Episode 66. That Is the Question.
As I danced around the motionless Yoo Sa-cheong, swinging my sword like a madman, Hong Shin spoke up.
“Senior brother, they’re slowly retreating.”
“What?”
I stopped mid-dance, turned sharply, and saw several of the enemy flinch and stumble as they scrambled away. A few fell on their backsides before getting up and fleeing like routed soldiers.
Even so, Ilryong Old Army stood firm, his expression cold as ever, glaring at me with feigned composure.
“Old man,” I said. “Got something to say?”
He replied evenly, “A truce is a truce. Nothing more.”
Baek In stepped forward. “Senior brother, let’s finish them off.”
“No,” I said. “A truce is a truce. Let them retreat. Look at their faces, their tension, the fake calm of their commanders—enjoy it while it lasts.”
When Ilryong withdrew, Master Su had no choice but to follow. He tossed a parting threat over his shoulder.
“You’ll see me again soon.”
I grinned. “Whoever surrenders first gets treated as an honorable defector. Go home and think it over—whether you’ll get another chance to live.”
Once the enemy had gone, I turned to my men. “Check the wounded. It’s late—return inside. End the defense rotation. So Gunpyeong, you handle the night watch and pass shifts with the other officers.”
“Understood.”
I slapped Yoo Sa-cheong’s stiff face lightly. “You’ve worked hard too, prisoner. It’s cold tonight. Come inside.”
One of my men hoisted the bound Yoo Sa-cheong onto his back. I called, “Sung-tae.”
“Yes?”
I didn’t actually have anything to say. I just threw an arm around his shoulder and started walking back to Black Cat Hall. “Let’s go.”
I sat at the head table, sipping wine while the hall buzzed with activity. Some men tended their wounds, others ate or fell asleep. I let them all be.
Beside me, Yoo Sa-cheong sat bound, watching everything silently as if taking mental notes.
Soon, the disciples and officers returned to fill the seats. Curiosity burned in their eyes—they all wanted to see who this man truly was.
Dokgo Saeng, last to arrive after washing off blood, walked past Yoo Sa-cheong and smacked the back of his head before sitting down beside him.
“Everyone here?”
So Gunpyeong answered, “The Fifth Chief is resting. He was wounded.”
Dokgo Saeng took a drink, then, for no reason at all, slapped Yoo Sa-cheong’s cheek again. Whack! His head snapped sideways.
I turned to my Twelve Apostles. “Everyone intact?”
“Yes, Senior.”
“All good.”
Cha Sung-tae reported, “I’m fine too.”
I nodded. “You’d better be.”
So Gunpyeong asked about strategy. “What do we do with Ilryong Old Army and Master Su next?”
“Wait,” I said. “They’ve suffered heavier losses. For two days, they’ll eat poorly, sleep poorly, even piss nervously. After provocation, chaos, and defeat comes fear. They’ll be shaken. The leaders will endure, but their subordinates will crack—and that makes them weaker than before.”
Baek Yu chimed in unexpectedly. “Senior brother, that sword dance was great. I should’ve joined in with a fan dance.”
I laughed. “Next time, we’ll dance together.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Baek In glared at Yoo Sa-cheong. “Senior brother, what do you make of him?”
“What do you think?”
Baek In replied, “His swordsmanship—he didn’t learn that in the underworld.”
“Explain for the others. Someone like Sung-tae might not catch it.”
Baek In nodded. “His posture shows years of harsh discipline before sword forms were introduced. The flow was consistent. He’s no amateur.”
“Agreed.”
Dokgo Saeng growled. “So he’s from the righteous sects, huh?”
Without warning, he slapped Yoo Sa-cheong again. When the man didn’t react, Hong Shin asked, “Senior brother, did you seal his mute point?”
“Probably.”
“Should I undo it?”
“You can’t. I can’t either. I know how to seal points, not unseal them. Didn’t bother learning.”
“If left too long, he might lose his voice permanently.”
“Not my problem.”
“Yes, Senior.”
I chatted idly with my men, eating leftovers, drinking, laughing like nothing mattered. Half an hour later—
“Master,” a guard called from outside. “The Lord of the Wuak Sect has come to the main gate, unarmed.”
“Then let him in,” I said. “Why ask?”
My officers exchanged puzzled looks as the Wuak Sect Lord entered with two disciples.
He bowed stiffly. “I am Yang Jaekyung, Lord of the Wuak Sect.”
I nodded. “Welcome, Lord Yang.”
He forced a nervous smile. “I hardly know where to begin…”
“Speak freely.”
“The Wuak Sect will no longer oppose you. We acted on poor information and made mistakes. I hope—”
“Fine,” I said with a nod.
“Thank you for your generosity.”
At his gesture, his disciples set down a large chest and opened it—half filled with gold bars, half with silver.
I clicked my tongue. “Why bring all this? Tsk. How much is this anyway? Impressive. I’ll share some with the Black Thread Society. You’ve overdone it, Lord Yang.”
I kicked the lid closed and stood. “Our first meeting wasn’t pleasant, but let’s avoid being enemies again. Life’s like that, isn’t it?”
I patted his shoulder. He flinched like a startled rabbit. “Yes, yes, quite right.”
“In Jianghu, enemies become allies, allies become enemies. Sometimes you die in between. Don’t take it too personally.”
“I’ll remember that. We won’t answer Ilryong or Su’s call again.”
“Good news indeed.”
“I brought this as an apology gift. It delayed me. I’ll take my leave now.”
“Safe travels. You’ve done well bringing all this at midnight.”
He bowed hastily and turned to go. I called after him, “Lord Yang.”
“Yes?”
“Let’s share a meal sometime.”
“Ha ha, certainly, Master. Until then.”
Once he left and the doors shut, silence filled the hall.
Dokgo Saeng looked at me blankly. I asked, “What?”
He replied with a deadpan face, “That was hilarious.”
He meant it literally—he couldn’t understand the politics of it, only that the whole scene was absurd. But hearing him say it with such a straight face made everyone burst out laughing.
“Hahahahaha…”
I laughed too. “Yeah, it was funny.”
Amid the laughter, only Yoo Sa-cheong remained stiff-faced. Naturally, attention shifted to him.
Dokgo Saeng glared. “Why aren’t you laughing? Face still numb?”
He raised his hand, pretending to lower it, then smacked Yoo Sa-cheong again.
Whack!
I didn’t stop him. He’d earned the right. He and his men had fought hard tonight.
I rested my chin on my hand, thinking, So Wuak Sect was the first to test the waters, huh?
Moments later, another report came. “Master, Lady Cheolseom has arrived.”
I scolded lightly, “And you left her outside in the cold? Bring her in at once.”
Lady Cheolseom entered, looking even more uneasy than the last visitor. Her words caught in her throat.
“Lady Cheolseom,” I said first, “your throwing knives nearly ruined everything. Impressive skill.”
She bowed. “I apologize, Master. I… I’ve come to make amends.”
“Speak freely.”
“My disciples and I are leaving Ilryong’s faction. We’ll return to Pomegranate Valley. I’ll inform my peers not to interfere with Black Cat Hall again. Please forgive tonight’s mistake.”
I nodded. “It happens in battle. How’s your valley lord?”
“Well, still devoted to cultivation.”
“While you’re out earning silver for the household—admirable. Let’s not be enemies again.”
“Understood.”
“It’s late. Take care on your way.”
She hesitated, then placed something on the table. “This is my treasured Moonlight Dagger. Take it as a token of my word.”
“Ah—why, thank you. I’ve always wanted a dagger for protection. This looks sharp.”
“Short, but sharper than most swords. Perfect for assassination.”
“We martial folk do love fine blades. I’ll make good use of it. Give my regards to your valley lord.”
“Yes, Master.”
After she left, Hong Shin asked, “Will anyone else come tonight?”
I looked at So Gunpyeong. “Go outside. If any stragglers remain, scare them off. Accept bribes if offered. I’m too tired to deal with them.”
“Understood.”
As soon as he left, I took another drink and slapped Yoo Sa-cheong once more. Thud! The chair toppled backward with him still tied to it.
Crash!
An officer rushed to set it upright.
“It’s late,” I told my men. “Find empty rooms and rest. I’ll decide later whether to kill or torture this one.”
“Yes, Master.”
They filed out until only Yoo Sa-cheong, myself, and the Moonlight Dagger remained in the great hall.
I tapped the dagger’s hilt with my fingertip, muttering to myself.
“My old master told me to learn mercy… but damn, it’s not easy. Feels awkward. Those who came to apologize felt awkward too. Guess I’m not much better.”
Sipping my drink, I thought of Moryong Baek’s teachings. Turning over a new leaf wasn’t easy. Living differently than in my past life—harder still.
“Still, he meant well. I should at least try, right?”
“…”
“I really have changed. I used to kill every enemy I saw—cut, crush, cleave with an axe. And now? What’s happened to me? Is this what they call the feeling of a lifetime passing? Or the world turning upside down? Maybe both? Maybe neither?”
“…”
I stared into Yoo Sa-cheong’s eyes. “What’s with that look? You think I’m uneducated? That I’m some idiot brute?”
“…”
His lips trembled. Maybe the paralysis was wearing off—sweat beaded on his nose as his mouth twitched.
I sighed, drained my cup, and said with mock gravity, “To kill, or not to kill—that is the question.”
Then I drew the Moonlight Dagger—and planted it upright in the table.