I Became the Successor of the Martial God Chapter 121

I Became the Successor of the Martial God

Chapter 121.  

The Cult of Resurrection.  

They are followers of the God of Death, one of the gods of Halpeon. 

As the name suggests, the God of Death presides over ‘death,‘ guiding the deceased to the underworld.  

‘But this guy is greedy as hell.’

Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say he has a strong desire for domination.  

The God of Death doesn’t just want to rule over the dead of Halpeon—he wants to control the dead of other worlds as well.  

To that end, he devised various schemes to expand his influence into other realms and chose someone capable of carrying them out.  

And that someone is—  

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Vincent Wheeler.”  

This bastard.  

Vincent Wheeler.  

“I actually just saw some of the Saviors doing volunteer work earlier. It’s a pleasure to meet the leader of such a noble organization.”  

“Oh, is that so? I’m flattered. We just do what we believe needs to be done…”  

“You’re truly remarkable.”  

In more ways than one.  

Yoo Baek-jun’s praise was laced with sarcasm, but the man himself probably didn’t notice.  

“Thanks to the lodging support you’ve provided recently, you have no idea how much it’s helped us. Haha! Temporary shelters have their limits, so we can’t help everyone… which inevitably leads to complaints.”  

“Not at all. Everyone knows the association is doing its best. I’m just fortunate to have an artifact that allows me to help.”  

“That artifact—it’s truly fascinating.”  

Han Chang-woo’s eyes sparkled.  

“An artifact that creates a house when you infuse it with magical energy… was it? I was completely stunned.”  

“I was lucky to obtain it.”  

Even Yoo Baek-jun’s gaze shifted as he listened.  

‘That’s an artifact worth coveting.’  

But since Vincent possesses it permanently, there’s no way to take it beforehand.  

Normally, it takes the form of a small sphere, but when infused with magic, it transforms into a large house.  

‘It’d be incredibly useful for traveling between worlds.’  

The only problem is that the means to obtain it are limited.  

“Hmm…”  

As Yoo Baek-jun watched Vincent and Chae Jeong-jun converse, a memory surfaced.  

‘Savior International.’  

Vincent, the head of this Nonprofit organization , specializes in aiding the recovery of areas devastated by major incidents.  

His presence in Seoul, which had just endured the Great Invasion, was no coincidence.  

But does he do this purely out of noble intentions?  

‘Absolutely not.’  

While publicly running Savior International, he secretly operates the Cult of Resurrection.  

Given that, it’s safe to assume that Vincent’s seemingly benevolent actions have ulterior motives.  

‘Should I try to draw out that reason?’  

Just then, music began to play—a melancholic tribute to lost mothers. Some attendees wiped their eyes, including Yoo Baek-jun.

“Young master?”  

Han Seong-ah flusteredly fussed over him. Even she had never seen Yoo Baek-jun shed tears before.  

The people around them were no different.  

—Kya, kyaaang…?  

Seol-yeong, nestled in his arms, frowned as if witnessing something unbearable.  

The reason for her expression was simple.  

‘Faking tears is harder than I thought.’  

Because Yoo Baek-jun’s tears weren’t real.  

He forced himself to recall sad memories—his parents from his original world—to squeeze out those tears.  

And Vincent reacted.  

“Are you alright? Here, use this.”  

“Ah, yes. Thank you. This is… quite embarrassing.”  

Yoo Baek-jun wiped his tears with the handkerchief. Vincent smiled gently, as if understanding completely.  

“I was reminded of my late mother. She cherished me deeply.”  

“I see. Your mother…”  

“Yes.”  

Yoo Baek-jun gazed at the singer on stage with a distant look in his eyes.  

The melancholic atmosphere struck a chord with those watching.  

“She passed away from illness. At the time, I thought I’d do anything to bring her back.”  

“……”  

Vincent’s eyes gleamed strangely upon hearing Yoo Baek-jun’s muttering.  

It was so brief that no one noticed—except Yoo Baek-jun.  

“It’s over.”  

Before long, the music ended.  

Vincent was the first to rise from his seat.  

“I have an appointment, so I should get going. I wish we could’ve talked longer…”  

“There’ll be other opportunities.”  

“Will there?”  

Vincent smiled and handed Yoo Baek-jun a business card—with an invitation tucked beneath it.  

“This is my office while I’m in Korea. I’m planning a charity party soon… If you’re interested, I’d love for you to attend.”  

“I’ll be there.”  

With that, Vincent left.  

Chae Jeong-jun, who had been watching, tilted his head in confusion.  

“Huh? He didn’t give us one?”  

“Ah, Deputy Director Jeong-jun. Those things are only for the wealthy… They wouldn’t invite someone like you with no money.”  

“Well… Hey, you little—!”  

Chae Jeong-jun and Han Chang-woo bickered.  

While that was partly true, there was another reason for receiving this invitation.  

‘Someone with a reason to join the Cult of Resurrection.’  

Yoo Baek-jun pocketed the invitation.  

“I’ll take my leave as well. Let’s have a meal together sometime—say, in about a week?”  

“Of course. If you’re inviting me, I’ll make time no matter what.”  

Chae Jeong-jun readily agreed. Yoo Baek-jun gave him a slight nod before leaving.  

As he exited the venue, Han Seong-ah quietly followed and caught up to him.  

“Young master.”  

“Well done, Instructor Han Seong-ah.”  

“Huh? Ah, yes. I did as you instructed—delivering the donation and requesting the music, but…”  

Han Seong-ah looked at Yoo Baek-jun with uncharacteristic concern in her eyes.  

“Young master, your mother…”  

“Why are you looking at me with such gloomy eyes?”  

“N-no, it’s just… I feel frustrated by my inability to express myself properly at times like this.”  

She seemed to have misunderstood.  

Seeing the gathered crowd, she must have assumed Yoo Baek-jun was mourning his late mother.  

But that was a huge miscalculation.  

‘Why would I miss someone who isn’t even my mother?’  

He might miss his parents from his original world, but he felt no longing for ‘Yoo Baek-jun’s‘ mother.  

After all, she wasn’t his mother to begin with.  

This was solely to fulfill the conditions for triggering an event.  

‘This invitation.’  

There’s an event called <Joining the Cult of Resurrection>. 

As the name suggests, it involves becoming a member of the Cult of Resurrection—originally an enemy faction meant to be purged.  

Naturally, it leads to a bad ending.  

But if played right—  

‘It makes resolving the Cult of Resurrection event much easier.’  

That’s what Yoo Baek-jun was aiming for.  

He strode forward confidently. In the distance, he spotted Vincent, who had left earlier, conversing with an elderly man.  

—Bad human.  

—You think so too?  

Seol-yeong stared intently at Vincent before suddenly voicing its opinion. The fairy seemed to share the sentiment.  

“I think so too.”  

And so did Yoo Baek-jun.  

* * *  

The event hall echoed with music.  

An elderly man sat slumped in his chair, his face filled with despair. There was no vitality in his expression—he looked like he could drop dead at any moment.  

“Darling… why did you leave me first…?”  

Those were the words that escaped his lips—a deep longing for the deceased.

“If I’d known it would come to this, I would’ve…”  

The old man regretted his life.  

Disgusted by his impoverished past, he had worked tirelessly, eventually attaining fame and wealth.  

And by his side through it all was his wife. Always, blindly supporting him.  

“What did I ever do for her…?”  

Nothing.  

They never even went on a simple trip. He showered her with luxury gifts, but what did they mean?  

There were no shared memories left behind.  

“I… I…”  

Tears of despair streamed down the old man’s face.  

Then, someone placed a hand on his shoulder.  

“Are you alright?”  

“Who… are you?”  

A man with dazzling golden hair—Vincent.  

His hand glowed faintly, an inexplicable power beginning to soothe the old man’s despair.  

“I am someone who can be your savior.”  

“S-savior?”  

“Yes.”  

The old man’s eyes filled with bewilderment, but soon, his gaze grew hazy.  

“If there were a way to bring back the precious person you’ve lost…”  

Vincent smiled.  

As always, gently.  

“What would you do?”  

But,  

It was a smile devoid of any sincerity.  

* * *  

The Cult of Resurrection wields significant influence.  

As mentioned earlier, Vincent travels to areas struck by major disasters, gaining supporters by aiding victims.  

Among them, he targets potential sponsors who could greatly benefit his organization.  

‘Those with vast wealth who have recently lost loved ones in accidents.’  

No matter how renowned they are. No matter how much wealth they possess. They cannot bring back the dead.  

And that’s exactly what Vincent preys on.  

—There is a way to bring your wife back.  

Just like that..  

He likely approached the old man from earlier with the same words.  

‘It doesn’t always work, but it succeeds more often than not.’  

Vincent has the aura of a cult leader. A strange charisma, if you will.  

His unique demeanor and cryptic speech captivate people, and once ensnared, breaking free is nearly impossible.  

‘He also has related traits.’  

And there’s another method of persuasion he employs.  

—Wouldn’t you like to live forever?  

The second pattern in Vincent’s persuasion.  

Wealthy, aging individuals often fear death. 

And he tempts them with that fear.

“By using demons.”  

He transforms them into monstrous “demonkin” using the corpses of dead demons.  

The demonification process grants ordinary humans immense power and extended lifespans.  

But it also turns them into savage creatures.  

‘That’s the tricky part.’  

If mishandled, demonification spreads like a plague, triggering catastrophic events.  

To prevent that, demonification must be stopped.  

‘Which means the cult must be dealt with quickly.’  

There’s one variable, though.  

Carousel, who fled during the Great Invasion, and the remnants of her demon forces. 

Occasionally, these reckless fools get captured by the Cult of Resurrection.  

‘Then it’s game over.’  

Regardless.  

This is how the Cult of Resurrection has grown its influence.  

Most of its members are those who have lost family or loved ones, serving the God of Death in hopes of resurrecting them.  

‘First, we need information.’  

The Cult of Resurrection has branches all over South Korea.

Their locations change frequently, so gathering intel is essential.

And they must be eradicated in one sweep.  

“Hmm…”  

As Yoo Baek-jun pondered, one person came to mind.  

The other protagonist he’d just met.  

‘Should I use Han Chang-woo…?’

He coveted the man’s power.  

After a brief moment of thought, Yoo Baek-jun picked up his phone. First, he needed someone to gather information.  

—Hello…?  

“Min Yi-jae, let’s work on something together.”  

Yoo Baek-jun deliberately lowered his voice, and silence lingered on the other end.  

—Why are you setting the mood like that…?  

“Hey, you’re one to talk.”  

Yoo Baek-jun let out a dry laugh.  

—Didn’t we just finish a job not long ago…? Or is it just me…?  

“No, but another one came up.”  

—You’re really working me to the bone…  

Min Yi-jae sighed and reluctantly agreed.