Descent of the Demon Master

“Mm?”

Nakata Yuji stared weirdly at Nobuo some distance away. That unknown warrior definitely spoke Korean, didn’t he?

Someone speaking Korean in the gathering of Japanese warriors? Nakata Yuji smirked softly at that.

There was nothing to be surprised about here. After all, weren’t the two men right next to him also Korean?

“Is he a Korean-Japanese?” Nakata Yuji narrowed his eyes.

Everyone knew that a sizable number of Yakuza members were Korean-Japanese. It was just that no one openly talked about it. This situation wasn't all that surprising, considering that targets of discrimination like them were easy prey to the allure of the criminal lifestyle.

The martial world was obviously somewhat different from the criminal underworld, but the situation was more or less similar.

The renowned warrior clans and families had formed the central pillars of Japanese martial society since the Warring States period. But it was impossible to fill the ranks of grunts with famed warriors. As such, meat shields were always in demand, and the discriminated Korean-Japanese thirsting for better things in life were perfect for that role.

Of course, with their bloodline being what it was, they’d never climb high enough in the hierarchy. However, they seemed to have already tempered their expectations in that regard, anyway.

This situation was only possible after the Korean-Japanese’s desire to achieve moderate levels of success they could flaunt in society perfectly aligned with the martial world’s desire to find useful pawns.

“M-Mister Yuji!”

Nakata Yuji heard someone call his name and turned his head to look, only to frown slightly after spotting a figure of an unknown man rushing toward him.

This man stopped before Nakata Yuji and hurriedly introduced himself. “I’m Motobe from Eihana-kai.”

Nakata Yuji silently nodded. In his mind, however…

‘Who cares what your name is?’

Nakata Yuji had never heard of this guy before. Still, this man should be a high-ranking individual from his territory, considering how he recognized Nakata Yuji and paid respect like this.

“My sincerest apologies, sir! This idiot is from our group.” Motobe bowed deeply while grabbing the back of Nobuo’s head and forcing the latter to bow as well.

Nobuo took the hint and cried out, “My sincerest apologies!”

“...Yes, yes. I understand you’re sincere,” Nakata Yuji groaned. “I’m not the type to lose my temper at someone muttering to themselves.”

Motobe kept his head down. “Thank you for your generosity.”

“Hold on, hold on… What happened to my public image for this kind of misunderstanding to develop?” Nakata Yuji frowned and shook his head.

Kim Seok-Il observed this exchange in silence before smirking deeply. “Why do you act like people are wrong about you? When they have the right idea?”

“I’d much prefer if you keep your mouth shut. Keeping a pair of bastards alive when they are no longer useful is already testing my patience, you see?”

“Hah. You still want to talk about your image and whatnot after mouthing off crap like that? This is why you smelly Jap bastards are no good.”

“…” Nakata Yuji was forced into shaking his head in silence.

Very few things in this world were as troublesome as dealing with a man with nothing to lose.

Nakata Yuji was allowing Kim Seok-Il's insolence for a simple reason. Killing this cripple was as easy as drinking water, but death wouldn't have terrified or tormented Kim Seok-Il. At least, that was the impression Nakata Yuji got.

Kim Seok-Il was already experiencing a living Hell. So, the prospect of going to the netherworld wouldn't faze him much. Actually, it'd give him the respite he desired. And Nakata Yuji saw no reason to help the cripple find that eternal rest.

Then again, maybe Kim Seok-Il had been thinking of something similar, too. His suffering must be torturous enough to desire an immediate end to his existence, but his intense hatred of Kang Jin-Ho kept him going. He must be desperately resisting the urge to bite his tongue and kill himself right this second.

Kim Seok-Il's continuous jabs at other people designed to rouse hostile reactions from them must be born out of his pitiful state. He couldn't kill himself, but he'd have 'no choice' but to accept his fate if someone else killed him.

‘In that case, I will not be the one to liberate you from your misery.’

Nakata Yuji smiled wryly while looking away. “We don’t have a problem here, so you can go… No, hold on.”

Nakata Yuji suddenly studied Nobuo in genuine interest before addressing the latter. “Fella, what’s your name?”

“Sir, it’s Nobuo.”

“I see. Nobuo… Nobuo, is it?” Nakata Yuji casually gestured at Motobe with his chin. “Please excuse us while I speak to Nobuo.”

“B-but…?”

“Please. Humor us.”

Motobe nodded, his expression one of unease. He was responsible for all the Eihana-kai members currently in this place.

In return for granting power over the members, the clan expected Motobe to... Nay, it demanded responsibility from Motobe. So, if something untoward happened after handing Nobuo over to Nakata Yuji… The blame would solely land on Motobe's shoulders.

Unfortunately, Motobe knew he had no power to reject Nakata Yuji’s “polite” request.

“Understood. Well, then…” Motobe nodded slightly and backed away.

Nobuo swallowed his saliva nervously at the sight of Motobe walking away.

‘Why me, though?’

This man was none other than Nakata Yuji! Even someone like Nobuo had heard of him. As a matter of fact, he had heard the stories plenty of times before!

Nakata Yuji was THE big fish leading the famed Nanahoshi-gumi. So, why would someone like that waste his time with an insignificant small fish like Nobuo?

“So… You said your name was Nobuo?” Nakata Yuji glanced back at Nobuo.

“Yes, sir! That is my name!”

Nobuo’s body stiffened and stood at attention all on its own. His voice even sounded a couple of octaves higher than usual, too. He was so tense that his entire figure was as taut as a fully-drawn bow.

“Are you a Korean-Japanese?”

“…!”

“Don’t worry, you can answer.”

“Y-yes, sir. I am.”

“Hmm…” Nakata Yuji slightly turned his head to stare at Kim Seok-Il and Lee Seong-Hwi. “Well, now. How does it feel to meet another person from your mother nation like this? I figured you'd be emotional after running into another person sharing Korean blood.”

“That’s enough horsesh*t from you,” Kim Seok-Il growled while gnashing his teeth. “What’s your point? You want us traitors to get together and party or something?”

“Kekeke…! No, you are not the same. You two are definitely traitors to your country, but this fella here? He has the… extenuating circumstances to excuse him, you see?”

Nobuo's mind almost blanked out at the mention of traitors.

‘Huh? Traitors?’

That assertion wasn’t technically wrong. After all, Nobuo was siding with the Japanese to invade Korea. The blood coursing through his veins was still Korean, even though he went by a Japanese name and lived in Japan.

So, for him to invade Korea?

“Nobuo?”

“Y-yes, sir!” Nobuo nearly freaked out and hurriedly replied when Nakata Yuji called his name.

“You don’t look so good there, Nobuo.”

“I-I’m fine, sir!”

“You don't have to blame yourself for this, Nobuo,” said Nakata Yuji while grabbing and squeezing Nobuo's shoulder. “In our current era, talking about one's mother nation and demanding you to be more patriotic is such a laughable notion, at least in my view. Wouldn't you agree?”

“…”

“Wouldn’t you agree, Nobuo?”

“Y-yes, sir!”

“Good, good…”

Pat, pat…!

Nakata Yuji patted Nobuo on the shoulder as if to indicate he liked the answer. “Yes, the era has changed. Some boomers still mouth off about nonsense like that, but why should we care about patriotism and all that when we must focus on ensuring our survival first?”

It was as if Nakata Yuji was merely stating his opinion but also subtly demanding Nobuo to agree with him. Whether that impression was right or wrong didn't matter as Nobuo had no choice but to animatedly nod away.

He didn’t want to get on Nakata Yuji’s bad books, after all!

Although Nakata Yuji was known as a generous-minded leader, Nobuo knew only too well there was no such thing as a generous, kind leader in this part of the world.

“So, then… Nobuo. I wanted to ask you something,” said Nakata Yuji.

“Yes, sir!”

“What do you think?”

“...Sir?”

“The relationship between us and the Koreans isn't that nice. So, what do you think about siding with us and invading Korea?”

Nobuo's eyes reflexively looked up as his brain tried to process Nakata Yuji's question. How should he reply here?

He could sense it. He could tell that under all the nice guy facade, Nakata Yuji was barely containing his staggering cruelty. This man was a wolf… No, a venomous snake in sheep’s clothing!

Nobuo instinctively realized his fate would be dependent on how he replied. His lips parted several times only to clamp shut again and again. However, he eventually forced his voice out.

“S-sir! To me, such things as countries don’t matter!”

“Hoh-oh?”

“Korea has given me nothing, sir. I see no reason to stay loyal in that case. Patriotism only means something when the country is protecting me and providing for me. That’s… my belief, sir.”

“Yes, yes… Indeed,” Nakata Yuji nodded in satisfaction after getting the reply he wanted. “Good. I expect great things from you, Nobuo.”

“T-thank you, sir.”

Nakata Yuji patted Nobuo on the back a couple of times before walking away. Although he was leaving behind Lee Seong-Hwi and Kim Seok-Il, he no longer cared about those two.

After all, their usefulness had run out.

They might become useful once more after reaching Korea, but only for trifling matters. Working as a mediator and a bridge between the Chinese and Japan was the extent of their roles, and they had performed it admirably well.

‘In that case… Time to dispose of them.’

Once the hunt was over, the hunting dogs would be disposed of. However, Nakata Yuji's current attention was locked on something else.

‘Hmm… I wonder, how many Korean Japanese are here?’

There shouldn’t be any random riff-raffs spoiling the party since only the elites had been summoned here. Even so, the number of Korean-Japanese should be fairly high. Some must be hiding their background. Some could even be Koreans who had emigrated to Japan rather than being born here.

...And these people could become an unwelcome variable.

‘Looks like I need to investigate this situation.’

Nakata Yuji’s tongue slithered out to lick his lips.

This could be nothing but a trifling variable. Even so, Nakata Yuji couldn’t let such minor matters scupper his grand plan. While thinking about what to do next, he silently studied the procession of warriors entering the imposing cruise ship.

‘The ship of death, is it…?’

Of course, it’d be from the perspective of South Korea! Because, when these warriors set foot inside the peninsula…! The Korean martial world would turn into a living Hell.

When his thoughts reached that far, an odious smirk automatically broke free on Nakata Yuji’s lips.

‘Damn it, damn it…’

Nakata Yuji hurriedly rubbed his face.

‘Calm down. Don’t forget that I’m a pacifist. For now, I should be grieving. As if I’m forced into doing something I do not wish to do.’

Only then would others not look at him weirdly!

‘Wait for me, Morigawa Atsushi! I shall avenge your death soon.’

By cutting Kang Jin-Ho's head off, of course!

***

Lee Seong-Hwi tightly clenched his fists while glaring at the back of Nakata Yuji walking away.

Obviously, he knew he was no longer useful. Once they reached South Korea, the only purpose they'd serve was as a GPS. Yapping on about where the Martial Assembly was located and where Kang Jin-Ho lived would be the extent of everything he and Kim Seok-Il could do.

Neither Lee Seong-Hwi nor Kim Seok-Il were physically strong enough to help these people in a scuffle. But they were also not cunning enough to provide the Japanese with foolproof plans. In other words… Their roles here were over.

He had finally done it. He endured the long, unforgiving humiliation to finally drive Kang Jin-Ho into the depths of utter ruination and despair. Finally… It was done!

“...Goddamn it!”

However, Lee Seong-Hwi didn’t feel good. Not as much as he expected, at least.

No, that was a lie. His anticipation of finally making good on the promise of revenge and watching Kang Jin-Ho die… He didn’t feel vindicated or happy about any of this.

All he could feel right now was this leeriness. He felt dirty. This inescapable dirtiness clinging to his senses was irritating him to no end.

‘Just what… What is my problem?’

What that Korean Japanese man, Nobuo, said earlier was right. The Korean martial society or the country didn’t lend a hand as Lee Seong-Hwi and Kim Seok-Il got crushed mercilessly. In that case, why should they feel indebted to the Korean martial society?

No, he should be mocking them instead! And prove to them that they had made the wrong choice!

Just as Lee Seong-Hwi’s thoughts reached that far…

“Uhm, excuse me…?” Nobuo turned his head to stare at Lee Seong-Hwi and Kim Seok-Il.

His Korean was obviously sloppy, and it got on Lee Seong-Hwi's nerves. Still, he had no trouble understanding what Nobuo wanted to ask.

“You two are Koreans, so why…?”

Lee Seong-Hwi couldn't immediately respond. Even if he had thousands of reasons and millions of justifications, at least in this very moment… None of them mattered. He still wouldn't have been able to answer.

Lee Seong-Hwi bit his lower lip and hurriedly headed to the ship while avoiding Nobuo’s gaze.

Soon, that ship would depart for Korea. And then…

It’d be too late to turn back.