Absolute Regression

Chapter 476: It’s Uncle’s Retirement Fund

Yeom Je collapsed beside the Throne Mat, shutting his eyes tightly.

He wished that, when he opened them, he would find himself back in his sleeping quarters. That all of this had just been a nightmare from the previous night.

But when he opened his eyes, the nightmare was standing right before him.

The look in Geom Mugeuk’s eyes as he looked down at him was calm. Yet, it was precisely because it was calm and courteous that it was even more terrifying. He had slaughtered all the subordinates with those clear eyes. Killed them all while speaking politely.

Now it was time for him to fight. But he felt no will to do so.

‘So this day has finally come.’

Yeom Je raised his voice in resentment.

“What grudge do you have against me? Just because I swindled a bit of money, does it really have to go this far?”

Did he kill them just because of the money?

The truth was, their accumulated misdeeds were far too grave. From the moment he stepped into this place, he had come with the intent to kill them all.

If they were left alive and fate continued as it was originally meant to, then too many Righteous Alliance martial artists would end up dead in the process of eliminating them.

Those who must die will die, and those who must live will live. That creed of regression applied just the same here in the Hundred Immortals Gang.

“You can’t take the money with you when you die, so why were you so obsessed with it?”

Yeom Je clenched his teeth as he stared down at the blood pooling beneath him. That kind of remark was for losers. Only those who couldn’t make money said things like that. What could possibly have more value than money?

In the end, he cursed out loud.

“You bastard! It’s my money! All of it is mine! Whether I throw it around in the market or stuff it into my coffin, what business is it of yours?!”

Geom Mugeuk saw madness in his eyes. A man who had lived his entire life this way—how could a few words possibly make him repent?

Suddenly, he remembered what the Galaxy Trading Company Head once said.

—I’ve seen too many people get so caught up in the thrill of making money that they end up being devoured by it.

And the one who had reached the extreme end of that road was none other than this Yeom Je. He had no right to feel proud now.

“That money isn’t even yours, is it?”

Stabbed in the heart with the truth, Yeom Je grit his teeth. All he could say in rebuttal was:

“Who do you think you are?”

The answer came without hesitation.

“How many times must I say it? I’m the one here to collect the debt.”

He kept asking the same question because, in his mind, the concept of repaying borrowed money simply didn’t exist.

“Open your private vault.”

If not for this goal, he wasn’t even worth exchanging a single word with.

“I told you, I don’t have one.”

Even after all ninety-nine of his subordinates had been killed, he still refused to open his private vault. He was the kind of man who valued money more than his life. ⱤΆ𐌽ố𝐁Ɛs̈

‘Do you know what I did to earn this money?’

He had done every unspeakable thing imaginable to make it. Beating people, kidnapping them, selling them off, killing them. No matter if he ended up in hell—while he was still in this world, he was determined to live well and eat well. He had earned this money by doing it all.

He was fully prepared to die before ever giving it up.

“I know your vault is in this Grand Hall.”

Yeom Je tried to act calm, but who could he possibly deceive? His heartbeat pounded so loudly, Geom Mugeuk heard it like thunder.

“Didn’t you say it yourself when you opened that vault? That Hundred Immortals Gang’s vault was placed in the place where you spent the most time. Then your personal vault must be here too.”

Geom Mugeuk pushed forward without giving him any time to think.

“I’ll retrieve the money myself.”

Geom Mugeuk drew his sword. He was about to cut him down in one clean stroke without hesitation.

“I’ll open it! Just spare me!”

Geom Mugeuk’s sword stopped in midair.

Even in that moment, Geom Mugeuk didn’t miss it. Though Yeom Je sounded like he had given up, there was still a venomous glare in his eyes that didn’t know the meaning of surrender.

“You’re right. The vault is here.”

Yeom Je stood up and walked to the back. He entered the empty vault he had opened earlier and ran his hand across the ceiling. It was a plain wall with no apparent mechanisms, yet a hidden device was embedded there.

Ziiiiing.

One side of the vault’s interior wall opened, revealing an abacus.

This vault had been a decoy meant to conceal the real one.

A dual-layered vault.

The money and gold bars in the first vault were nothing more than trap triggers and defense mechanisms to protect the real vault.

No one would suspect that behind all that gold and silver, another vault existed.

Yeom Je flicked the abacus. It was a sophisticated mechanism that required the exact numbers to open the door.

“Get even one number wrong, and you’re done.”

For whatever reason, he revealed the input on the abacus openly.

Three, two, four.

And just before he entered the final digit, Yeom Je turned his back and suddenly spoke.

“I know you’re not going to let me live even after I open it.”

Yeom Je looked back at Geom Mugeuk with a cryptic smile in his eyes.

He pushed up the last bead on the abacus.

The number was four.

At that very moment—

Chiiiiiik.

Smoke sprayed from the ceiling where the two stood. By deliberately entering the wrong number, he triggered a defense mechanism designed to repel intruders—poison mist was released.

Amidst the poison mist, Yeom Je laughed and spoke.

“The final number wasn’t four. It was three.”

With an expression more venomous than ever, he added,

“It’s the most agonizing poison in the world. You’ll feel every one of your organs melt away. Anyone who goes after my money deserves to die writhing in hellish pain!”

He burst into laughter—only to let out a scream of agony a moment later. The pain flooding through his body was excruciating, but he didn’t care. He was going to die anyway—at least he could take the bastard with him.

‘Die with me, you bastard!’

Thrashing in pain, he looked at Geom Mugeuk. The final sight he wished to leave this world with was Geom Mugeuk squirming in agony.

But what he expected wasn’t there.

‘What…?’

Geom Mugeuk was still standing in place, silently staring at him.

‘Why?’

They had both been engulfed in the poison mist. He couldn’t tell if that gaze was mocking or pitying.

He was confused. Even in the unbearable pain of his organs melting, the question burned in his mind—why wasn’t he dying?

Then, just before his breath stopped, Geom Mugeuk’s voice reached his ear.

“The final number was three?”

Hearing those words, Yeom Je let out a scream.

“No!”

He had revealed the number thinking they would die together. But if this was how it ended—

“It’s my money! That’s my money!”

The pain of his organs melting was nothing compared to the torment of having his money taken. In the end, he died in agony, a slave to his wealth to the very last breath.

Geom Mugeuk, leaving the corpse behind, entered the correct digits into the abacus.

Then the concealed vault opened.

Inside, there were only promissory notes.

All of them were high-value notes issued by the Three Major Money Exchanges of the Central Plains. They had been prepared to be easily taken and fled with at any moment.

Geom Mugeuk gathered them all and walked out of the vault.

He didn’t spare a single glance at Yeom Je’s corpse. As always, he placed no meaning in the deaths of villains.

Drip, drop.

He let them flow past his life like the blood beneath his feet.

*         *         *

Geum Arin paced nervously across the courtyard.

Waiting inside the room had been too suffocating—she couldn’t stay still any longer.

“Should I go now after all?”

At her words, Lim Hyuk, who stood a short distance away, responded firmly.

“You mustn’t.”

Protecting Geum Arin was his mission—there was no way he would accept her suggestion.

“He might die.”

“Even so, no.”

After a pause, Lim Hyuk added,

“Swordsman Geom will be fine.”

Yes, she thought so too. If only it weren’t for this feeling.

"Even though his opponent is the Hundred Immortals Gang, no less?"

That thought flickered across Lim Hyuk’s mind.

‘Yes, even if it is the Hundred Immortals Gang.’

And yet, he didn’t say it aloud—probably to protect Geum Arin’s heart. No need to raise her hopes…

Just then, a metallic scent of blood rode in on the wind.

Lim Hyuk immediately leapt forward, blocking Geum Arin from the front.

The scent of blood thickened steadily.

And then the door opened—and someone stepped into the inner courtyard.

"You?"

Geum Arin was speechless for a moment.

The man who entered was Geom Mugeuk. His clothes and body were soaked through with blood.

"Are you hurt?"

Startled, she asked, and Geom Mugeuk staggered over, clutching his chest as he slumped down on a rock.

"I have one final request. If I die, please tell my father this: ‘Your son went to collect a debt at the request of a woman and walked into certain death…’"

"That’s not funny, so let’s stop there."

"You saw through it?"

Of course, she had. The acting had been so exaggerated, it was obvious.

But even if the performance had been convincingly realistic, she felt she still wouldn’t have believed it. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would say anything before he died. He struck her as someone who would lean quietly against a small rock, looking out at the windy plains with those clear eyes, and simply die without a word.

She had never once imagined such a thing before, but seeing him act out death stirred that thought in her.

A wave of relief washed over her, belatedly.

"You returned safely."

"Were you worried?"

Geum Arin didn’t answer, but he could feel just how deeply she had been worried as she waited.

"Here, take this."

Geom Mugeuk pulled out a bundle of envelopes from the leather pouch strapped to him.

"What is this?"

"Money to be returned from the Hundred Immortals Gang. Go and hand them back."

Each envelope was labeled with the name of a trading company or martial faction. One of them bore the name of the Golden Dragon Family. Inside it was a promissory note worth one million five hundred thousand nyang.

Geum Arin’s eyes widened.

"You really collected all the money?"

"It’s half, just like I promised."

She had only prayed for Geom Mugeuk’s safe return.

She had prayed desperately that he would come back unharmed—that even if he failed to recover the money, she didn’t care. She just wanted him alive. But he had returned… with every last nyang?

"What happened to the Hundred Immortals Gang?"

Her trembling voice carried the question, and the answer was devastating.

"The Hundred Immortals Gang no longer exists in this world."

Geum Arin was stunned into silence. Even Lim Hyuk, standing behind her, opened his eyes wide in shock.

Of course, it made sense—he wouldn’t have been able to retrieve the money otherwise. But hearing those words directly made his heart pound.

He annihilated the Hundred Immortals Gang on his own? Was that even possible?

Just then, Geom Mugeuk held out one more envelope.

"This is money from my share. I’m giving it to you."

The amount was an unexpected fortune.

“I don’t need it.”

“I’m not giving you this money for your own use.”

“Then what for?”

“There are trading companies and residents who’ve suffered harsh lives because of the Hundred Immortals Gang’s tyranny.”

Indeed, there were countless people like that.

“Use this money to help them.”

Geum Arin was taken aback. She stared at Geom Mugeuk for a moment before asking cautiously.

“Why are you asking me to do it? You could do it yourself.”

That way, he could receive all the credit for the good deed as well.

“Didn’t you ask me to help make you the successor? I’m keeping that promise.”

“What do you mean?”

“With this act of retrieving funds for each of the trading companies, your reputation is going to rise significantly. And if you also help those in need, you’ll be another step closer to becoming the successor.”

Geum Arin was at a loss for words.

“Even I hadn’t thought of that.”

To that, Geom Mugeuk gave an unexpected reply.

“That’s why I think you’re fit to be the successor.”

“What?”

“Because your ambition is still pure.”

Geum Arin looked at Geom Mugeuk for a moment, then voiced her honest thoughts.

“That ambition will soon be tainted.”

“If our connection continues, at the very least, it won’t be corrupted.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“I’ll introduce you to some friends. They’re quite pure, considering the positions they hold. If you spend time with them, you’ll start to think, ‘Even these people are this pure—what about me?’”

‘Considering the positions they hold?’ Just who was he talking about?

From the first time she met Geom Mugeuk, he had been an unusual man—but the more she got to know him, the more mysterious he seemed.

“I was paid well for this job, so it’s only right I do at least this much.”

Despite having done something worthy of bragging about all day, Geom Mugeuk left the place without delay.

Geum Arin looked down at the envelopes Geom Mugeuk had left behind and muttered to herself.

“I used to think so too.”

But now, another thought came to mind.

Perhaps she had hired him for far too cheap a price.

*         *         *

I placed two envelopes on the table.

“We’ll split the profit from this task equally as well.”

My father looked at me after checking the amount inside the envelope. He was surprised at how much there was.

“They had hoarded quite a fortune. There used to be even more, but I allocated part of it to those who had suffered until now.”

Hui spoke cautiously.

“The money I received earlier is already more than enough for me.”

Of course, he had expected Hui to say that.

“You should keep it. There will definitely come a time when you’ll need it.”

“No, I don’t need it. Please give it to the Cult Leader.”

I persuaded him, even though he still looked conflicted.

“You should prepare for the days when you won’t even have the strength to lift a sword. Travel, enjoy yourself. You’ve spent your whole life as an escort—now it’s your turn to have escort warriors of your own. Really expensive ones, too.”

Hui’s expression made it clear that this was something he had never once considered.

Father gave me a look that said, ‘There he goes again,’ before turning to Hui and saying,

“Take it.”

“Yes, Cult Leader.”

Hui tucked the envelope away.

“Then I’ll accept it with thanks. I’ll use this money for the juniors.”

He meant the junior escorts of the Heavenly Demon Pavilion.

“No, you mustn’t! That’s your retirement fund!”

To that, Hui smiled faintly and asked me,

“You won’t be spending that money on yourself either, will you, Young Cult Leader?”

He already knew. He knew I would invest all the money I had earned this time into Hidden Moon and the Tenebrous Ghosts Corps.

“I’m still young, aren’t I? Retirement plans can wait…”

“That’s precisely why you should start now.”

Hearing Hui say something like that made me feel good.

He had lived his past life like unyielding cold iron, so in this life, I wanted him to live more gently and with joy.

That’s when Father suddenly asked me,

“Are you all right?”

It was a question that struck straight into my heart.

Father had asked me the same thing before.

Even after I had stained my hands with so much blood—was I all right?

Though I had washed thoroughly and changed into clean clothes, it seemed I hadn’t been able to fully rid myself of the scent of blood clinging to me.

I took a moment to check within myself, to gauge how I truly felt.

“I think I’m all right.”

Father probably didn’t know just how much strength his simple question gave me.

And in that moment, I realized—what mattered wasn’t whether I said I was all right or not.

“I’ll definitely come to you if it gets hard later.”

To convey this feeling—that his son still relied on him—that was far more important.

“I’m pushing forward with this plan because I trust you, Father.”

“What if they find out we’re the ones behind it?”

I didn’t think that mattered.

“Well, if things go wrong, you’ll take care of it. Didn’t I tell you on the way here? There are some people out there who need to be shown—just once—that you exist in this martial world.”

It wasn’t flattery. It was the truth, from the bottom of my heart.

That’s why, on this first journey into the martial world with my father by my side, what I wanted to say to them was this—

“If you think you’ve got what it takes, then come out and face me.”