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The Inferno of Obsession: Part One

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Nice! To pierce an enemy’s heart with this sword:that is pure pleasure!

A raindrop hit the tip of the blade with a splash: it was as thoughthe rain agreed.

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Good, good! To chop an enemy’s head with this blade: that is sheer joy!

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A raindrop fell on the body of the sword, as though echoing his admiration.

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Ah, excellent! To awe heaven and earth with this sword, to strike terror into a thousand mountains: that is utter delight!

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Ah, nice! To hew your own throat open with this blade: that is true happiness!

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Of all the things in the world, why can’t I have the very best sword?

Tell me! Why?

You want the very best sword? I have it right here.

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The Inferno of Obsession: Part Two

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You have a good sword? A sword without equal, the very best?

I have one good sword. A matchless sword, the very best.

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Alright then, show me.

Sure, on one condition: you must tell me why you’re looking for the greatest sword.

I was born into a family of swords.

My ancestors were all famed swordsmiths and great swordsmen to boot.

For generations, my family has sought the beauty, power, and spirit of swords.

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But tragedy struck with my great-grandfather.

He’d spent twenty years on a great sword. To test it,

he slaughtered everyone in his family, all 84 of them except my grandfather.

My crazed great-grandfather then Killed himself.

From that day forth, my grandfather swore never to “talk sword.” He sold tofu for a living and forgot everything about swords.

And my father, he wasn’t interested in swords either.He only cared about making tofu whiter, softer, sweeter, and smoother.

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But I was different.

He squinted his eyes while he spoke.

Rain kept falling, so that you couldn't tell rain from tears...

My first word as a baby wasn’t “Ma” or “Pa”:

Every dream I had was about swords!

At the age of fifteen, I secretly cast my own sword, without anyone teaching me how.

My will and my swords were one.

I also learnt many swordcrafts, all without a teacher.

I knew my life would be devoted to the beauty, power, and spirit of swords.

it was “sword.”The first thing I ever drew was a sword;

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It was my way but also my obsession.One night, I tested my sword on my father, mother, brothers, and sisters.

....

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But I was different: I didn’t kill myself. I wanted to know what being a truly great sword felt like.

I started wandering. Within ten years, I killed 178 people and collected 182 swords.

Some were not bad, but none really caught my eye.

I was terrified, for I knew I couldn’t go on like that.

So twenty-nine years ago, I became a monk at a small temple.

The mercy of Buddha quelled my filthy thoughts.

I slowly forgot about swords, and finally...I started to repent....

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For twenty-eight years,

I gained solace in tranquility. Until last year...

All false! All lies!

The Buddha didn’t give me any peace!I never forgot about swords!

Their power! Their beauty! Their spirit!

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I left the temple.

In one year, I killed 224 people and took 230 swords.

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But they were all rotten.

Now do you see why I want the greatest sword?

I do.

And the sword?

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The rain stopped.

The sky cleared.

What a sword, what aura! Mind-blowing!

......

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There’s another condition if you want the sword.

What?Kill that man!

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The Inferno of Obsession:Part Three

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Kill me? What for?

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I’m truly sorry. I know we’ve never crossed paths, so there is no hatred nor vengeance....

But I only live for a truly great sword.

Grant me my wish and I shall never forget your kindness.

How do you want to die? This I can grant you. You really are

crazy, you know that?What if this sword still isn’t good enough, then I'll have died for nothing!

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Well, I can only hope....

Wusheng didn’t listen to him. He was staring at the sword.

The sword cover suddenly opened up all by itself.

Oh, it’s the....

My apo-logies!

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With a thud, the cover lifted a little.

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......

......

......You know what a truly great sword is?

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......

A sword that kills you is a truly great sword.

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The cover lifted up again: a dazzling light shone from within.

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Even the Abi Messenger knelt down.

The blind man placed the sword on the ground and clasped his handsin prayer.

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Wind surged from all directions.

Everyone who was watching scattered off in hiding.

The wind made Wusheng’s clothes flutter....

So it is you, O Venerable One! Here we meet again. Please awake soon.

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The blind man leapt at the sword,

and vanished.

So did the light from the sword.

Only a darkened blade remained.

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The wind died down...

and the clouds scattered.

It all felt like a dream.

Take the sword.

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The sword, now darkened, had nothing special about it.

That light just now, where did it go?

You are the one who will ignite it.

Me?

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What kind of sword is this?

And why did he call me ‘Venerable One’?

You’ll soon find out.

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Wusheng looked at the black sword again.

The sword was silent.