Murim Login - Chapter 577

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 577
Choi Min-woo’s face had hardened into stone. His eyes, fixed upon Song Cheon-woo, trembled with a fine, barely perceptible quiver.
“What… are you saying?”
“I understand your disbelief, but this is undeniable truth.”
Song Cheon-woo continued, his words falling like a weary sigh.
“It happened suddenly one day. No one could have anticipated it.”
“…!”
Choi Min-woo’s hands clenched into fists without his conscious awareness.
Though he had never truly trusted Song Cheon-woo, the elderly man before him now bore not a trace of deception in his gaze.
‘Then… is it truly so?’
In that instant, Choi Min-woo’s heart plummeted. A bead of cold sweat, formed without warning, traced a path down the nape of his neck.
His voice emerged with difficulty from between his tightly sealed lips.
“Yet I have never heard such a fact from anyone. Not even from Kim Butler, who served as my Maternal Grandfather’s closest aide….”
Before Choi Min-woo could finish, Song Cheon-woo shook his head.
“It was not that he chose not to tell you—he could not.”
“Which means….”
“I am sorry.”
Could not tell versus chose not to tell.
A difference of merely one character, yet the gulf between them was vast. Grasping the meaning woven into those words, Choi Min-woo fixed Song Cheon-woo with a piercing stare.
“You concealed it even from Kim Butler. A truth of such magnitude.”
The septuagenarian nodded quietly. His voice, grown noticeably older, emerged between his lips.
“Hwa-jong. That man was always loyal. And his devotion passed wholly to a life born after the war’s end—a child who lost his parents to sudden tragedy at a tender age, left alone in this world.”
“…!”
“Even on that day when everything changed, That Person’s most faithful retainer stood at your side.”
Choi Min-woo turned his head without thinking.
A solitary figure standing vigil in the distant Snowy Field entered his field of vision.
Had Song Cheon-woo’s voice not been swallowed by the ferocious blizzard bearing down upon them, I would have rushed forth like the wind itself and struck down the traitor—such was the loyalty of that devoted servant.
“Is this why you asked to walk alone together?”
“It could not be helped. Had he been listening, our conversation would have been impossible.”
“If Kim Butler had learned of news concerning your Maternal Grandfather at that time, you would already have….”
The composure and clarity that had always defined him were nowhere to be found.
Confronted by the cold, azure flames dancing in Choi Min-woo’s eyes, Song Cheon-woo could not bear to meet his gaze and turned away.
“At first, I was simply bewildered. I thought he would regain consciousness shortly, so I kept it strictly confidential.”
Sigh.
With each faltering step, his aged voice continued.
“But as a month passed, then half a year, and finally a year, a strange thought began to take hold. Perhaps… he would never awaken at all.”
Song Cheon-woo and Lee Jung-yong.
What had begun as mere doubt in both their hearts gradually solidified into certainty as time elapsed, and that conviction transformed into something else entirely.
“After another year had passed, we could finally acknowledge the greed that dwelt within us both.”
The desire to claim the vacant throne left by Cheon Tae-min, that absolute being whom none dared approach—the ambition to become master of the vast fortress known as the Ares Guild.
“The purge began one day in secret. Unlike Kim Hwa-jong, who had already distanced himself from the Ares Guild, a handful of That Person’s closest confidants met their end at the Gates.”
Choi Min-woo bit down hard on his lips.
From ancient times to the modern era, death remains the most certain method of silencing truth.
Lee Jung-yong and Song Cheon-woo had chosen the same path—to usurp the throne of a king still drawing breath.
A sickening crack.
Smooth lips, unmarred by a single imperfection, split open, and crimson blood traced a path down his chin.
Choi Min-woo’s wrathful footsteps scattered droplets of blood across the pristine snow.
“Yet you, Director Song, managed to survive. Truly, you possess a tenacious grip on life.”
Song Cheon-woo answered Choi Min-woo’s caustic tone with a hollow voice.
“From Lee Jung-yong’s perspective, eliminating me wasn’t easy either. Moreover, in the struggle with the Ares Guild between us, we had amicably buried secrets together, so he likely judged the risk of exposure to be minimal. And he was right.”
Knowing the truth becomes reason enough to die, but wallowing together in the same mud becomes reason enough to live.
And in Choi Min-woo’s eyes, Song Cheon-woo was not a vessel worthy of standing against Lee Jung-yong until the very end.
“Was the price of that negotiation the position of Director of European Operations?”
“Yes. Thanks to that, my family and I were able to save our lives.”
Choi Min-woo drew a deep breath. At last, the puzzle pieces that had resisted assembly in his mind clicked perfectly into place.
Why Lee Jung-yong, so cold and meticulous, had deliberately allowed Song Cheon-woo to live.
And why his only blood relative, who had become the symbol of the world, had remained hidden for more than two decades.
– Kuwooooooo!
The roar of a Yeti echoing from somewhere seemed to speak for Choi Min-woo’s heart.
‘Damn it all.’
A grinding sound.
The bones in his clenched fist crackled under the force of his grip.
He wanted to scream right then. To demand why. To ask what purpose could possibly justify such actions.
He wanted to roar with all his might, seize that old man by the collar, draw the sword at his waist, and drive it into the back of the figure walking ahead.
But….
A soft scrape, then a dull thud.
The hand that had moved toward the sword hilt fell away powerlessly, its purpose unfulfilled.
Not yet. The reckoning for Song Cheon-woo’s sins would have to come only after all the facts were confirmed.
Choi Min-woo, forcing his racing heart to settle, spoke with a trembling voice.
“What was the reason my Maternal Grandfather collapsed?”
Crunch. With the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow, Song Cheon-woo’s pace suddenly halted.
Before him stretched nothing but empty void.
A Crevasse. The fissure that appeared in snow mountains and glacial regions was immense, and its depths, utterly unfathomable, were dark as an abyss.
“The reason. The reason, you say….”
Song Cheon-woo, staring into the darkness that yawned before his feet, muttered low.
“I don’t know.”
“Be certain. Is it that you don’t know, or that you wish to pretend not to know?”
“Do you truly believe that I or Lee Jung-yong orchestrated something against him—of all people?”
“That is….”
Choi Min-woo fell silent. He had suddenly recalled what manner of man his Maternal Grandfather was.
Cheon Tae-min. An immortal hero born of humanity. The first and last Hunter to fell the countless monsters that descended upon Earth and their sovereign, Demon King Asmodeus.
The surviving humans bestowed upon their savior the epithet “Slayer”—a title that also served as a tribute to a strength no Hunter could ever approach.
“I revered him, and I feared him. Lee Jung-yong felt the same way. Had it been otherwise, we would never have spent years waiting for him to awaken.”
Indeed, even after Cheon Tae-min—the object of their reverence and dread—had fallen, Song Cheon-woo and Lee Jung-yong could not act rashly.
It took two years, countless experiments to ascertain his condition, and a conviction tinged with subtle unease before they dared reveal their ambitions.
“Then what on earth…?”
At the bewildered voice from behind, Song Cheon-woo shook his head.
“No one could possibly guess the reason. But one thing is certain: he still lives.”
The answer to the question Choi Min-woo had been about to ask flowed from Song Cheon-woo’s lips. Having composed himself, Min-woo asked.
“What grounds do you have for thinking so?”
“If he were dead, Lee Jung-yong would have had no reason to keep me alive all this time.”
“…!”
“However, I cannot say with certainty where he is being kept. For now, Area A is merely a suspicion.”
“Area A…?”
Min-woo, who had been muttering softly, suddenly lifted his gaze.
His eyes fell upon Song Cheon-woo’s back as he stood before the crevasse, gazing endlessly down into the vast chasm.
“There are a few more things I wish to ask.”
“Ask whatever you wish.”
Min-woo, who had been silently observing his silhouette, suddenly spoke.
“I’m curious about your reason.”
“…My reason?”
“Yes. Why reveal everything now? Why share such vital information with someone who, though currently an ally, will soon become a rival? That is what I wish to understand.”
The enemy of my enemy is my ally. Such was the relationship between Min-woo and Song Cheon-woo.
They had merely joined hands temporarily to bring down Seok Go-jun and claim the Ares Guild for themselves. Nothing more, nothing less.
Precisely because of this, Min-woo found Song Cheon-woo’s demeanor all the more incomprehensible.
‘He has changed.’
Their last clandestine meeting had been merely a week ago.
Even then, Song Cheon-woo’s manner had been cautious, his words and actions tinged with faint wariness.
Like one who had once stood as a political rival to Lee Jung-yong, he had understood that this temporary alliance would shatter the moment they achieved their objective.
‘But why?’
Information concerning Cheon Tae-min’s whereabouts was classified beyond measure—a weapon of immense importance that could even be used to drive Min-woo back, should future conflict arise.
This was not something one could reveal in a moment of emotional weakness.
Ssshhk.
The moment Min-woo’s fingertips touched the sword hilt, Song Cheon-woo’s figure, which had been silently gazing into the distant void, slowly turned.
“The reason.”
The old man’s voice was calm and composed.
Gone was the hesitation and faint tremor that had marked his speech when they first met at the Gate Entrance.
The moment Min-woo felt the old man’s gaze shift toward his hand, a quiet voice continued.
“Let us call it atonement.”
Min-woo tightened his grip on the sword and asked.
“Atonement for what?”
“It’s late, but I’ve always wanted to tell you. About the wrongs I committed against that person, and against you.”
“More than twenty years too late.”
“Yes, it’s late. But I had no choice.”
“That’s just an excuse.”
Choi Min-woo’s resolute answer had barely left his lips.
Rummmmmble!
The Snow Mountain, buried entirely beneath pristine white snow, trembled violently. An avalanche was erupting from beyond a crevasse spanning dozens of meters across.
Even now, atop the turbulent waves of snow churning relentlessly, there were giants covered in fur.
—Kuooooarrgh!
—Kauwww!
Savage roars shook the Snow Mountain.
Faced with the charge of hundreds of yetis, Choi Min-woo muttered softly.
“That’s strange.”
“What is?”
“Yetis normally gather in groups of around ten or so.”
“Yes, they used to.”
Scrape. Whisper.
Song Cheon-woo’s footsteps advanced forward with his back to the crevasse, and the blade at Choi Min-woo’s waist was drawn free.
It was a sword left behind by a hero who had fulfilled his duty even in death.
“A fine blade.”
Song Cheon-woo, voice low and menacing, took another step forward.
From over Choi Min-woo’s shoulder, someone was already being launched into the air.
“Young Master!”
Hearing the elderly retainer’s cry, Song Cheon-woo murmured.
“Forgive me. I had no choice.”
And in the next instant.
Kwaaaaaang!
A deafening roar accompanied a blizzard that swept across the mountain.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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