So? Did Someone Force You to Become the Heavenly Demon? Chapter 38 : Obsessive Compulsion

Chapter 38: Obsessive Compulsion

When I really thought about it, this was way more serious than the nightmare had suggested.

The fact that my obsessive-compulsive symptoms targeted martial arts, not just handwriting, was especially concerning.

Perfecting one's handwriting?

While standards of 'perfection' vary from person to person, most people have an ideal writing style in their minds.

From my modern perspective, it's like aiming for the precision of standard computer fonts—like Gulim, Batang, or Gungsuh.

Achieving that level of precision would require considerable effort, but—

'Compared to martial arts, that's nothing more than child's play.'

The Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword, in particular, had an impossibly high ceiling.

The Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword consisted of twenty-two forms and I’d only mastered fourteen of them. Yet its simplicity was deceptive.

Each form of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword was closer to concepts rather than clearly defined movents.

Let’s take a look at the first form of the Demonic Art, the Soul-Departing Sword. It was a simultaneous offensive and defensive maneuver, executed when drawing the sword to strike or block a surprise attack.

The concept itself was the Soul-Departing Sword.

It doesn’t matter if I step back and swing horizontally as I draw my sword, or thrust forward as I advance. Both were the Soul-Departing Sword. The sword departed from the sheath to sever the enemy’s neck, hence soul-departing.

The sa principle applied to Soul-Cutting Flash and Soul-Guiding Sword.

Soul-Cutting Flash was a concise and rapid thrust, but thrusting itself could be aid at the opponent’s head, their feet, or their heart.

Although classified as the sa thrust, the detailed movents were fundantally different. A thrust aid high at the head differed fundantally from one aid low at the feet. Thus, a single Soul-Cutting Flash could manifest in dozens, even hundreds of variations, depending on its application.

Then there was the Soul-Guiding Sword which started from the sa stance as the Soul-Cutting Flash but was slower in movent. It was a technique aid at creating openings by changing the sword's path mid-thrust and exploiting that very opening.

The Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword wasn't about fixed movents but rather taught concepts about thrusting, cutting, and defense, allowing each form to be applied in dozens of different variations.

The real issue lay in the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword's true essence, its ultimate goal.

The Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword was a sword style where all forms flowed continuously, gradually cornering the opponent and draining their spirit.

Fourteen stances, each with countless variations, had to flow seamlessly into one another, regardless of order.

Taking all that into account, the number of possible combinations exceeded tens of thousands.

And I was to make all of that perfect.

'This is a perfect recipe for madness.'

It made wonder if the side effect was actually a feature, not a bug. By forcing an obsessive pursuit of perfection, it drove practitioners to master this unreasonable Demonic Art through sheer, compulsive, madness-fueled dedication.

But the philosophy behind the art wasn't the big issue right now.

The problem was my growing mastery of it.

"Ha."

Hours bled into one another in a blur of motion. By the ti I stopped, my limbs trembled with exhaustion.

"Are you alright, Young Master?"

Jin Hayeon, who had been observing, spoke as I finally ceased my practice.

"I should rest for today."

"That's a wise decision. It's already past the Hour of the Pig (9-11 PM). You should rest for tomorrow."

After saying this, Jin Hayeon prepared warm water for my bath.

After a refreshing shower and a soothing soak, a wave of exhaustion washed over my body which had been swinging the sword for hours under obsessive compulsion. My whole body scread at to collapse onto the bed and pass out imdiately.

"..."

But as I entered my room, I froze.

I can’t think of what I’m supposed to do in my current situation.

My body craved the bed, but my gaze remained fixed on a certain spot.

—I need to write in my diary before sleeping.

—It's part of my daily routine

—I need to perfect my handwriting.

It was like a little voice was whispering that stuff in the back of my head.

* * *

Early the next morning.

Jin Hayeonz asked with her usual stoic expression as she brought my breakfast.

"Are you alright, Young Master? You look exhausted.”

As she said, I felt like I was dying from exhaustion. It must have been visible on my face.

"I didn't get enough sleep last night."

I had tried to ignore the diary and sleep. I even managed to drag myself to bed. However—

‘Thoughts of unfinished tasks kept appearing in my mind, making it impossible to fall asleep.’

In the end, I gave up and could only fall asleep after writing in my diary.

It was a torturous experience.

—This motherfucker Demonic Art!

—I’m dying of exhaustion, yet why the fuck am I writing in this damned diary at this hour?

—My hands kept shaking, my writing looked dog shit! Motherfucker, I need to fix this!

—Sleep, you bastard! SLEEEEP!

I was using my diary to complain about the Demonic Art's side effect, but the only reason I was writing in the first place was the side effect.

The irony was maddening. I barely managed to sleep after furiously writing like a madman for hours.

And now I had woken up after barely four hours of sleep.

Jin Hayeon listened to my whole story, then she furrowed her delicate brow for a second and ca up with sothing completely out of left field.

"Why don't you ask Warrior Kwan about this?"

"Warrior Kwan?"

She was referring to Kwan Mu-yeol, one of my two recently assigned bodyguards.

However, I couldn't understand why he was being brought up here.

Responding to my confusion, Jin Hayeon answered in her characteristically blunt manner.

“From what I know, Warrior Kwan also practices Demonic Art with side effect similar to yours.”

"!!!"

"His level is also higher than yours, so he probably knows so ways to control the side effect."

"That's a brilliant idea!"

It felt like a lifeline had been thrown down while the sky was falling.

I quickly summoned Kwan Mu-yeol to my room.

"Is there a problem?" Kwan Mu-yeol asked in a tone as stoic as Jin Hayeon's, and I briefly explained what had happened last night and about the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword before asking.

"I heard from Miss Jin that you also experience similar side effect. Is that true?"

"Though slightly different, I do suffer from an obsessive compulsion."

"How do you cope with them?"

In response to my question, Kwan Mu-yeol frowned and countered.

"Since the side effect helps you improve with the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword, is there really a need to think about it so negatively?"

This was typical thinking for those obsessed with martial arts.

Actually, he had a point.

Being a perfectionist isn't always a bad thing. The compulsion was stressful, yes, but the sense of accomplishnt from a perfectly completed task was imnse.

'It was the sa when I was practicing the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword yesterday.'

Whenever I felt sothing was off, I'd obsessively practice to fix it, but it wasn't pure torture.

That's why I beca more deeply imrsed in the sword, and why the obsessive symptoms worsened.

But I didn't want to live like that. My dream was to laze and feast, not grind myself into madness.

But since I couldn't reveal my dream here, I decided to subtly push my justification.

“Look, martial arts is a long road, correct? Overdoing it for fast gains just leaves you useless the next day. There's a need to know when to start and when to stop.”

Seemingly convinced by my logic, Kwan Mu-yeol pondered for a mont before saying, "The simplest thod is to create a conflicting compulsion."

"???"

Seeing my confusion, he elaborated. "Miss Jin told you were already very strict with your daily schedule, even before the side effect appeared."

"..."

It hit then that what felt totally normal for a student cramming for exams must look like a full-blown obsession to everyone else.

"If you develop a true compulsion with that schedule, it will prevent you from excessive training. The satisfaction of adhering to the schedule will conflict with the guilt of interrupting training, allowing you to stop, albeit with so unease."

He spoke as if recounting a personal experience.

‘Fight poison with poison, huh?’

Using compulsion to block compulsion—it sounded absurd, but also sowhat plausible.

Especially since the person saying this was speaking from experience.

Though I had gained so useful information, I still had questions, so I asked Kwan Mu-yeol further.

"What if that fails? What if external circumstances prevent you from fulfilling your compulsion?"

As I asked, a specific example ca to mind.

"Like our trip to Kuqa and Hejing Counties. My injury prevented from training, as Master instructed.”

Kwan Mu-yeol's expression soured at the mory.

His previous fussiness now made sense. It wasn't because he was a hardass, but a manifestation of his deeper obsession.

More precisely, it was the self-loathing that ca from not being able to perfectly follow Master's instructions. And the fact that I was the cause of that self-loathing.

'This isn't just his problem anymore.'

What if I were in the middle of one of my sword-swinging fits, and soone ca in, tied up, and took my sword away?

'While I might be fine now, once my level increases, I might foam at the mouth and have a seizure.'

When this thought occurred to , my impression of Kwan Mu-yeol changed.

‘He actually endured that.’

If it were , I'd have likely dragged him out to train or rampaged like Eldest Brother.

I never would have gotten it before, but now that I had a taste of this obsession, I could finally understand him a little.

It reminded of stories I'd heard in modern tis, tales of CEOs from major foreign companies known for their perfectionism who acted like psychopaths toward their colleagues and subordinates.

I used to just think those guys were assholes, but now that I'm dealing with this compulsion, I see it differently. They probably acted that way because if they didn't, the pressure would have made them snap.

However, that didn't an I wanted to beco like them. That's why Kwan Mu-yeol's coping chanism intrigued . How did he deal with the crushing guilt of failing to satisfy his compulsions?

He t my hopeful gaze, grimaced, and thought about it for a good long while before he finally answered.

"When the guilt becos unbearable... I punish myself."

For so reason, Kwan Mu-yeol's face flushed red and a dreamy expression showed on his face.

"!?"

That creepy sight conjured a disturbing scene in my mind.

The image of Kwan Mu-yeol crying out, 'I'm a bad boy! Please punish !' while a woman holding a whip stood over him.

'Damn. The Demonic Cult is truly demonic after all.'

Despite his seemingly normal facade, he was a demonic cultivator through and through.

"And recently... Ah. Never mind."

Kwan Mu-yeol started to say sothing else, then hesitated and dodged the question.

"There's a new thod I've been trying, but it's not yet reliable. I'll share it later."

"...I understand."

For so reason, it felt like I was about to see sothing that would scar my pure mind, so I wisely gave up on pressing the issue.

* * *

While the last part wasn't very helpful, I still gained sothing from the conversation with Kwan Mu-yeol.

'Endure with conflicting obsessions.'

By obsessing over my daily schedule, I could prevent myself from training to the point of collapse.

It seed like a viable strategy, albeit a temporary one.

A more fundantal solution was needed, as there might be situations where adhering to the schedule was impossible.

'As for Kwan Mu-yeol's other solution...let's keep that as a last resort.'

It felt like crossing a line I shouldn't cross.

I don’t want to beco a pervert.

Even with a potential dominatrix right beside —and believe , she looked the part—it was a hard no.

Anyway, after enduring my morning lessons and martial arts training with the aforentioned expert, visitors arrived at Windrock Palace during my break as usual.

Seon-ah, Third Brother, and Hang Geon—the usual trio. But it was the person behind them that shocked .

"You're alive?" The question slipped out before I could stop myself.

“Pardon? What do you an by that, Young Master?” Ouyang Mun replied with a baffled expression.

"Ahem. It's nothing. Rather, how did you end up coming together?"

My conscience was pricking a little, so I quickly changed the subject. My Third Brother answered with a grim little smile.

"Haha. After hearing your story, I sought out Young Warrior Ouyang for a conversation about martial arts and I found him to be a very interesting young man.”

"I-Is that so?"

“No matter what I say, he always spins it positively. He didn't offer brilliant solutions like you, youngest, but listening to him sohow eased my mind a little.”

Ouyang Mun let out a hearty laugh. “Hahaha! How could I ever match Young Master Il-mok? I’m the one seeking his advice!”

"Huhu. Now that you ntion it, we did have such a conversation."

Third Brother nudged Ouyang Mun with his elbow, causing the latter's expression to shift uncomfortably, and he hesitantly pulled sothing out from his sleeve.

"Ahem. Hayeon! I couldn't give this to you last ti because the other Young Masters were present yesterday, but during my recent mission..."

"From what I hear, Young Warrior Ouyang obtained this item with great difficulty. Take a good look at it."

So there was Ouyang Mun, awkwardly trying to make a move on ice-cold Jin Hayeon, with Third Brother providing backup from the sidelines.

It was truly a bizarre sight.

'What is this? A combination of Mr. Positive and Mr. Negative?'

If you mashed those two into one person, you’d have a textbook case of bipolar disorder.

“If it’s sothing you acquired with such difficulty, it rightfully belongs with Young Warrior Ouyang."

Their combined effort, however, stopped dead before it could even sway Jin Hayeon.

As expected of an aspiring psychopath.