Chapter 17: Chapter 17
‘Quite a crowd came.’
Jang I-seo crossed Moonlight Lake and entered the marketplace.
A spy and an assassin were separated by a single sheet of paper. Even if they’d sneaked into the village in secret, him spotting them was only a matter of time.
But…
‘Storming in broad daylight? Openly?’
Hoping to win like this was beyond ridiculous.
“That way! Over there!”
They were even shouting at the top of their lungs, broadcasting their position. Tat-tat-tat-tat. Hammering their heels against the ground, generously revealing exactly how many of them there were.
“No fundamentals. None at all. In my day, we didn’t operate like this.”
Jang I-seo shook his head and calmly stepped into a two-story building.
A narrow corridor. Stairs leading up.
He ascended at a steady pace, neither fast nor slow. Dropped something on the floor. Entered a room at the far end of the second floor and locked the door with a click.
“In here!”
Five, six assassins charged up the stairs in formation.
KWAANG!
A massive explosion engulfed the second floor in thick smoke. Screaming people poured out in panic.
The door of the room Jang I-seo had entered burst open. A middle-aged man emerged, not an old man, stepping indifferently over the bloodied, groaning assassins scattered across the floor.
“Thunderquake Mine…?! He hasn’t come out yet! It’s the old man. Find him!”
More assassins flooded upstairs.
But they would never find the old man.
Why?
‘Slaughterhouse. You started this.’
Their opponent wasn’t just any ordinary old man. He was a master of disguise.
The Hidden Pavilion’s strongest operative. Jang I-seo.
KWAANG!
Another massive explosion rocked the second floor.
*
KWAANG! AAAGH! SLAAASH!
“What the hell is going on out there!”
At the far end of the market, down an alley, sat a rundown building covered in creeping vines.
The Black Dragon Faction’s headquarters. Everyone inside lay flat on the floor, trembling at the explosions and screams echoing from outside.
“B-boss. This has got to be the Martial Alliance fighting the Slaughterhouse!”
“You idiot! What era do you think we’re in! The Martial Alliance invading! And even if they did, they’d go to the Heavenly Demon’s Throne! Why Wolha Village! For what!”
“Maybe they came for us?”
What?
“Have you ever killed a righteous sect member?”
“I’ve never set foot outside the cult in my life.”
“That’s something to be proud of, you bastard! Then what! Damn it all!”
Yong-tae pounded the floor with his fist while lying flat.
They’d hidden here the moment the Slaughterhouse appeared. But the sounds from outside were anything but normal. This level of chaos would be believable if war had broken out.
The sounds grew closer, until finally…
THUMP!
“Hiigh!”
“Ugh!”
Someone pounded violently on the door.
“B-boss. Shouldn’t we check?”
“Lower your voice, you idiot! If no one answers, fuck! Don’t you know basic courtesy? The rice cake seller just moves on!”
“Ah.”
“And I replaced the door yesterday. It’s black oak. Won’t break easily. Yeah. Just stay put.”
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
More pounding. But true to Yong-tae’s word, the door only shook. Solid as ever.
The wind shifted, perhaps. They kept their mouths shut and waited. Silence settled.
“Hah, haha. Gone. They left. Yeah. Gone.”
“Boss was right about the rice cake seller!”
Thank god. Yong-tae and Mae-gi exchanged relieved smiles.
At that moment.
KWAANG!
The door splintered inward. A Slaughterhouse assassin slid across the floor to their feet. Bloodied to a pulp, as usual.
“Did… you call for him?”
“I wish.”
Then…
A man appeared, framed by a corridor of brutally mangled assassins scattered in every direction.
“You two. If you’re not busy, I could use some help.”
Seventh Young Master’s adjutant, Jang I-seo.
He stood there.
* * *
– Wolha Village, Seventh Small Palace.
Click. Click.
The top-knotted man sat on the porch, noisily fidgeting with three round pebbles.
His name was Mak-gwi.
Sixth rank in the Slaughterhouse. The junior among the officers.
But whether judging by skill or by those cold eyes, calling him “junior” was a stretch.
The Slaughterhouse’s rank and file aside, from Mak-gwi upward, every officer was a genuine master whose name carried weight across the land.
And Mao, watching from a distance with sidelong glances, felt this viscerally.
‘Has this bastard trained in unarmed combat?’
No matter how he looked, there was no visible weapon. But those cold eyes felt more threatening than a well-forged blade.
A man who had crushed human lives like ants. You could tell at a glance.
Add to that a height no shorter than Mao’s, and the torn sleeves of his robe revealing dense, corded muscle.
Definitely not ordinary.
But letting him linger like this indefinitely wasn’t an option either.
“Hey. How long are you going to sit here? You said you came to deliver a message. So open your mouth and say it.”
“…”
“What. What are you going to do, staring at me?”
Click. Click. Mak-gwi silently rolled the pebbles, then spoke low.
“I have two things to convey. One is to advise restraint.”
“And the other?”
Click. Click. Mak-gwi pressed the pebbles harder and finished.
“Self-restraint.”
Same thing, rephrased. Tell him to shut up. Mao scowled fiercely. But he couldn’t press further. He knew Mak-gwi hadn’t come simply to deliver words.
Even now, Mak-gwi showed no further interest in Mao, scanning the bamboo forest instead. As if waiting for someone to be dragged into this clearing.
And who that someone was, even someone as ignorant as Mao could figure out.
‘Jang I-su. He’s waiting for that bastard.’
Just as they’d done to Cheol-yeong and Jang-deuk before. This time, they meant to make an example of the adjutant who’d been running his mouth.
But Mao was triumphant.
‘Hmph. That bastard’s different from Cheol-yeong and Jang-deuk. He’s got no loyalty to me, and he already skipped town long ago.’
So today, the Slaughterhouse would accomplish nothing. They’d come up empty-handed and go home.
Hahaha! A booming laugh echoed in his chest.
But,
“Ah, I nearly forgot. If the man we’re waiting for shows up today, we’ll take only his head and leave. But if he doesn’t…”
“Huh?”
“Wolha Village becomes a sea of fire. Villagers, livestock, everything. A massive wildfire is scheduled to reduce it all to ash. Kekekeke.”
“You insane bastards…!”
Mak-gwi bared rows of teeth and laughed like a beast.
Seeing this, Mao’s head swam. This was openly declaring all-out war. No matter how formidable the Sa brothers were, this crossed every line within the Demonic Cult.
And there was only one reason they’d hatch such an outrageous plan.
Because he had given his permission.
“Ma I-sin…”
The man destined to become head of the Ma family, the Demonic Cult’s most powerful house.
The Bloodless Duke, Ma I-sin.
His permission.
“Therefore, the Seventh Young Master would be wise to hope that man comes to us. Unless you wish to watch the place you live turn to cinders.”
At Mak-gwi’s mocking words, Mao jumped up and shouted.
“He’s not here! That bastard isn’t here, you piece of shit!”
“Then it can’t be helped. A fire will break out here today, quite by chance.”
“You crazy son of a bitch!”
Mao spat curses and lunged forward. Or rather, was about to.
Shhh. Shhh.
The bamboo rustled. A low voice drifted from the dark forest.
“Power is only worth using when there’s value in using it. So remember. In moments like this, two words are all you need.”
Mao’s eyes filled with disbelief. Surprise and bewilderment registered on Mak-gwi’s face.
Footstep, footstep.
Steady, measured steps.
A man with a plain face who somehow looked better than usual today.
“‘Clear out.’ Those two words.”
“You…”
“Adjutant Jang I-seo. I’m late.”
He had appeared at the Seventh Small Palace.
*
Jang I-seo swept the surroundings the moment he entered.
Two on the left. Three on the right. One on the roof.
Not many, but each a cut above the men outside.
And the one perched on the porch directly ahead.
‘Slaughterhouse rank six. The top-knotted assassin, Mak-gwi?’
Click, click. Ostentatiously rolling pebbles. Genuinely cold eyes. Corded muscle. A first meeting, yet this man was already filed away in Jang I-seo’s memory. Which meant one thing.
‘A Demonic Cult master.’
Over more than a decade, Jang I-seo had catalogued every high-level expert in the Demonic Cult. Mak-gwi’s name was firmly on that list.
“You’ve defied my expectations twice.”
As Jang I-seo approached within ten paces, Mak-gwi spoke with what sounded like genuine surprise.
“I didn’t expect the man from the portrait to come in person. Nor did I expect him to walk in on two feet instead of being dragged.”
Jang I-seo shrugged and replied casually.
“You’re stupider than you look. But you turned out exactly as I predicted. Top-knotted assassin, Mak-gwi. I knew you’d be the one coming.”
“H-how?!”
Mao, why are you the one freaking out? And of course he hadn’t actually known. Bluffing.
“Heh heh heh. No one said I was arrogant.”
“Then I suppose no one’s said you’re strong, either. I’d suggest questioning the Slaughterhouse’s intelligence apparatus. Or whoever fed you that information hates you considerably. Do you accumulate many grudges?”
Click, click. The pebbles in Mak-gwi’s hand ground together harder. A measure of his anger.
“You don’t need to work your mouth so hard begging for death. You’ll die regardless.”
“Then spend that time bowing. Tell Timur Khan you’ll be seeing him soon.”
“You bastard…”
Crumbble. The pebbles in Mak-gwi’s grip turned to powder and trickled between his fingers. Extraordinary grip strength. To a descendant of the Yuan, insulting the Khan was the same as insulting one’s parents.
“Counter-Espionage Division background, was it? Clearly, you fear nothing.”
“That’s part of it. But even without it, you’d have underestimated me. Ignorant and easy to read.”
“Heh heh heh. I’ve changed my mind. Today I’ll kill you and burn Wolha Village to the ground.”
Mak-gwi signaled with his chin. The assassins on both sides began closing the distance. On the roof, a small crossbow was loaded with a poisoned bolt, string drawn taut.
Watching this, Mao went pale.
What on earth was Jang I-su relying on, provoking the enemy like this?
“Stop! Both of you, stop! This man is not my adjutant! I won’t take in anyone, adjutant or servant. Not ever! Tell that to my brother! So…”
“That’s not it, though.”
But right then.
Jang I-seo stared at him steadily and cut him off.
Not it? What’s not it?
“I told you clearly. In moments like this, two words are all you need.”
“You…”
Mao’s trembling eyes darted between him and the surroundings.
FWA-FWA-FWASH! The assassins launched. TWING! The bolt flew from the roof. Mak-gwi threw his head back and roared for blood.
Yet Jang I-seo stood rooted like a monolith. Motionless.
Staring at Mao. At Mao alone.
Crazy bastard.
But somehow, he didn’t know why.
A hollow laugh formed on Mao’s lips. Because it was too absurd. No. Because Jang I-seo’s expression looked as tedious and serene as a repeated day at a village school.
So he laughed.
Even though the situation was undeniably dire.
And so…
As if possessed, he said it.
“Clear out.”
To which Jang I-seo raised the corners of his mouth and answered.
So refreshingly it cleared the chest.
“Command. Received.”