

“You dare lay a hand on someone else’s precious disciple in another sect? I won’t let this go easily!”

“…I didn’t lay a hand on him.”

The one who hit him wasn’t Seong Muyeon—it was Kang Ung.

As that thought crossed his mind, Kang Ung, who had been standing quietly in a corner, trudged forward.

“I was the one who hit him. If there’s blame to be had, direct it at me, Master…”

He seemed to have already been scolded thoroughly, shoulders hunched in guilt. He was also clearly anxious that Seong Muyeon might get in trouble because of him.

“Silence! You think you’ve done nothing wrong, talking back like that? I’ll deal with you later. Now, young master, what were you thinking?”

The furious second-generation disciple sharply turned toward Seong Muyeon.

“At first, I thought you were just some pitiful outsider. But then you bring in strangers, and what happened to Senior Jang? And now you’re even laying hands on young disciples? Speak, Sang-yeop. What exactly did he do?”

“H-he incited Senior Kang to beat me up and then… he… he’s terrifying, Master.”

The boy, leaning on his master’s authority, trembled as he put on a pitiful act with a quivering voice.

Seong Muyeon was dumbfounded.

“You heard him! I’ve never in my life…!”

“Enough. Master Kang bears no fault—let him go.”

If it weren’t for Seong Muyeon, Kang Ung wouldn’t have been dragged into this at all. Moreover, Seong Muyeon had provoked him into hitting the boy, so the responsibility was heavy.

“And who are you to be calling the shots?!”

The second-generation disciple yelled so loud his veins bulged. He looked on the verge of bursting a vessel.

“Master Kang was just with me and got caught up in the mess.”

“Oh really? Then you admit that you assaulted my disciple?”

“Master, please look at me. Do I look like someone capable of assaulting anyone? Let alone a disciple of Hwasan?”

Seong Muyeon raised his thin, trembling arm. It was still quivering from having vigorously scrubbed with the rag, making his claim somewhat convincing.

Even the second-generation disciple seemed to find that hard to believe. No matter how young a disciple was, they had all undergone grueling training to become warriors, and only those showing real promise were accepted into the Hwasan Sect. Comparing them to a mere civilian was absurd. Besides, Seong Muyeon looked so feeble that he seemed incapable of hurting even a fly.

“But you are causing trouble in Hwasan, aren’t you? Why do you bring chaos wherever you go? Our disciples are suffering because of you!”

Still, the second-generation disciple had stormed all the way here in anger. His pride wouldn’t allow him to back down so easily.

“The ones who started the fight were your disciple’s peers, and Master Kang only responded. I’ll ensure something like this never happens again from the start…”

“So now you’re saying my disciple is at fault?!”

“…”

The light vanished from Seong Muyeon’s eyes.

As someone affiliated with the Daoist sect, he had once admired it. But now he was realizing that this place, too, was filled with ordinary, flawed people.

…He wished he hadn’t learned that.

The second-generation disciple kept screeching like a squawking bird.

“If you’re in someone else’s sect, you should show respect, huh?! This is why people can’t stand demonic cult brats like you…!”

“…”

“I’m being reasonable here, coming to speak face-to-face!”

“…”

Seong Muyeon had always considered himself socially competent, thanks to living two lifetimes. But now…

‘So what? Does he expect me to kneel or something?’

His head was starting to throb. He couldn’t understand what this second-generation disciple wanted from him.

This behavior was nothing but a tantrum. Expecting a rational, intellectual response to investigate the cause and prevent recurrence was clearly too much. The man was simply upset.

Seong Muyeon stared coldly at the third-generation disciple with the bruised face. The boy flinched, then sneaked a victorious smirk when no one was looking.

…His fist itched. Trembled.

Seong Muyeon knew he was like a jagged stone stuck in the wrong place here. He had to handle things as peacefully as possible. Hadn’t he already caused a major incident before?

‘Right, peacefully. As much as I can.’

With a soft smile, Seong Muyeon opened his mouth.

“I heard Hwasan values discussion and negotiation. I guess that was just a rumor?”

“W-what?!”

Oops. A slip. But…

“Don’t you know who I am?!”

The second-generation disciple screamed.

‘How am I supposed to not get pissed after hearing that?’

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Let it all fall apart, then.

“That’s not what I meant to say, but since it came up… You said I dragged outsiders in? That’s a misunderstanding. I was kidnapped. Out there—especially for someone from the Demonic Sect like me—it’s far too dangerous to come here willingly.”

At last, Seong Muyeon’s patience had reached its limit. He spoke rapidly, already half resigned to the consequences. Living with the Namgung clan wouldn’t be so bad anyway.

“You say that now, but who knows if you’re just spinning a tale to save face after something went wrong!”

“You can ask Master Baek Ryeoil. He’s the one who saved me.”

At the mention of Baek Ryeoil, the second-generation disciple paled and clammed up.

“And about Master Jang Hansu—seems you think I provoked him on purpose. That’s also a misunderstanding. Master Jang had a personal grudge against the Demonic Sect. In that situation, with me openly walking around, it’s no surprise he was enraged. Falling into a qi deviation wouldn’t have been strange. I was terrified.”

“Th-that’s…”

“I hear rumors are quite twisted within Hwasan. That’s probably why the disciples misunderstood me, too. Now that we’ve cleared this up, I trust nothing like this will happen again?”

Seong Muyeon swept his cold gaze over the boys. The ones who had lied to their master hurriedly avoided his eyes.

‘They were never after me in the first place.’

Their real target had always been Kang Ung. Running into Seong Muyeon had simply given them a convenient excuse.

“Then what are you saying? That my disciple getting beaten up is all just nothing?!”

This was going nowhere.

Just as Seong Muyeon opened his mouth to respond—

“Why are you taking it out on an innocent person just because your disciple’s weak as hell?”

Baek Ryeoil strolled out, swinging his arms casually. The moment he appeared, the air fell silent like cold water had been poured over it. Though he only cast a passive glance at the crowd, those in his gaze shrank back and avoided his eyes.