The sun sank into a blood-red sunset, as if it were finally time for revenge.
Choo Sahyeok waited outside Moonlit Night Pavilion for the Blood-Whisper Sect to arrive, because it felt like Jin Sohan wanted to be alone.
Just how many will come swarming in?
Judging by the ominous mood on West Black Road, he expected an overwhelming force could pour in.
Then, out of nowhere, Choo Sahyeok remembered the clothes Jin Sohan had told him to bring.
What Jin Sohan had demanded was a Gauze Dance Robe—the dancer costume worn by the women who performed sword-dance—and, heartbreakingly, it was embroidered with pink flower petals.
Jin Sohan’s gaze as he looked at the dancer robe was deeply sorrowful.
Choo Sahyeok realized a person could show grief without any expression at all—using only their eyes.
Jin Sohan brushed his fingers over the robe and said,
“When I was little, I heard that they made clothes like this to make the beauty of curves stand out during sword-dance. It’s not… something made just to be ripped off.”
He wasn’t asking for an answer, so Choo Sahyeok only nodded in silence.
Staring into West Black Road’s darkness, Choo Sahyeok found Jin Sohan’s words echoing in his ears.
Don’t tell me… he’s planning to die.
Choo Sahyeok turned his head toward the second floor where Jin Sohan was.
Jin Sohan’s shadow wavered over the table.
He was checking his outfit and equipment.
The position of the White Fan. How much poison was stored inside it. He tightened the belt holding two blades at his waist again, and he shifted the paralyzing powder he’d taken from Moonlit Night Pavilion’s warehouse into his inner pocket so he could draw it easily.
Instead, the wooden case holding the Golden Wound Salve and antidotes Medicine Immortal had given him was set aside on the table for now.
This wasn’t the kind of situation where he needed anything but what he’d use in a fight.
He didn’t even need to inspect Twin Moon.
Those were the arms Venom Demon had used.
Good or evil aside, Jin Sohan’s masters were thorough to the bone.
Just like the White Fan, Twin Moon was a weapon that could be fed inner energy to expel poison.
That was exactly why Jin Sohan hadn’t used it once since returning home.
There hadn’t been anyone worth it.
When Jin Sohan’s eyes drifted, for a moment, toward the Gauze Dance Robe Choo Sahyeok had brought, Choo Sahyeok shoved the front doors open and rushed in with a breathless, excited voice.
“Troupe Master!”
“Speak.”
From the first floor, Choo Sahyeok reported the Blood-Whisper Sect’s arrival with a flushed face.
“…There are too many.”
Jin Sohan nodded.
“There would be.”
“No, I mean… even if there are a lot, this is too much.”
“Shut up. You were bragging seven hundred yesterday…”
“I don’t know. Five hundred, seven hundred… a thousand. Either way, it feels like the whole Blood-Whisper Sect showed up.”
Jin Sohan looked toward the first floor and asked,
“The Blood-Whisper Sect Master?”
“He has to be here. I can’t see him, but with the force they mobilized, he’s definitely here.”
Outside, someone shouted with inner energy behind his voice.
“Dream Kid! Come out and show your face. I’m curious how much you’ve grown.”
Choo Sahyeok looked between Jin Sohan and the outside and said,
“Huh? Dream Kid?”
Jin Sohan let out a small, amused breath.
“My nickname.”
“You knew the Sect Master?”
Jin Sohan answered as he started down the stairs.
“I knew him well… He wanted to take me as his disciple.”
“Ha—”
Choo Sahyeok’s mouth fell open without him realizing it.
Not because of Jin Sohan’s relationship with the Blood-Whisper Sect—
But because Jin Sohan had thrown the Gauze Dance Robe over his black clothes.
Choo Sahyeok blinked and muttered,
“So you really put it on.”
He’d expected it to look ridiculous because it was women’s clothing.
But on Jin Sohan, it became strangely, harmoniously beautiful.
Pink petals fluttering—black robe underneath, like a shadow holding up a bloom.
He couldn’t bring himself to say it suited a man.
So he asked instead,
“Why are you wearing it?”
Jin Sohan answered,
“Because I’m an orphan of the Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe. They should know who they’re killing—and why.”
“Haa…”
In an odd way, Choo Sahyeok understood him.
Jin Sohan stopped at the front doors, spread his arms as if stretching, rolled his neck left and right, and loosened his muscles.
“See you later.”
“Do you really not need help?”
“Just watch.”
“Ah… yes. Don’t die, Troupe Master…”
Jin Sohan shoved the doors open and said,
“Die?…”
The ones who would die today were already gathered outside Moonlit Night Pavilion, like restless dead.
The moment Jin Sohan appeared, curses erupted from every direction.
“You bastard!”
“Orphan bastard!”
“Filthy bastard!”
Then—come out right now, fight, rush me, get on your knees and beg—roared over it all.
Only after they’d poured out a flood of abuse did people finally notice what Jin Sohan was wearing beneath Moonlit Night Pavilion’s light.
“A dancer?”
“That’s what the sword-dance women wear.”
“Is he insane?”
“He’s insane.”
Laughter spread like wildfire.
That outfit was what the women of the Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe often wore when they performed sword-dance.
The Blood-Whisper Sect executives had already told their subordinates the man occupying Moonlit Night Pavilion was an orphan from the Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe.
Now, the crowd belatedly grasped what the outfit meant, and the laughter began to thin out.
Because Jin Sohan looked different.
Whether his enemies laughed or not, Jin Sohan treated the stars watching from the night sky as the eyes of the people he had once lived with in the Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe.
Toward those eyes, Jin Sohan murmured in a calm voice,
“Dream Kid… has come.”
In that instant, Choo Sahyeok—who had meant to stay hidden—walked out with Joyful Death Saber in his grip and took his place behind Jin Sohan.
Jin Sohan said,
“Why did you come out?”
Choo Sahyeok drew a long breath first.
“Hoooo…”
Then he spoke.
“Troupe Master, you looked like you’d be lonely. There are too many of those bastards.”
Jin Sohan answered as if it were absurd.
“Don’t try to set a mood when it’s life and death.”
“You’re the one setting the mood, Troupe Master. Did you meet Zhang Fei or Sainted Emperor Guan in a dream last night? I’ll watch your back. You’re strong, Troupe Master. I’ll get you to the Blood-Whisper Sect Master, no matter what. If we take that bastard’s head, it’s over, isn’t it?”
Jin Sohan’s expression turned serious, and he gave Choo Sahyeok’s shoulder a light tap.
“Choo Sahyeok.”
“Yes.”
“Stand by. This isn’t your place to step in.”
“Hm.”
From somewhere, a middle-aged man’s voice spread softly, wrapped around a sigh.
“Dream Kid… Dream Kid, you bastard! Is it really you? I can’t recognize you at all.”
The Blood-Whisper Sect members parted left and right.
At the end of that opening, a middle-aged man sat on a simple chair, looking at Jin Sohan.
The Blood-Whisper Sect Master, Cheon Amyeong, spoke in a leisurely, lecturing tone.
“Dream Kid. What the hell happened to you that you’re raising this chaos all by yourself? Look at this. Because of you, the whole Blood-Whisper Sect came, didn’t it? At least give me a reason. Say something—then we can cross blades, kill, be killed, whatever it is we’re doing. You ill-mannered bastard.”
Jin Sohan didn’t answer.
He measured the Blood-Whisper Sect’s numbers.
At first glance he counted a hundred, then he swept the whole line again—
More than four hundred.
They’d stretched out like they were occupying the horizon, and the arms reflecting moonlight formed a spectacular, chilling sight.
As Jin Sohan scanned the escorts around the Blood-Whisper Sect Master again, a thought surfaced.
The Sect Master’s younger brother isn’t here…
When Jin Sohan kept silently studying them, Cheon Amyeong spat out a curse.
“Say something! You orphan bastard!”
Cheon Amyeong glared at Jin Sohan and continued.
“What are you going to do? Kill all these men and come to me? Drop the delusion and kneel, you bastard!”
Other executives roared along with their Sect Master.
“Kneel!”
“Kneel, you orphan bastard!”
Curses surged like waves.
Then Jin Sohan walked forward, the Gauze Dance Robe billowing around him as he approached Cheon Amyeong and the Blood-Whisper Sect.
When Jin Sohan advanced without a word, the Blood-Whisper Sect members shut their mouths, stunned.
In that brief silence, Jin Sohan spoke to the Blood-Whisper Sect Master.
“Cheon Amyeong, you rat bastard…”
The instant he said it, the air froze.
Everyone knew the Blood-Whisper Sect Master’s eyes looked like a rat’s.
But it was a thing no one dared say out loud—
And now it rang clearly in every ear.
Jin Sohan’s mouth curled upward.
“You’ve lived long enough to get old, and you’re still this loud.”
Jin Sohan was smiling more freely than he had since arriving on West Black Road.
It felt like his chest had finally cracked open.
Because the Blood-Whisper Sect Master was right in front of him.
I’m going to kill you.
SHIIING—
Twin Moon slid free from Jin Sohan’s waist.
His gaze stayed locked on the Blood-Whisper Sect Master’s face, hiding behind human shields.
With both blades lowered at his sides, Jin Sohan walked toward the Blood-Whisper Sect and said,
“Let’s begin.”
Jin Sohan gradually picked up speed, then sprang into the air with both blades in his hands.
Under his feet, hundreds of blades caught moonlight.
As Jin Sohan fed inner energy into Twin Moon, deep green threads coiled around the edges of the blades.
Those threads were poison—
Poison made by Venom Demon.