In a quiet corner of South Korea, a timid orphan named Joon-Ho trudged through life, enduring daily torment from his classmates. With no family to turn to, he buried himself in his love for martial arts manhwas, fantasizing about worlds where justice prevailed and strength determined one's fate. His favorite tales often featured demonic martial arts—feared and revered techniques that could topple entire sects.

One rainy evening, cornered by his tormentors in an alley, Joon-Ho's life came to a tragic end. Their cruel laughter was the last sound he heard as darkness consumed him.

Yet, death was not the end.

When Joon-Ho opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the cool mountain breeze brushing against his skin. The landscape was unlike anything he'd ever seen—majestic peaks, lush forests, and an air so pure it felt otherworldly. He realized he was no longer in his old world.

As he rose, memories and knowledge flooded his mind. Techniques, forms, and philosophies from the demonic martial arts he'd read about came to him as if he'd practiced them his entire life. His hands moved instinctively, forming the first stance of the Heavenly Divine Demonic Art, a technique said to be impossible to master. The ground beneath him cracked with raw power.

Confused but intrigued, Joon-Ho began exploring the mountain. Deep in the woods, he stumbled upon a hidden cave. The walls were adorned with ancient carvings of demons and battles, and the air was thick with an eerie energy. Exhausted, he lay down on a smooth stone inside and fell asleep.

When he awoke, the first thing he saw was a man clad in crimson robes kneeling before him. The man's eyes were wide with reverence and fear.

"Blood Demon," the stranger whispered, his voice trembling. "Have mercy on us. Please, return to lead the Blood Cult."

Joon-Ho blinked in confusion, his mind racing. Blood Demon? Blood Cult? The terms felt familiar yet foreign. His awkward silence stretched, and the man's head dipped lower, as if he feared retribution.

"…Uh, what?" Joon-Ho muttered, scratching the back of his head.

The stranger's expression turned to one of desperate hope. "You truly have returned! The prophecy was true! The heavens have blessed us once more!"

Joon-Ho felt a cold sweat break out on his back. What is going on?

To be continued…