Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Jang I-seo rolled his shoulders in a wide windmill motion, then raised his right hand as if about to launch a projectile, settling into a diagonal stance.
With determined eyes, he murmured.
“Eight thousand nine hundred seventy-second attempts. Here we go.”
Without any preparatory stance, he thrust his hand forward in a straight line.
A white flying dagger trailing a steel wire shot forth like a streak of light.
The same concealed weapon he’d used to kill Fifth Grade Ghost Yong-u.
But this time, something was different. Before, it had been fast as lightning. This time.
『White Thunder』
Flash! The dark cavern blazed white in an instant.
CRACK! The flying dagger became a veritable bolt of white lightning, hurtling toward the wall.
Unbelievable speed. Who could possibly evade this? Anyone struck would die instantly.
But the challenge was only beginning.
CLACK!
Like a key sliding into a lock, the dagger embedded itself precisely into the groove at the center of the wall. The thin steel wire drew taut naturally.
A faint smile briefly touched Jang I-seo’s lips. Lucky today. Getting it in on the first try was difficult enough as it was.
Now for the next step.
VWOOM!
His internal energy surged powerfully enough to shake the entire cavern.
His clothes fluttered, his hair streamed outward.
But even so, it was merely first-rate level.
For a spy, it was actually lacking. Impure internal energy, nothing but turbid.
The real technique was this.
『Thunder Circulation Method』
Bzzt, bzzzt! The impure internal energy circulating through his meridians suddenly began to transform into lightning qi. Then the flow of energy, which had been creeping sluggishly through his meridians, accelerated explosively. No, not just fast. It became light itself!
Light blazed from his eyes, and KWAANG!
Reaching its peak, thunder crackled and lightning writhed around his body with a deafening roar.
“Let’s end this now!”
BZZZT!
The lightning qi erupting from Jang I-seo’s body traveled straight along the steel wire into the dagger embedded in the wall.
Then, something astonishing happened.
Flash, flash!
White light traced along the maze-like grooves filling the wall, racing through them at incredible speed.
A magnificent spectacle, unbelievable even as you watched it.
What was more astonishing was that as the light filled the grooves and they gradually revealed themselves, the pattern resembled the face of a demon.
That was why this place was called the Demon Wall.
Before long, the light had passed the halfway point, racing toward the demon’s final two eyes.
‘Just a little more. Just a little more.’
Jang I-seo’s heart burned as his internal energy depleted rapidly. He squeezed out every last drop of power, down to the dregs of an infant’s reserves.
For seven full years, he had made over nine thousand attempts to succeed.
This time, he would do it. Definitely.
“GRAAAAH!”
A final scream, as if incinerating his very soul.
But,
Fzzzzz.
Unfortunately, a deflating sound, like a defeated husband who’d lost his spirit, echoed through the cavern.
Then the light vanished without mercy.
Failure.
Snap! He yanked the wire and retrieved the dagger. The steel wire coiled around his wrist, and the dagger slid smoothly back into the wrist guard.
“Ah, damn it.”
Thud. Jang I-seo collapsed spread-eagle on the floor, completely spent.
“Haa, hah…”
Each ragged breath reeked of char.
But what an astonishing and unprecedented realm. To emit lightning from a human body.
Furthermore, internal energy was supposed to be determined by whichever cultivation method one practiced. That was the orthodox rule. Jang I-seo had turned his turbid internal energy into supreme lightning qi.
An ability so mysterious it would be nearly impossible to find anywhere in the Central Plains.
This was it.
The treasures obtained from the Heavenly Demon Treasury.
Specifically, three.
The first was the white flying dagger with a thin steel wire, White Thunder.
The second was a wild ginseng that had grown on a coastal cliff after being struck by lightning, Thunder Lord Ginseng.
And the third.
The Thunder Circulation Method, which converted internal energy into lightning qi.
Indeed. This Heavenly Demon Treasury was a secret vault left behind long ago by someone wishing to pass their martial arts to future generations.
This was how Jang I-seo had encountered his breakthrough opportunity within the Demonic Cult.
The problem was…
“There’s no progress. None.”
The Thunder Circulation Method wasn’t a cultivation method. It was closer to a demonic art that converted already-accumulated internal energy into explosive lightning qi, drastically accelerating the flow of energy.
The Thunder Lord Ginseng was a spirit medicine that allowed the body to withstand such lightning qi.
And White Thunder was a one-strike kill weapon capable of containing that power at maximum capacity.
He understood everything and made it his own.
Thanks to this, he could produce instantaneous but explosive speed and power.
Though there were no instructions, only mnemonic verses, Jang I-seo’s innate genius had made it possible.
And Jang I-seo had intuited something.
This wasn’t the end. The moment the mural’s grooves were completely filled with light, a door to the next stage would open.
“But I can’t pull it off. The reason’s obvious. This godforsaken rotten dantian. Internal energy is the fuel for the Thunder Circulation Method. But when you feed it turbid, impure firewood like this, the flame’s bound to sputter out.”
Jang I-seo was undeniably Genius Agent 103, acknowledged even by the Hidden Pavilion.
But while the heavens had granted him the talent to grasp martial subtleties and express them through movement, the foundation, his dantian, would not allow it.
He didn’t have severed meridians, but he was born with congenitally turbid meridians and a dantian pierced with nine holes, preventing him from accumulating internal energy beyond a certain threshold. The Nine-Orifice Body.
That was the problem.
Thanks to the Thunder Circulation Method, he had transcended his congenital physical limitations and could move like lightning. But with his meager internal energy, even that had a ceiling he couldn’t break through.
“Well, maybe tomorrow.”
But the kind of man who could laugh off even these hopeless attempts and turn them into motivation, that was Jang I-seo.
He sprang to his feet and headed for the weapon display racks.
“Let’s see. What would make the Division Commander fold?”
Counter-Espionage Division Commander Gyeom Sa-ik.
Forty-two years old. Curly long hair flowing to his shoulders. Many women, no wife. Vile temperament, but he took good care of his subordinates’ lives. So quite a few followed him loyally.
His rank was Division Commander, Fourth Grade Ghost. But his actual skill rivaled a Hall Master, a Second Grade Ghost.
For reference, there were only five Hall Masters in the entire Demonic Cult.
In other words, even combining the Left and Right Emissaries, the Seven Elders, the Cult Leader’s children, and every hidden expert, Gyeom Sa-ik was easily a force capable of ranking within the top fifty.
“And yet he won’t get promoted. Why? Because the money’s too good. I wouldn’t either. If I were Division Commander, I’d have filled this whole place up by now. Lucky bastard. So lucky.”
To think he had to hand over his painstakingly collected treasures to a man like that. His whole body trembled with resentment.
But for the sake of the mission, a transfer was unavoidable.
“Would this do it?”
Jang I-seo stroked his chin and plucked a long dao from the display rack.
Even at a glance, the crimson scabbard gleamed with an inner radiance, carved with black floral patterns. The gold token attached read:
【Gold-Cleaving Blade】
SHRING! ZING!
“Quiet down.”
As Jang I-seo drew the blade, a keen edge suffused with a soft golden light snarled as if thirsting for blood.
A famous blade. And clearly an extremely expensive one at that.
“The Gold-Cleaving Blade contains pure top-grade real gold. For a money demon like the Division Commander, nothing could suit him better.”
Click. Jang I-seo sheathed the blade with a satisfied expression.
Gyeom Sa-ik would do for this. He was a man obsessed with blades to begin with, and lately he’d been pressuring his subordinates about acquiring a new dao.
Now all that remained was action.
The good-for-nothing Seventh Young Master.
A covert operation to approach him.
Like a spy would.
* * *
As the sun sank low on the horizon.
Jang I-seo visited a small settlement near his quarters. The village was called Bangga-chon. True to its name, it was a clan village where the Bang family of Cheonsan lived together.
One might wonder why he came to a place like this, but a spy maintained various channels of contact.
For instance, if you hung a letter scented with cinnamon bark on the crow-crying apricot tree at a designated time and place, operatives from the White Crow Gate would appear. Nicknamed the “Crow Cleaners,” they specialized in cleaning up messy scenes.
The cost was steep, but their thoroughness earned them high trust among spies.
Or if you went to the inn at Eohae-chon at the foot of Cheonsan and placed two Western Region silver coins overlapping at an angle, you’d receive a bottle of baekju. Unfold the cloth stuffed in the neck, and you’d find Central Plains intelligence written in dot cipher.
Where there was day, there was night. And so, in every corner, operatives lurked and schemed.
This time was no different.
A small bookshop he’d discovered seven years ago and frequented ever since.
【Jegal Bookshop】
He tilted his head up and flicked the brim of his black hat with his index finger, bringing a weathered signboard into view.
Not that it mattered, but a Jegal clan surname smack in the middle of Bang family territory? Inside the Demonic Cult’s Cheonsan, no less?
What a nerve. But what was even more absurd was that the owner had absolutely no connection to the Jegal clan.
He’d been born to the Bang couple right here, yet after growing up, he suddenly declared himself a descendant of Zhuge Liang and changed his name on the spot. He claimed his parents had gone to the Central Plains and the baby had been swapped. Or some such nonsense.
For the record, the Bang couple were simple country folk who had never once left Cheonsan.
In any case, as this much made clear, the owner’s temperament was far from ordinary. Naturally, neither was his business.
Creeeak.
“Is the owner in?”
Jang I-seo stepped into the bookshop, its shelves crammed with books. But it was silent, no response. He scanned the interior. The owner was nowhere to be seen. Only a customer who’d arrived before him caught his eye.
Simultaneously, a brief flicker of interest crossed Jang I-seo’s gaze.
One of a spy’s essential skills.
The ability to identify someone’s identity instantly from the barest minimum of information.
Jang I-seo quickly scanned the woman from head to toe.
Height reaching his chin. Fine hair tied up, ears that were undeniably pretty. A slender neck.
And…
‘A petulant raccoon?’
His eyes met hers as she turned around.
A round nose and thick lips curved downward in a sullen pout.
Jang I-seo’s face scrunched up violently. Seeing this, the woman demanded as if taking offense.
“What are you staring at?”
“Ah. Well…”
He scratched his head. If she asked why, he had only one thing to say.
“You just look a bit unusual.”
“What?”
“Ah, if I offended you, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention, but…”
“Vulgar lout.”
Whoosh! She shot him a look of contempt and brushed past him toward the exit.
“Excuse me, miss. That’s going too far. I’ll have you know I was born with such an air of dignity that even passing servants bowed their heads. Hey, wait, hold on!”
The moment he reached out to stop her, an old man’s voice came from inside.
“I wondered which lunatic was spouting nonsense. Should’ve known it was you.”
A mustache curled upward at the ends. The same scholar’s cap worn by Zhuge Liang.
“Shopkeeper.”
The bookshop’s owner, Jegal Gwi-ryong.
Creeeak! SLAM!
In the brief moment Jang I-seo turned his head, the woman slammed the door and left. Hah, terrific. He clicked his tongue.
“What on earth did you do to her?”
“Who knows. Perhaps she’s fallen for me?”
“Look at this madman. This is exactly why you’ll never marry.”
“Isn’t that a bit harsh between fellow bachelors?”
“Shut up and tell me what you want. Unless you want to be thrown out.”
What a temper. Jang I-seo scratched his brow irritably, then approached Jegal Gwi-ryong at the counter and tossed a thick coin pouch onto the surface.
“One comprehensive dossier.”
He set the trap.
“On whom?”
“The Last Little Devil.”
The seventh and final adopted child of the Heavenly Demon.
The good-for-nothing young master, Mao.
“How deep?”
A trap to catch him.
“All of it.”
Their gazes locked in midair.
Then Jegal Gwi-ryong slipped the pouch into his robes.
Deal, struck.
A satisfied grin spread across his face.
Mao. Wait for me.
I’m coming for you.