Chapter 163

The World Is Vast (2)

No matter the faction, a successor was important.

No one lived forever. Eventually, everyone returned to nature’s embrace.

Because all people knew that fate awaited them, each strove to leave behind a legacy.

A successor was part of that legacy. A successor with strong legitimacy was important to any organization.

If they lacked legitimacy, they would constantly be challenged by their retainers or subordinates, and even inheriting the position itself would become difficult.

In that sense, Geumjang had originally been designated as the successor to the Blood Demon, Wi Hochang.

Not only had he been the first subordinate Wi Hochang had accepted, but he had also remained loyal.

Moreover, he possessed more than enough leadership ability to command others, so the remnants of the Blood Cult had intended to follow him without complaint.

At least, until the Heavenly Demon suddenly appeared and snapped Geumjang’s neck.

"What are we going to do now?"

An aged voice echoed through the room.

The people sat facing one another, relying on a single lamp for light.

When the old man occupying the seat of honor spoke, the only response he received was a heavy silence.

"Lord Geumjang was defeated by the Heavenly Demon. Who are we supposed to follow now?"

Despite the question that bordered on lamentation, no one said a word. They had no answer.

After all, the long-awaited resurrection of the Blood Cult was on the verge of collapsing before it could even begin.

They had only been able to gather here because of the post Geumjang had made on the Gallery.

It had been an ambitious declaration calling upon them to assemble at the sacred ground and proclaim the Blood Cult’s return.

Yet not long after the post went up, a video was uploaded showing him being toyed with by the Heavenly Demon.

"...Before deciding whom to follow, we should be worrying about whether the Blood Cult can even survive."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just as Elder Taejung said, we have no suitable successor. Worse still, we have lost the focal point that held us together."

The others groaned at the relatively young, middle-aged man’s words.

Nothing he said was wrong. At present, far from being resurrected, the Blood Cult was in danger of ceasing to exist altogether.

"Most importantly, we have almost no new initiates. We have practically run out of young people."

In fact, the Blood Cult currently had almost no new recruits at all.

No matter how well-known the Blood Demon was on the Gallery, he was only famous there as a meme.

In the past, most of those who had joined the Blood Cult had been captivated by Wi Hochang’s martial prowess.

But the Righteous-Blood War had taken place a full fifty years ago. It might have been different if only ten years had passed, but half a century had gone by.

Even those who had been in their twenties at the time were now gray-haired old men. Those who had already been fully grown adults back then were in an even worse state.

More than half of the elders had died in the Righteous-Blood War, and half of the survivors had subsequently died from lingering injuries or natural causes.

Even the cultists who were considered relatively young were at least in their fifties. That alone said everything.

"That... is a grave problem. Without fresh blood, the Blood Cult will naturally disappear. Do you know why no one is joining?"

"Hmph. Isn’t it because those green youngsters know nothing of the Blood Cult’s majesty?"

"Back in our day, the number of people who wanted to join was as vast as the sea...."

"This is all because of that damned Murim Alliance."

No, it’s because of you people.

The middle-aged man secretly curled his lips in mockery.

They were so intoxicated by their past glory that they could no longer see reality.

When the Blood Demon had still been around, everything had been fine as long as they followed him. But now he had ascended to immortality.

Moreover, the Murim Alliance, which had emerged victorious from the Righteous-Blood War, had exposed every sordid truth about the Blood Cult.

The Murim Alliance had plenty of skeletons in its own closet, but the victor always took everything, while the loser could do nothing but suffer.

The Blood Demon himself had massacred civilians, after all. In many respects, the Blood Cult was a vile organization that was bound to have difficulty winning anyone’s favor.

Despite this reality, they had failed to manage their image on the Gallery as well. All sorts of information about them had spread, and self-proclaimed Blood Cultists of dubious authenticity had even begun trolling the place, becoming synonymous with lunatics.

Now, whenever anyone so much as mentioned the Blood Cult, people would immediately mock them by saying that the cockroaches had arrived.

"Silence, everyone! You know complaining like this will accomplish nothing! Come up with a solution!"

"If we demonstrate our strength, just as the Blood Demon once did...."

"Even Elder Geumjang was toyed with by the Heavenly Demon. What could we accomplish? We would only make the Heavenly Demon look even more impressive."

Countless arguments were exchanged, but no suitable solution emerged.

After all, most of them had grown old and lost both their strength and vigor.

To borrow the Gallery’s terminology, they were fossils trapped in a bygone era.

"There is something more important than that, isn’t there?"

"What might that be?"

"Whom will we choose as the successor? Whatever else happens, we still need someone to lead us."

"...."

Let us choose a successor first.

Silence settled over the room at those words.

Everyone knew that they would never reach a consensus if they continued arguing like this.

Therefore, they should choose someone—anyone—as the successor and proceed according to that person’s will.

That was what he meant.

"Ahem. With even Elder Geumjang having fallen...."

"How about Elder Taejung taking the position?"

"I am already far too old. It will not be long before this frail body returns to the earth."

"Then whom would you nominate as the successor?"

"Since we are the Blood Cult, why not settle it according to the Blood Cult’s traditions?"

The Blood Cult’s traditional method was simple.

They would fight until only one side remained alive.

It had been a fairly reasonable method during the Blood Cult’s heyday, but that was no longer the case.

Their numbers were so few that every single member was precious.

"We should refrain from doing that. Fighting among ourselves would be problematic enough, but it would also severely undermine the successor’s legitimacy."

"No one possessed legitimacy comparable to Geumjang’s...."

Legitimacy within the Blood Cult was simple: it depended on how much instruction one had received from the Blood Demon, Wi Hochang.

Among them, Geumjang had even exchanged martial arts with the Blood Demon, making him the most suitable candidate.

Of course, that was all meaningless now.

In that case, the beings possessing the greatest legitimacy were....

"Come to think of it, were there not apes whom the Blood Demon personally instructed?"

"They were not monkeys but apes. Great apes, to be precise—gorillas."

"Surely you are not suggesting that we appoint those lowly beasts as successors?"

No matter how far the Blood Cult had fallen, they were still human.

It was only natural for them to recoil at the idea of appointing mere apes as successors.

Even the Blood Cultists half agreed that this was a matter that went beyond simple pride, but....

"Is there even one person here who inherited the Blood Demon’s martial arts?"

"I received a small amount of instruction...."

"But no one inherited them as completely as those great apes. Their martial arts may well be superior to ours, but they certainly will not be inferior."

"Even so, appointing apes...."

"We would merely be naming one of them as the successor. That does not mean we must worship it."

The old man’s point was this: appointing it as the successor and revering it were two separate matters.

They could exploit it for everything it was worth and then secretly kill it.

All they needed was to obtain its martial arts.

It could even speak, so learning from it should not be particularly difficult.

"Indeed...."

"It is not a bad option."

"At the end of the day, it is still only an ape."

Through this dubious attempt at persuasion, they began leaning toward appointing an ape—a gorilla—as the successor.

After all, no matter how intelligent a gorilla might be, could it truly be smarter than a human?

"Obviously, we should appoint the leader of the gorillas as the successor! He is the strongest among them."

"Ridiculous! Have you not heard? That gorilla banished his own brother, the white gorilla! The Blood Demon himself was once cast out merely because his appearance was different. We can never accept such a creature!"

"Where did you hear that? I have never heard anything of the sort."

"There was a post about it on the Gallery."

"And you believe that?"

By now, even the Blood Cult itself lacked reliable information about the Blood Demon.

And thus began a battle of idiots.

Should they choose the leader gorilla or Kkobong?

Martial strength or legitimacy(?)?

It should have been an utterly trivial debate, but somehow....

What kind of idiotic circus is this?

In the middle-aged man’s eyes, there had never been a farce quite like this one.

It had been obscured by the Blood Demon’s achievements, but the truth was that the Blood Cult itself had always been a somewhat deficient organization.

There had once been intelligent members among them, but they had all disappeared during the Righteous-Blood War.

Not a single person who could be called the organization’s "brain" remained.

More precisely, no one remained who could comprehend reality.

Then where had all the intelligent people gone?

They had joined either the Murim Alliance or the Demon Cult.

The only question was whether they chose to conform to the established system or resented it.

Either way, no sane person would willingly join the Blood Cult.

What do they think the Forest of Four Seasons is?

The middle-aged man had many things he wanted to say, but there were so many that he could not bring himself to say any of them.

He could not even tell where things had first gone wrong.

Fine. Let them appoint a gorilla as their successor. But how did they plan to bring it here?

Were they seriously planning to enter the Forest of Four Seasons, an inescapable hell and purgatory, themselves?

Thanks to Grylls’s recent activities, a great deal of information about the Forest of Four Seasons had become known, but it was still only the tip of the iceberg.

No one knew what dangers lurked inside it or, more importantly, whether it was even possible to escape.

"Before that... there is something we must consider."

"Ah, yes. What is your opinion?"

"That is not what I meant. The gorillas are in the Forest of Four Seasons.... Even if we manage to find them, will we be able to get back out?"

"It would be difficult alone."

It would be difficult alone.

In other words....

"Why do we not all enter the Forest of Four Seasons together?"

"Together...?"

"Yes. The greater our numbers, the stronger our Blood Cult becomes. Surely the same will hold true within the Forest of Four Seasons."

"Furthermore, is there not already a survivor inside? We can simply receive his assistance."

They had no plan whatsoever.

The middle-aged man instinctively realized that entering the forest with these reckless fools would be no different from suicide.

Why don’t you just suggest that we all hold hands and march to our deaths?

Did they not know of the Forest of Four Seasons’ dreadful reputation, or did they think this would be some noble expedition?

They said the world was wide and full of lunatics, but this went far beyond even that.

Wait. Isn’t the Blood Cult itself a den of lunatics?

And he had willingly entered that den.

The middle-aged man’s mouth fell slightly open.

He looked as though he had been struck by an overwhelming wave of existential despair, his pale soul practically drifting out of his body.

The old man mistook his reaction for admiration and smiled with satisfaction as he addressed the other cultists.

"Then it seems we have narrowed our opinions down to one. However, the Forest of Four Seasons is known as a forbidden realm beyond human reach. We must prepare thoroughly."

"Agreed. We should gather as many cultists as possible before departing."

"I dislike the thought of accepting an ape as our successor... but I suppose there is no other choice."

"Then what shall we do when we meet the survivor?"

"He has enslaved our successor. Naturally, he must face divine punishment."

Had their minds grown rigid with age?

Did they genuinely believe they could return alive from the Forest of Four Seasons?

Or were they simply empty-headed morons incapable of thought?

"And what will you do?"

"Ah... I believe I must return to my hometown for a while."

"Has something happened?"

"I heard that someone there wishes to join the cult."

"Oh. That is welcome news. Very well."

On the day the Blood Cult began preparing to journey into the Forest of Four Seasons...

The middle-aged man fled from the Blood Cult.

└ Why do those people look so sinister? They’ve got some seriously vicious faces.

└ Now you understand how hard my life has been, right?

Title: It Was Awful While It Lasted

(A photograph of old men chatting and laughing heartily)

Let’s never meet again, you fucking fossils.

└ Who are they? Your bosses?

└ Yeah, technically, but every last one of them was an unbearable old fart. I quit.

└ Sounds like you had it rough. People from the Central Plains are especially full of old-fashioned geezers.

└ So what are you going to do now?

└ I’m heading back to my hometown to farm. I used to be pretty strong, so it shouldn’t be difficult.

Apparently, someone had quit their job today. That was what I discovered while browsing the Gallery.

There were occasional comments about the Blood Cult entering the Forest of Four Seasons, but I ignored those.

"All right. Repeat after me. Park."

"Park."

"Jong."

"Jong."

"Hyuk."

"Hyuk."

"And when you put them together?"

"Moron."

"You little shit! Where the hell did you learn that word?"

"Park Jonghyuk."

"You damn...."

What would it take to make this bastard gorilla listen to me?

They said the world was wide and full of lunatics, but I never imagined I would end up being verbally toyed with by a gorilla.

This bastard must be smart if he knows how to mess with me like this, right?

If the Blood Cult saw this, wouldn’t they cause an uproar and insist on honoring him as their successor?

Nah. That’s impossible.

Anyone who did that would be beyond insane.

They would be dumber than the gorilla.