As Jin Sohan approached, Cheon Amyeong—who had never intended to run in the first place—spoke while still seated in his chair.
“Dream Kid… do you want revenge that badly?”
Jin Sohan didn’t answer. He looked down at Twin Moon’s blades. He had cut down well over a hundred men, so the Walk-to-Death Mist Poison was nearly spent, and the blood caked onto the blades was hardening, making the poison’s efficacy fade more and more.
It was exactly what he’d expected, so it didn’t move him. Instead, he’d stood here in front of Cheon Amyeong with his inner energy and stamina preserved.
Jin Sohan suddenly let out a small chuckle and stepped closer to Cheon Amyeong.
“What are you trying to say?”
As Jin Sohan approached with cold scorn clinging to his voice, Cheon Amyeong continued.
“Dream Kid, be honest. You didn’t do all this bullshit just to get revenge.”
Jin Sohan answered.
“What kind of bullshit are you talking.”
Cheon Amyeong made a rough gesture with both hands toward the asura-like devastation.
“Look at this… If you wanted to kill me, with your skill you could’ve come straight for me from the start. What the hell is this supposed to be? What’s your sect lineage, anyway?”
“None of your business.”
Cheon Amyeong rose slowly from the chair and kept going.
“Most of the ones you killed weren’t even there when we hit the Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe. And in the middle of the fight you even killed the Ghost-Slaughter Unit Leader. That bastard—he was one of the ones who went to wipe out the Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe… and he’s already dead by your hand, you son of a bitch. You killed plenty of men who had nothing to do with the Mystic Lunar Dance Troupe, too. Wasn’t it enough to just kill me, the one who gave the order? Through this slaughter, what are you trying to do?”
While Cheon Amyeong spoke like he was lecturing, the sect men backed off even farther, and the Blood-Whisper Sect’s elite experts approached to surround Jin Sohan. But they had all taken an antidote poison that could, at least for a time, ward off the poison mist, and they had even pulled masks over their faces.
That antidote poison was the kind of “fight poison with poison” method—using one poison to suppress another—and in the Unorthodox Faction it had developed into a hallucinogen-like form.
When Jin Sohan swept his gaze around, Cheon Amyeong was grinning.
“You and I are the same kind of man. Wait. I’m not done talking yet. Dream Kid—if I die for you, are you going to take these men in and use them? Are you—”
Cheon Amyeong didn’t even finish, and Jin Sohan rushed in, slashing with the blade in his right hand.
CLANG!
Cheon Amyeong knocked Jin Sohan’s blade aside as he drew his sword, but he was being shoved backward. Cheon Amyeong using a sword… that was unexpected for Jin Sohan.
Even so, Cheon Amyeong’s blood and qi were churning violently, like they had flipped inside him from being driven back by a single strike.
In that moment, the masked assassins—and Cheon Taemyeong mixed among them—charged in, swinging their blades.
The six assassins were Cheon Taemyeong’s disciples and unit leaders who had been hiding.
Cheon Taemyeong and his disciples used the same saber technique, producing an effect like a sect formation. Their inner energy was on an entirely different level from ordinary sect men, so every time Twin Moon collided with their weapons, CLANG! rang out in a rapid chain.
Because they’d practiced their coordination, they held against Jin Sohan’s twin blades with alternating pressure and combined timing.
Jin Sohan, too, was drawing up more inner energy, so sparks burst ceaselessly from the two blades.
Then Jin Sohan carefully read the eyes of the men around him.
‘They took that antidote poison. That’s why they’re coming at me so boldly.’
The Blood-Whisper Sect’s officers believed they were enduring the poison mist in the air because of the antidote poison they had taken.
But the hilts of Jin Sohan’s blades were already out of Walk-to-Death Mist Poison. And with the wind blowing, even the mist that had been drifting in the air had scattered fairly cleanly.
Jin Sohan saw straight through their state of mind.
The gap was that they thought their prepared antidote poison had “blocked” Jin Sohan’s poison. And Jin Sohan was a man who drove his blade into gaps.
Because that antidote poison cost money, it couldn’t be issued to every subordinate. So the Blood-Whisper Sect men who had died earlier truly had been sacrificed as bait to measure Jin Sohan’s skill and his method of attack. Jin Sohan’s thought on that was this:
‘Just like the Blood-Whisper Sect.’
Either way, the officers rushing him now were on a higher level than ordinary sect men in both weapon-handling and inner energy.
When Cheon Amyeong himself charged back in, seven sabers and one sword pummeled Jin Sohan in a tight ring.
CLANG! CLANG!
Jin Sohan swung Twin Moon while being perfectly surrounded by experts made up of the Blood-Whisper Sect Master, the Deputy Sect Master, select unit leaders, and disciples.
There was no expression on his face.
Jin Sohan blocked their attacks as if he had no emotion at all. He didn’t counterattack—he focused only on defense.
And he didn’t even try to break out of the encirclement. It was as if he had the confidence that merely standing in place and swinging Twin Moon was enough to stop every strike the Blood-Whisper Sect experts could throw at him.
As Jin Sohan only blocked, ghostlike… the minds of the attackers were warning them of something.
‘Something’s wrong.’
When Cheon Amyeong slammed Twin Moon aside and retreated for a beat… Cheon Taemyeong in his mask and the other officers also pulled back, circling Jin Sohan in the center.
The moment the officers stopped attacking, Jin Sohan abruptly pressed the two blades together upside down. The hilts met, and a magnetic mechanism of suction-iron rang out with a harsh metallic click.
CLACK—!
When Jin Sohan gripped the central handle, it became a twin-edged crescent saber longer than a longsword. A weapon with crescent blades extending from both left and right of the grip.
It was a weapon the Blood-Whisper Sect had never seen.
“Huh…”
Even Cheon Amyeong, seasoned as he was, craned his neck forward, studying Jin Sohan and the bizarre weapon as if he’d never seen anything like it in his life.
“Truly a strange weapon.”
As if taking a short rest, Jin Sohan drew out the White Fan with his left hand, fanning lazily as he said,
“Looks like you all swallowed a pretty effective antidote poison.”
One masked man answered.
“Poison mist has its limits. It’ll be efficient against subordinates with shallow inner energy, but—”
At that, Jin Sohan replied with a look of sheer disbelief.
“Yeah? Don’t tell me you’re the only ones who got to swallow it. Impressive.”
Cheon Amyeong smiled softly.
“Dream Kid, are you tired? Still, your skill was truly impressive. If you’re willing to talk, I’ll give you time to rest.”
Jin Sohan continued to fan the White Fan back and forth as he said,
“Sect Master Cheon, I’m sick of lectures. Even without you, I’ve lived my whole life listening to lectures.”
“It’s not a lecture. The only one clinging to the past here is you. Even you killing my men is only the past. What does revenge give you? It’s already an old story.”
“……”
“Dream Kid—if you have your skill, you can leave West Black Road with me and expand our power. You don’t think I’m the type to be satisfied with holding West Black Road, do you? Later, I’ll give you all of West Black Road outright. Putting people under your feet isn’t something martial arts alone can accomplish. Dream Kid, your skill has changed beyond recognition… so broaden your thinking, too. Learn under me. I’ll teach you the Unorthodox Faction.”
“You’ll teach me the Unorthodox Faction?”
“At your age—mid-twenties… do you think you understand the Unorthodox Faction well? It’s a realm different from martial arts.”
With a sour expression, Jin Sohan snapped the White Fan shut with a sharp flicking sound and slipped it into the pocket of his robe. Then he split Twin Moon apart again and, in an instant, slid both blades into their sheaths. It was so fast there wasn’t the slightest opening for anyone to interfere.
In that moment, Cheon Taemyeong and the masked men all looked at Cheon Amyeong at once.
‘Strike?’
That was the question in their eyes. Jin Sohan had disarmed.
But Cheon Amyeong was smiling at Jin Sohan’s actions.
“Hahaha… This doesn’t feel bad. You’re ready to talk.”
Of course, Cheon Amyeong had no intention of talking at all. But what he said aloud was the opposite.
“Dream Kid, it’s not too late for us yet.”
This time, Jin Sohan casually answered as he pulled off the Gauze Dance Robe dancer costume he’d been wearing over his clothes.
“I wanted to find out whether my master’s poison is incredible, or whether the antidote poison you swallowed is superior. The poison mist I spread earlier already lost its potency…”
“What?”
With the dancer costume removed, Jin Sohan was once again a black-clothed person.
As Jin Sohan’s atmosphere seemed to change in an instant, Cheon Amyeong—uneasy—asked,
“What are you talking about?”
Jin Sohan looked over the eyes of the officers, then slowly opened his mouth.
“So, what I mean is… maybe three?”
“What?”
“Or maybe two…”
Cheon Amyeong hurriedly turned his head, checking his subordinates.
Jin Sohan spoke in a leisurely tone.
“For now… one.”
With those words, the officer with the lowest inner energy pitched forward as Drunken Dream Powder’s poison energy spread through him. But it wasn’t just one. The masked men’s heads began striking the ground one after another.
THUD… THUD… THUD…!
Cheon Taemyeong staggered back, then tore off his mask and flung it away, snarling.
“You son of a bitch…”
Even Cheon Taemyeong could barely stand. And of course, neither could Cheon Amyeong.
With his eyes going hazy, Cheon Amyeong saw Jin Sohan as two, then three, his mind spinning. Only then did Jin Sohan’s actions flash into his head.
‘…The fan?’
Now, to Cheon Amyeong’s eyes, Jin Sohan looked like a ghost split into dozens of afterimages.
As Cheon Amyeong’s vision began to fail, he heard the sound of someone’s bones breaking. It seemed the ones who had passed out were being killed by Jin Sohan. Even as he tried to drive out the poison, Cheon Amyeong felt the emptiness of life.
Regardless, Jin Sohan was killing the masked men first.
In the middle of that dizziness, Cheon Amyeong could still hear Jin Sohan’s voice clearly.
“Who do you think is teaching who the Unorthodox Faction.”
The moment he heard that, Cheon Amyeong’s knees hit the ground.