Chapter 89: The Heavenly Demon Cult Serial Murder Case #5 – No Chinese Allowed, Absolutely Not.

As Gyeon Pohee helped Qing slip her arms into her sleeves, she suddenly blurted out,

“Junior sister, did you hear!?”

“…You’re gonna have to tell me what exactly I’m supposed to have heard first.”

“The Peace Pavilion’s barracks burned down! Completely reduced to ashes! And all the prisoners escaped!”

Qing had only burned down two buildings.

And she had merely unlocked the prison cells.

The prisoners, upon being granted sudden freedom, had decided to celebrate the occasion with a good old-fashioned midnight bonfire.

“Oh. Really? What a… terrible tragedy.”

“A tragedy? No way! I’m thrilled!”

“…Why exactly is my senior sister so happy about this?”

“Well, I owed the Peace Pavilion some money! The interest got so bad I had to sign a bunch of pledges, but now they’ve all gone up in flames!”

“…Pledges?”

“Yeah! Things like… ‘comforting warriors during the future war to liberate the Central Plains,’ ‘volunteering as a test subject for new medical procedures,’ ‘serving as an emergency surrogate if the Sacred Bloodlines of the cult are in danger of extinction,’ and ‘priority supplier of food in case of total isolation.’ You know, stuff like that.”

Not a single one of those things sounded minor.

Gyeon Pohee had basically pawned away her entire future.

Just in case, Qing asked,

“…Do you actually know what any of that means?”

“Nope. But they said it wouldn’t be too hard.”

Qing nodded in understanding.

Damn. Guess all that arson was worth it.

These bastards weren’t just bastards.

Maybe she should’ve stuck around longer and burned a few more.

“…So how much did you even borrow to end up in that mess?”

“Lift your hips.”

As Gyeon Pohee adjusted Qing’s skirt, she casually answered,

“About thirty silver taels?”

“That’s… a lot.”

Qing hadn’t actually been curious—this was just the usual small talk between acquaintances.

Then, the mood shifted.

“…Yeah. My mom was sick.”

“Oh. Medical expenses.”

“But then they suddenly jacked up the interest to thirty percent a month. When I borrowed it, they swore it was thirty percent a year. But everyone else acted like it was normal, so I just went along with it.”

That was how the cult controlled its followers.

Tianshan Divine City was an isolated wasteland with no natural resources, no major trade hubs, and nothing to sustain its people.

Everything depended on the elite warriors who left the city for missions in the Central Plains.

And the cult? It ran more businesses than anyone could count.

A religiously fanatic army of smugglers, grave robbers, bandits, human traffickers, drug cartels, and loan sharks kept the cult’s economy running.

Money and resources flowed in from outside—then trickled down to the cult’s officials.

In other words, the elite warriors and their affiliated sects.

So if you were just another nobody in Tianshan Divine City?

You either learned martial arts and joined a combat unit—or you died drowning in debt.

That was how the First Heavenly Demon’s glorious vision of a fully militarized cult had come to life.

"So, is your mother okay now?"

"Nope. She’s dead."

"...Oh. Sorry."

Qing, now even more uncomfortable, shut her mouth.

But Gyeon Pohee just smiled cheerfully.

"Nah, it’s fine! My mom and I were basically enemies anyway. All she ever did was call me a dumb, useless idiot and beat me for wasting food. Sure, I’m not the smartest, but I’m not dumb enough to like someone who hates me, you know?"

Qing broke into a cold sweat.

Shit. This conversation was taking a turn.

Was there anywhere in this entire cult that wasn’t completely fucked?

She awkwardly tried to console her.

"Uh… That must’ve been hard."

"Nah. Useless people deserve to get hit, right? So I just did the same thing back. She kept whining about being sick and didn’t do anything, so that made her useless. Every time I hit her, she’d cry and rant about some ‘sacred duty of a mother’ or whatever."

"…Mm."

"But hey, I paid back my debt, didn’t I? I took out a loan in my name to buy her medicine, so that whole ‘she gave birth to me’ thing is covered. She didn’t even raise me properly, so she can’t expect any thanks for that either!"

"Uh. Yeah. Sure. Great job."

"Hehe, right?"

A perfect example of an eye for an eye.

At least she had a sense of obligation.

She wasn’t completely rotten.

But she sure as hell wasn’t good either.

…Wait.

Hold on a second.

"Senior sister. If there’s anything you’re holding a grudge about, now’s the time to say it. Don’t keep it bottled up just to get revenge later, alright?"

"Huh? What are you talking about? I don’t have anything like that!"

"Really?"

"Of course! You’re the only person who’s ever been nice to me! You’re more of a mom than my actual mom! When I was little, I used to be jealous of kids who had moms who’d protect them when they got bullied, bring them nice things, and take care of them. But now I have a junior sister who does all that for me! Hehehe…"

…Huh.

Qing had assumed she was just a dumb crutch.

Turns out, she was a neglected daughter clinging to a reluctant parental figure.

And just like that, Qing’s discomfort skyrocketed.

This was exactly why you had to be careful.

One moment of carelessness, and suddenly, you were somebody’s savior.

Now her half-broken conscience was spinning out of control.

Qing was no longer the same person she had been.

No longer was she just some reckless delinquent, carelessly ignoring doctrine while forcing her teacher into an unpaid servant role—making her give massages, run errands, and, when feeling particularly generous, gracing her with a single note of Heavenly Heart Harmony.

No, she was now a rightful but entirely unorthodox inheritor of the Grand Purity Sutra—a sacred Buddhist teaching that she had received in the most underhanded way possible.

Which meant, of course, that it was time for some reflection.

She had been disrespecting authority this whole time. That wasn’t right.

Yes. She should be better than that.

Madam Kang had been so eager to teach her—so enthusiastic. Qing shouldn’t treat her poorly.

…

Wait.

Wasn’t this just child soldier training with extra steps?

Wasn’t Madam Kang just molding her into something useful for her own purposes?

Huh.

Turns out, Madam Kang was a complete and utter bitch.

Calling her "teacher" was an insult to every single teacher in existence.

Well. Roughly six billion or so, anyway.

She had no idea what the population of this world was, so she just picked a big number.

Yes.

Upon further reflection, she had done absolutely nothing wrong.

So Qing went right back to her usual ways.

She dug her finger into her nose, lazily wiggled her toe to make the servants clean the room, and then graciously played a single note on her flute.

Madam Kang, as expected, broke down in tears, overcome with emotion—and then fled the scene.

The Maid, So-yeong bowed politely, then followed after her with an expression of pure joy.

Madam Kang’s face had only been getting more and more twisted with each session.

So-yeong, on the other hand, had only grown brighter and brighter.

Then, dinner.

And after dinner…

The true trial awaited.

Dance practice with Crutch.

At first, Qing had felt deep existential despair at the idea of performing the Lustful Fairy Disrobing Dance.

But then—

Gyeon Pohee’s atrocious dancing awakened something in her.

It had a primal, infectious quality—the kind that made even the most reluctant viewer clutch their chest, rise to their feet, and join in simply out of sheer secondhand embarrassment.

It was the epitome of anti-seduction.

Rather than inspiring lust, it filled the audience with overwhelming pity, frustration, and despair.

And yet—Gyeon Pohee was having the time of her life.

She may have failed completely at seduction, but she had somehow managed to perfect its polar opposite.

Afterward, Qing turned in early.

And when she woke up—

She let out a deep, soul-crushing sigh at the weight of her murderous responsibilities.

…While grinning like a kid on the first day of summer vacation and skipping excitedly out the door.

Arriving at the yard, she effortlessly kicked the tripwire and pulled it back into place.

…Wait.

Didn’t he say he was getting rid of this thing?

Qing flopped down onto the small guest room floor.

But something felt…

Different.

As usual, Seol Ganom appeared, dripping water.

"You’re here."

Qing narrowed her eyes.

"Didn’t you say you were getting rid of the water bottle?"

"Upon further reflection, I realized that if things go south and it’s discovered that I helped you, I’d be assassinated in my sleep. And between being dead or a little damp, I’d rather be damp."

Qing scoffed.

"So, what, you don’t trust me?"

"A wise man always prepares for the worst. I can only ensure the future if I stay alive."

As expected, Seol Ganom had no real rebuttal.

So, as always, Qing changed the subject.

"Seriously, air this place out. It smells like a damn bachelor’s den. It wasn’t this bad last night."

At that, Seol Ganom’s expression brightened smugly as he lifted his chin.

Qing narrowed her eyes.

"What’s with that look? What does that even mean?"

"Well, this is a man’s house, so of course it smells like one. Or are you getting all hot and bothered just from a bit of male scent?"

"Would you please stop with the teasing now that you’re not a eunuch anymore?"

"I was never a eunuch to begin with. But you’re right—I was unbecoming of a man. I should conduct myself more properly. My apologies."

…Yeah.

Regaining his manhood had clearly meant a lot more to him than Qing had expected.

Honestly, she couldn’t blame him.

She wasn’t so heartless that she’d mock him for something like that.

Which was why she swallowed the remark that had crept up to the tip of her tongue as she stared at his ridiculously long eyelashes.

There was no need to rub salt in the wound.

Instead, she simply moved on.

"Anyway, just like you said—I left plenty of traces of Blood Shadow Thunderclap Blade Style, burned down the Peace Pavilion’s barracks and the records office, and let the prisoners loose."

"I heard the reports as well. But don’t get cocky. The Peace Pavilion is the weakest of all the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s battle divisions."

Seol Ganom was really out here talking like a villain boss introducing his Four Heavenly Generals.

"If you’re right about this, the cult isn’t going to take the loss of the Heavenly Demon Soul lightly. They’ll mobilize every single battle unit they have."

"And?"

"But the Peace Pavilion already burned. If you take out a few more battle units the same way, it’ll disrupt the power balance. The cult has been keeping order through sheer force, and if that force starts to collapse, internal chaos will follow. They’ll have no choice but to send a small, elite force to retrieve the Heavenly Demon Soul."

…Wait.

A small elite force?

Excuse me, Professor Seol, but that wasn’t in the original lesson plan.

Qing squinted at him.

"This ‘small elite force’—doesn’t that make things even more dangerous? If a bunch of Transcendent Realm masters show up, even the great Ximen Qing is gonna have a problem."

"Better a few elites than a massive elite army."

Qing blinked.

Huh.

That actually made sense.

Damn. The brain of one of the Central Plains' greatest schemers really was something else.

Of course! Seol Ganom never disappoints!

She grinned, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Alright, so—who are we killing today, and what are we burning down?"