My Father Is the Number One Under Heaven - Chapter 64

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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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Episode 64. Is there a hidden truth?
“Well, if the leader says so, then so be it.”
Everyone quickly agreed with Yeo Unhwi’s judgment.
Under different circumstances, they might have found Yeo Unhwi’s decision somewhat excessive, but this time was different.
After witnessing the sickening spectacle of members vying with one another to serve as spies within the Demonic Cult, all that remained was the thought that they deserved their deaths.
Even Peng Sejin did not immediately show his reaction, though he was genuinely shocked.
The mere appearance of Demonic Cult members in this region was startling enough, but the fact that these promising young talents of the Orthodox Faction — carefully cultivated by the Murim Alliance — accepted their proposal without a moment’s hesitation was beyond belief.
More absurd still was watching them quarrel over who would volunteer first.
From the moment they revealed their true nature, they ceased to be promising young talents of the Orthodox Faction and became nothing more than traitors who deserved death.
Though Peng Sejin was not naturally inclined toward unnecessary bloodshed, he believed that severing the Sarin Group’s heads was the right course of action.
What more could one expect from people who had fallen so thoroughly, exposing their true nature?
It was far better to end them decisively than to spare them awkwardly, only to face endless debate later.
Of course, an investigation from the Alliance would inevitably follow, but that was not a significant concern.
The Sarin Group had cut down the Demonic Cult members with their own blades, and the Demonic Cult had done the same to the Sarin Group.
He had used no distinctive martial techniques to ensure no evidence remained.
Yet before anyone in that place could nod in agreement with all of this, a powerful question took root in their minds.
‘How could he have known?’
How had Yeo Unhwi known that the Demonic Cult Black Slaughter Squad would appear before the Sarin Group just as they rushed out from the Peng residence?
And moreover, that these members would fall for the Demonic Cult’s temptation?
‘How was that even possible?’
It was as if Yeo Unhwi could see into the future.
But Peng Sejin quickly shook his head slightly.
‘That’s impossible.’
Such a thing transcended the realm of martial arts.
If it were possible, then Yeo Unhwi would have to be an Immortal.
Though even Immortals might not be capable of such a feat.
Even granting the possibility, Yeo Unhwi hardly seemed like an Immortal.
He had never encountered an actual Immortal, but he was certain they could not be as terrifying as Yeo Unhwi.
When Yeo Unhwi slaughtered the Demonic Cult Black Slaughter Squad and executed the Sarin Group, Peng Sejin had been profoundly astonished.
It was not merely because of the overwhelming martial power Yeo Unhwi possessed.
It was that the manner in which he killed them seemed almost entirely natural.
As if he had performed that act thousands of times before, as if he had walked that single path for countless years.
Watching it had sent chills racing across his entire body, his hair standing on end.
‘What kind of past does he carry?’
The more Peng Sejin learned, the more his curiosity about Yeo Unhwi deepened.
Martial power that belied his years, a coldness toward villains that brooked no hesitation.
And the ability to foresee events with such precision.
Everything Yeo Unhwi had displayed seemed utterly incomprehensible to Peng Sejin, who had lived his entire life as heir to the Hebei Peng Clan.
Yet he had no intention of prying.
He decided to wait, trusting that one day Yeo Unhwi would tell him.
And truly, even if that moment never came, it was acceptable.
Peng Sejin trusted Yeo Unhwi genuinely.
If he could not trust the man who had saved his life alone from that predicament, then whom could he trust?
Hmm.
Peng Sejin slowly lifted his gaze toward the sky.
The sun was setting.
That long and grueling day was finally coming to an end.
***
Several days later, news spreading from Hebei shook the entire martial world.
“Did you hear about it?”
In a bustling tavern, a man suddenly broached the subject.
“Hear about what?”
“Word is, in Hebei, the Sarin Group clashed with the Demonic Cult Black Slaughter Squad and met with mutual destruction.”
“What? The Sarin Group — isn’t that the one the Murim Alliance just began cultivating recently?”
“That’s the one!”
“Huh. So young, and of all things to encounter the Black Slaughter Squad. But how did the Black Slaughter Squad even end up in Hebei?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. The rumors say the Demonic Cult sent them specifically to target the Sarin Group — something about their seniors having racked up quite a few victories against the cult.”
“Ah! So they were trying to nip the threat in the bud?”
“That must be it!”
“Remarkable. To think they fought the Demonic Cult Black Slaughter Squad to such an end at that age — truly impressive, truly impressive!”
Meanwhile, nearby a group of men who had been dining quietly wore expressions of remarkable complexity as the others conducted their spirited conversation.
***
“What?”
In a certain room where a massive black dragon was carved into the wall.
An old man with snow-white hair was sketching something with a brush.
Despite his diminutive frame and advanced years, even in stillness he radiated a savage, overwhelming aura that seeped from every pore of his being.
He had just halted his brush mid-stroke upon receiving his subordinate’s report and turned to face him.
The perverse-looking elder fixed his subordinate with a chilling, cold stare.
“A Mutual Destruction?”
“Yes. That is correct.”
The subordinate steadied his trembling mind as best he could before answering.
This man before him was the sort who would kill underlings like himself without a second thought if they displeased him.
That alone was reason enough to be afraid, regardless of whether the fault lay with him or not.
“So what you’re telling me is that our Black Slaughter Squad — one of the Demonic Cult’s most elite forces — was completely annihilated by nothing more than a bunch of brats, is that right? Hmm? Am I understanding this correctly?”
“Yes, sir. That is… correct.”
“Do you truly believe that makes any sense?”
The subordinate fell silent.
He himself found it utterly senseless.
Especially the Black Slaughter Squad.
Their reputation had not been built from nothing.
The squad had flawlessly completed countless seemingly impossible missions until now.
Moreover, this mission was among the easiest they had ever undertaken in comparison.
Therefore, no one in the Demonic Cult had doubted the squad would succeed.
Yet somehow…
The old man released a hollow, incredulous laugh.
All who heard this news would surely react as he did.
Hmm.
This was a task commanded by the Cult Master himself.
Certainly, they had succeeded in eliminating the entire Sarin Group as ordered, but apart from that, the loss of the entire Black Slaughter Squad was something the old man found utterly unacceptable.
It was failure, nothing short of failure — not even a half-success.
A Mutual Destruction, no less.
To lose the entire Black Slaughter Squad in such a trivial mission made no financial sense whatsoever.
Moreover, the Black Slaughter Squad’s fearsome reputation was well-known even throughout the Central Plains Martial World.
For such a squad to be completely wiped out by mere children was an embarrassment beyond measure for the Demonic Cult.
The more he considered it, the more rage boiled up within him.
“This is infuriating.”
“Sir?”
Splat.
In that instant, the head of the man reporting to him burst like a watermelon.
That was his final word.
The man who had brought the report bore no fault whatsoever, yet he was slain simply because the content of his report displeased the elder.
Perhaps the unease the man had felt all along was a premonition of this very fate.
“Tsk.”
Having killed one subordinate, the old man gazed silently at the blood pooling on the floor, then furrowed his brow once more and clicked his tongue.
His irritation had not subsided in the slightest.
“…Something must have happened in the interim.”
The old man murmured to himself as he stood in thought.
“Yes. I’m curious who exactly orchestrated this.”
His eyes began to glimmer with murderous intent.
***
At that same moment.
The Murim Alliance — which could justly be called the representative of the Orthodox Faction throughout all the martial world — was now shrouded in a deeply somber atmosphere.
The Alliance Master’s quarters were filled with sighs.
“How… how could such a thing come to pass?”
Song Ildo, the Master of the Murim Alliance and known as the Meteor Sword Emperor, spoke in a voice heavy with sorrow.
It was not a question that expected an answer.
It was a lament, tinged with despair.
The elders of the Murim Alliance understood this well, and none of them spoke a word.
They too simply exhaled long, heavy sighs, their faces darkened with gloom.
Small wonder the atmosphere was so heavy, for the Sarin Group had been like beloved children, carefully chosen and nurtured by the Alliance with the devoted attention of the elder generation itself.
Losing them was no different from losing one’s own children—a pain that struck the chieftain and the elders alike.
Yet they never knew.
To their eyes, these disciples were merely lovely students; they had no idea how much like demons these same people became in other places, to those without power.
Had they known the truth, they would not have grieved or lamented it.
Or perhaps, even if they had known, they would have refused to acknowledge it until the very end.
For it was they themselves who had raised these disciples into such Human Face Beast Hearts.
And so, even as the chieftain’s hall brimmed with sorrow, there was one who observed the unfolding crisis with perfect clarity.
“Chieftain, I have a request.”
“What is it.”
A request, out of nowhere.
Murim Alliance Chieftain Song Ildo regarded Jeggal Mun, the Alliance’s military strategist, with a puzzled expression.
He was a man Song Ildo trusted above all others.
In truth, the problems inherent in the Sarin Group had not gone entirely unmentioned.
But everyone had simply laughed it off, insisting it couldn’t possibly be so.
Only Jeggal Mun had grasped the gravity of the matter and brought it to Song Ildo multiple times, urging that special measures were needed.
Yet each time, Song Ildo had brushed aside Jeggal Mun’s words, insisting that as far as he knew, the Sarin Group could never be like that.
Song Ildo, Chieftain of the Murim Alliance, was indeed a good man.
But his weakness lay precisely in this: he trusted his people far too much, treating them with excessive indulgence.
He did not see that this very flaw was poisoning the Murim Alliance itself.
In any case, Jeggal Mun found this entire matter deeply strange.
Mutual Destruction with the Demonic Cult? That was absolutely not something the Sarin Group he knew would do.
“I would like to send an investigator of my recommendation to look into this matter.”
Whenever incidents or accidents involving the Alliance occurred, it was standard practice for the Alliance to dispatch an investigator to the scene to assess and examine the situation accurately.
Thus, the Murim Alliance was preparing to send an investigator to Hebei.
But Jeggal Mun did not wish to send just anyone as the investigator this time—he wanted to recommend a specific person.
Since such a thing rarely happened, Song Ildo asked with a perplexed look.
“Why?”
“This matter has many questionable aspects. I would therefore like to send someone capable of handling it more thoroughly and carefully than anyone else.”
“What do you mean by questionable aspects.”
“The points I find unclear are not certain enough to explain now. I will report them to you later after further verification. For now, I fear my doubts might cloud your judgment, and I beg your understanding.”
“Hmm. I see. Very well. You handle the matter of dispatching the investigator.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Jeggal Mun bowed lightly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
‘What could it be? This feeling that there is some hidden truth beneath this affair.’
Soon after, he had someone fetch a particular person who had been on his mind.
There was one individual perfectly suited for such a task.
None other than a man who bore the same surname as Jeggal.

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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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