Heavenly Demon Cultivation Simulation

Darkness.

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That was the first thing Seol-Hwi noticed after he died.

There was just enough light to judge his surroundings, but it was still
dark and humid all around.

It doesn’t seem like the road to the afterlife.

The space was less than a hundred square meters.
There was a bookshelf
to the side, and a crumbly-looking wall.
Right in the middle, there was
a hall of about thirty square meters.

What? The old training hall? Seol-Hwi’s brows raised when he saw the
white flagstones.
They looked familiar; upon investigation, he realized
it was the practice room at the back side of the main building.

“How is this…?” Seol-Hwi couldn’t help but laugh at the absurd
situation.

[空 : 0, 一 : 1, 二 : 2, 三 : 3, 四 : 4, 五 : 5, 六 : 6, 七 : 7, 八 :
8, 九 : 9]

[Addition: +, Subtraction: -, Multiplication: x]

Seol-Hwi’s mouth clicked shut.

Math stuff?

“I was dead…” But now he was alive.
He’d ambushed and run through with a
spear.
He could clearly recall his wounded arm and even the clothes he
was wearing, just like he could remember staying here before that
meeting…

“Was it a dream?”

No.
It was too realistic to be a dream.
The sights, the feeling of air
in his lungs, even the thoughts in his head.

This was beyond “realistic”…
it was safe to say he’d been revived.

“You’re here?”

Just as he was contemplating how and why he was here, he found a
long-haired man walking towards the training hall.

“…Jeok-Myung?” Seol-Hwi’s eyes narrowed.
The sight made his skin
crawl.

There was a brief silence.
And…

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“Kuak!” Seol-Hwi’s body bounced back.
Before he noticed, he’d been
struck by a fist.

“My hand slipped.” Jeok-Myung grinned at him, fist still clenched.

“You have to say “Captain”, Flying Faction Squad Leader.” Unlike
Seol-Hwi’s squad of six, this man led about 100 people: the Black Moon
squad, which reported directly to the Supreme Pavilion.

“Huak! Kack!” Seol-Hwi was in too much pain to respond.

“What? Beaten after one hit? You think you can treat me like this with
the few subordinates you have?”

Seol-Hwi’s eyes fluttered.

It wasn’t just the pain.

It was the situation.

He’d definitely experienced this before.

“—hand slipped.”

“Just one hit.
Cheeky bastard.”

“What? Beaten after one hit?”

One line was missing, so it couldn’t be said that the events matched
perfectly.
But it had started differently last time – it was like “What
is going on?”.

If I’m right, the next thing he’ll say is “If you don’t have skills,
your brain…”.

“If you don’t have the skills, learn to use your brain first.”

“…What is happening?” What the hell was this situation? How could he
remember things before they happened?

Seol-Hwi heaved his hurting body up and bowed politely to the other man.
There was no other way to make it stop.

“The Master of the Supreme Pavilion is calling.”

The same words! Goosebumps rose all over his body.
Every word spoken
right now matched what he had “experienced” in the past.

“What, can’t hear me?”

“I understand.” Seol-Hwi hurriedly shook his head.
In his memories, he

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got kicked again because of his late reply.

“And.” Jeok-Myung interrupted Seol-Hwi’s sigh of relief.
“I’ll give you
a piece of advice.”

“You’re lucky.”

Seol-Hwi froze.
Because it differed from his memory? No.

Strange words hovered over the head of Jeok-Myung.
That hadn’t happened
in the past.

He belonged to what was known as the “Mani Sect”.
In the past, it
worshipped Ahura-Mazzda and sought peace and harmony as much as the
Buddha Sect.

But now, they obeyed the right of might.
Few incidents happened in the
sect, because so long as orders were followed—Of course, that excluded
people like Seol-Hwi.

There were some definite advantages of this sect over normal ones.
The
sect used demonic martial arts.
It was known that normal martial artists
could rise to “First Rate” after honing their skills for at least a
decade, but students of the Mani Sect could do it in just three years.
It was said that quite a few reached the peak of martial arts before the
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