Childhood Friend of the Zenith-Chapter 667: My Name Is... (1)

As our eyes met, time seemed to stand still. I steadied my breath, hiding the unease coursing through my body.

‘Why?’

Why is that here?

The figure waved lightly, as if to greet me. Violet-tinged hair shimmered under the sunlight, complemented by brighter, luminous eyes. Her striking appearance reminded me of someone else entirely.

It was the same image I had seen before heading to the Northern Sea.

If this was no illusion...

‘Why is she here?’

Why is she in this place?

I had to find out.

‘I was already looking for her.’

Cheonma (Heavenly Demon).

I knew she was in Henan. I had already encountered her once and had instructed others to gather more information about her.

This was the second task I had entrusted to Pildu-ma.

But.

‘There wasn’t much information.’

The intelligence Pildu-ma provided had been of poor quality.

Of course, I wasn’t relying solely on him—I had others digging as well.

Even so.

‘It wasn’t any different.’

The information on Cheonma in Henan was frustratingly sparse.

Had she gone into hiding, aware that someone was trailing her? Or perhaps she had already left Henan altogether?

Even with the Shadow King’s network in motion, the lack of details led me to believe one of these scenarios was true.

But now...

‘She’s been here all along, out in the open.’

Cheonma hadn’t left Henan.

Nor had she gone into hiding.

Had she left and returned? Possible, but unlikely. The Cheonma I knew wasn’t the type to flee.

So, what’s most important now?

‘Can I kill her?’

Can I kill Cheonma here and now?

When I first encountered her in that quiet noodle ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) shop, I couldn’t.

What about now?

I had regained the peak of my past life’s power.

I could now easily eliminate guardians or elders from prestigious families in a one-on-one fight.

This wasn’t arrogance but an objective assessment of my abilities.

Unless I was up against one of the Ten Great Masters of Zhongyuan, I wouldn’t lose.

‘And Cheonma’s level?’

I recalled the time we clashed at Shinryong Hall.

Back then, she was strong enough to toy with me as if I were nothing.

If her strength was still the same, I would lose.

So, should I back down?

A low, resonant hum filled my ears as I deliberated.

Giiiing—!

Rationality told me to retreat, but my body had already begun to prepare for battle.

Thrum. The demonic energy inside me stirred violently.

What had I endured all this time for? Would I let this opportunity slip away?

The demonic energy growled at me, baring its metaphorical fangs, urging me forward.

As my heart pounded wildly, I was just about to leap into action when—

“Young Master.”

“...!”

The voice beside me snapped me back to reality.

“What’s wrong?”

I had momentarily forgotten who was standing next to me.

Moyong Hee-ah’s concerned question brought me back to my senses.

There was someone I needed to protect here.

I couldn’t act recklessly.

Could I fight Cheonma while ensuring Moyong Hee-ah’s safety?

I wasn’t certain.

And that uncertainty forced me to be cautious.

“Ah.”

Noticing where my gaze had drifted, Moyong Hee-ah stepped closer.

“So, you know her too, Young Master?”

Her words made me frown.

‘Too?’ What does she mean by too?

I turned to her, seeking clarification.

“She’s someone Sword Phoenix brought in,” Moyong Hee-ah said casually.

“...What?”

Her words made me freeze.

“Who brought her?”

“...Are you talking about my sister?”

“Yes, your sister.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that it was hard to process.

“Your sister came by a few days ago and asked us to give her a job.”

I could hear the words, but it took time for them to sink in.

Because they made no sense.

“She’s a martial artist and apparently quite skilled. Since we were recruiting for the escort bureau today, we decided to include her. But you seem to know her too, Young Master?”

“...”

So, Gu Heebi not only brought Cheonma here but also arranged for her to be included in the escort bureau?

‘What kind of madness is this?’

I had no idea what was going on anymore.

Everything about this situation was incomprehensible.

“...Hey.”

“Yes?”

Despite the confusion, something felt off, and I needed to confirm it.

I gestured toward Cheonma in the distance.

“What does she look like to you?”

“What?”

Moyong Hee-ah frowned, clearly baffled by the odd question.

But perhaps sensing I had a reason for asking, she glanced at Cheonma and described her.

“She’s a woman. Petite, with black hair.”

“Be more specific.”

Even though my question sounded strange, I had to ask.

This wasn’t just about Cheonma’s presence here—it was about Moyong Hee-ah’s reaction.

“Her hair is black, her eyes are dark, and her skin looks slightly tanned. Do you want me to describe her features too?”

“No, that’s enough.”

Her description confirmed my suspicions.

Something wasn’t right.

“What’s wrong?” Moyong Hee-ah asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

I couldn’t answer her immediately.

Because—

‘She didn’t mention that she looks exactly like Wi Seol-ah.’

Anyone could see it.

Cheonma’s features were identical to Wi Seol-ah’s, save for her hair and eye color. They could easily be mistaken for twins.

And yet, Moyong Hee-ah made no mention of this.

Moreover—

‘Her description feels... off.’

The hair was black, yes, but it wasn’t entirely black—it carried a faint violet hue.

And the eyes weren’t truly dark.

As for her skin...

‘Calling that “slightly tanned” is just absurd.’

Her skin was pale, almost ghostly white.

There was no way anyone would describe it as tanned.

So why did Moyong Hee-ah describe her like that?

If I were to think of a reason, it would likely be:

‘Her perception is being altered.’

Moyong Hee-ah wasn’t seeing Cheonma the same way I was.

‘Is it the same for everyone else here?’

Was it only Moyong Hee-ah? Or were the others here also perceiving her differently?

Or perhaps—

‘Are my eyes the ones that are wrong?’

Could it be that Moyong Hee-ah’s perception was correct, and my eyes were deceiving me?

The thought crossed my mind, but I trusted my own judgment.

No, it wasn’t my eyes I trusted—it was the energy within me.

I continued to stare at Cheonma.

She didn’t shy away from my gaze, meeting it directly.

Her expression was... oddly vacant.

It was a far cry from the arrogant, condescending gaze I remembered from my past life.

She looked the same, but her demeanor was so different that she felt like an entirely different person.

As I watched her, swallowing my unease, time stretched on.

Finally, I made my decision.

I turned to Moyong Hee-ah and spoke.

“...What do we start with?”

Whatever this strange feeling was, I needed to confirm its source.

For now, I would watch and wait.

******************

There were just over thirty candidates, and I needed to select seven.

That was the task Moyong Hee-ah had given me.

“Only seven, right?”

“Exactly. Choose as you see fit.”

“So, I can pick however I want?”

As I listened to her explanation, my gaze wandered.

It landed on a woman leaning against a tree with a vacant expression: Cheonma.

Her presence here and her intentions unnerved me.

These thoughts lingered in my mind as I began walking forward.

The moment I stepped ahead, the eyes of the gathered candidates turned toward me.

Their expressions weren’t pleasant.

The wait had clearly been long, and irritation was written all over their faces.

Still, the prospect of something finally happening seemed to rekindle some interest.

“You there.”

I pointed at one of the men in the group.

Before he could even question me, I announced,

“You’re in.”

“...What?”

“You’re accepted,” I repeated curtly.

The man blinked in surprise, his confusion obvious.

Without waiting for a reaction, I waved him off. “Step aside.”

Though he still looked puzzled, he complied and moved out of the way without complaint.

The man I had picked was the second strongest here—excluding Cheonma.

With one chosen, I turned my attention back to the group and began pointing people out.

“The guy on the left—out. The one with the ponytail next to him—also out.”

“Out. Out. Out. You’re all out.”

I disqualified people in rapid succession, whittling the group down to just over ten in less than half an hour.

Among them, only eleven had been shortlisted; the rest were dismissed.

Satisfied with my preliminary selections, I nodded.

“This should be good enough for the first round of—”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

A loud voice interrupted me.

I turned to see who it was.

It was one of the stronger candidates, an older man with a long scar running down his face.

“What kind of nonsense is this?” he demanded, his anger palpable.

He was clearly furious, his voice echoing across the clearing.

His level?

‘Fully matured at the peak stage.’

He was the kind of person who would be treated with respect anywhere he went.

Among the group here, he was the strongest—aside from Cheonma—and he had been the first person I disqualified.

I tilted my head slightly at him.

“What’s your problem?”

“Excuse me?”

My nonchalant response only made him angrier.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“What exactly is bothering you?”

His voice rose as he replied, barely containing his rage.

“We’ve been waiting here in this scorching heat for over two hours! And then some nobody shows up and starts disqualifying people without explanation? Do you think anyone would be okay with that?”

A faint laugh escaped my lips.

“Didn’t you hear what the branch leader said? I can do as I please.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

Boom!

The man unleashed a burst of energy, creating a gust that rippled through the clearing.

“Ugh!”

“Damn!”

The sudden display of power startled the others, particularly the first person I had accepted.

He seemed to realize immediately that the man was far stronger than himself.

It made sense for him to be confused—why had someone so powerful been disqualified?

“Do you have any idea who I am? You think a brat like you can decide my fate?”

His outburst seemed to embolden the others who had been disqualified.

“Yeah! Who does this kid think he is, deciding who gets in or out?”

“Has the Baekhwa Trading Company gone mad? Letting someone like him judge us?”

The atmosphere grew increasingly chaotic.

Even some of the accepted candidates looked displeased, their expressions betraying unease.

‘They don’t like being judged by someone they don’t know.’

Martial artists of Zhongyuan were obsessed with honor and reputation.

Instead of simply accepting their selection, they had to nitpick everything.

‘What a pain.’

The scarred man noticed the tide of opinion turning in his favor and smirked despite his anger.

“I never thought the Baekhwa Trading Company would treat us like this. Branch Leader, is this really your intent?”

“...”

Moyong Hee-ah remained silent, her expression unreadable as she watched me.

It was clear she expected me to handle this.

Seeing that, I rolled my shoulders slightly, loosening my muscles.

“I came here expecting to be treated well, but this... This is disgraceful—”

“People like you are always the biggest problem,” I interrupted, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“...What?”

“Loudmouths who bring nothing to the table but complaints. And the fools who follow them are just as bad.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously at my words, his anger reaching a boiling point.

“Are you seriously suggesting—”

“If you’re out, there’s a reason. Take the hint and leave.”

“You insolent brat...!”

The air grew thick with killing intent as his energy surged again.

Guoooo!

It was a heavy, oppressive aura befitting someone at the peak stage.

“I suggest you mind your manners, boy,” he growled. “The Baekhwa Trading Company may be powerful, but my sword is closer to you than their authority.”

A veiled threat of violence.

His sword began to glimmer with killing intent, the energy wrapped around it like a coiled snake.

I nodded inwardly, acknowledging his strength.

He wasn’t bad—someone at his level wouldn’t typically be disqualified.

In fact, if there weren’t any issues, I would’ve accepted him outright.

If there weren’t any issues.

“So, what? You’re going to draw your sword and start a fight? How terrifying,” I said mockingly.

“You—!”

His face twisted with rage, and his sword arm twitched, ready to strike.

“Typical Martial Alliance thugs,” I continued. “Always so quick to draw a blade. You’re no better than common bandits.”

“...!”

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His words caught in his throat, and his eyes trembled slightly.

“You call yourselves righteous while the roots of your so-called justice rot away. No wonder the world is such a mess.”

“You dare—!”

His anger boiled over, but I sighed.

There was a simple reason he had been disqualified.

He was affiliated with the Martial Alliance.

“Dare? Please.”

I stepped forward, and the world seemed to shift.

Suddenly, I was right in front of him.

“What the—!”

He tried to react, his sword arm moving instinctively, but I was faster.

Crack!

I grabbed his wrist and crushed the bones in his hand.

“Ahhh—!”

Before he could scream properly, I drove my knee into his legs.

Snap!

He crumpled to the ground with a guttural cry, kneeling before me.

“You’re far too full of yourself,” I said coldly.

Then, with a single strike to the back of his head, I knocked him unconscious.

Thud.

The peak-stage martial artist collapsed onto the ground, motionless.

The clearing fell silent, the oppressive tension gone.

I glanced around. Everyone was staring at me, mouths agape.

I grabbed the unconscious man and tossed him aside casually.

Whistle—Thud!

He landed somewhere in the bushes with a dull thump.

“So,” I said, dusting off my hands.

“Anyone else have a problem?”

“...”

“...”

No one dared to speak.

Finally. Peace.