I thought I had seen every form of filth this world had to offer.

But I realized I had merely been skimming the surface of life.

Look around.

Isn’t this what true suffering looks like?

"Ugh...!"

I survived the first day. Even sleeping was impossible, so all I could do was lie there, breathing in and out.

I thought it would get better after a day, but when I woke from a shallow slumber, I realized how wrong I was.

As morning approached, I couldn’t even scream. My tongue barely moved, and I couldn’t lift a single finger.

I was parched. Thirst clawed through my body.

It felt like black sand had replaced my blood, clogging my veins and rotting me from the inside out.

I couldn’t even roll my eyes.

And in that stillness, I reflected on the passage of seven days.

Lying still wasn’t going to change anything.

I needed to move. To endure this agony and stand upright.

I had to.

...I knew I had to.

"......"

But my resolve was crumbling.

Beneath the weight of this insurmountable pain.

. . .

I dreamed.

My younger sister wasn’t there. My parents weren’t there either.

I was simply standing in a blank space. No matter how I turned, there was nothing to see.

So, I just stood there. With no idea what to do, I simply stood still.

Then I woke up.

And the pain hit me like a wave.

"Ugh...!"

I let out a groan. The air I exhaled was scalding, as if it were searing my throat.

Even a mere groan made it feel like every thorn in existence had lodged itself in my tongue.

My lungs felt strange. Had breathing always been this excruciating?

I couldn’t breathe. Pain mingled with every inhale and exhale.

I was dying.

Decaying while still alive.

Was death the only answer? I didn’t know. But instinctively, I understood it was the closest escape.

The only way to be freed from this torment.

The only way out of this wretchedness.

I waited for the black-robed figure. I waited for Ilma to come and drive a blade into my heart.

Why didn’t time move faster?

Kill me.

Please...

Please, just end it.

. . .

"Brother."

"Hmm?"

"Can’t we play together today?"

My younger sister tugged at my sleeve. I wanted to smile and tell her yes.

But I couldn’t. If I played with her, there’d be no way to provide her with food afterward.

"...Later. We’ll play later."

"When?"

"Later..."

There would be time. If we just kept living, someday I’d have the luxury to hold her hand and take her out to see the night streets.

"We’ll play later. Okay?"

"...Brother."

The hand tugging at my sleeve fell away limply.

"When is later?"

When?

I turned around.

There was nothing behind me.

"...Ah."

Caught between dream and reality, I writhed. Blood seeped from my bitten tongue.

Where did the dream end, and where did reality begin?

I didn’t know. All I knew was the agony. All I could do was pray for it all to end.

Heavenly Demon, take my life. Ilma, cut the flesh from my bones.

I want to die. No, I want to live.

My sister. Where is my sister? Where am I?

"Welcome to the Flower Shadow Sect."

Memories tangled together.

Words I had heard surged up like bile.

"It’s too late to start anything now."

"You weren’t born with anything to begin with."

"Effort is important, but... doesn’t the effort of a genius yield more results than that of a commoner?"

"Idiot."

"Young warrior, forgive me for saying so, but perhaps it’s best to give up on the sword?"

Memories interwove.

"Jeok Woon. What a pathetic name."

"Son, your sister is dead."

"If you’re the gatekeeper, just do your job and open the gate."

"Son, are you planning to starve us to death too?"

"Be grateful for the sect leader’s mercy."

Memories collided.

"Jeok Woon, someone has to do it. As a warrior of the Moorim Alliance, isn’t it your duty to sacrifice your life for righteousness?"

"But the pay is double. Don’t worry, I’ll send all of it to your family."

"Who would’ve thought the guy they recommended would be such a fool."

"Come on, rookie, let’s get your initiation over with. Lick it all up—every last drop."

"Did you really think you could accomplish anything by challenging me?"

Memories...

"Jeok Woon, I’m sorry."

"Pathetic bastard. You’ll be nothing more than a gatekeeper for the rest of your life."

"Brother, when is later?"

"Let go of the sword, young warrior. It won’t help you."

"Son, give us money. Do you want to let your parents starve?"

Twisting together...

"Jeok Woon."

"Idiot."

"Young warrior."

"Brother."

"Son."

...

...

...

...

I...

"Jeok Woon."

...No.

"You, who lived your life as a dog guarding others’ gates."

Are you...

"Are you satisfied with that?"

---Are you satisfied with that?

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I pressed my hands against the floor and pushed myself up.

Blood surged backward through my body, spilling from my eyes. Black, murky blood.

It drenched my cheeks and pooled on the floor, veins bulging under my skin, pulsing as if they might burst at any moment.

My heart stopped. The rotten blood in my veins had ceased to flow.

But I struggled desperately.

Is this enough for you?

Is this all you're satisfied with, Jeok Woon?

A life lived hiding beneath the clouds.

A life spent serving others, no more than a dog attending its masters.

Are you content with that?

---No!

"That’s it. That’s exactly it."

Amid the cacophony of tangled memories, the voice of the Heavenly Demon—one I should not be able to hear—echoed.

I reached toward it.

I am a dog. A dog that’s spent its life licking the filth of others.

I know. I know all too well that I am talentless, that I was born with nothing.

So I justified it. I told myself I couldn’t do anything, and I lived, pushed along by the whims of others.

A commoner’s sword.

A commoner’s life.

A commoner’s fate.

I vomited my rotten blood onto that fate. I tore apart everything I had and spilled it over that miserable destiny.

Yes. Yes, damn it!

I am a commoner! Born as one and nearly destined to die as one!

And did I like it?

---It was wretched!

But not anymore. Not now.

I’ve been given a chance.

And now that I have it, I must act. Even if I want to die, I must endure.

I’ve spent my whole life wanting to die.

So when the time truly comes for me to die, I must live instead.

Paradoxically. Ironically!

I must!

With all my heart!

"The sword..."

I’ve always wanted to cut down this wretched, pitiful life of mine!

"The sword...!"

I leaned against the wall, only to collapse once.

But I got up. And fell again.

Each time I fell, I spat out blood. Hallucinations and reality merged, assaulting my senses.

"Jeok Woon."

Shut up!

"Young warrior."

Shut up!

"Son."

Shut up!

"Idiot."

Everyone...

All of you, shut up!!!

"Ughhhhhh!!!"

The world tightened its grip around me. I felt the rotten blood forcing my knees to buckle, trying to drag me down.

But I didn’t care. I am a commoner. A commoner about to shed my skin and become a beast.

I will not kneel. I stood and grabbed the door.

I walked.

I walked.

I had to walk.

I had to keep going... to keep living...

"Brother."

"......."

I turned around.

In the overlapping hallucinations, I could see my younger sister looking at me.

Her small hand tugged at my sleeve again, so weak I doubted if this was even real.

A tiny hand. A body shriveled and dry.

Yet she whispered in a gentle voice.

"It’s okay. You can go."

A voice that had always been on my side.

A voice that had always been so kind.

I didn’t respond. I turned my gaze away from the sister who had always clung to me.

I looked forward.

I let her hand slip away.

I... I, sister...

I could never fully care for you. Deep down, I was filled with nothing but disgusting selfishness.

I smiled, but at the same time, I wept. I acted unaffected, but inside, I was torn apart.

Sister, when I heard of your death, I thought my world was ending.

But the feeling that overtook me afterward wasn’t sorrow.

I... I felt...

---Relief.

"...Ahhh...!"

I howled like a beast.

Damn this selfishness!

Damn this wretched life of a commoner!

I am someone who doesn’t deserve to be cheered on! I only pretended to care for you because I had no other choice.

I... I always...

---Wanted to live for myself.

"Everyone... leave me alone..."

I will survive.

Not for my family.

Not for my sister.

For my selfish, hypocritical self.

To reach the Heavenly Demon who has captivated me.

For the first time...

For the dream I have seized for myself.

"...I... am..."

When the pain becomes unbearable, laugh. When you can’t take a step, crawl with your hands.

Lift the corners of your lips and chuckle. If your body can’t move, lie to yourself until you can.

It’s okay.

It’s okay.

Haven’t I told myself this countless times before?

"...Mine..."

I’ve lived a life pushed by others, filled with endurance. A selfish life built on lies I told myself.

So if I must, I’ll keep whispering those lies.

Endure.

Do what you’re best at.

"...Mine...!"

Grip the sword, Jeok Woon.

Grasp the exit from the wretched, suffocating life you’ve always dreamed of escaping.

Keep walking with whatever face you choose.

Walk and walk until you see the end with your own eyes...

"Give... me... the sword...!"

And only then, die.

Because I’m sick of dreaming.

. . .

On the seventh night, Ilma entered his room, sword in hand.

But the hand holding the sword didn’t move.

Frozen, she stared at his back as he sat, writing something.

"...How?"

"You’ve arrived."

His voice carried a slight excitement. He turned, his expression impassive, though it twisted slightly with every movement. Yet he kept moving.

"......."

Ilma noticed the faint wrongness in him but couldn’t comprehend it.

"Are you... enduring the pain of the Heavenly Tribulation?"

"Yes."

"How...?"

"I’m used to enduring."

A crooked smile appeared on his face.

Ilma unconsciously took a step back at the sheer intensity of it.

The atmosphere had changed.

The man before her...

Was he truly the same man she’d seen just days ago?

"I’ve endured my whole life. Why should I falter at just this one pain?"

No.

No, this wasn’t possible.

Ilma had witnessed countless warriors clawing for the Heavenly Tribulation, only to meet gruesome ends.

Even some of the most renowned masters had been driven to madness, plunging to their deaths from cliffs.

It wasn’t a pain a mere human could withstand.

And yet...

He was enduring it?

Ilma strode forward and forced his mouth open.

"...This..."

His tongue was completely mangled, barely recognizable. He had bitten it countless times, bearing the pain, scattering his focus.

And on his desk lay sheets of paper filled with a single word written in blood: endurance.

Page after page, torn and piled high.

A self-inflicted mantra. A madman’s act of will.

Ilma inspected his torn clothes and the flesh missing from his thighs. His body was a ruin, with barely a spot left intact.

All of it, no doubt...

Self-inflicted.

"You... what are you...?"

"I carried the Heavenly Tribulation with me, ate with it, walked through the garden with it."

Jeok Woon smiled faintly, speaking with his mangled tongue.

"Now, teach me how to wield a sword."

Relentless.

Ilma let out a hollow laugh.

The man before her had been born with nothing. A commoner whose hand had never wielded a sword properly.

Yet, she couldn’t deny it.

"...You madman."

The spirit he poured into that sword...

It was no longer something that could be called common.

"I’ll summon a healer. Get treated."

"I want to—"

"The training will come afterward."

Ilma turned her back.

"Fix your tongue first. If you’re to be the sect leader’s dog, I won’t allow you to carry yourself in such a disheveled state."

Whether he would become a good dog, she didn’t know.

But at least...

---She was certain he would become a dog that, once it bit down, would never let go.