Jeong Gildo stared at Jin Sohan and hesitated.
Judging by the condition of his men, they’d been beaten barehanded. But there were arms strapped at Jin Sohan’s waist. And his clothing was black clothes—taboo on West Black Road. If some ordinary bastard walked around dressed like that, Jeong Gildo would’ve been the one to step in and kill him.
But that man wore black clothes as naturally as if he had the right to.
And on top of that, even Choo Sahyeok—ex-Ghost Blade Sect…
He couldn’t even imagine rushing him.
Jeong Gildo spoke to Jin Sohan.
“Whatever your reason for stirring this up… if you want something, say it.”
Jin Sohan answered.
“I do.”
“What is it?”
“Everything of the Blood-Whisper Sect.”
“What?”
“Everything the Blood-Whisper Sect has.”
“This… You’re someone who should be speaking with the Sect Master. Fine. I’ll go back and report it. I’ll make it so the Sect Master can come… how about that?”
Hearing him, Jin Sohan smiled.
“Even if you don’t call him, the Blood-Whisper Sect Master will be coming right in front of this place soon.”
“……”
“Because he’ll be coming to see your corpse.”
At Jin Sohan’s words, a chill crawled up Choo Sahyeok’s spine.
Ah… what is this feeling?
Choo Sahyeok found himself wondering how he’d even lived up to now. Hadn’t he been living like a dead body?
It was strange. Only after hearing Jin Sohan did he finally feel like he was alive and breathing.
It wasn’t simply the feeling of blood boiling.
It felt like the Unorthodox Faction’s own reeking smell of blood was hovering at the edge of his nose.
“PTUI!”
Jeong Gildo spat into his hand, readjusted his grip on his curved saber, and spoke to Choo Sahyeok.
“Choo Sahyeok. You’re not going to do something ugly like a two-on-one, are you?”
Choo Sahyeok smiled.
“Get a grip. Unit Leader Je—”
Jeong Gildo decided Jin Sohan was looking down on him.
He still had his arms folded.
That meant Jeong Gildo still had a chance to seize the initiative and win first.
Jeong Gildo sprang up on a strange trajectory.
He was fast.
The moment one foot touched the ground, his hand had already grabbed the hair of a subordinate who was half-dead.
He threw the man—and sprang again.
Jeong Gildo raised his curved saber straight up, then chopped down at Jin Sohan.
If Jin Sohan swatted away the flying body, Jeong Gildo would finish it with a single follow-up strike.
Jin Sohan, who’d been perched on the table with his hips hooked on the edge, stepped forward and drove his right foot into the flying man’s torso.
THUD—!
With a bizarre sound, the man’s torso flew back the other way and smashed into Jeong Gildo.
WHAM!
In that instant, the liquor cup Jin Sohan flicked flew into Jeong Gildo’s face.
Could a person be killed with a liquor cup?
The cup collided with Jeong Gildo’s forehead—and, absurdly, a METALLIC CLANG rang out.
Jeong Gildo toppled over with his face crushed in.
Jin Sohan walked toward him.
The men sprawled on the floor jolted in terror and scrambled aside, opening a path left and right.
Jeong Gildo tried to rise.
Jin Sohan’s foot snapped into his jaw.
CRACK!
Jeong Gildo’s head whipped sideways—and his breathing stopped.
Only then did the liquor cup, which had been ricocheting around with a ruckus, drop to the floor, flattened thin like paper.
Jin Sohan looked over the Northwind Unit members who still had their lives and spoke.
“Take all these corpses with you. The ones still alive—I left you one leg and one arm each in working order.”
Then Jin Sohan called out.
“Choo Sahyeok.”
Jin Sohan had deliberately chosen to break only one arm or one leg on each Northwind Unit member.
Choo Sahyeok answered.
“Yes.”
“Open the doors.”
“Understood.”
Choo Sahyeok spoke coldly to the injured.
“If you drag your feet, I’ll take it as you don’t want to live—and I’ll stick a blade in you.”
At that, the Northwind Unit members, in miserable shape, dragged the already-dead down the stairs.
They looked so humiliating that anyone from the Blood-Whisper Sect would’ve wanted to pass out.
And their Unit Leader was dead…
Jin Sohan spoke to the Blood-Whisper Sect members who were about to stagger out through Moonlit Night Pavilion’s front doors.
“Tell the Blood-Whisper Sect Master to come in person.”
When the Blood-Whisper Sect members left Moonlit Night Pavilion, forcing themselves to keep moving, Choo Sahyeok shut the front doors and spoke to Jin Sohan.
“Troupe Master. Are you satisfied now—just as you wanted?”
“Not yet…”
“You made it… truly wretched. A humiliating situation. The Blood-Whisper Sect will come swarming. Can you handle it?”
“Is there any reason I wouldn’t, at this point? Even if only out of curiosity, they’ll come.”
Choo Sahyeok climbed the stairs as he spoke.
“You’re an evil man I haven’t seen in a long time.”
“Me?”
“Yes. May I ask why you handled it this cruelly?”
Jin Sohan’s mouth curved in a faint smile.
“So they’ll want revenge.”
“Revenge?”
“Like me. Revenge meets revenge, and you settle it.”
Jin Sohan’s eyes cooled.
“In front of Mystic Lunar Troupe.”
“Your blade… are you not using it for a reason?”
Jin Sohan nodded.
“You’ll know soon enough.”
Which also meant—
Soon, he would use it.
Today, Choo Sahyeok had a lot he wanted to ask.
“Why do you drink so much?”
Even as Choo Sahyeok asked, Jin Sohan drank another cup.
The answer was oddly twisted.
“It’s not poison, but… it has a strange addictiveness. It feels like my insides are being washed clean.”
How could Choo Sahyeok possibly understand Jin Sohan’s reason for drinking?
Jin Sohan’s body was a body steeped in poison.
When he drank, it felt—only felt—as though the Venom Demon’s poison that had soaked through his entire body was being rinsed away, even if only a little.
Of course it was only a feeling…
Jin Sohan leaned his head back against the chair and spoke to Choo Sahyeok.
“When the Blood-Whisper Sect all comes, you’ll be in danger too. Stay out of it.”
“I’ll handle myself.”
“Handle yourself. And go to the warehouse—bring me some clothes.”
At the sudden request, Choo Sahyeok asked back.
“What clothes are you talking about?”
*****
From Moonlit Night Pavilion to the Blood-Whisper Sect.
The march of the shattered Northwind Unit continued, and the mood across West Black Road turned icy cold.
So it’s war.
If war broke out, it should’ve meant the Blood-Whisper Sect clashing with some other Unorthodox power…
No one expected something like this to happen inside West Black Road.
That was why everyone held their breath even harder.
A cold night flowed in silence.
And even when the next day’s sun climbed to its peak, West Black Road was still quiet.
Shopkeepers locked their doors tight, and even the street peddlers didn’t come out of their homes.
There was no need to find out what had happened.
The condition of the ones returning to the Blood-Whisper Sect was too dreadful.
But the grim atmosphere wasn’t limited to West Black Road.
It was the same in the Blood-Whisper Sect’s executive meeting.
“How shameful.”
While everyone’s expressions had hardened into stiff masks, one man—Cheon Amyeong, the Blood-Whisper Sect Master—was smiling alone.
How could it be a pleasant smile?
Cheon Amyeong’s emotion was boiling to the point it would only be relieved by killing someone.
And because that rage began as laughter, the executives’ spines went cold.
His meaningless laughter lasted longer than usual.
And with every second, his subordinates’ anxiety grew heavier.
Cheon Amyeong was, in common terms, a man with the eyes of a rat.
Yet his manner of speech was like a friendly merchant wandering the marketplace, and his face always looked cheerful.
A contradictory man.
Cheon Amyeong finally stopped laughing and opened his mouth.
“You know.”
His subordinates answered in unison.
“Yes.”
“I think I know who it is. That bastard in Moonlit Night Pavilion.”
What was this?
Even his subordinates hadn’t uncovered Jin Sohan’s identity, and yet Cheon Amyeong was already making a vague guess.
Cheon Amyeong scolded them.
“Either way, he’s someone who has a grudge against us.”
“That seems likely.”
“Bring me the Death Ledger.”
An executive respectfully presented a thick book he’d prepared.
Cheon Amyeong wet his finger with saliva and flipped through the Death Ledger.
Most of the names already had red lines drawn over them.
How many had they killed?
SWISH…
With that sound, the list with red lines kept sliding past.
Cheon Amyeong spoke.
“Look at this. There are still quite a few alive.”
“That’s why when you work, whether it’s a brat or an old man, you cut the lifeline clean. Otherwise this happens.”
“Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“We were lacking.”
Cheon Amyeong clicked his tongue.
“Even with me saying all this, you still don’t know who it is, do you?”
No one answered.
“You let some slip when you handled the West Gold Escort Agency.”
“And it was the same when you handled Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe.”
“Even when I told you to gather the orphans first and then strike, you didn’t listen.”
“If it’s not a survivor from the West Gold Escort Agency, then it’s one of the orphan brats from Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe, isn’t it?”
“Look at this. The survivor list has brats we didn’t kill sitting right there in plain sight.”
He snapped at a man.
“Ghost-Slaughter Unit Leader, you bastard.”
“Yes, Sect Master.”
“Read it. What does it say?”
The Ghost-Slaughter Unit Leader read the entries the Sect Master held out.
“Orphan of Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe, Siwol. Status unknown.”
“Next.”
“Orphan of Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe, Dream Kid. Status unknown.”
“Next.”
“Ally of Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe, Chumyeongwi. Status unknown.”
Cheon Amyeong took the Death Ledger back and spoke to the Ghost-Slaughter Unit Leader.
“Is your head just decoration?”
When the Ghost-Slaughter Unit Leader lowered his head, Cheon Amyeong slammed the Death Ledger down on it without mercy.
Cheon Amyeong spoke.
“In the end, isn’t this because you didn’t handle your work properly?”
“And even Jeong Gildo—who actually works hard—comes back dead like that.”
“So who do you think it is, out of the three?”
The Ghost-Slaughter Unit Leader answered with a face burning red.
“Either Siwol… or Dream Kid.”
“Either? Speak properly, you bastard.”
“Why do you think I went through the trouble of asking people and making a Death Ledger like this?”
“Did I make it so you could flip it open after something happens?”
“If you’d found them early and killed them, would anything like this have happened?”
“I’m sorry.”
Cheon Amyeong looked over his subordinates and smiled.
“Is it only the Ghost-Slaughter Unit Leader who’s sorry?”
“We’re sorry, Sect Master.”
Cheon Amyeong said.
“This is what I think.”
“Yes.”
“Before we tore Mystic Lunar Troupe apart, that Dream Kid brat disappeared all of a sudden.”
“Anyone remember? No? None of you?”
Among the executives, only one man—Cheon Taemyeong, Cheon Amyeong’s younger brother and the Deputy Sect Master—had his arms folded, and he alone let out a small, amused snort, as if something came to mind.
Cheon Amyeong continued.
“I remember it vividly. The kid had potential.”
“I was even thinking I’d take him and raise him well, so whenever I went to Mystic Lunar Troupe to play, I’d pat his head and all.”
“I gave up because I didn’t like his eyes.”
“He looked like the kind who’d never listen to anyone, no matter what.”
“Fearless, too…”
“He’s written here as a survivor—so why can’t any of you even guess it’s him?”
“Dream Kid. Anyone know him?”
The executives looked from face to face, then answered cautiously.
“Other than the Deputy Sect Master… it seems there’s no one.”
Cheon Taemyeong replied.
“How would they remember children at all?”
“Only you or I would remember.”
Cheon Amyeong spoke bitterly.
“I killed them all so thoroughly there’s no one left to take hostage, either.”
“The kids said he was wearing black clothes, right?”
“Yes.”
“That means there’s someone behind him.”
“And if that’s the case, we absolutely can’t let our guard down.”
“If he’s not running, it means he already knows our strength.”
“He told me to come in person?”
“And of all places, he stays put in Moonlit Night Pavilion.”
“Yes.”
“I’m so ashamed I can even keep operating in the Unorthodox world anymore.”
“Ah, seriously… you bastards…”
Cheon Amyeong slapped the table.
“Blood-Whisper Sect.”
“Yes.”
“Have every last one of these fucking bastards assemble.”
“You understand?”
“Every man who can hold a blade—every single one.”
“Executives. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Understood.”
“And…”
“Those idiots from the Northwind Unit who crawled back crippled.”
“Before we depart, tie them up and line them up.”
“We’ll cut their throats, then leave.”
The executives’ faces turned gaunt.
Cheon Amyeong watched their expressions and spoke.
“Why.”
“Are you planning to take them and use them?”
“Who’s going to ‘pick them up’?”
“Why is no one talking?”
The Blood-Battle Unit Leader spoke.
“It would be right to process it as mission failure.”
“No. No.”
“You need to say it right.”
“This is a warning to you.”
“We have to fix the rotten state of these bastards’ minds first.”
“Kill them as an example.”
“They’re useless anyway.”
“Understood.”
“Assemble, depart, and we arrive at Moonlit Night Pavilion at 7 p.m.”
“Get up.”
The executives rose to their feet all at once.
Even after they scattered, Deputy Sect Master Cheon Taemyeong stayed seated.
Cheon Taemyeong—called the Ash-Blood First Blade—spoke in an easy tone.
“Do you think it’s Dream Kid?”
“Have you ever known my guess to be wrong?”
“Do you remember him?”
“Of course I do.”
“I even thought about taking him as a disciple…”
“He’d be in his mid-twenties this year.”
“It’s nice to hear he’s alive.”
“Nice?”
“Don’t scowl.”
“You don’t trust the rest of them anyway.”
“Who else do you have but me?”
“Right.”
“You’re the last line.”
“Watch his skill carefully.”
“A hundred might die.”
Cheon Taemyeong nodded.
“Trust me.”
“Brother—have a smoke.”
“Relax that face…”
“Is this the first time we’ve dealt with something like this?”
“You idiot. That’s why you’re lacking.”
“What now?”
“If we don’t handle this properly here, other bastards will start eyeing our territory.”
“Do you think you’ll sleep with both legs stretched out?”
“You worry too much.”
“We just have to kill him well…”
Cheon Taemyeong took out a mass-produced roll of Forget-Care Tobacco from his robe.
Right in front of the Sect Master, he exhaled white smoke and muttered.
“Damn… our Dream Kid…”
“You’ve grown up.”