Chapter 8: Chapter 8
She burst into laughter and snatched the bottle herself, pouring drink into Jang I-seo’s empty cup.
That was high praise.
‘I’ll give you this much. You’ve got guts. I can see why Commander Gyeom spoke so highly of you. Provided your skills match your mouth, of course.’
Honestly, the Seventh Young Master’s adjutant position was a bitter pill.
No one wanted it because of Mao’s temperament, and even if someone did, Mao refused to accept them.
So installing someone temporarily through her own influence was harmless enough. If, as Jang I-seo claimed, it expanded Mao’s faction and added strength to hers, no better bargain existed.
But.
‘Do you understand? That seat is a grave. Stumble in blindly and you’ll come out a corpse. A Seventh Grade Ghost with no clan, no reputation. Would you even last a day?’
Impossible. She shook her head involuntarily. The plan was to discipline him and send him back to the Counter-Espionage Division.
But.
“Are you genuinely confident Mao can rank within the top three?”
“No.”
“What? Then what was that just now?”
“Not confident. Certain.”
“Lunatic.”
Coarse words, but her lips stretched long and high.
She knew she shouldn’t, but somehow this man kept sparking expectations in her.
Could he be a highly trained spy?
No. The internal energy faintly leaking from his body was far too impure and mediocre. Besides, the Seventh Young Master was a card everyone had discarded.
Then what made this man so convincing?
Ignorance that led him to speak down to her? Confidence born from that?
No. Something beneath the surface. Jang I-seo possessed something beyond mere confidence. Something closer to certainty, beyond what words could capture.
Both their gazes turned outward toward Moonlight Lake.
The wall-less, open layout pleased her immensely.
Thanks to it, the assassins threading through the crowd like rats were perfectly visible.
Her brothers had apparently sent them after catching wind of her visit.
“Anyone can talk.”
Sa Hae-ryeong turned back to Jang I-seo. He met her gaze and replied.
“Separating talk from truth is your talent. But you don’t seem incompetent.”
“Even so, you want to see my skills first?”
Jang I-seo surveyed the outside again. His focus landed on the exact same assassins she’d identified. As expected. Not just a loudmouth, then. Sa Hae-ryeong’s smile deepened.
“I’ll take the three on the left.”
“Good. I’ve never been the type to lose out. Why not? I’ll handle the four on the right.”
“Fine.”
Glug, glug. Jang I-seo poured Sa Hae-ryeong’s drink. Then he raised his own cup and jerked his chin. Clack! Their cups met. As the drink burned down their throats.
FWA-FWA-FWASH!
Seven masked assassins surged up over the second-floor railing from outside like a waterspout.
Clean, efficient movement. All of them are above average. First-rate experts at minimum.
But nowhere near enough to face Sa Hae-ryeong.
CRACK! She kicked the railing lightly. Shattered wood splinters fired at the nearest assassin. THUD! One took the fragments in the chest and plummeted back down.
Two remained on her side.
Nothing difficult here.
“HAAAH!”
With a battle cry, the first assassin to land charged with his blade raised. Too slow. STAB, STAB, STAB, STAB! The chopsticks in her hand pierced through his left ribs, abdomen, and right armpit in a single blur.
“Geh…”
The assassin collapsed without managing a proper breath.
One remained.
But,
FWOOSH! The assassin’s weapon wasn’t a sword. It was a powder vial spewing brown smoke.
‘No way!’
For the first time, trouble clouded Sa Hae-ryeong’s face. She realized they hadn’t come to kill her.
That was Melt-Skin Powder, a toxic agent designed to dissolve skin disguises. Their objective was to expose her identity.
To reduce her reason for visiting Wolha Village to vulgar lust.
‘Disgusting filth…’
Unfortunately, the skin disguise covered not just her face but her entire body. Blocking all the spreading powder was impossible.
Despair flooded her mind in that instant.
“Don’t move.”
BANG! FWAAASH! The table flipped up, shielding her front as a man wrapped himself around her, blocking the remaining powder with his body.
Jang I-seo. It was him.
“You…?!”
Jang I-seo whipped around and thrust his right hand. FWISH! White Thunder shot forth, piercing through the table and THUD! punching clean through the assassin’s throat.
Situation resolved.
WHIRR! Jang I-seo coiled the retrieved White Thunder around his wrist.
Sa Hae-ryeong stood pressed against him, her unsteady eyes studying his face from below.
He grinned warmly.
“A woman’s secret is precious, after all?”
“…”
“Did you fall for me?”
“Lunatic…”
WHACK! Sa Hae-ryeong’s palm sent Jang I-seo skidding back five paces.
“Gah…! Hey… I just saved you and this is what I get?”
“Shut up.”
“Wow, shit. That crazy bitch.”
Jang I-seo stomped his feet and ranted about the injustice of it all. But Sa Hae-ryeong wasn’t listening. Her eyes held only him.
A strange man. And a man who made her feel strange.
She whipped around.
“In three days, come to the Seventh Small Palace.”
She’d passed him. Permission left her lips. Hahaha! Jang I-seo’s booming laugh erupted behind her. Sa Hae-ryeong heard it and, where he couldn’t see, her lips curved into a faint smile.
Then from behind, he waved and shouted.
“Hey!”
What. Sa Hae-ryeong turned back, slightly shy.
Jang I-seo put on a rather dashing expression.
“You’ve got to pay for what you broke. You can’t just leave.”
Hah, that bastard, seriously. She snapped at him as she strode away.
“You pay for it. Beg the owner, borrow the money. That’s part of the test too.”
“Hahaha! Damn bitch…”
It was a night when the full moon hung over Moonlight Lake.
*
That same night, after passing the adjutant examination.
Jang I-seo scratched the back of his head and headed upstairs in Chiseonru.
Third floor. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh.
How far was he going? He climbed until he reached the eighth and topmost floor, a restricted area where the proprietress resided.
Was he really here to pay for Sa Hae-ryeong’s damage?
But the white-robed guards parted before him like the Red Sea, as if recognizing him. And Jang I-seo walked that path alone, confident.
His destination proved to be the deepest, most secret corner of Chiseonru.
The most luxurious room at the very pinnacle, overlooking Moonlight Lake in its entirety. A bed, a table laden with delicacies from mountain and sea. That was where he arrived.
“You’ve come.”
A woman of heavenly beauty, wearing a vivid blue skirt and a black hairpin.
The proprietress of Chiseonru, Chwi Hong-ran. She offered her greeting. What in the world was this?
“Skip the food. Just bring drinks. I’ve lost my appetite.”
“You’re in a poor mood today. It pains me deeply.”
This was a woman whom even the First Young Master struggled to meet face-to-face, now pressing a hand to her chest with a sorrowful expression.
Was Jang I-seo her kept man?
“It’s not because of you. Took some losses. Smashed a railing for no reason. Do you know how much that costs?”
“Did you have a good meeting with the Third Young Lady?”
“Well enough.”
Astonishing. That Jang I-seo exchanged secrets with a courtesan like this.
But this was only the beginning.
“Here you are.”
Once the table was cleared, Jang I-seo sat on a cushion and received the ledger she presented. Inside, line after line of items and amounts. Receipts. Every bit of Chiseonru’s financial records.
“Good work. Revenue’s up.”
“If this helps repay even a fraction of the grace I’ve received… I would do anything.”
“We did this for mutual benefit.”
“No. If you hadn’t rescued me after I was kidnapped and brought here, if you hadn’t entrusted me with this work… I probably wouldn’t be alive today.”
Chwi Hong-ran. She bowed deeply.
Jang I-seo could only manage an awkward smile. He knew protest was pointless. She never failed to say this every time they met.
He understood.
Her real name was Murong Ran.
The daughter of the Murong clan, known throughout the Gangho as having gone missing. She’d been abducted by the Demonic Cult before she even turned twenty, and Jang I-seo had rescued her while investigating spies.
And the result of that fateful connection was this.
“Let’s hear what’s been piling up at Chiseonru.”
“Yes, Master.”
Master and servant.
Which meant.
The true owner of Chiseonru was…
Jang I-seo.
*
A spy had many methods for gathering intelligence.
Direct infiltration. Purchasing information. Receiving support from their parent organization.
But for Jang I-seo, operating alone in enemy territory with no way of knowing when or what mission might arrive, he needed something more stable and long-term.
That was why he’d chosen this place.
Chiseonru.
“Currently, the Demonic Cult stands at the eve of a storm. A powder keg ready to blow at any moment.”
Jang I-seo moistened his lips with rice wine at Hong-ran’s report. He knew this already. Rumors of an imminent Young Cult Leader appointment had been circulating, and the atmosphere had turned volatile.
Three names led the conversation.
“First Young Master Cheon Mu-gi. Second Young Master Mu Han-seong. Third Young Lady Sa Hae-ryeong. I believe it’s self-evident that the next Cult Leader will emerge from among these three.”
“Naturally…”
An indisputable fact. No objections.
At least until he’d received the mission to make the Seventh Young Master Mao the Young Cult Leader.
“What’s the power structure uncovered so far?”
Pushing through the exhaustion pressing down on him, he dug his fingers into his brow and asked. Hong-ran answered without hesitation, clear and concise.
“The Demonic Cult’s power structure consists of the Seven Elders, who oversee judicial matters, and the Five Dragon Halls, which handle administration, all beneath the Cult Leader. Beneath them, roughly one hundred organizations are scattered throughout.”
“Right. Plus the Seven Young Masters and the Left and Right Emissaries as wildcards.”
“Yes. The most critical pieces are the Seven Elders and the Five Dragon Hall Masters. Whoever they support determines both legitimacy and real power.”
“What’s your read, Hong-ran?”
“Nothing certain yet, but the Seven Elders likely favor the First Young Master. And the Five Dragon Hall Masters will probably back the Second Young Master.”
“Why?”
At Jang I-seo’s question, Chwi Hong-ran furrowed her brow, pondered briefly, then answered.
“Because of their temperaments.”
Temperaments. That resonated.
First Young Master Cheon Mu-gi was a man of few words, whose hands were exceedingly cruel. Detached from those around him, he schemed alone and moved his subordinates like pieces on a board.
Second Young Master Mu Han-seong, by contrast, was uninhibited in speech and behavior, mingling with his underlings like old friends meeting daily. He blundered often, but he had many subordinates willing to risk their lives out of loyalty.
In other words.
“The conservative elders want Cheon Mu-gi, who shares the Cult Leader’s temperament. And Mu Han-seong is likely to win the support of the aggressive Five Dragon Hall Masters.”
A reasonable analysis.
Jang I-seo nodded and asked the final question.
“And the Third Young Lady, Sa Hae-ryeong? She’s a legitimate contender. She has the deepest trust from the Cult Leader, as I understand it.”
At Jang I-seo’s expectant question, Chwi Hong-ran let out a low sigh.
“She has nothing.”