Absolute Regression

That evening.

I trained my martial arts in the mountains, away from my residence. Even after leaving the Cult, I dedicated myself to training whenever I had the chance.

Initially, when the Poison King observed my efforts, he eyed me suspiciously, as if doubting my dedication, thinking it might be just for show. However, he soon saw that I didn’t waste even the smallest spare moments, and he shook his head, remarking on my tenacity. After all, the training I undertook wasn’t ordinary.

One’s martial arts change when the person changes.

This is one of the ultimate truths I believe in about martial arts, but there is one condition: even in the midst of striving to change oneself, one must train in martial arts relentlessly. If the heart moves ahead but the training doesn’t follow, martial arts won’t change, even if the person does.

I first trained in the Thunderous Asura Fist, then practiced the Wind God’s Four Steps, and I didn’t neglect the Soaring Sword Art either.

In the end, I trained by blending these three martial arts together. If I were to face a real formidable opponent, the key to victory would be how efficiently I could use these three martial arts.

As my inner power increased through the Ultimate Poison Pill, its quality also changed. My internal energy felt deeper and more refined. As a result, even when I used the same amount of internal energy to execute techniques, their power became much stronger.

I concluded my training by standing on a high rock and gazing at the setting sun.

After finishing a session of training, Geom Mugeuk visited the marketplace.

He entered the house of the old lady known for having the best craftsmanship in this town.

“Is it ready?”

“Here it is, all done. What do you think?”

Geom Mugeuk smiled as he checked the item the old lady handed him.

“It’s excellent.”

He paid the agreed price and left the place.

Returning to his quarters, he headed to the Poison King’s room.

The Poison King was pacing alone in his room, deep in thought. Suddenly, as if something had occurred to him, he rushed to his desk and grabbed a brush.

He diligently wrote down what came to mind, but when he got stuck again, he got up and paced around the room, then once more fell into deep thought. Suddenly, he sprang up, dashed to the desk, and jotted something down.

“Are you still awake?”

When Geom Mugeuk entered, the Poison King closed the book he was writing in.

“It’s late at night. What brings you here?”

“I brought something for you.”

Geom Mugeuk handed over the item he had made in the marketplace.

It was a pair of gloves.

“What is this?”

The gloves exuded a peculiar and extraordinary aura.

“These gloves are made of Poison-Repelling Heavenly Silk.”

The Poison King was taken aback.

“Poison-Repelling Heavenly Silk, you say?”

The Poison-Repelling Heavenly Silk was far superior to ordinary Green Hide Gloves that provided basic protection against poisons. While the Supreme Heavenly Silk was known for its resilience against external impacts, this Poison-Repelling Heavenly Silk was specifically resistant to poisons.

“Where did you find such a rare material?”

“I discovered it in Jisaeng’s secret vault. I entrusted it to the old lady, known as the most skilled craftsman in the market, to make them into gloves. Try them on. They were made to the same size as the gloves you wore in the Thousand Poison Grove, so they should fit well.”

The green cloth that wrapped the fake Supreme Night Pearl was made from Poison-Repelling Heavenly Silk. It had been used to protect the energy of the Ultimate Poison Pill hidden inside it and stop it from leaking out. The deceased who concealed the Ultimate Poison Pill in the Supreme Night Pearl was undoubtedly a master of poisons.

“Why are you giving me something so precious?”

“Because it is valuable. It’s even stranger that the Poison King didn’t have something like this until now.”

“Have you ever seen a great calligrapher be picky about their brushes?”

“Because a brush doesn’t kill people. Please use these whenever you handle potent poisons in the future.”

I also handed over the remaining silk to him.

“I thought you might have other uses for the remaining material, so I brought it along separately.”

After generously handing over the rest of the Poison-Repelling Heavenly Silk, Geom Mugeuk turned to leave.

“Then, please rest. We will depart early tomorrow.”

Geom Mugeuk bowed and exited the room.

The event happened so suddenly that the Poison King didn’t have a chance to properly express his gratitude.

He stared blankly at the gloves and the silk. Then something caught his eye. There were characters embroidered on the gloves.

On the back of one glove, it read:

Cheon Sang Cheon Ha (天上天下) – “Above Heaven and Earth.”

On the other glove, it read:

Yu A Dok Jon (唯我毒尊) – “I Alone Am the Poison Sovereign.”

The original phrase “Yu A Dok Jon” (唯我獨尊) which means “I Alone Am Supreme,” had the character for “alone” (獨) replaced with the character for “poison” (毒).

A look of emotion briefly crossed the Poison King’s face.

Becoming the Poison Sovereign was his dream, one he had never shared with anyone. Not even with Sangseon, who was utterly devoted to serving him.

Eventually, the Poison King shook his head and muttered to himself.

“Everyone suffers like this, knowing full well what’s coming. Truly, it’s a poison with no antidote.”

Still, he couldn’t hide the pleasant sense of fulfillment that warmed his heart.

* * *

A serpent tattoo was etched across the man’s chest, extending up his neck, with its long tail coiling around it.

The man with a serpent wrapped around his neck.

He was Aechak, one of Yaryuhan’s four confidants. There was a reason he had chosen a serpent from among all creatures. His eyes resembled those of a snake. If one looked solely at his eyes, they could easily be mistaken for those of a serpent. Moreover, his cold and ferocious aura made him even more reminiscent of a snake.

Aechak spoke as he read the letter.

“It says here that Jisaeng is dead.”

Jindok Geosa, who was sitting across from him, was startled.

“How?”

Jindok Geosa, dressed in the neat attire of a scholar, had dark, wrinkled skin that did not quite fit the scholarly appearance he desired. His voice, too, was rough and unappealing.

“As you know, he’d been using a decoy for a long time. But it seems that decoy killed Jisaeng and ran off with his wealth.”

Though Aechak delivered the news calmly, there was no trace of sorrow in his tone. He was merely conveying facts, not emotions.

“He was always so cautious. He wasn’t someone who would die so easily.”

Jisaeng’s death was truly unexpected. Even if everyone else died, he was not the kind of person to go down easily.

However, the investigation by the Meng faction confirmed that the decoy was indeed responsible. Given that it was Jisaeng who had died, they would have conducted a thorough investigation.

Jindok Geosa, who had been listening quietly, suddenly spoke up with an unexpected remark.

“Perhaps it was inevitable.”

He was voicing what Aechak might have wanted to say.

“He pretended to be a horseman and acted like he was some kind of grand mystic, but to me, he was just a coward. A coward never meets a good end.” 1

Indeed, a peculiar smile appeared on Aechak’s lips.

“Now that he’s dead, we finally hear the overdue evaluations.”

It was a mocking rebuke, as if to say, ‘Why are you saying that only now?’

For a moment, irritation surged within Jindok Geosa.

‘If I’ve said what you wanted to say, even if you don’t agree, you should at least not spit on it.’

It was always like this. Aechak would invariably make such unpleasant remarks in situations like these.

Jindok Geosa viewed this as Aechak’s twisted desire for domination.

A person who tries to gain the upper hand in relationships by ensnaring others with negative words. This was how he managed his subordinates.

Jindok Geosa concealed his discomfort and smiled as he spoke.

“In the end, it’s only the dead who are pitiful, isn’t it?” 2

Aechak had such a cruel nature that once someone fell out of his favor, they were bound to end up dead—something Jindok Geosa had witnessed many times. But that didn’t mean he was going to let himself be intimidated.

With a flick, Aechak set the letter he was holding on fire using the lamp. Not a single word of mourning was uttered, even at the end.

When the letter had burned to ashes, Aechak suddenly asked,

“Still haven’t figured out the side effects?”

Jindok Geosa’s eyes twitched at that moment. It wasn’t easy to consistently irritate someone like this. This guy clearly thought he had at least three lives to spare.

“I’m working on it.”

“We must resolve this quickly. Recently, there was an incident involving the Demonic Cult. If something happens to the families of key figures from either the Demonic Cult or the Martial Alliance, it will become a huge problem.” 3

In truth, Aechak wasn’t afraid of the Demonic Cult or the Martial Alliance. What he feared was Yaryuhan’s reprimand as a consequence. The only person he feared in the world was Yaryuhan.

“I will resolve it as swiftly as possible.”

“How long do you need?”

“Give me six months.”

“I’ll give you one month then.”

Jindok Geosa’s expression hardened.

He had anticipated that the timeframe would be cut down and had asked for six months expecting a three-month concession. But one month? This was blatant disrespect.

A tense silence hung between them.

Jindok Geosa felt an urge to unleash his poison right into Aechak’s face. But Aechak, for some reason, didn’t fear his poison at all. Perhaps that’s precisely why Yaryuhan had placed him to keep Jindok Geosa in check.

“I will resolve it as quickly as possible.”

“Let’s hope so.”

For now, Jindok Geosa backed down. But he knew Aechak should understand that his retreat wasn’t due to fear of him, but because of Yaryuhan.

“Then, I’ll take my leave.”

“I’m counting on you, Geosa.”

Aechak watched Jindok Geosa’s back as he walked out, his snake-like eyes narrowing.

‘Useless pride.’

If they couldn’t get a handle on the side effects of Berserk, they would have to abandon it. However, most of their income came from Berserk, so abandoning it wasn’t an option.

‘Old man, wouldn’t it be wiser to first admit that you made a mistake?’

Jindok Geosa had yet to acknowledge any fault in his creation.

Meanwhile, Aechak harbored his own resentments.

Outside, Jindok Geosa turned to his subordinate, who had been waiting.

“How many subjects are left for the experiments?”

“Seven remain.”

“And the next subjects?”

“They are on their way.”

The Unorthodox Alliance had been sending martial artists for Jindok Geosa’s experiments. All of them were individuals who had been imprisoned by the alliance—people who had crossed far beyond acceptable limits, deemed the worst of the worst, even by the standards of the Unorthodox Alliance.

“When will they arrive?”

“It will take about twenty days.”

“That’s too long! You go and bring them here as quickly as possible. Use any means necessary and get them here within ten days!”

“Understood.”

The subordinate dashed out.

The subordinate dutifully carried out his task. Except, he failed to notice one crucial thing: he was being watched by someone.

* * *

Ten days later.

“Arghhhhh!”

A man was thrashing about wildly, blood streaming from his eyes and nose.

Jindok Geosa watched this scene and sighed once more.

He had failed with every one of the last seven test subjects. No matter how he altered the herbal combinations, he couldn’t prevent the side effects.

The problem was the resistance.

Initially, a single pill provided sufficient effects, but the more it was consumed, the more resistance developed, requiring higher doses. As the dosage increased, side effects began to emerge. Currently, such extreme reactions occur in about one out of every few hundred who overdose, but as resistance builds up in more people, it could rise to one in every few dozen. If that happened, the martial world would descend into chaos. 4

Just then, a subordinate arrived and reported.

“The new subjects for the experiments have arrived.”

“How many?”

“Twenty.”

Jindok Geosa stepped outside with the subordinate.

In the yard, two large wagons were parked, and the prisoners were being unloaded. The wagons had no windows—they had been transported like mere cargo. On top of that, their heads were covered with black hoods. With their internal energy suppressed, the suffocating feeling they must have experienced was likely beyond words.

Martial artists approached and removed the hoods from the prisoners’ heads. The prisoners looked around. Although the presence of the martial artists surrounding them was intimidating, none of the prisoners showed fear.

And as usual, when about twenty such desperate souls gathered, it was inevitable that some fearless ones would act out.

“You bastards! I’m Yang Gwang, the Blood Snake!”

He was a notorious villain who had once terrorized the dark corners of the martial world.

“No matter how much the martial world has fallen, is this any way to treat your seniors?”

Furious at being transported like cargo, his anger boiled over. Moreover, the journey, which was supposed to take twenty days, had been completed in ten, making their discomfort unimaginable.

Given the shortage of subjects for the experiments, such complaints could be overlooked.

But his luck was terrible. In fact, he had a string of bad luck.

First, Jindok Geosa was already in a foul mood after yet another failed experiment, and Aechak just happened to be observing the scene from the opposite side.

And the final stroke of bad luck was that his nickname included the word ‘snake’.

Jindok Geosa walked toward him.

“So, you’re the infamous Blood Snake.”

“Yes, that’s me. And who are you?”

“This is who I am.”

Jindok Geosa casually waved his hand.

Everyone who had been watching in curiosity suddenly heard:

“Aaaaargh!”

Blood Snake wailed in agony out of nowhere.

Unable to endure the pain, he writhed on the ground. It was a level of suffering far beyond what any human could bear.

Although most of those present were men who had committed every conceivable atrocity, none had ever seen anyone in such excruciating pain. Whatever was happening inside his body was beyond imagination.

“Kill me… please!” 5

The words came out of Blood Snake’s mouth.

Jindok Geosa looked down at him coldly.

Blood Snake pleaded.

“…Please, kill me!”

Jindok Geosa waved his hand once more.

Blood Snake’s body began to melt away. With just a simple gesture, the man turned into a puddle of blood. This was the prowess of the greatest poison master in the unorthodox world.

No one dared to even breathe loudly.

Jindok Geosa glanced at Aechak in the distance and gave a slight bow. His manner was polite, but the message was clear: If you mess with me, you’ll end up the same way.

Aechak snorted conspicuously and turned back towards his quarters.

Watching his retreating figure, Jindok Geosa smiled in satisfaction and spoke.

“Anyone else feel like announcing who they are?”

No one dared to step forward.

But Jindok Geosa was unaware of one crucial fact: in that very moment, there was indeed someone who wanted to reveal their identity.

The martial artists led the prisoners into the building.

Among those who were being dragged away in fear were Geom Mugeuk and the Poison King. 6

1 : Lol, talking about himself XDXDXD

2 : Isn’t it the livings instead ? The dead no longer suffer and enter a peaceful sleep. It’s the livings who are to be pitied.

3 : Hmpf, it will be the family of a now orphan, powerless boy who will drive you to the abyss. This is well done karma, now that old man Heavens got an helper ^ ^

4 : That’s exactly the same phenomenon that kills so many drug addicts. You need a greater and greater amount to obtain the same effects, and your odds of survival ends up as lethal as playing russian roulette with a fully loaded revolver.

5 : In less than 5 seconds ? Fast.

6 : DUN DUN DUN *Dramatic reveal SFX*

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!