Internal energy gathered at Ink Guest's fingertips.
His specialty was the Lower Draw Fast Sword.
As the name suggested, the technique involved drawing a longsword at overwhelming speed and striking the opponent's lower body in the same motion.
Even a glancing blow could either kill the victim or rob him of his manhood.
Either way, the opponent would be in no condition to continue fighting.
It was a brutally practical technique, well suited to a man who had spent his entire life among the Black Path.
Shing!
Ink Guest made up his mind and began drawing his longsword.
Thud!
"..."
Everything came to a halt.
Before his sword was even halfway out of its sheath, something had pinned its hilt in place.
A dark iron staff.
I didn't even see him move.
The staff wielded by this mere young martial artist had perfectly intercepted his sword hilt.
Ink Guest circulated his internal energy, trying to force the blade free.
It wouldn't budge.
He drove his internal energy harder.
Rumble!
The floor trembled faintly.
His face turned crimson, and thick veins bulged across his forehead.
His hands began to shake.
And yet...
The sword refused to come out.
Cheon Woojin chuckled.
"What are you doing? Aren't you going to draw it?"
Ink Guest cursed inwardly.
The bastard had merely rested his iron staff against the hilt. Yet no matter how much strength Ink Guest exerted, he couldn't overcome him.
Cheon Woojin looked directly into his eyes.
Ink Guest's breath caught.
Every muscle in his body tightened, like a herbivore frozen before a predator.
For an instant, he had the unnerving impression that those dark, unfathomable eyes could see straight through him.
"Huh?"
Suddenly, the resistance against his sword vanished.
The longsword slipped free.
But at that very moment, darkness swallowed his vision.
More precisely, the black Crescent Moon Staff had appeared directly before his eyes.
Thwack!
Agonizing pain exploded through his left eye.
Ink Guest dropped his sword and collapsed into a sitting position, both hands flying to his injured eye.
He knew instinctively what had happened.
With a single strike, he had lost the sight in one eye.
And amid the pain, a bewildered thought surfaced.
What kind of orthodox young martial artist attacks like that?
It was too ruthless, too practical.
Nothing about it resembled the swordsmanship or conduct expected of a promising young martial artist of the Orthodox Path.
But before he could pursue that thought—
Crack!
The Crescent Moon Staff came down mercilessly on the back of his head.
Ink Guest's scalp split open, spraying blood.
He crumpled to the floor, his body convulsing as though struck by lightning.
Then he went limp.
Gu Jinseok, who had watched the entire exchange in horror, pointed at Cheon Woojin and shouted.
"Y-you lunatic! How dare you k-k-kill someone inside the Martial Alliance...!"
"I didn't kill him."
The cold reply seemed to freeze the room.
Cheon Woojin had been looking down at Ink Guest with an expressionless face. Now he turned his gaze toward Gu Jinseok.
Gu Jinseok flinched from head to toe.
"I can't kill him. He's a witness."
"..."
It was a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Yet somehow, it sounded as though Cheon Woojin would have no hesitation in killing Gu Jinseok and everyone connected to him if the circumstances allowed it.
Gu Jinseok's mind went blank.
This man wasn't afraid of him.
He wasn't afraid of the eldest son of the Gu family.
No, it was worse than that.
Cheon Woojin barely seemed to regard him as someone worth considering.
If he had shown even the slightest concern for the Gu family's influence, Ink Guest wouldn't be lying there in a pool of blood.
"Y-you... Just who are you...?"
Gu Jinseok asked, his face deathly pale.
Cheon Woojin considered the question for a moment before answering calmly.
"Cheon Woojin."
"No, you bastard! Who asked for your name—!"
Thwack!
Agonizing pain shot through the back of Gu Jinseok's knee.
He collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.
At some point, the Crescent Moon Staff had struck him behind the knee.
Cheon Woojin looked down at him coldly.
Then he reached inside his robes, withdrew a book, and tossed it in front of him.
The moment Gu Jinseok saw it, he understood.
It was the ledger belonging to the organization that damned Ink Guest had dealt with.
Just then—
A commotion erupted outside.
Hurried footsteps approached, growing louder with every passing moment.
The door burst open.
"Oh, we're screwed."
Song Yiyeon stared into the room, dumbfounded.
Gu Jinseok's bodyguard lay on the floor with his head split open.
Gu Jinseok himself looked as though his head was about to meet the same fate.
And Cheon Woojin was standing there, apparently ready to deliver the blow.
Song Yiyeon desperately wanted to pretend he hadn't seen any of this.
Unfortunately, he had already decided to become Cheon Woojin's friend.
And despite Zhuge Lin's assessment of him as a good-for-nothing idler, Song Yiyeon was a man who took loyalty seriously.
"Young Hero Cheon, it's not too late. You haven't smashed Gu Jinseok's head in yet, so—"
Thwack!
Gu Jinseok's forehead split open.
Blood trickled between the fingers he clapped over the wound.
Song Yiyeon slowly shook his head.
"Oh, for heaven's sake..."
The Song family had plenty of men who could politely be described as spirited.
Less politely, they were hotheaded fools.
Most of them weren't particularly good at thinking ahead, either.
But even those men wouldn't casually crack open the skull of the Gu family's eldest son the way Cheon Woojin just had.
"Young Hero, what in the world are you planning to do? Are you going to kill him?"
Fortunately, both Gu Jinseok and Ink Guest were still alive.
Killing someone within the Martial Alliance meant being placed immediately on its list of public enemies.
There were no exceptions.
Whatever influence Cheon Woojin's master might possess within the Alliance, even that wouldn't save him from such a consequence.
Song Yiyeon seized his sleeve.
Cheon Woojin glanced at him indifferently.
"They tried to kill me and failed. So now it's my turn to kill them."
A chill ran down Song Yiyeon's spine.
The young man's tone and expression were unmistakable.
It was the same look he had worn when slaughtering the black-clad assassins during the examination, and again when interrogating their leader.
Ordinarily, Cheon Woojin had the easygoing disposition of White Master.
But when he confronted someone he considered evil, he became every bit like Black Master.
And when Cheon Woojin looked like that, Song Yiyeon found himself unable to say another word.
Gu Jinseok, who had been writhing on the floor, suddenly spoke.
"...It wasn't me."
"What?"
Cheon Woojin crouched beside him, seized a handful of his hair, and pulled his head up.
"I can't hear you. Speak clearly."
"I... I didn't do it..."
"Then who did?"
With considerable effort, Gu Jinseok pointed toward the unconscious Ink Guest.
Cheon Woojin narrowed his eyes.
Strictly speaking, the ledger implicated only Ink Guest.
There was no mention of the Gu family, nor any record directly connecting Gu Jinseok to the assassination.
But anyone with half a brain could understand what had happened.
Gu Jinseok had given the order, and now Ink Guest was being made to shoulder all the blame.
"Really?"
Cheon Woojin asked with complete indifference.
Song Yiyeon, watching his expression from the side, went pale.
He recognized that look.
It was exactly the expression Cheon Woojin had worn while torturing the leader of the Tiger Hunt Team.
Sure enough, Cheon Woojin stood, holding the Crescent Moon Staff.
Song Yiyeon caught his sleeve again.
"Y-Young Hero?"
"It's fine."
"No, what's fine about this...?"
Song Yiyeon felt like crying.
He hadn't known Cheon Woojin for very long.
But thanks to him, he had passed the first examination. During the second, Cheon Woojin had saved his life.
They hadn't even spoken all that much, yet Song Yiyeon had felt an immediate connection with him.
They seemed to have plenty in common.
He had thought they might become lifelong friends.
And now, the first friend he had made since entering the martial world was on the verge of being thrown into the Martial Alliance's dungeon for the rest of his life.
The long corridor outside was already crowded with young martial artists drawn by the commotion.
Every last one of them could become a witness.
Cheon Woojin looked down at Gu Jinseok and spoke flatly.
"I suppose I'll have to ask him."
"I really didn't do it..."
Gu Jinseok's voice was barely audible.
But Cheon Woojin paid it no attention.
He saw no reason to listen to words he knew were lies.
Cheon Woojin knew two ways of extracting the truth from a liar.
White Master had taught him that sincerity could reach anyone, no matter how stubborn their heart.
Black Master, on the other hand, had often said that a good beating would make the truth come spilling out.
Cheon Woojin considered both teachings.
Then he set down the Crescent Moon Staff and placed a hand on Gu Jinseok's shoulder.
Song Yiyeon's face brightened.
Perhaps his friend had finally come to his senses.
But as the hand on Gu Jinseok's shoulder began to tighten, a low groan escaped the injured man.
Cheon Woojin had chosen Black Master's method.
His reasoning was simple.
In his eyes, Gu Jinseok was a villain.
There was no need to waste more words.
Cheon Woojin held Gu Jinseok firmly by the shoulder with his left hand, while his right moved toward the man's collarbone.
Gu Jinseok stared at him in terror and tried to shove the approaching hand away.
It was useless.
He raised his head sharply.
And the moment his eyes met Cheon Woojin's—
"..."
He froze.
Those deep, pitch-black eyes seemed to be delivering a death sentence.
He couldn't move.
Cheon Woojin's slender right hand closed around his collarbone.
Then his fingers dug deeper.
Thud!
All five fingers pierced Gu Jinseok's skin and sank into his flesh.
As Cheon Woojin tightened his grip, his fingers closed around the collarbone itself.
"Y-Young Hero...?"
Song Yiyeon stared at him in disbelief.
He had seen something like this before.
When he was younger, he had accompanied his father to a butcher's shop.
The butcher, a particularly frightening-looking man, had grabbed a pig's bones with his bare hands and torn them out.
Now that same grisly sight was unfolding before him.
Except this time, the victim was a person.
Not a pig.
Song Yiyeon reached for Cheon Woojin's arm.
But before he could stop him—
Crack!
Crunch!
The sickening sound of tearing flesh came first.
Then Gu Jinseok screamed.
"K-KUAAAAAGH!"
His agonized cry rang throughout the building.
Cheon Woojin didn't even blink.
"I-I DID IT! I ORDERED IT! I TOLD THEM TO KILL YOU! SO PLEASE! PLEASE...!!"
Even after Gu Jinseok confessed, Cheon Woojin didn't release his grip.
Crack!
The collarbone he had been trying to pull free snapped in half.
Gu Jinseok's bones were simply too fragile compared to those of the villains Black Master had tortured in the past.
Cheon Woojin clicked his tongue in disappointment.
Then he flicked the blood from his fingers.
"Why?"
At the single word, Gu Jinseok looked up at him through a face smeared with tears and mucus.
There was no mistaking what he meant.
Why had Gu Jinseok gone so far as to order his murder?
"Because... because I was jealous of you..."
"I see."
Cheon Woojin nodded calmly.
Both his masters had told him that the human heart was endlessly weak.
That reason could so easily be swallowed by the most trivial emotions.
Gu Jinseok was a perfect example.
He had tried to murder someone simply because he was jealous.
Cheon Woojin gazed down at him without emotion.
Then he picked up the Crescent Moon Staff lying beside him.
He deserves to die.
That was his judgment.
Just then—
"Move aside!"
"Everyone, back to your rooms!"
A group of martial artists pushed through the crowd of applicants, their hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor.
They were the commanders and deputy commanders overseeing the Martial Alliance's selection examination.
Among them was Cheol Jiak, Commander of the Black Tortoise Unit.
Zhuge Lin, however, was nowhere to be seen.
She was still serving her three-month suspension.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
A pale-faced man roared.
He was Zhang Seohwi, Commander of the Martial Alliance's White Dragon Unit.
The Alliance members immediately moved between Cheon Woojin and Gu Jinseok.
Several others rushed to examine the fallen Ink Guest and determine whether he was still alive.
The White Dragon Unit Commander strode toward Cheon Woojin, his face contorted with anger.
"Explain yourself."
Without a word, Cheon Woojin pointed at the ledger lying on the floor.
Zhang Seohwi's eyebrows twitched.
"How dare a mere applicant behave so arrogantly? Pick it up and bring it to me!"
"..."
Their gazes met.
Neither man looked away.
Then—
"Hoho. In that case, I'll pick it up."
Cheol Jiak casually stepped forward, retrieved the ledger, and began leafing through it.
"Oh? Isn't this the secret ledger of the West Heaven Society we've been investigating? Where did you find something like this?"
"I picked it up."
Cheol Jiak burst into hearty laughter and pointed at him.
"Really? Well, aren't you lucky!"
The White Dragon Unit Commander's anger seemed to lose its momentum.
With a sigh, he stepped back, though not before shooting Cheon Woojin another glare.
Meanwhile, Cheol Jiak continued reading.
As his eyes traveled down the pages, his expression gradually hardened.
"Is that fellow Ink Guest?"
"Yes! He's the one who tried to have Young Hero Cheon killed!"
Song Yiyeon immediately spoke up.
He doubted Cheon Woojin would explain the situation in a way that helped his own case.
Ordinarily, a person in his position would present the facts as favorably as possible.
But Cheon Woojin simply wasn't the type.
Song Yiyeon, on the other hand, had always been confident in his gift for words.
He fully intended to use that talent to defend his friend.
Unfortunately, Cheol Jiak turned toward him.
"Who asked you to interfere?"
"Pardon? But I'm Young Hero Cheon's friend..."
"His friend, are you? Does that make you applicant Cheon Woojin's guardian?"
"Well, no, but..."
Song Yiyeon hesitated.
Then an idea occurred to him.
"Actually, I'm from the Anhui Song family..."
He had decided to borrow a little of his father's reputation to help his friend.
But the moment Cheol Jiak's expression darkened, the quick-witted Song Yiyeon promptly closed his mouth.
Cheol Jiak pointed first at Song Yiyeon, then at the injured Gu Jinseok.
"I don't care whether you're from the Anhui Song family or the Gu family. Neither of you has the right to interfere in Martial Alliance affairs. We'll handle this ourselves."
"...Understood."
Song Yiyeon clicked his tongue.
Just then, one of the White Dragon Unit martial artists examining Ink Guest approached.
"Commander, Ink Guest is alive."
"Will there be lasting damage?"
"His injuries are severe, but he's fortunate. There doesn't appear to be anything beyond the possibility of recovery."
"Fortunate, my ass."
Zhang Seohwi turned toward Cheon Woojin, regarding him in a new light.
"When something like this happens, you're supposed to report it to the Alliance. Yet you dared to attack someone within our own headquarters! Do you have no fear of consequences? Don't imagine you'll escape punishment so easily."
Cheol Jiak nodded beside him.
"Yes, you went too far this time. In any case, we'll take charge of the investigation. Everyone else, clear out. Applicant Cheon Woojin, come with me. Take these two to the medical hall."
"Yes, Commander."
And with that, the incident was settled.
Or so it seemed.
The investigation didn't take long.
As soon as the results were announced, Cheol Jiak went straight to the office of his superior, Ji Makpyeong, Commander of the Righteous Will Unit and the man responsible for overseeing the selection examination.
Bang!
Cheol Jiak threw the door open so violently that it slammed against the wall.
"Commander! Is this some kind of joke?!"
Ji Makpyeong calmly poured tea into a cup.
"Ah, I thought you might come. Would you like some tea to settle your nerves?"
"Do I look like I'm in the mood for tea?!"
Cheol Jiak was practically shaking with fury.
"You couldn't establish any connection between the Gu family and this incident? Do you have any idea how many years that Ink Guest bastard has been living off the Gu family's generosity? And you expect me to believe he did something like this entirely on his own?!"
"If you don't want any, that's fine."
Ji Makpyeong picked up the second cup and drank its contents himself.
Then he continued.
"Listen, Cheol Jiak."
"..."
"You do realize you're committing insubordination right now, don't you? Surely you haven't forgotten that the Martial Alliance strictly forbids insubordination."
Cheol Jiak strode forward, his face flushed, and slammed his hands onto the desk.
"Listen here, Ji Makpyeong."
"Hah! Do you still think we're equals?"
"...You know this isn't right. How deeply has the Gu family interfered? Have they reached you? Or someone above you?"
"Cheol Jiak!"
Ji Makpyeong shot to his feet.
He glared at Cheol Jiak with murderous intensity.
"This is exactly why you're still nothing more than a unit commander after all these years! Everyone who entered the Alliance alongside you has risen to commander or hall master, yet you're still stuck in the same position. Do you know why?"
"..."
"Because you have no loyalty to the Martial Alliance! None whatsoever!"
Ji Makpyeong jabbed a finger into Cheol Jiak's solar plexus.
"Do you think the Martial Alliance is an organization that bows its head to the Gu family? The investigation reached its conclusion. The investigation! Who are you to question the Alliance's findings?"
"..."
Cheol Jiak clenched his fists.
He gripped them so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palms, drawing blood that dripped onto the floor.
While his contemporaries had risen to positions of authority within the Martial Alliance, Cheol Jiak had never shown much interest in promotion.
But at that moment, he regretted it.
If only... if only I'd risen higher...
Then perhaps he wouldn't have been forced to stand by helplessly while corruption spread through the Martial Alliance and young martial artists suffered injustice.
Ji Makpyeong watched him coldly.
"Stop spouting nonsense and get out. If you distrust the Martial Alliance that much, perhaps you should leave it altogether."
BOOM!
Cheol Jiak drove his fist into the desk.
The entire desk split down the middle and collapsed.
Breathing heavily, he turned and stormed out of the office.
Ji Makpyeong watched him leave.
Then he laughed heartily.
"Still as strong as ever. That fellow hasn't lost his youthful fire."
Cheol Jiak wasn't the only one outraged by the investigation's findings.
There were two others who were every bit as furious.
"This whole world is rotten!"
Zhuge Lin, her face flushed red, raised her cup and shouted.
Song Yiyeon clinked his cup against hers.
"So the decision must have come from someone much higher up than the Black Tortoise Unit Commander, right?"
Zhuge Lin nodded.
"Probably someone at commander rank or above. More importantly, I hope our commander doesn't go and beat up the Righteous Will Unit Commander again."
"Wait. A unit commander beats up a commander? Has the Martial Alliance always been this much of a mess?"
Zhuge Lin chuckled.
"Our commander and the Righteous Will Unit Commander are actually from the same generation. In fact, pretty much everyone currently serving as a commander or hall master joined around the same time as him."
Cheon Woojin, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke.
"Why is that? He seemed quite capable."
At least to Cheon Woojin's eyes, Cheol Jiak was several levels above the other martial artists holding comparable unit commander positions.
Zhuge Lin smiled bitterly.
"It's his personality. He can't flatter people to save his life, and he values his own principles more than the rules. Even now, while the other unit commanders were just complaining among themselves about the investigation results, he went straight to the people responsible and confronted them."
She sighed.
"He's been doing things like that for decades. Eventually, he made himself thoroughly unpopular with the higher-ups."
Cheon Woojin nodded.
This Martial Alliance was rather different from the one White Master had described to him.
Then again, it was an organization made up of people.
And wherever people gathered, such things were bound to happen.
Song Yiyeon suddenly spoke.
"Ah, come to think of it, doesn't your master know someone fairly important in the Martial Alliance, Young Hero Cheon? Though I suppose expecting a connection at commander rank or higher might be asking too much..."
Zhuge Lin's eyes brightened.
"That's right! You mentioned that you originally came here looking for someone. Who knows? Perhaps that person holds a very high position."
Zhuge Lin already knew that Cheon Woojin was Black Master's disciple.
Anyone connected to a figure as notorious as Black Master would surely be someone of considerable standing within the Martial Alliance.
But wait... would that really be a good thing?
The more she learned about Cheon Woojin, the more complicated everything seemed to become.
Cheon Woojin answered calmly.
"I told you before. I don't even know his name. All I have is the nickname 'Sword Slower Than a Turtle'..."
At that very moment—
BANG!
The door flew open.
Cheol Jiak's fierce-looking face appeared in the doorway.
"What?! What did you just say?!"
Zhuge Lin noticed the blood still dripping from his hand and sprang to her feet.
"Commander! What happened to your hand? How many people did you beat up this time...?"
"...What are you talking about? Never mind that!"
Cheol Jiak turned sharply toward Cheon Woojin.
"Applicant Cheon Woojin. What did you just say? Say it again!"
"Sword Slower Than a Turtle?"
Cheol Jiak's eyes widened like lanterns.
To think there's someone else who knows that nickname besides me.
A hollow laugh escaped him.
"That's a nickname, not a title. Who in their right mind would use something like that as an official title?"
"Huh? You know who it is, Commander?"
"I know him. I know him very well."
Cheol Jiak stood motionless, lost in an old memory.
"Jiak, come here."
"Yes? Ah, yes, Commander!"
It had happened when Cheol Jiak was still young, not long after he first joined the Martial Alliance.
For roughly a fortnight, he had served in the same armed unit as that man.
The other man had already been a commander.
Cheol Jiak, meanwhile, had been a mere newcomer.
"Jiak, tell me something. Is my sword really that slow?"
"Excuse me...? But Commander, you're faster than any swordsman I know."
"Exactly! There's no reason anyone should ever say something like that about me."
The commander, who had already made a considerable name for himself throughout the martial world, had looked unusually dejected that day.
Young Cheol Jiak couldn't contain his curiosity.
"What exactly did someone say to you?"
"Sword Slower Than a Turtle."
"...Who on earth called you that?"
"Someone did."
The commander paused.
"The person I respect most."
Just as the young Cheol Jiak had once been unable to contain his curiosity, Zhuge Lin now interrupted his recollection.
"So who exactly is Sword Slower Than a Turtle?"
"The Alliance Leader."
"...?"
An awkward silence fell over the room.
Cheol Jiak alone was smiling triumphantly to himself.
Ji Makpyeong, you bastard...