Chapter 243: Wanderers Have Their Own Code of Honor

Truthfully, there's likely no difference in intelligence between the primitive proto-humans of the pre-modern era and modern people.

However, one area starkly highlights their difference: modern humans are far physically weaker than their ancestors. In exchange, they gained adaptability with tools.

At the very least, modern people can usually get the hang of operating tools after fiddling with them a bit.

This was true for Qing as well. Cheon Yuhak had memorized the operation of the Lithe Grace Refinement training platform while enduring all sorts of nagging from his master ("Ha, you can't even memorize that? You'll end up severing your disciple's tendons and meridians later, aigoo, I suppose this is the end for the Divine Thief lineage, sigh..." and so on). Qing, however, picked it up smoothly.

As someone with a background in production, she knew that such non-electric, primitive mechanical devices wouldn't break as long as you followed one rule:

Don't force it. That was it.

Thanks to this, after twisting and tightening things here and there, Qing became quite adept at operating the training platform.

Unfortunately, due to her initial clumsiness, three precious fingers were snapped backward and broken at the joints before she could even savor the sensation of them slowly tearing.

"Mmph! Mmmph! Mmmmmph!"

Qing asked, "Grandpa. Is there something you want to say?"

"Mmph! Mmph!" Gyeongdamgan responded vehemently.

Qing pondered for a moment.

Hmm, should I remove this? But what if he bites his tongue? Hmm, bite it?

Qing slapped her palm with her fist and then removed Gyeongdamgan's gag.

Gyeongdamgan yelled, "What is the meaning of this! As a martial artist of the Righteous Fac—"

Qing clamped her hand over Gyeongdamgan's jaw as it moved up and down, muffling the rest of his words.

"Come to think of it," Qing said, "the gag was to prevent you from biting your tongue or teeth, wasn't it? But are we really close enough to worry about each other's dental health?"

Then, Qing viciously jammed her fingers into Gyeongdamgan's mouth.

Gyeongdamgan bit down with all his might, but it would be laughable if the beautiful hands wielding the White Hand Demonic Arts, feared throughout the world, were injured by mere teeth.

"Ah," Qing continued. "What am I going to do? I'm going to pull out all your healthy teeth, Grandpa. Then you won't get hurt even without a gag, right?"

"Ahhh!"

"I should give the pulled teeth to Young Lady Murong as a gift," Qing said. "I heard you enjoy pulling healthy teeth too, grandpa. You pulled four of Young Lady Murong's molars. Revenge should be repaid a hundred, a thousand times over, so giving her all of yours should be some comfort, right? Alright. One."

"Aaack!" Gyeongdamgan screamed.

"Two," Qing counted.

"Aaack!!" Gyeongdamgan screamed again.

"Aish, disgusting!" Qing snapped. "Why are you licking someone else's hand? Are you a dog, grandpa? Ah, right, you are a son of a bitch. Do you think licking will push my fingers away? Just give up and think of it as paying for your sins in your old age."

"Aaack!" Gyeongdamgan cried out.

"Okay," Qing said. "Here goes number four. Aigoo, this grandpa has such healthy teeth. I don't know why experts have such good dental health too. Is it the mysterious power of Internal Energy?"

Qing pulled out Gyeongdamgan's teeth one by one, skipping every other one.

Normally, human teeth are called 'i' (이), while animal teeth are called 'ippal' (이빨). Considering this, it was more fitting to call Gyeongdamgan's 'ippal'.

Qing had thought they'd pop out easily like pieces of a modular toy, held firmly in place, but surprisingly, there was something tough like a tendon, oooh.

Indeed, the tooth roots held fast, so when Qing applied force, there was a richly satisfying sensation as it tore away with clinging flesh, providing a solid, fulfilling sensation.

It is a creature's instinct to thrash about when in pain, an attempt to disperse the nerves and lessen the agony even slightly.

Conversely, preventing movement means the pain intensifies.

Gyeongdamgan yelled, "Kraaack! How can you be so cruel! You heartless, tearless wench! How can someone like you be a righteous expert of the Orthodox Murim! You're like the world's damn Killing Fiend!"

Of course, Gyeongdamgan's pronunciation was extremely unclear with all his teeth gone, but this was how Qing interpreted it.

"Aigoo," Qing cooed, "'Kill me! Kill me!'"

"Hmm. Wrong. It's not 'kill me,' but 'please kill me.' Very politely. 'Please, I beg you, kill me.' While shedding tears, begging and pleading, maybe then I'll consider it. Though I wouldn't grant it anyway," Qing said with a sweet smile.

Gyeongdamgan was still confused.

Was this the revenge of a martial artist from the extremely radical faction within the Righteous Faction, one who believed villains must die excruciatingly painful deaths?

Or was it merely an event for the pleasure of a Killing Fiend who enjoyed the suffering of others?

And now he knew. Gyeongdamgan realized, This one... she's the same kind as me.

"Oh my," Qing remarked. "You're showing some fear now. Hmm. Well, respect originally stems from fear. Will you be a bit more polite now? How dare a moldy old geezer like you spew informalities to a young lady young enough to be your granddaughter? Honestly, the these old geezers these days have no sense of hierarchy, tsk."

It sounded like something from a world where the roles of old and young were completely reversed.

Since she was just spewing whatever came out, Qing didn't even know what she was saying.

It was just the psychology of a child chattering away excitedly.

Gyeongdamgan pleaded, "Save me, save..."

"My goodness," Qing interrupted. "You're not getting it. Not 'save me,' but 'kill me.' That's how an grandpa should beg. But I won't grant it. Hehe. Annoying, right? But what can you do about it, grandpa? Going to bite your tongue now that you have no teeth?"

Gyeongdamgan started, "I—"

Qing simply beamed prettily and cut Gyeongdamgan off.

"Think of it as practice before you go to hell," Qing continued. "Ah. And the soundproofing here is really good, and I truly enjoy listening to screams, so don't hold back, feel free to let it all out. Well then, shall we start playing for real?"

A loud and enjoyable time passed.

Qing deepened her understanding of the human body considerably.

Through numerous attempts, she completely mastered how far joints and tendons could endure, the amount of resistance encountered upon reaching their operational limits, and how much more force was needed to completely break them.

After all the joints of the Reviled Mad Demon were crippled, Qing, exhausted, flopped onto the floor.

But only the joints were broken; the bones and flesh were still intact, meaning there was still plenty of fun left.

The Lithe Grace Refinement training platform was truly the greatest artifact in the Central Plains, Qing could declare with certainty.

And then, Qing did exactly as she pleased. The only downside was that the Great Demonic Adept, who had been letting out such pleasing shrieks, gradually lowered his volume after a certain point.

Qing even poured salt water into the Reviled Mad Demon's mouth to encourage his vocal cords, but the effect was only temporary.

The Reviled Mad Demon begged, "Please kill me, please, I beg you. Kill, kill me. I was wrong, I am a criminal deserving death. So please kill me..."

"Aish," Qing complained, "stop being noisy while someone's trying to rest."

The Reviled Mad Demon choked back a sound, "Hup."

"I'll kill you, so just wait," Qing stated. "The playtime is over now."

"Thank, thank you," the Reviled Mad Demon whispered.

Qing chuckled and replied. "Playtime's over, now it's time to start for real. It's no fun without seeing blood, after all. I'll untie you, so if you don't want to be dissected alive, run away. If you don't run, I'll take it as consent and start flaying the flesh from your fingertips."

Not a single tendon connecting to bone remained intact in the body of the Blood Cult's Great Demonic Adept, the Reviled Mad Demon.

Even if untied now, all he could do was squirm.

"Heek, kill, kill me, kill me please!" the Reviled Mad Demon shrieked.

"Didn't I answer that at the beginning?" Qing retorted. "That I wouldn't grant it anyway. You've spent your whole life torturing others, yet you can't even endure this much? How pathetic."

As someone who had endured—and splendidly endured a long process lasting three shichen—Qing had the right to say so.

Qing smiled and drew her Blue Sword.

The sharp divine weapon had been returned through the compliant cooperation of the Blood Cult warrior.

And then.

Qing thought, I used to wonder why they always torture people in bathrooms in movies. But it's so convenient to wash up cleanly right after. Everyone knows what's good.

Qing's eyes were clear as she stepped out of the bath.

Not a single speck of desire remained, truly the serene gaze of a Buddha who had reached nirvana.

Qing's next match was against Wang Nopil, the master of violence using a chair.

However, due to the aftereffects of having his abdomen cut open and the poisonous salamander removed, he couldn't participate in the duel and submitted a withdrawal.

"You didn't have to withdraw," Qing said. "I could have gone easy on you. You should have at least swung your chair around stylishly before stepping down."

"Haha—ack." Wang Nopil tried to laugh manfully but clutched his solar plexus. A hearty laugh used more abdominal muscles than expected, causing the not-yet-fully-healed wound in his belly to throb.

"Isn't it that you only know who's longer or shorter after comparing them?" Wang Nopil countered. "No matter how much of a sword master Young Lady Ximen is, the outcome of a duel is—"

"Do you really need to compare a bamboo shoot and a bamboo stalk to know which one is longer?" Qing replied. "This is purely an honorable defeat."

"Honorable defeat?" Wang Nopil asked.

"Isn't it an honorable defeat because you can say you couldn't fight due to surgery, even though you would have lost anyway?" Qing explained. "You were probably planning to say something like, 'If only I didn't have this hole in my gut, I could have taken out the Hidden Dragon Tournament winner in the quarterfinals.'"

At that, Wang Nopil winced again as he tried to laugh.

"You seem quite certain of victory," Wang Nopil observed.

"Isn't it obvious?" Qing replied.

After finishing her sick visit to the wanderers squatting illegally on the third floor of the Mucheon Pavilion, Qing briskly climbed the stairs to the top floor she occupied.

In the best guest room of the Murim Alliance, used by Qing and Ximen Surin, there was another illegal occupant.

"Young Lady Murong. How are you feeling?" Qing asked.

"Heek." Murong Juhui flinched violently, pulling the blanket over her head.

Then, she slowly lowered it, peeking out with only her eyes to look at Qing.

Qing looked at Murong Juhui with pity.

"Wh-what!" Murong Juhui stammered. "What's with that look! It's creepy!?"

"It's alright," Qing said gently. "I understand everything. Look, I don't know if this will be much comfort. But it's a gift."

Qing handed over a fine silk bundle.

Murong Juhui, half suspicious and half reluctant, unwrapped the bundle and then jumped back, startled.

In the commotion, Gyeongdamgan's teeth, cleaned white, flew into the air and scattered everywhere.

"What are you doing!" Murong Juhui cried out. "Why are you doing this to me!"

"Those," Qing explained. "They're the Reviled Mad Demon's teeth. I hoped they might bring Young Lady Murong some comfort. Of course, they were all pulled while he was alive."

"I don't need, need this crap! Why! Why are you doing this to me! What did I do wrong! Just get lost! I hate you! I despise you! I don't even want to see you!" Murong Juhui shrieked as if having a fit.

No, it was a fit.

Qing's eye twitched.

Qing thought, Aish, saved her and she's still throwing a damn fit.

But she could understand.

After enduring such cruelty, it was only natural for her mind to become ill.

Qing offered comfort in her own way.

It was the same comfort her Sworn Sister had given her when Qing was struggling in the Demonic Cult. Because it had genuinely been a great solace then.

Qing forcefully pulled Murong Juhui into an embrace.

"Let go! Let go! What are you doing!" Murong Juhui struggled, crying.

"It's alright," Qing soothed. "Shhh. It's okay. Young Lady Murong did nothing wrong. I took care of all the bad guys. Think of it as a bad dream, a terrible nightmare. I believe Young Lady Murong is strong enough to overcome it. Because you are strong in both body and mind."

"Let, let go..." Murong Juhui's voice was thick with tears.

"Everything's fine," Qing continued. "And nobody in the world will ever know what happened to Young Lady Murong. Only four people know, and they all know how to keep their mouths shut, so rest assured."

The only people who knew about Murong Juhui's kidnapping were Qing, Ximen Surin, Tang Nanah, and Poison Grandfather.

"So rest easy, and focus on your recovery, ugh! Aaack!" Qing suddenly stopped comforting her and cried out from a sharp pain surging through her.

Qing's pain-filled voice trembled faintly. "Why, why...?"

(T/N I found inner peace again, ahhh)