DEB 38

If so, he needed to dig a little deeper.

Huiyun immediately gestured to Siho. Staring into the yokai’s eyes, he whispered, 

“Status window.” 

and soon, the information registered in the “Disciple Education Book for Reincarnator” appeared. Huiyun focused on the status next to Jiwook’s name more than anything else.

Was I a step too slow?

He should have checked Jiwook’s status window earlier, when he was held by him. Now, in a similar state of longing and resentment, he couldn’t glean much information from the status window.

There’s only one way left now. 

“…Does this happen often?”

Huiyun had to probe Jiwook directly. At this moment, Jiwook was more disheveled than usual. Thinking that he might reveal a weakness more easily, he asked, and Jiwook, who was tidying his sweat-drenched hair, frowned as if he didn’t understand.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Do you always act like this?”

Huiyun lifted his hand, glancing at his bruised wrist. Following his gaze, Jiwook looked at the red marks on his hand with a troubled expression and then picked up a jacket from the table, which he didn’t know when he had taken off.

“Are you leaving?”

“Get your bearings straight.” 

“What?”

“If you want to pretend not to be a Yasha, then try harder to act like a Yasha’s disciple. Don’t be half-hearted and play around.”

“No….”

When did I ever play around?

From the perspective of the victim, it was an unfair statement. Jiwook seemed unwilling to discuss it further and quickly left Huiyun’s room. 

Huiyun, seeing Jiwook’s face looking paler than his own as he left, called out to him unconsciously.

“Wait a moment.”

“…What?”

“Um, are you really okay? You’re still sweating.”

“Mind your own business.”

“Mr. Kwon Jiwook.”

“…Ha.”

Was he annoyed because his steps kept getting interrupted? Jiwook let out a loud sigh, glaring at Huiyun with sharp eyes. The irritation in his eyes was evident, which was slightly satisfying.

That’s exactly how I felt when he called me Yasha and tormented me.

Indeed, people need to understand each other’s perspectives.

“Why do you keep calling me? Before, you were desperate for me to leave, and now you want me to stay?”

“Not really, I just have something I’m curious about.”

His eyebrows raised as if telling him to speak, looking quite unpleasant. Huiyun glanced at the quest window still lingering in front of him, then sighed briefly. A simple apology wouldn’t suffice. For the quest to clear, Jiwook needed to realize his wrongdoing and apologize for it, which made Huiyun ponder how to draw that answer out.

As the silence stretched, Jiwook glanced at his wristwatch. Noticing the subtly impatient look, Huiyun decided to voice what came to mind.

It was something he had wanted to ask for a long time but had kept buried. 

“…Do you hate Yasha?”

It was a question that didn’t need an answer. One look at his eyes, filled with hatred and resentment, was enough. Yet, he asked, believing the question might shake him, help reveal his true feelings, and understand why he had suddenly become so strange.

Though there were many excuses, the real reason for asking was one.

Were the emotions filling his eyes true, unadulterated hatred?

He really needed to stick to one thing.

Huiyun thought himself a hypocritical person and mocked himself internally. Jiwook was right. He should either act like Yasha or like Yasha’s disciple, but he wasn’t doing either properly.

I know. But what can I do?

This was Huiyun, and the one who wanted to look into the heart of the disciple was Yasha.

Neither one nor the other, that was Huiyun’s current state.

Or maybe it was just another excuse.

Looking inward, finding himself too tangled to untangle, Huiyun watched Jiwook stiffen at the question. The man, surprised by the unexpected question, clenched his lips in a displeased expression.

Did he not want to answer?

It was surprising. The Jiwook he knew would have taken this chance to declare his hatred for Yasha and somehow hurt him. 

What was he hesitating about?

“Why are you curious about that?”

The pondering Jiwook replied with a question instead of an answer.

Where did he learn such insolence?

Huiyun checked the status window as Jiwook resumed speaking formally. His respect had increased by 1%. So, Jiwook using formal speech indicated he viewed him as Yasha in a rational situation.

Unlike moments ago when he called him Yasha with crazed eyes and speaking informally, that seemed to be an exception.

“Just curious.”

He could have ended it with a dubious answer but he decided to be honest. He couldn’t clearly understand why he was curious, so this was the most honest response Huiyun could give.

Jiwook scrutinized Huiyun with a complex look before opening the hospital room door without a word.

Creak.

One foot stepped out of the open door.

“It’s an emotion that can’t be defined by hatred alone. Regret, remorse, pity, anger, resentment, hatred, all mixed together, so I can’t pinpoint it exactly.”

As Jiwook’s body was about to fully leave the room, his muttering lingered in the air.

“If you’re curious, why don’t you take a look yourself? To see what kind of feelings I have when I look at you.”

The man whispered, then added something, but it was too quiet to hear clearly. Huiyun silently watched Jiwook’s back as he walked away without looking back.

Regret, remorse, pity, anger, resentment, hatred.

So many emotions directly expressed by Jiwook. As Huiyun glanced around the room where Jiwook had just been, he felt his face drier than usual and touched his skin.

The spot where Jiwook’s tears had dried felt tight. It seemed like some kind of mark, and Huiyun, touching the area where the tears had fallen, murmured the words Jiwook had repeated in his seemingly insane state.

“Abandoned again, huh….”

It seemed Jiwook had become extremely agitated when he realized Huiyun was going to abandon him. 

There must have been a trigger for that realization.

“I didn’t detect anything, but maybe he planted a listening device in the room.”

After sending Jiwook out of the hospital room, they hadn’t met again. If his actions had triggered Jiwook’s change, it was likely the conversation with Huigang, and the most plausible way for Jiwook to hear that was through eavesdropping.

He heard it all.

Huiyun realized Jiwook must have heard his conversation with Huigang, including the part about escaping.

Huiyun realized he had been careless, took a deep breath, and then tilted his head back.

Maybe I should just reveal that I’m Yasha.

Reveal it, face all the emotions of the disciples, accept them, seek their forgiveness. 

Then, find a peaceful life and leave.

The first step was misaligned, leading everything to get tangled like this. Huiyun wondered if things would have been different if he had followed the proper steps, but realizing it was a pointless thought, he gave a crooked smile.

“What’s the use of worrying? I can’t say it anyway.” 

Huiyun was also frustrated with the situation.

Having to deceive those who firmly believed he was Yasha, insisting he was Yasha’s disciple, and facing the sharp emotions of those who were once his disciples—all of it was frustrating and irritating as nothing went as planned.

But there was no other way.

If he revealed he was Yasha, it would imprint the existence of Yasha in this world.

The effect of defining himself with his name was much more dramatic than others calling him Yasha. Especially in Yasha’s case, the impact of his name alone was enormous.

So, he couldn’t say it.

Revealing he was Yasha, having the disciples accept it, and thereby imprinting Yasha’s name in the world would mean that someone closest to the gods had descended to earth.

The balance of good and evil.

It bound Yasha in his past life and binds Huiyun now with its immense scales.

Recalling that, Huiyun laughed bitterly. Who could have predicted it?

When the power of good grows, the forces of evil also grow proportionately.

The same goes for the opposite. When the power of evil increases, those in the realm of good also gain equal strength. It’s the basic principle of the scales trying to maintain balance.

Past-life Yasha didn’t realize this until the Great Heavenly Demon War erupted. Only when many humans were killed by demons and his precious disciple lost an arm did he stupidly understand.

His existence was making the demons infinitely stronger.

As Yasha’s power grew, so did the demons’, but while Yasha alone grew stronger, the demons as a whole grew stronger to balance his power. Thus, unless Yasha intervened, the war always leaned towards the demons.

Yasha wasn’t an entity with multiple bodies, and ultimately, to end the war with minimal sacrifice, there was only one way. To end what seemed like an eternal war, to reduce the massive evil power, Yasha committed suicide. His death brought balance, weakening the demons’ collective power.

That’s why this life’s Huiyun resisted awakening with all his might.

The unyielding scales.

If they tilted significantly again, a second Great Heavenly Demon War would break out.

Huiyun didn’t want to experience another war. He didn’t want to put his disciples through another devastating battle.

So, he had to live quietly.

As long as the weakened demons were buried underground and the angels watched over the earth from the clouds, he had to remain quiet.

If his reincarnation with all his disciples in this era was to prevent the second Great Heavenly Demon War, then the day would come eventually, but to avoid accelerating that time, Huiyun had to remain Mok Huiyun, not Yasha.

My shoulders are stiff.

Feeling the weight of the responsibility that came with being Yasha for the first time in a long while, Huiyun turned his head and hugged Siho. After about two hours, Siho, devoid of emotions, displayed a quest failure notification, causing Huiyun to let out a deflated laugh despite his heavy thoughts.