"Snap out of it!"
A shout as clear as a bell ringing right beside his ear!
So Se-gi forced his eyes wide. Before him, a fishing line dropped to the ground--a blurry image.
"Kraagh, aaagh!"
Death throes rang out.
No need to look--it had to be Wang Gyeong-jong and the Black-White Impermanence, caged in the iron bars.
"Kch!"
A searing pain flared at his tailbone.
Hot blood ran from the cleft of his buttocks down his thigh.
Stagger, stagger.
A figure who had been on the verge of striking at Wang Gyeong-jong and the others dropped the bamboo pole and slumped to the ground.
His body quaking like a trembling aspen, before his bloodshot eyes lay three men sprawled in heaps, the whites of their eyes showing.
"Kgh."
"Tch. They're all dead--one left."
Second Young Master Namgung Byeok said, looking around.
But no one answered.
They only gazed at the three corpses and the collapsed man with complicated eyes.
Kill or be killed.
Slaughter was a common enough affair in the murim, but seeing the dead right before their eyes, they could not help feeling uneasy.
"Who are you--"
Before Namgung Pil-su could finish the question, the grinding of teeth came from inside the iron-barred wagon.
"Fuck! Jiujiang Four Fiends! Why the hell were you trying to kill us?!"
The Jiujiang Four Fiends--notorious unorthodox masters based primarily around Jiujiang in Jiangxi Province, southwest of Anhui, who had sworn brotherhood. Wanted for every crime imaginable--murder, assault, fraud, extortion--they had once been placed on the Righteous Alliance's wanted list as enemies of the murim.
Of course, the Righteous Alliance had since been dissolved and the world now belonged to Blood Sand Wind, so all of that had quietly been swept under the rug.
That aside--a fishing rod!
No, the man he had let slip before was someone else.
Hyeol-u's thoughts deepened a little.
The other three were dead and good riddance, but the Jiujiang First Fiend, Seok Jung-rae, was worth keeping alive.
He had close ties to the Rogues' Guild, after all.
White Impermanence spoke up first, and Wang Gyeong-jong immediately joined in with a shout.
"First Fiend! Did your elder brother put you up to this?"
"You're asking because you don't know? You're losers. Losers have nothing to say, and it's a disgrace that you're still alive. Unlike me......!"
Prick.
The First Fiend's hand froze as he drove it toward his own throat.
Before he knew it, the Pool at the Bend acupoint had been sealed, and the Crimson Palace acupoint at the center of his chest, the Giant Gate acupoint on his shoulder, and the Brain Door acupoint at the back of his skull were all struck nearly simultaneously.
"Graaah, graaagh."
The Jiujiang First Fiend writhed in agony, screaming.
The sound of bones wrenching out of alignment made everyone grimace.
Then the bones of his face twisted grotesquely, and tears and snot overflowed like a flood.
Only for a moment--the front of his trousers grew damp, and the seat of his pants turned yellow as a foul stench rose.
"Grrrghhhh......"
The Jiujiang First Fiend could not even scream anymore; he lay face-down on the ground, his body shaking violently.
His flattened pupils trembled pitifully.
"Please...... that's enough!"
Jegal Su-ran could not bear it any longer and cried out.
Even in the Jegal Clan's punishment hall, torture was carried out on the most heinous criminals from time to time.
But she had never seen anyone tortured simply by striking acupoints.
Hyeol-u, who had been watching the Jiujiang First Fiend with dispassionate eyes, finally spoke.
"Get lost. You stink, so wash up before you go anywhere."
"Wh......? I-I can go?"
"I said go. Before I change my mind."
SCRAMBLE.
The Jiujiang First Fiend bolted--so Hyeol-u waved him off.
'Shit, did he already change his mind?'
The First Fiend's eyes went dark with dread.
If only he could escape this bastard, he would bow before a water ghost itself.
"Take those people with you."
"......Ah, y-yes sir."
The Jiujiang First Fiend hoisted one corpse onto his back and tied it there, then dragged the other two by hand and vanished in a hurry.
***
"Hey! Why did you let that guy go?"
To Namgung Byeok's words, Hyeol-u simply grinned.
"The Jiujiang Four Fiends were sworn brothers, weren't they? By the bonds of brotherhood, the dead deserve a proper burial."
How perfectly nonchalant.
As if someone else were responsible for those deaths.
"No, what I'm asking is--that bastard attacked us on the Huizhou Merchant Guild's orders, so why did you let him go on your own?"
"On my own? Take that up with the Seventh Elder."
"With the Elder......?"
Namgung Pil-su shook his head and answered.
"He says the man will be trailing behind us by tomorrow, so let's wait and see."
"......Pardon?"
Namgung Byeok stared as though he had seen a ghost.
How could he possibly know it was the Fortress Vein-Sealing Technique--a secret acupoint art unique to the Black Dragon Temple?
Depending on the practitioner's level, the onset of seizures could be controlled at will, and if left untreated for a fortnight, the victim would wither and die like a desiccated husk.
Having gone from the Jiujiang Four Fiends to the Jiujiang One Fiend in the blink of an eye, Seok Jung-rae dragged his sworn brothers' corpses down the mountain with bloodshot eyes.
By nature a man of ironclad resolve and backbone, he could not believe he had been played by that young brat.
Pride and everything else--his very sense of identity had crumbled in a single moment, and the self-loathing gnawed at him.
Say what anyone will, he had spent ten years in the jianghu, surviving countless brushes with death, building up his pride--and now it had all washed away like duckweed on a current.
After burying his brothers on a sunny slope of Phoenix Form Mountain and washing himself in a stream, Seok Jung-rae made a vow.
He would kill that brat even if it cost him his life.
The next morning, as he trailed the Namgung Clan's party at a distance, paralysis crept from his legs through his entire body.
He happened upon a shabby shrine to Lord Guan beside the river and went in to circulate his qi. When a parching thirst dried his mouth, terror seized him.
Had he not felt his tongue go numb just yesterday?
The agony of every bone and every cell in his body going rigid was not the kind of thing a human being could endure.
A moment later, the paralysis subsided--only for the gnawing itch of ants chewing through his blood vessels to take its place.
He vomited from above and evacuated from below.
He had no idea how many times he had blacked out and come to.
The saying "a moment feels like three autumns" must have been coined for exactly this.
Barely clinging to consciousness, Seok Jung-rae threw himself into movement arts with every ounce of strength he had left.
He had to find them. He had to beg for his life.
Fortunately, the Namgung Clan's party was having a late breakfast near the ferry crossing on the An River, along the Yangtze.
Several pots hung over fires, and the group sat in a wide circle eating rice and soup. An unhurried scene.
Inside the iron-barred wagon, Wang Gyeong-jong and the Black-White Impermanence were engrossed in their own meal of rice soaked in hot broth.
It seemed that more than half of the martial artists who had been tailing them had dropped away as well.
That was because of the rumor that three of the notorious Jiujiang Four Fiends had died at Namgung Seong's hands and only one barely escaped--but Seok Jung-rae did not know that.
Even if he had, it would have changed nothing.
"Why did he come? Tch! Who does he think he is, some kind of prophet?"
Namgung Byeok's mouth was itching again, it seemed.
Golden Swordhand So Se-gi's gaze sharpened at the mockery.
Perhaps because Namgung Seong had saved his life when he was on the brink of death, hearing the man insulted felt like he himself was being mocked.
"Hey, Namgung Byeok. Why do you always have to run your mouth like that?"
Jegal Su-ran slammed her bowl down and snapped.
Namgung Byeok's face reddened.
"What kind of thing is that to say? Did I say anything that wasn't true? Look--that guy Namgung Seong let go yesterday isn't comi--huh?"
Namgung Byeok trailed off mid-excuse.
Everyone stopped eating and turned their eyes upstream along the river.
Right there--the Jiujiang First Fiend was scrambling toward them in a frantic sprint.
"What brings you here?"
Hyeol-u spooned rice into his soup, not even looking up.
Seok Jung-rae, tears and snot streaming, threw himself flat on the ground and wept.
"Urghh, I-I can't take it anymore. P-please, save me."
"Ha, what's all this about? If people heard, they'd think I was trying to kill you."
Hyeol-u feigned total ignorance.
A restraint art like the Fortress Vein-Sealing Technique was taboo, alongside corpse arts, soul-binding, and seduction techniques.
If word got out that Namgung Seong, Third Young Master of the Namgung Clan, employed such arts, nothing good would come of it.
"B-but...... still......"
"Oh, enough. Relationships are give and take. If I save your life, what are you going to give me?"
"I-I'll serve you like a d-dog or a horse......"
"Ha, you're not getting it. If you were a dog or a horse, I wouldn't even bother talking to you."
"Aah...... I......"
What did he have to give?
Wracking his brain with every fiber of his being, Seok Jung-rae's gaze happened to fall on the dozens of martial artists gathered about a hundred jang behind the party.
"......Ah! There is something. Yes, there is."
"And what would that be?"
His lips moved, but no sound came out.
He had sent a telepathic message.
-- ......Among those martial artists, there's Sagong Dan, the Yangtze Water Ghost--the strategist of the Yangtze Waterway Strongholds!
Yangtze Water Ghost, Sagong Dan.
The man whose every cunning scheme and stratagem had made the Yangtze Waterway Alliance what it was today. Rumored to be the sworn brother of Alliance Leader Tang Sun, the Water Dragon Hegemon.
In other words, he was no mere bookish scholar.
-- How did you learn that?
-- The truth is, there's someone from the Rogues' Guild among those martial artists......
-- Oh? Then what's your connection to the Rogues' Guild?
-- Th-that much, I can't......
This was the limit.
Everyone had lines they would not cross.
Lines that had to be held.
"Fine, fine. That aside--go find us a horse ferry."
"Y-yes sir."
The Jiujiang First Fiend, Seok Jung-rae, leapt to his feet, bowed deeply, and dashed off toward a riverside village not far from the crossing.
The entire party stared at Hyeol-u with dumbfounded faces.
What on earth just happened?
And before long, there was Seok Jung-rae, sailing back up toward them aboard a large horse ferry.
"Luckily, there was a boat available."
"Good work."
Hyeol-u did not bother asking who he had borrowed the ferry from or what the fare was.
The Rogues' Guild would have handled it.
The ferry was large enough that even after loading the wagons, the carriage, and several horses, space remained.
Just then, a loud voice rang out from behind.
"Hey now, let's ride together! The four seas are one, as they say--no need to be so stingy!"
-- That man is the Yangtze Water Ghost, Sagong Dan. Seems he's up to something.
Hyeol-u gave a quiet nod.
Even if it took time, a ferry that had dropped off passengers on the far bank would eventually return to pick up more on this side. What reason was there to muscle onto someone else's boat?
The man in question was a scholar-type in his thirties, fanning himself with a short white-feather fan.
Tall, well-suited in silk robes and topknot crown--a figure of refined elegance.
Not knowing his identity, one would have pegged him as a poet on a scenic tour. And yet this was the Yangtze Water Ghost.
"No! Don't let him on!"
For whatever reason, Second Young Master Namgung Byeok waved his hand and strode toward the wide plank bridging the wharf and the ferry.
The white-feather-fan gentleman stood on that plank, and the helmsman was in the process of pulling it up.
"Second Young Master, one moment."
Golden Swordhand So Se-gi blocked Namgung Byeok's path and glanced at Hyeol-u, several paces away.
Hyeol-u gave a light nod--let him board.
Namgung Byeok followed So Se-gi's gaze and whipped around, a look of utter disgust on his face.
'Damn it, so my word means nothing but that bastard's orders are law?'
Having crossed the gangplank, the man approached with an easy stride and clasped his hands in greeting.
"Much obliged. Truly befitting the renowned Namgung Clan--never turning a blind eye to a stranger's need."
"Ah, that's kind of you to say. You seem to be in quite a hurry?"
"Yes. A relative of mine has been possessed by a water ghost and is barely hanging on, so I'm rushing to see them. If I'm not careful, they may die before I can see their face."
"I see. We can call this fate, then--make yourself comfortable."
When Hyeol-u readily agreed, a flicker of surprise crossed the man's face.
'That's odd. I heard he was a vicious devil, but is the rumor overblown?'
Hyeol-u moved past him and leaned against the starboard railing.
Whitecaps rode the rough current, bubbling and spraying foam onto the deck.
-- Seventh Elder, the man who just boarded is the Yangtze Water Ghost, Sagong Dan. He's probably planning something.
Namgung Pil-su gave a slight nod.
Any trace of surprise vanished at once.
As he stood there, Jegal Su-ran came walking over.
"No matter when I see it, the Yangtze really is wide. It must be over a hundred jang to the other side."
"......"
"Oh, come on--talk to me. Do you have some grudge against me? If the Namgung Clan wants to reclaim its former standing, it's going to need the cooperation of other clans, you know."
Well now. She had hit the nail on the head.
Considering why the Namgung Clan had assembled this impromptu prisoner escort and marched out into the jianghu, the answer was not hard to deduce.
"So you're proposing we bury the hatchet?"
Even as they talked, his senses were focused beneath the boat.
'Wait! At least three or four people are clinging to the hull.'
Fast!
Sagong Dan must have signaled them the moment he came aboard.
Seventh Elder Namgung Pil-su gave him a wink.
He seemed to have noticed the suspicious presence under the hull as well.
"Of course. The Namgung and Jegal clans have been on good terms since ancient times, haven't they?"
"As long as the Jegal Clan doesn't pull any unnecessary tricks, there's no reason for that to change."
"Unnecessary tricks--like what?"
"You're asking because you don't know?"
"I don't know! I really don't!"
'They're men trained in specialized underwater combat.'
Even while conversing, his qi sense remained fixed on what was happening beneath the water.
An ordinary person could barely last half a quarter-hour submerged, yet they had been under for a full quarter-hour already.
A funny thought occurred to him.
Sagong Dan, gripping the auxiliary mast on the port side, was trembling every time the boat rocked violently--despite his alias of Water Ghost.
That was the classic reaction of someone who feared the water.
By contrast, Hyeol-u, in his days as the Hell Reaper, had once spent three days and nights hiding in a cesspit to assassinate an enemy commander.
'Ha. Are those children having a lovers' quarrel? Why so childish? When something could go down any second.'
Yangtze Water Ghost Sagong Dan fanned himself vigorously with his feather fan, the smile firmly etched at the corners of his mouth half-hidden behind it.
Right about now, the Red Scale Unit operatives clinging to the hull should be waiting for his signal.
Punch through the hull and sink the boat--mission complete.
CREEEAK, SWOOOOSH!
The horse ferry had crossed the halfway point of the river. Just as a wave the size of a house heaved the vessel skyward--
'Now! Here we go!'