Descent Of The Demon Master [EN]: Chapter 1340

Negotiate (4)

Kang Jin-ho rose from his seat.

Then, he slowly began to walk forward, towards Chen Hui.

The guards, with cold expressions, blocked Kang Jin-ho’s path.

“Step aside.”

Kang Jin-ho looked at those who had blocked him. A deep smile still lingered on his face.

“No, don’t be rude…”

“Are you…”

Kang Jin-ho cut off Chen Hui’s words with a concise statement.

“Soldiers?”

Those who didn’t understand what Kang Jin-ho’s question meant kept their mouths shut. Even if they knew what Kang Jin-ho’s words implied, they were not allowed to answer.

That’s what soldiers are.

“If you were martial artists, you’d be dead by now. But since you’re soldiers, I can give you a chance. Step aside. Then I’ll let you live.”

A martial artist is someone who decides their own path.

But a soldier is someone who follows orders.

There’s no need to be angry at those who carry out orders. Just because a hand holds a sword and commits murder doesn’t mean the hand is guilty.

The soldiers stared at Kang Jin-ho with stiff faces.

Their job is to follow orders. No matter what the other party says, they cannot waver.

“Step aside.”

Kang Jin-ho quietly looked at them.

Even though he wasn’t particularly threatening, those blocking his path felt an unprecedented pressure.

A feeling like something was tightening around their necks.

Even though they knew they shouldn’t move, their hands kept trying to reach for their necks.

Kang Jin-ho quietly observed them.

Thump.

Kang Jin-ho reached out and grabbed the neck of the person blocking his path.

*Gasp!*

Even though the movement was clearly visible, strangely, it couldn’t be avoided. The person whose neck was grabbed stiffened like a log.

Even while seeing their comrade being attacked, those standing beside him couldn’t move.

They had already received orders when they came here.

Never attack first.

Never go against Kang Jin-ho’s wishes.

The soldiers glanced back with flustered expressions. Even Chen Hui seemed at a loss.

“You don’t understand.”

Kang Jin-ho glared coldly at the soldier whose neck he held.

It had started as an order, but now it was his own will. Kang Jin-ho wasn’t kind enough to consider those who couldn’t understand, even after being told.

“Kuh…!”

The soldier whose neck was grabbed twisted his body, struggling in vain.

Crack.

A gruesome sound of bones breaking echoed, and the body of the man went limp.

The faces of those who witnessed it hardened like stones in an instant.

Thud.

The person who had fallen to the floor was called a human just moments ago, but now could only be called a corpse. The air rapidly grew heavy.

There wasn’t a single person here who hadn’t killed someone. Only human trash, desensitized to the act of murder, the most unforgivable act, was qualified to be in this place.

But even for them, the current scene was shocking.

Breaking a neck?

That wasn’t the issue. It was the casualness of it.

When a person kills another, there is usually some resistance, some hesitation. No matter how accustomed to killing one is, unless they are sniping from a distance or spraying bullets, taking the life of someone who can’t resist right in front of them is more difficult than one might think. There’s a weight to it.

But Kang Jin-ho didn’t have any of that. For him, killing a person was no different than opening the refrigerator to take something out. It was an act devoid of emotion or hesitation.

They looked the same, but this man was fundamentally different from them. He was operating on a different plane of existence.

Thud.

Kang Jin-ho stepped over the fallen man and approached Chen Hui. Those who had stood in his way with such vigor didn’t dare to stop him. They were frozen like statues, their bodies refusing to obey their minds.

‘If I move, I’ll die.’

They knew it instinctively. It wasn’t just about trying to stop Kang Jin-ho. If they tried to do anything now, Kang Jin-ho would not distinguish their intentions and would simply make them pay the price by breaking their necks. It was a certainty.

Knowing this, their bodies wouldn’t move. They weren’t afraid of throwing themselves into death. If ordered, they could even cut off their own heads and offer them up. That was the assessment they had made of themselves, not others. But blocking this man’s path required something more than simply risking one’s life. That unknown something gripped their ankles like chains, holding them in place.

Step, step.

Kang Jin-ho calmly walked past them and approached Chen Hui.

Chen Hui’s face turned pale.

“What did you say?”

Kang Jin-ho bared his teeth and smiled, a chilling expression that sent shivers down the spines of those watching.

“You investigated me?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“…Y-yes…” Chen Hui stammered, his face paling further.

“What did you investigate?” Kang Jin-ho pressed, taking a step closer.

“My life?” he continued, his eyes glinting with a predatory light.

Step.

“Or my status?”

Step.

“Did you even check my situation?”

It was a meaningless act, he thought, a futile attempt to understand him through superficial details.

Being the head of the General Assembly, the chairman of MK [likely referring to a large corporation], having close ties with the Korean government, being a martial artist who could shake the world, and earning the name of a Four Kings, equal to China’s Three Kings [referring to powerful martial artists or figures of influence].

All of that was useless in explaining Kang Jin-ho. These were just labels, not the essence of the man.

“You should have known,” Kang Jin-ho said, his voice laced with a hint of mockery.

At least if you were going to try to negotiate with Kang Jin-ho, he thought, you should have done your homework.

“What kind of person I am.” Step.

Kang Jin-ho stopped right in front of Chen Hui, their faces inches apart. The air crackled with tension.

Only then did Chen Hui realize the gravity of his miscalculation. The realization hit him like a physical blow.

‘This guy isn’t like a wolf,’ Chen Hui thought, his mind racing.

Wolves move by instinct. They are driven by hunger and the primal desire to survive. They hunt to eat and act to live, their actions dictated by basic needs.

But Kang Jin-ho is not a wolf. He is something else entirely, something far more dangerous.

That’s why he doesn’t simply move according to profit or self-preservation. He is driven by something deeper, something that can be easily provoked into a terrifying rage. And he gets angry, Chen Hui realized with dawning horror.

Chen Hui’s misstep was not knowing that fact, not understanding the true nature of the man he was dealing with.

“I, I can’t be,” Chen Hui stammered, his voice trembling, his eyes wide with fear. He desperately clung to the hope of survival.

Chen Hui forced his mouth open, his voice a desperate plea. “I am not the main player. I am just a messenger. But if you kill me, this negotiation will fall apart, and you won’t be able to return alive! You, you mustn’t kill me.”

“I know,” Kang Jin-ho replied in an emotionless voice, his eyes like chips of ice.

“P-please, think rationally! You are…” Chen Hui pleaded, his voice cracking.

“It seems you don’t know…” Kang Jin-ho interrupted, his voice dangerously calm.

“…Yes?” Chen Hui asked, his voice barely a whisper, his heart pounding in his chest.

Kang Jin-ho bared his teeth again, a predatory grin that sent a chill down Chen Hui’s spine.

“I am being perfectly rational right now,” Kang Jin-ho said, his voice devoid of any emotion. Chen Hui’s eyes wavered, his mind struggling to comprehend the implications of those words.

This? This was rationality?

“Do I look like I’ve lost my mind in anger?” Kang Jin-ho asked, his voice a low growl, his eyes burning into Chen Hui’s soul.

Kang Jin-ho reached out and grabbed Chen Hui by the collar, pulling him close.

“No.”

“People have lines they don’t cross. I’m just sticking to what I’ve decided. Anyone who crosses my line doesn’t live. And you crossed it. That’s why I’m going to kill you. How’s that? Isn’t that rational enough?”

Just as Chen Hui was about to speak, Kang Jin-ho cut him off.

“You’ve probably saved your life with that silver tongue of yours until now. You’ve used that tongue to manipulate and ruin countless people. So, I’ll give you a chance. I’m going to break your body, piece by piece, and then finally your head. Until then, try to convince me. Figure out what you need to say to make me change my mind.”

There was no warning.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Kang Jin-ho stomped on Chen Hui’s foot, which was still on the ground.

Crack.

The sound of bones shattering was chilling. But before that sound could even register, Chen Hui’s ear-splitting scream drowned out everything else.

“Aaaaaaah!”

“You shouldn’t have time to scream, should you?”

Crack.

The other foot was crushed. Chen Hui trembled.

Only after losing both feet did Chen Hui realize that Kang Jin-ho was serious. But his pain-filled mind couldn’t come up with a suitable excuse.

“Think.”

The shin bone broke.

A person’s bones snapped and crumpled like dry twigs.

The unimaginable pain made Chen Hui’s eyes roll back and his body convulse.

“Think. Tell me why I should let you live. I’m desperately trying to find a reason myself. But no matter how much I think….”

Crack.

The knee twisted backward.

“I can’t find a reason why I should let you live.”

If Chen Hui had just pointed a gun at Kang Jin-ho’s head, he might have walked away unscathed. If he had set a trap and injured Kang Jin-ho, he might have lived.

But Chen Hui had crossed the line.

Even Hong Wang and Cai Kechang wouldn’t have dared to touch Kang Jin-ho. No one wanted to deal with a rampaging tiger.

But Chen Hui didn’t know that.

It was too late, but Chen Hui was desperately trying to find a way to turn the situation around.

A torrent of words, mixed with screams, poured out like gibberish.

But those words didn’t reach Kang Jin-ho’s ears.

“Make it clear.”

Crack.

The thigh bone broke. No, it was crushed.

Chen Hui’s mouth was wide open, but he couldn’t even scream as he convulsed. Blood vessels in his eyes burst, turning them a dark red in an instant. The blood mixed with tears and streamed down his face.

He desperately tries to explain and persuade, but it was all in his head. Only a strange, unintelligible scream bursts from his mouth. He screams, then trembles, then mutters incomprehensible words.

Kang Jin-ho stared at Chen Hui, who had completely lost his mind, with emotionless eyes.

“I, I… me… me…”

For the first time, Chen Hui uttered something coherent.

Kang Jin-ho listened to those words and gently took one of Chen Hui’s hands. The moment their hands touched, Chen Hui’s body convulsed. He knew what was about to happen.

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Chen Hui’s right hand was completely crushed as if it had been pressed in a press. Crushed bones fell out from between the torn flesh.

“They, they… you’re in danger…”

“Wrong.”

A careless hand grips Chen Hui’s shoulder.

“But I found it. The reason why I should let you live.”

A light returns to Chen Hui’s eyes.

Crack.

But that light was crushed along with his shoulder. Kang Jin-ho, having completely shattered both of Chen Hui’s arms, pulls Chen Hui up to his face.

Chen Hui, limp like a boneless animal, looked utterly grotesque.

“Tell them clearly. You will pay the price for touching me. This won’t be the end of it. Show them with that body, and tell them with that mouth, what happens to those who touch me. So they know clearly.”

Kang Jin-ho released the hand he was holding.

Thud.

Chen Hui’s body fell to the floor, convulsing.

“You must have climbed this far with your head and that mouth.”

Kang Jin-ho, who had been quietly watching Chen Hui, spoke as if making a declaration.

“Now you’ll really live by your head and mouth alone. Maybe that’ll be more comfortable for you.”

“Ah… ahh… ah…”

Chen Hui convulsed, understanding what Kang Jin-ho’s words meant.

Both his arms and legs were crushed. No matter how much he was treated, he would never regain his original form.

“K, kill me…”

“No.”

Kang Jin-ho grinned, revealing his teeth.