Chapter 59: Chapter 59
The dim moonlight illuminated the two men.
The massive man wearing a tiger mask stood half-draped between the moonlight and shadow, looking at Jang Geon. His gaze was like that of a beast glaring at its prey right before pouncing. Conversely, Jang Geon merely looked back at him with cold, emotionless eyes.
After glaring at each other for a long while, the masked man opened his mouth.
“Jang Geon. Second son of the Hunan Jang family. It’s been a few years since you wandered this New Continent. Why did you come to New Sichuan? Did you come simply to meet your brother?”
At that question, Jang Geon gave a subtle smile.
“Because my sister-in-law cooks well. I came to get a bite of that. Which number are you?”
“Which number? No, I am not of the Dark Dragon Corps.”
He took another step forward, exposing himself a bit more to the dim moonlight.
“I am the one who issues orders to them. A faithful servant of His Imperial Majesty in the Central Plains.”
“Ah, not impure bastards like the Dark Dragon Corps, but a member of the great Imperial Army?”
The masked man’s eyes gleamed fiercely.
“…Your tone is far more impure. Aren’t you also a subject of His Imperial Majesty? Yet how dare you speak so recklessly of that authority?”
Jang Geon tilted his head as if bewildered.
“What bullshit is that? What authority is there when you kidnap a child and threaten common folk who don’t even know martial arts?”
“Are you speaking of the Ju Family Merchant Guild? That was merely enacting justice upon a merchant trying to monopolize business for his own desire. Had Ju Wol’s monopoly succeeded, those many people in New Sichuan who earn their living through transport would have lost their livelihoods, landed in the streets, and turned into vagrants. Living off His Majesty’s stipend, how could I merely watch the living hell of the people?”
Jang Geon was momentarily at a loss for words. The masked man’s tone was calm and matter-of-fact. It was as if he were speaking as though everything he just said was natural and obvious.
“…So that’s why you severed a teenaged girl’s finger?”
“The sins of the father are inherited by the child.”
Anything resembling an expression vanished from Jang Geon’s face. He naturally gripped his scabbard with his left hand, stepped his right foot forward, and turned his body. Then, gesturing with his chin toward the masked man, he spoke.
“Take off that cover. I’ve already seen your face earlier today.”
The masked man’s eyes narrowed slightly at those words, forming a smiling curve. He slowly raised his hand and pulled down the mask. The face revealed beneath was Guild Leader Gyeon Woo-young of the New Sichuan Merchant Association, who had visited the Jang Family Merchant Guild earlier today.
“You have sharp eyes. Even though I changed my voice.”
“Anyone who fails to recognize you with that frame and those eyes would have to be blind.”
Removing the mask completely and tucking it into his chest pocket, Gyeon Woo-young spoke.
“What a pity. There was much I wanted to get to know while sharing dinner.”
“I don’t care to know. Did you invite me to separate me from the children?”
He shook his head.
“No. Originally, the timing for carrying out the scheme against Jang Un was not today. It was meant to be after Ju Wol left New Sichuan.”
It meant he hadn’t expected Jang Geon to recognize the Dark Dragon Corps. It also meant the dinner invitation was truly out of curiosity, and that he actually had plans to kidnap the Jang siblings.
Having heard that far, Jang Geon did not open his mouth any further. He simply let his right hand hang naturally and stared at Gyeon Woo-young with silent eyes. Facing him, Gyeon Woo-young’s smile deepened. Stepping another foot forward to fully expose himself under the faint moonlight, he held a sword in his left hand, while simultaneously pushing the sword out from its scabbard with a click of his left thumb.
Atop the unfinished pavilion where the two stood, it was so quiet that not even a gust of wind could be heard, while from the night market street far below, noises made by various people echoed faintly.
From merchants shouting to introduce goods and call customers, to the clattering sound of stir-frying dishes in cast-iron pots, people singing loudly in drunken stupor, the melodies of pipas and guqins plucked in courtesan houses, people quarreling in anger, people laughing heartily in delight, people crying loudly over whatever sorrow they had, and so forth.
The sounds of this night market—whether the true bare face or the glamour of New Sichuan—rose all the way to the top of the unfinished pavilion, laying down like a faint background between Jang Geon and Gyeon Woo-young.
Dense clouds drifted through the sky, obscuring the incomplete half-moon and stars, while below, the complex noises of human life’s myriad forms resounded. And along the boundary between them, two men stared at each other, tensing the muscles of their entire bodies as if ready to explode at any moment.
In the next instant, people quarreling in the night market shoved each other and knocked over a cast-iron pot with a crash, while a guqin being plucked in a courtesan house snapped a string with a sharp twang sound. For a brief moment, those sounds caused the surrounding courtesan houses and night market to fall quiet. People bewildered by the unexplainable quiet resumed laughing and shouting to continue the street’s commotion only after realizing the cause of the noise a moment later.
And right then, atop the unfinished pavilion, Jang Geon and Gyeon Woo-young stood in swapped positions, showing their backs to each other.
Maintaining his stance with his sword extended straight forward, Gyeon Woo-young opened his mouth.
“Quite fast. Even the direct disciple of the Righteous Dragon Sword Master isn’t at this level.”
Extending his blade in a similar stance, Jang Geon did not answer. He glanced at his blade. The edge that had collided just now was chipped. Simultaneously, a faint bloody line was drawn across his right cheek, and a drop of blood trickled down.
The two slowly broke their stances and turned to face each other. Gyeon Woo-young grinned upon seeing the blood trickling down Jang Geon’s cheek. However, seeing that grin, Jang Geon gestured toward him with his chin.
Only after looking down at his chest at that chin gesture did Gyeon Woo-young realize that the front of his robe had been sliced open and was fluttering. A deep smile soon floated onto his lips, which had gone expressionless for a moment. Looking at Jang Geon with a face that made it unclear whether he was smiling or angry, he spoke.
“However, there is one thing I don’t understand, Jang Geon.”
“What?”
Gripping his blade with both hands and hanging it low, Jang Geon asked back briefly. Tossing the scabbard in his left hand to the side, Gyeon Woo-young continued speaking.
“How did you find Dark Dragon Agent No. 20 lying here right now? No, how did you think to seek out Ju Wol’s merchant guild? Agent No. 17 who infiltrated the Jang Family Merchant Guild died biting a poison pill, so how on earth did you find the Ju Family Merchant Guild without any connecting clue?”
Jang Geon was about to answer that question, but shut his mouth again at scenes flashing through his mind.
The conflict between the New Sichuan Merchant Association and the Ju Family Merchant Guild; the fake wet nurse who was caught infiltrating the Jang Family Merchant Guild where Jang Geon stayed and committed suicide; Martial Alliance Patrol Officer Jeok-sein who arrived to investigate the incident; Yang Goeng who suddenly appeared before a blocked road and provided only fragmentary information; the Dark Dragon Corps agents who said they merely followed orders from above; Gyeon Woo-young before his eyes who was ignorant of Yang Goeng’s actions; and the position of New Sichuan Guild Leader that Gyeon Woo-young held.
Sorting out his thoughts for a moment, Jang Geon smirked and spoke.
“You guys are a complete mess too. Wouldn’t the Emperor be thrilled if he saw this?”
“…How dare you speak of His Majesty so lightly. Are you not afraid of your clan’s extermination?”
“Though I don’t know the Emperor well, it seems you’re the one who should worry about clan extermination. Given that a middle manager used his intelligence organization for personal gain.”
The smile vanished from Gyeon Woo-young’s lips. That expression told that Jang Geon’s guess was correct.
That an undercover Imperial Army soldier disguised as the New Sichuan Merchant Association Guild Leader used the Dark Dragon Corps—which moved under the Emperor’s edict—for his own disguised identity, or more precisely, for the profits gained from that identity. And that the Dark Dragon Corps, having realized this, was trying to dispose of Gyeon Woo-young by using Jang Geon, Jeok-sein, and the Martial Alliance.
“How did I find the Ju Family Merchant Guild? I didn’t find it. Your subordinates told me.”
“…I see what happened. I wondered how you saw through the disguise, but there was a traitor within the Dark Dragon Corps. Who is it? Agent No. 3? Or Agent No. 7?”
“How would I know if you speak like that.”
Replying casually, Jang Geon raised his blade and aimed it at Gyeon Woo-young.
“Then let me ask something too. Setting aside that merchant Ju since he interfered with your business, why did you mess with the Jang family?”
“Because the Jang Family Merchant Guild, like Ju Wol, could swallow up New Sichuan’s business circles through financial backing from the Central Plains.”
“…Look at that.”
Jang Geon laughed out of sheer absurdity at the immediate response. Gyeon Woo-young’s words meant that since the Jang Family Merchant Guild had the potential to grow into a threatening enemy to the New Sichuan Merchant Association like the Ju Family Merchant Guild, he intended to prevent them from taking root in New Sichuan from the very beginning.
“I’ve conversed only briefly, but I roughly get what kind of bastard you are.”
“Is that so? Then only one thing remains.”
Erasing his expression, Gyeon Woo-young pointed his sword at Jang Geon with beast-like eyes flashing. Thus their conversation stopped, and only the night market’s commotion echoed once more atop the unfinished pavilion.
The two, who had been aiming at each other as if turned into statues, charged toward each other in the next instant, brushing past each other as sword and blade collided. And immediately turning their bodies, they clashed their weapons once again. Steel meeting steel let out a sharp shriek.
Gyeon Woo-young’s sword was fast and powerful. Although he didn’t appear to be giving his all right now, Jang Geon felt his palm tremble lightly upon clashing blades.
And unlike martial artists of the New Continent who commonly lost power after the initial blow and gradually slowed down, Gyeon Woo-young’s sword seemed on the contrary to become faster and stronger. Screeching, the two blades scraped past each other, sending bright sparks flying.
Jang Geon stepped back subtly. Thinking of it as an opportunity, Gyeon Woo-young pursued straight ahead, swinging his sword. At that instant, Jang Geon lowered his stance low. Behind him stood a pillar of the pavilion. Jang Geon anticipated that Gyeon Woo-young’s sword would be blocked by that pillar, creating an opening.
However, in the next instant, Jang Geon had to defend rather than attack as Gyeon Woo-young severed the pillar without hesitation, immediately following up with a continuous sword technique. Once again, edge met edge, sending coarse sparks flying.
Even after that, Gyeon Woo-young attacked Jang Geon while slicing through surrounding construction materials, pillars, and bamboo scaffolding with irresistible momentum. Such was his monstrous strength and speed that even the demonic practitioners Jang Geon had encountered so far fell a step short in comparison.
The power emanating from his massive frame and long limbs possessed a primal momentum beyond simple physical strength. Just as the mask he wore depicted a tiger’s mouth and his eyes depicted a tiger’s eyes, he truly raged like a beast transformed into one.
Amidst one section of the bamboo scaffolding collapsing, Gyeon Woo-young glared at Jang Geon with fiercely gleaming eyes and swung his sword. Every part of the pavilion lying in the path of that sword was sliced away.
Having been driven on the defensive for a long while, Jang Geon at a certain moment rapidly swung his blade twice, temporarily bringing Gyeon Woo-young’s sword and charge to a halt. Then, taking a short breath toward the paused opponent, he flashed his blade in a slash. The shadows of that blade were three.
At Jang Geon’s blade splitting into three, Gyeon Woo-young’s eyes widened. However, he instantly erased that fluster and gripped his sword with both hands. Simultaneously, his sword and both arms blurred.
With a clanging noise, Jang Geon stepped back. His eyes sank deeply. Just now, Gyeon Woo-young had not distinguished truth from feint in his illusionary sword technique that split into three; he had simply cut down all three blade strikes using monstrous internal energy and speed.
“Hahaha! What fun little tricks!”
Shouting thus as if enjoying himself at some point, Gyeon Woo-young struck his sword straight down. It was a simple, yet extraordinarily powerful blow. Jang Geon deflected it and immediately counterattacked. While that blade lacked Gyeon Woo-young’s crude momentum, the trajectory drawn clearly and straight toward his neck was chillingly sharp. Gyeon Woo-young raised his sword with a grit-toothed face to block it.
Every single strike thrown by the two swordsmen toward each other was like that.
Atop the spacious pavilion, every single attack, defense, and counterattack by the two men was fatal. In the face of Gyeon Woo-young’s beast-like martial arts, Jang Geon expanded his illusionary sword technique from three to four blades, loaded internal heavy hand techniques into his blade tip to shatter qi and blood, and moved fleetly while taking steps in Shadowless Footwork to conceal his body among the shadows of his blade.
However, Gyeon Woo-young blocked it by swinging a faster and stronger sword with boundless internal energy, driving Jang Geon back using that exact same crude internal energy and strength.
“You have many interesting tricks! The Grand Scholar would love it if he saw! But tricks are ultimately just tricks! What wins in the end is stronger internal energy and a faster sword!”
Shouting thus, Gyeon Woo-young struck his sword straight down once more. It was as if telling him to block it if he could. At this, Jang Geon raised his blade to deflect it, but he unconsciously had to grit his teeth at the heavy internal energy contained in that sword blade.
Simultaneously, Gyeon Woo-young’s face appeared close enough that his breath could be felt. His glinting eyes and bared teeth as if snarling seemed to showcase his current excitement and confidence in his own martial arts.
In an instant, Jang Geon felt that face was shittily irritating, so he slammed his forehead straight into it.
“Ugh!”
Clutching his nose, Gyeon Woo-young bounded backward in caution against Jang Geon’s follow-up strike. Stepping far back, he pulled away his hand, saw the thick blood pooling there, and contorted his face violently.
“You bastard!”
Unlike Gyeon Woo-young who had backed far away, Jang Geon stood tall right on that spot, letting the blade held in both hands hang low as he regulated his breathing. From his torn forehead, blood mixed with Gyeon Woo-young’s trickled down, but that was not important to him right now.
A faster sword. Stronger internal energy.
It was the core martial art theory containing the practical utility and tyrant’s way of the Imperial Army. For a thousand years, the Empire had conquered the Central Plains and pacified the world through such martial arts. Naturally, martial arts straying beyond that core theory had been phased out, deemed inefficient and useless.
Since the martial arts of the Imperial Army governing the world were like that right now, one could argue it was correct. Claiming other methods were unnecessary, that painting plum blossoms or drawing Tai Chi with a sword were all bullshit, one could state that only stronger internal energy and power were the entirety of martial arts.
Jang Geon could do that as well. He could use martial arts an inch faster and stronger than his opponent. Having consumed a fine spirit elixir the previous day, his internal energy was ample, so he could load his blade with internal energy and slam it down crudely just like Gyeon Woo-young was doing now.
But was that martial arts? Could that be called building achievement through martiality?
In Jang Geon’s mind, martial arts were ultimately a tool to maximize human potential. Beyond moving faster and exerting stronger power, protecting another’s mind with sound, redirecting a thousand-pound opponent with a handful of force, running farther, treading empty air to leap high, as well as hearing distant sounds and transmitting one’s own voice only to a specific person.
Power that maximized potential—which originally would have been humble—by several times to dozens of times, bringing forth new phenomena.
To Jang Geon, that was what martial arts meant. Compared to that, simply being faster and stronger was nothing more than basic martial arts.
“Heh, it seems you’re gradually running out of steam, Jang Geon. Well, for a martial artist who hasn’t been taught specifically by the Imperial Army or noble clans, you fought quite well. Even among descendants of the Demonic Sect, your level is rare.”
Aligning his dislocated nasal bone and wiping away the blood, Gyeon Woo-young spoke thus. Seeing Jang Geon blankly catching his breath, he seemed to think he was exhausted.
Regaining his focus at that answer, Jang Geon looked at him and smirked.
“…Tiger. A tiger, is it. That’s fine.”
“What?”
Flicking his blade clean with a swoosh, Jang Geon held the blade with one hand and positioned it at mid-stance. Seeing him, Gyeon Woo-young tilted his head, then lowered his knees to take a sword stance.
Right then, Jang Geon’s blade hummed.
“…What is this?”
Looking at that humming and vibrating blade, Gyeon Woo-young displayed bewilderment. A sword vibrating. That was a phenomenon occurring when the concentration of internal energy was unmastered. However, Jang Geon did not reply, and Gyeon Woo-young grinned, thinking it was because he was exhausted.
“Right, your internal energy is gradually…”
But soon Gyeon Woo-young’s expression turned strange. Because the humming sound from Jang Geon’s blade was becoming lower and lower. The sound, lowering to a level where one wondered if such a thing were possible, vanished at a certain moment without leaving even a faint sound.
And Gyeon Woo-young felt an unknown sense of anxiety surging. In his ears, tinnitus buzzed—bzzz—and for some reason his knees felt numb and weak. What was stranger was that although no sound could be heard now, Jang Geon’s blade was still vibrating.
Right then, Jang Geon stamped his foot down with a loud thudding boom.
“Heok…”
At that massive reverberation, Gyeon Woo-young almost fell to his knees without realizing it.