Chapter 125: Random Bullshit Go

Jeon Woochi moved first. He flung a handful of loose pebbles from the cavern floor at Su Yao’s face. She blinked, and the Daoist lunged at the wall. Spinning sideways, he kicked off it and threw his discarded uniform jacket like a loose net.

Su Yao phased through the garment, reappearing behind him. “What style is this?”

“Random bullshit go.” He dropped and sweep his leg in a wide arc, kicking up a cloud of glowing fungus spores before rolling away.

The spores filled the air. Su Yao waved a hand to clear them. Jeon Woochi used the cover to pick up his officer’s hat. He flung it like a discus toward her head.

She caught it, the hat melting into a handful of black feathers in her grip. The feathers burst into white smoke.

“Interesting,” Malphas observed. “He isn’t using qi.”

Jeon Woochi pulled a small flask from his robe. He took a sip, then spat a stream of clear liquid into the air. It ignited into a brief fireball that forced Su Yao to duck low. The sharp smell of cheap soju filled the cavern.

“Are you a fighter or a street performer?” Su Yao asked. She dashed forward, her fist aiming for his center mass.

He met her charge by falling backward, scissoring his legs as he hit the ground. She leaped over them. The Daoist used the momentum of his fall to grab a stalactite that had broken loose and swung it like a club.

Su Yao blocked the rock with her forearm. It shattered against her skin. “Your technique lacks discipline.”

“Discipline is predictable.” He let the remnants of the stalactite fall and began hopping on one foot, then the other. “The commissar is not. Can you handle chaos?”

He charged again in a zigzag pattern, stumbling right into her personal space and headbutted her chin hard.

Su Yao’s head snapped back. She grinned, tasting blood on her lip. “Better.”

She grabbed for his robe. He slipped out of it like a greased eel, leaving her holding empty cloth and stood a few feet away in his undertunic. “You expect a form. What will you do when your enemy has none?”

He mimicked her earlier stance, then fell over. As she stepped closer, he kicked dirt at her eyes from the ground.

Su Yao phased again, appearing above him. She dropped, aiming a knee at his chest. He rolled, and her knee struck the soft fungus, sending up a puff of glowing dust.

“He is testing your adaptability,” Malphas called. “He is also wasting time, but it’s informative.”

Jeon Woochi got to his feet. He picked up two rocks of unequal size, juggling them. Then he threw one at her left shoulder and the other at a point three feet to her right.

Su Yao deflected the first rock. The second one hit the wall and rebounded, clipping her ear.

“You have a shitty aim.”

“Even Tezcatlipoca once tried to shoot someone in the heart and hit their head instead. Then he tried for the head and hit the heart.” He smiled. “I was aiming for the rebound.”

The Daoist charged again with a guttural yell and leaped into a flying kick. Su Yao prepared to catch his foot.

He pulled the kick and tucked into a ball, slamming his shoulder into her stomach instead.

The air left her lungs in a wheeze. She grabbed him by the back of his tunic and threw him across the cavern. He hit the wall and landed in a crouch.

“That should have kept you down,” she said.

“You’re still looking for a pattern.” He stood, brushing dust off his pants. “The commissar will not give you one. He will give you a bayonet charge infused with a thirteenth-century Moldavian curse. Can you fight the incomprehensible?”

Su Yao cracked her neck. “I can learn. Show me more of your random bullshit.”

Jeon Woochi nodded. He reached into a small pouch at his waist and pulled out a handful of sunflower seeds. He offered them to her. “A snack? For energy.”

She stared at the seeds. Then she laughed. “Now you’re just mocking me.”

“I’m proving a point.” He popped the seeds into his own mouth. “The point is, anything can be a weapon or a distraction. Are you ready?”

Su Yao caught his next charge, using his momentum to swing him toward the wall. “I was born ready.”

He twisted in her grip, planting his feet on the stone and pushing off. Then he flipped backward, landing in a crouch beside Malphas. “You learn quickly.”

“Yumi was wrong for calling you a Korean Seimei.” Su Yao circled him, her eyes tracking his hands. “You’re Korean Merlin. A mage who prefers melee because it’s faster, even though you have access to large-scale reality manipulation. I assume you have a Garden of Avalon too.”

Jeon Woochi shrugged. He snatched a handful of the glowing fungus from the wall and threw it. The spores sparkled between them. He paused, his eyes narrowing. Whatever her assumption was, he let it hang there.

“He does,” Malphas said. “But he defeated Fleurety without using it.”

Su Yao halted her advance. “He beat a great officer of hell without his ultimate technique? You’re that strong?”

“Fleurety was more a healer than a fighter.” Jeon Woochi brushed spores from his tunic. “A medical officer. Her strength was in mending what is broken.”

“Isn’t attacking a medical officer a war crime?” Su Yao asked.

“We were not at war.” Jeon Woochi retrieved his robe from the floor. “And she was conducting a forbidden experiment. She deserved it.”

“What did she do?”

“She tried teaching crabs to read.”

Su Yao stared. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have heard today.”

Malphas stepped forward. “Crabs are the ultimate lifeform. All complex life evolves toward the crab form through a process called carcinization. Fleurety believed literate crabs could ascend to a higher plane of existence. Her experiment was an abomination against natural order.”

Su Yao looked from the demon to the Daoist, who nodded.

“You beat up a hell-officer because she was running a crab literacy program,” Su Yao summarized.

“She was also using human souls as bookmarks,” Jeon Woochi added. “That part was less funny.”

He settled back into his loose stance. “The point remains. We have a battle to finish.”

Su Yao slipped off her right shoe. She flung it at Jeon Woochi’s head in an underhand toss.

He ducked. The shoe sailed past and smacked the cavern wall. “Good! Instinct makes you duck. American soldiers in the Great War would throw potatoes into German trenches. The Germans saw something arc through the air. They dove for cover, thinking it was a grenade. The potatoes gave the Americans seconds to change position or rush the trench. Even a shoe can be a weapon if it makes your enemy flinch.”

Jeon Woochi scooped up her shoe and threw it back. Su Yao caught it. She pulled off the left one. “So warfare is about throwing vegetables.”

“Warfare is about using whatever works,” Jeon Woochi said. “Your strength must be adaptable. Your mind must accept the potato.”

Su Yao threw both shoes at once in a wide spread. Jeon Woochi dropped flat to the ground. They thumped against the wall behind him. He rolled, then scattered a handful of pebbles across the floor between them. The clattering sound echoed.

“He is teaching you applied chaos theory,” Malphas said. She picked up one of Su Yao’s shoes and examined it. “The principle is sound. Against an enemy who expects grand sorcery, a simple rock can break his concentration.”

Su Yao stood barefoot on the fungus. “And if I run out of potatoes?”

“Go find a rock. Or a curse word shouted at the right moment.” Jeon Woochi stood, brushing off his pants. “You never run out of weapons, only imagination.”

He charged again, but this time Su Yao was ready. She grabbed a loose stone and hurled it at his knees. He hopped over it. She used his moment in the air to close the distance, her fist aiming for his solar plexus.

Jeon Woochi exhaled, taking the hit to grab her wrist. He used her own momentum to swing her toward the scatter of pebbles. “Slippery footing is also a potato.”

Su Yao twisted, breaking his grip. She landed, her feet skidding on the stones. She grinned. “I’m starting to like potatoes.”

“The commissar will not fight fair.” Jeon Woochi released her and stepped back, breathing harder now. “You must fight unfairly first.”

Su Yao stepped back and exhaled. The air around her shimmered, pulsing with internal energy. Three figures peeled away from her silhouette.

To her left, the Handmaiden of Nuwa stood with her hands clasped in offering.

A cup of phantom wine rested in the Hostess of the Eternal Banquet’s hand as she stood to Su Yao’s right.

Madam Li, the Jade Purity Maiden, held a blade of light between them.

“Three aspects,” Malphas said. “Three fighting styles. This is unfair. Good.”

Jeon Woochi bowed to each clone in turn. Then he clapped his hands once. Two more Jeon Woochi shimmered into existence beside him. One clone dissolved into a swirl of feathers and sharp cries, becoming a brown hawk that shot toward the cavern ceiling. The other melted into stripes and a low growl, resolving into a Siberian tiger that landed on the stone.

The hawk dove at the Handmaiden. She raised a hand and a shield of water bloomed from the damp air, deflecting its talons.

At the same time, the tiger lunged at the Hostess. She swirled aside, her silks fluttering. She flicked her wrist, and the phantom wine splashed toward the tiger’s eyes. It shook its head.

Madam Li charged the original Jeon Woochi. He met her blade of light with a pebble held in his palm. The pebble rang like a tiny bell.

Pulling at the Handmaiden’s hair with its claws, the hawk screeched. She turned the strands of her own hair into a binding net of light.

The Hostess poured another cup of wine from empty air. She offered it to the tiger. The beast paused, sniffing at the illusion.

“Can you command them independently?” The original Jeon Woochi pushed against the Jade Maiden’s blade. “Or do they share one mind?”

“They are all me,” Su Yao said. “We all share one goal.”

“Then you’re dividing your attention three ways,” Jeon Woochi said, sweeping the Maiden’s legs. She leaped over the strike. “A risk.”

The Handmaiden’s net caught the hawk’s leg. It dissolved back into a Jeon Woochi clone, who stumbled. Aiming for pressure points, the Hostess clone lunged at the recovering hawk-clone. The tiger spun and charged the Handmaiden.

“Now he tests their coordination,” Malphas said, leaning against the wall. “Can the defender become the attacker? Can the evader hold a line?”

The Jade Purity Maiden drove her blade down. Jeon Woochi rolled aside, and the light sword sparked against the stone. The tiger clone pounced at the Handmaiden. She caught its massive paw in her net of light, straining against its weight. The Hostess danced around the hawk-clone, aiming at its joints.

“Why are you commentating?” Su Yao asked. “This isn’t a sporting event.”

Malphas adjusted her head. “I’m making sure the audience is entertained, of course.”

The hawk-clone broke free from the Hostess’s grip, transforming back into a Jeon Woochi duplicate. It joined the original in a flanking maneuver against the Jade Maiden. “What audience?” Su Yao asked. The Handmaiden dissolved her net, letting the tiger stumble forward. She flowed into a new defensive stance.

“Our Lord and Savior Satan is always watching,” Malphas said.

The tiger clone froze in mid-lunge and the Jeon Woochi duplicates hesitated. Su Yao’s three clones flickered, their movements losing sync.

“Explain.” Su Yao’s clones stepped back, forming a triangle.

Malphas gestured upward. “My lord enjoys dramas of conflict. A fox hosting her own souls against a Daoist commanding animal forms? This is quality entertainment. I provide the narration.”

Jeon Woochi recalled his clones. They melted back into his single form. The tiger and hawk dissipated into motes of light. “He is watching now?”

“This corner of his domain is in rebellion.” Malphas smiled. “A new player arrives. Of course he is interested. Think of this as a job interview.”

Su Yao’s clones merged back into her single form. “I’m not applying for a position in hell.”

“You’re already in hell.” Malphas spread her hands. “And you’re fighting. That gets his attention. Continue, please. The commentary was for his benefit. I will stop if it bothers you.”

Su Yao looked at Jeon Woochi. He shrugged. “Random bullshit go includes infernal job interviews, apparently.”

“Fine.” Su Yao cracked her neck. “But if I get the job, my first act is abolishing performance reviews.”

“Technically, you’re already employed,” Malphas said. “This interview is merely a formality.”

Su Yao stared at her. “Employed by whom?”

“By the infernal hierarchy. The rule is simple. Whoever defeats one of the Six Great Officers assumes their position.” Malphas tilted her head. “You defeated Sargatanas in Beijing. Now you hold his title and responsibilities. The Daoist defeated Fleurety in Vladivostok. He holds hers. Congratulations, you’re both officers of Gehenna.”

The cavern grew colder. Jeon Woochi closed his eyes. He let out a long breath. “I wondered why the frost never left my shadow.”

“Liberating hell from the Bolshevik oppressors is now your responsibility,” Malphas continued. “Of course, the original officers never fulfilled their duties. They were too busy pursuing power in Assiah. So it does not matter much if you also decide to do nothing. The status quo of negligent nobility will simply continue.”

Su Yao looked at her hands. She thought of the purified mansion and the duct-taped peephole. “I didn’t kill Sargatanas. I just… inconvenienced him.”

“You bested him and forced his retreat. That counts.” Malphas shrugged. “The rules are old. They aren’t picky.”

Jeon Woochi opened his eyes. “And if we refuse the positions?”

“You can’t refuse. The mantle is already yours. You can merely neglect it, as your predecessors did.” Malphas gestured toward the distant sounds of battle. “The commissar is officially your problem now. You can ignore him. He will likely continue conquering districts until he controls all six seats. Then he will be the new governor and turn Gehenna into a people’s hell. How poetic.”

Su Yao started to laugh. “So I’m a consultant for the Empress and a bureaucrat for Satan. My resume is becoming absurd.”

“Welcome to management,” Malphas said. “Your first performance review is in five hundred years. Have this rebellion sorted by then.”

“Wait, your form is wrong,” Jeon Woochi said. He squinted at Malphas. “Your shadow does not match your stance. There is an illusion layered over you.”

He snapped his fingers. A ripple of dispelling energy washed over her, shattering the pristine image.

The left arm of the Malphas standing before them was gone below the shoulder, turning into a blackened stump pulsing with thick ichor. Massive gash tore open her torso, revealing glimpses of swirling dark smoke. Her face was cracked from temple to chin, fissures running across her skin.

“It’s just a scratch,” Malphas said. “I’m fine.”

“You’re missing an entire arm,” Su Yao said. “Your current state is awful. You should not be walking, let alone conscious.”

“Pain is a construct.” Malphas attempted to straighten. The movement made her stagger. Jeon Woochi caught her shoulder and eased her to sit on a rock.

He placed his hands over the stump of her arm and golden light emanated from his palms. The light sank into her flesh but nothing happened. The ichor continued its slow seep.

Su Yao knelt beside them, placing her hand over the gash in Malphas’s torso. She focused on rewinding the demon’s body to the moment before the injury. Her power slid off like water from stone.

“It does not work,” Su Yao said, pulling her hand back.

“Something is interfering with the healing,” Malphas explained. Her head leaned against the rock. “It’s as if the very concept of healing is gone here. Or it no longer applies to me. The wound exists as a permanent fact. We would need a specialist who can reapply the concept. Or someone who can perform a similar workaround.”

“Fleurety was such a specialist,” Jeon Woochi said.

“She is indisposed.” Malphas turned toward him. “The other option is Sitri. Her talents are… broader, more creative. She is currently detained in the commissar’s gulag. We would have to break her out, along with any other surviving nobility.”

She looked between their faces. “That is optional. You can choose to leave me here and face the commissar with just the two of you. I will understand.”

Jeon Woochi and Su Yao exchanged a look.

“We need your knowledge of the terrain,” Jeon Woochi said. “And your understanding of his tactics.”

“Strength lies in numbers,” Su Yao added. “Especially against an enemy who erases concepts. We will get your specialist.”

“In the cultivation world, those who break the rules are scum.” Jeon Woochi stood, wiping the golden light from his hands. “But those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.”

Malphas sighed. “Sentimental fools. Very well. The Gulag is east of here, past the trench lines. Try not to get shot. The bullets there hurt.”