Chapter 427

The Blood Sect has a legacy of nurturing all kinds of monsters.

Jiangshi, Blood Ghouls, Blood Solitudes, Blood Demons, and so on.

In reality, if you look at the end products, they all share similar characteristics, just a bunch of average-looking creatures that are fundamentally different species based on how they were made.

Why do they go through all this trouble creating so many similar things? If you were to question why they put so much effort into monster creation, wondering if they just eat and study monsters, the answer would be simple.

Yes, it’s true.

Monsters are strong, easy to produce, and can deliver unmatched grief to their original connections.

Moreover, with all kinds of prohibitions or even the ability to completely lose one’s senses, their security is ironclad.

Nothing is as effective and discreet for the pestilent Blood Sect’s scoundrels, who just want the world to crumble.

Thus, the history of the Blood Sect is essentially the history of monsters.

Among them, Blood Ghouls are just a shorthand for Blood Ghouls, monsters that are endlessly gluttonous and crave human hearts, blood, entrails, flesh, and more.

Of course, creatures driven solely by greed cannot be controlled.

Thus, they must undergo thorough spiritual suppression through repetitive practices, so they can transform into loyal hounds eagerly awaiting their master’s command to ‘eat.’

People imagine the moment a monster is completed will be something grand.

Blood splattering everywhere, organs overflowing, ominously rising blood mists, and the jingling sound of sinister bells.

Amidst this, a wicked sorcerer goes wild, eyes rolling back, howling like a madman, then suddenly bursts out laughing, “Arise, my children!”

Then the monsters lying down would all suddenly lift their eyelids, revealing their grotesque, beast-like eyes in an unearthly manner…

But the actual birth of evil isn’t that extravagant.

“Yuck, what’s this? Is it spoiled?”

One of the youngest of the Salwold Sect spits out what’s in his mouth in a hurry.

“Hey, cut it out. Complaining about food, yuck. Chew.”

“See? It’s spoiled, right?”

“What’s with this? It’s salty, bitter, and sour.”

“Which bastard drank all the water?”

“I want some alcohol.”

“Me too.”

“Isn’t there anyone with alcohol? Why is there no alcohol on our table?”

“It’s all spoiled. Oh, this is, yep, definitely spoiled. Mmm, really spoiled.”

“Look at that guy, he keeps eating.”

“Wow, what’s this? Tastes amazing! This guy wants to eat this all by himself.”

“What? Raw liver? Ugh, I can’t eat anything fishy. But why does it look so appetizing? Hey, just a small piece for me. Oh.”

The youngest ones are more like young men in their early twenties, still quite youthful.

However, they’re actually on the older side for newcomers in their clan.

Naturally, as kids of this age tend to be, the dining hall is bustling and noisy.

“I’m hungry, I’m thirsty.”

“So am I. I feel like I’m going to die.”

“I wish I could just have a drink. Aren’t we getting any alcohol?”

“Is that even a question? All the seniors are spread across the clan right now.”

“Didn’t think the older brother would pass away. If I had known this was coming, I’d have just gone to Jin Gajang.”

“Hah, who would expect this?”

“Cut out the nonsense. How long would it take to become a master if we go to Jin Gajang? Ten years? Twenty years? Tai Chi? Hah, what Tai Chi? My mom is a Tai Chi master, you know?”

“Still, Jin Gajang wouldn’t go under even after ten or twenty years, right? Are we going to end up like this?”

“Back then, no one thought Jin Gajang would collapse.”

As they say, the mouth is the root of all evil; daytime words are heard by birds, nighttime words by mice, and the words of the Mo Yong family are overheard by the old man Mo Yongjun while the youngest boys of the Salwold Sect are overheard by passing seniors.

“Hey, you punks! Is there a celebration going on? What kind of party is happening!? Get your heads down!”

“Ugh, Brother Kalchi.”

“Hey, get your heads down. Jo Sam, you get out here!”

“Yes, yes.”

“It’s you, huh? That bastard Daesahyeong, it’s not even enough to keep the kids’ mouths shut, huh? My patience is running thin. What? Ruined?”

Passing senior Kalchi smacks Jo Sam’s cheek repeatedly while staggering.

If someone were to ask if that’s too harsh, well, it’s only natural considering the younger sect’s squawking about the ruin and disgrace of the clan.

Not to mention, the youngest disciples of the Salwold Sect were often dealt with a bit harshly.

Because they grew up guzzling elixirs, it was likely they’d end up getting eaten afterward, so it was essential to instill some discipline from now on.

Usually, you’d get eaten for such behavior.

In truth, the trait of Sapa folks is that if they have an excuse, they’ll want to bully someone, wanting to suppress others under their superiority, so matters like these are of little concern to them.

Jo Sam feels very unhappy while being slapped on the cheek, which is to be expected when he’s getting his cheeks slapped repeatedly.

However, that’s not the only reason.

They hadn’t slept a wink last night due to thirst and hunger.

Yet here are the seniors, waving their arms around and stirring up a delicious aroma while enjoying a feast, making a ruckus.

Is it fair for the youngest’s table to be piled with spoiled food while the seniors are acting out like this?

People shouldn’t be sad about food.

But saying that is rather simplistic since one’s food preferences are shaped by childhood memories or traumas, making it hard to overcome.

Eating is that significant of a matter.

So, when Jo Sam swings his fist, perhaps it was just a matter of time before one of the jabbering seniors faced consequences.

Yet, from Kalchi’s standpoint, getting turned on by the youngest means other kids were much worse yet why does it have to be my bad luck? There’s no reason to get upset.

Still, he shouldn’t complain about the fact that Jo Sam was tightly gripping his chopsticks.

When it comes to eating, no one should interfere—pestering the youngest while eating means he deserves to be stabbed with chopsticks.

“Ugh, Brother! I’m sorry—”

“Gah! You—!”

“It’s not what you think!”

Kalchi is clutching his shoulder and slumping down.

Just two chopsticks poked into the shoulder feel like heated skewers of agony.

While Kalchi is in a daze from the pain, just trying to catch his breath…

He suddenly feels a grave sense of discomfort.

What’s up with these jerks? Why is it so quiet?

Kalchi slowly raises his head.

Suddenly, he sees all the youngest disciples gazing at him, tightly sealing their mouths.

There’s a loud gulp, the sound of everyone collectively swallowing their saliva.

It’s a small sound, but when everyone swallows at once, it becomes amplified by the mood.

“Y-you guys! Did I tell you to bury your heads…?”

Before starving Blood Ghouls, human blood spills.

As soon as the putrid scent hits their nostrils, the youngest disciples of the Salwold Sect instinctively realize how to quench their horrid thirst and hunger.

And isn’t the virtue of a Sapa to eat the ones above them to grow stronger?

All the teachings they’ve seen and heard finally bear fruit.

“Brother. I’m sorry, but could I have just one bite? Just one, please.”

“What? Agh!”

Kalchi screams.

Suddenly, Jo Sam rushes in and takes a hearty bite out of his arm.

Kalchi desperately struggles and swats him away.

Jo Sam tumbles to the ground.

But already, blood starts gushing from the heartthump-thump-thumping puncture left on his arm.

“Y-you! You madman—”

Kalchi’s words get cut off.

Because the younger ones were all swarming in at once.

—-

Dashing here and there, calling out “mother” with all his heart, El Hwi-young, who doesn’t qualify to be a ‘Hong’, is a local phantom.

“Hmm, what’s this? Where did you find this? You keep spilling that warm maternal love like it’s nothing, and these half-baked things keep sticking around you. You’re too soft-hearted to throw them away. But can’t you get rid of this kind of mess?”

“Who are you even talking about when saying someone spills their nurturing side? It doesn’t seem like me, right?”

But El Hwi-young only gazes at Qing.

Beside her, Gyeon Pohee nods profusely, expressing passionate agreement.

Qing furrows her brow, wondering.

What? Where does someone as cold-hearted and indifferent as me exist?

“The Cheonhwa-geom? Who’s this rude person?”

Suddenly referred to as “this”, Lang-lang expresses her discontent in a blank and emotionless manner.

Qing takes a moment to choose her words for an introduction.

“Oh, this is, um, my adopted son.”

“Oh. How marvelous. Lang-lang is astonished. The Cheonhwa-geom has grown up to be such a delinquent and mischievous child.”

“But he’s a good son too. Right, mother?”

“Um, about that, there may be several perspectives, but from the current state, perhaps that’s a general sentiment?”

El Hwi-young’s nose rises towards the sky.

Clap, clap, clap—Little Cute Young Lady is clapping her hands but has no idea what she’s celebrating.

By the way, is the righteous deed increasing once again?

What has he been doing around?

Surely, that reckless girl wouldn’t shout “Mother!” while carrying a grandchild.

Well, as long as they’re happy, who cares?

Then it’s actually a good thing.

Shouldn’t she ideally get married off forever?

“The family story of the Cheonhwa-geom is very interesting, but aside from that, you’re an extremely disrespectful person to Lang-lang.”

“Your worth to me is simply being beside my mother. If you want to charm me, I won’t stop you, but otherwise…”

El Hwi-young’s gaze sharpens.

Lang-lang also seems determined not to yield, clenching her fists and striking a martial arts stance.

“Are you challenging me, you rude human? Would you like to taste the power of Lang-lang’s stone fist? I wish to settle it through conversation like a cultured person.”

Lang-lang notices the manifested sword qi and sword form and thus put her tail between her legs.

“Conversation? What kind of conversation?”

“If you’re an esteemed guest of Hyun-gyeong, you certainly have enough rudeness. Lang-lang is willing to accept the roguish behavior of the Cheonhwa-geom’s adopted son. That’s all.”

“Sure, that’s how it should be.”

El Hwi-young smiles dangerously.

Qing nods while watching this scene.

Indeed, the realm is supreme.

I also wish to flashily shine with my little sword of the Cheonhwa-geom.

“Well, I’m a little concerned about keeping you next to mother. But I don’t think it would be harmful. Anyway. Mother, I saw something interesting.”

“Something interesting? A cooking contest? Or a grand opening? Are they giving out discount coupons? Where? When it first opens, food is usually the best!”

“No, not dining.”

“What is it then? In Gwangju, there’s nothing interesting aside from food?”

“Lang-lang agrees. The joy of life is dining, and the greatest joy is lying down doing nothing whilst dining.”

Originally, the Guangdong region is famous for being boring unless it revolves around food.

“Hmm. Now I somewhat understand why you go around hugging this mess. Speaking of, I noticed some strange folks. Maybe Blood Ghouls or Blood Demons? Jiangshi? No, upon closer inspection, it might not be Jiangshi. Either way, they were of poor quality.”

“Blood Ghouls? Blood Demons?”

Upon seeing Qing’s expression, El Hwi-young added a brief explanation.

“Oh. You’re soft-hearted and not very bright, mother. They’re the beasts of the Blood Sect that generally just feast on people.”

“Eh? Blood Sect?”

“If the Gold Robbery Guild had such things, wouldn’t there be others? The Gwangju Seonbang was taken care of by you, so it must’ve been wiped out together. Perhaps those little bastards from the Salwold Sect are hiding something.”

“Hmm. Blood Sect.”

Referring to the Blood Sect, an organization that elicits shivers down the spine of every Sema.

Qing had already encountered such pure scum in Gaebong, and they weren’t just scum but also possessed peculiar sexual deviancy.

Speaking of which, I had forgotten about the wine bottle.

Now’s a great time to do some work.

As the hot and thick poison spreads, Qing suppresses her satisfaction and immediately makes her decision.

“Do we have any evidence? I need to report this to Jin Gaju.”

“They say this is the elixir they’re consuming. The Sapa folks supposedly sent it over; it certainly seems related to the Blood Sect.”

El Hwi-young places an elixir pill gently onto Qing’s palm.

The color is bright red, and the smell is disgusting, indicating it’s definitely not a normal item.

“Hmm. I should report to Jin Gaju first—”

Just then.

– All personnel, prepare for battle! This is an actual situation! Assemble and report personnel within eone!

– Prepare for battle! Actual situation!

– Prepare for battle! Actual situation!

Outside, urgent voices rose, calling out an alarm.

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