Episode 76. King of the Martial Gamble (Part 3)
With my hands behind my back, I looked around the Phoenix Guest Chamber. It was one of the largest tents in the complex, divided into sections for bedding, a table, and a bath, all separated by screens. I’d been in plenty of small tents before—nothing new.
Then a woman dressed entirely in white approached me from behind.
“Young master, I’ll be serving you. My name is Baek So-ah.”
I turned to see her—a woman so beautiful it was hard to imagine her as a mere attendant. Everything about her was white: her robe, her ornaments, even her hairpins. She looked like purity incarnate.
“If you need anything,” she said softly, “just ask. Clothes, weapons, food, wine—we can match your tastes in nearly everything. Unless it’s something impossible.”
“There’s no poison in the food, I assume?”
“Of course not.”
I watched her expression carefully. “Why not? Wouldn’t it profit you more if Dong Bang-yeon keeps winning?”
She smiled faintly. “Would it? An undefeated fighter doesn’t make for exciting business.”
“Wrong,” I said. “It’s the undefeated fighter that draws gamblers here. They come chasing the legend, bringing their own champions, their hired experts, even their so-called friends. The more people who lose to Dong Bang-yeon, the richer you all get.”
Her smile didn’t falter. “I see. Would you prefer wine instead, if you’re wary of food?”
“I only drink Dukang wine.”
“Naturally. We have it.”
“Free?”
“Of course.”
“Poison-free?”
“Yes.”
“Bring it.”
“Right away.”
She turned to leave, then paused at the doorway. “Ah, young master—about the female attendants?”
“What about them?”
“They serve drinks. Not all of them… share a bed. Most just pour wine—but who knows? One might like you. Shall I bring someone pretty?”
I considered for a moment. “If you must…”
“Yes?”
“Bring someone who can hold her liquor.”
She tilted her head. “Understood.”
Later, I sat at the table as Baek So-ah returned with another woman.
“You drink well?” I asked.
“Yes. My name is Heuk So-ryeong,” she said. Dressed entirely in black, even her ornaments were obsidian-dark.
I raised a brow. “Didn’t know there was a ‘Miss Heuk’ in this place.”
“It’s just a nickname,” she replied, smiling politely as she poured Dukang wine into my cup and offered it with both hands.
I didn’t take it. Instead, I leaned down and sniffed the wine.
Then I closed my eyes, sitting cross-legged before the table. Using my internal energy as a reference point, I extended my awareness, sensing the qi in the tent. One distinct presence nearby—Heuk So-ryeong. Another faint one outside—must be Baek So-ah.
This was Sohyo-an, the “Serene Gaze” of the Golden Turtle Wandering Art—an extension of perception born from calm mind and focused qi.
I opened my eyes. “What are you doing?” So-ryeong asked cautiously.
Now I was certain. These two—Baek So-ah and Heuk So-ryeong—were the so-called beauties of this den. In my past life, they’d been famous for ruining challengers through their charms.
I’d expected something grander—a legendary honey trap, perhaps. But no. Just the same two snakes wrapped in silk. Beautiful faces, venomous hearts.
Both trained in martial arts, graceful and calm even under pressure, schooled in dance, drink, and deception. Perfect tools for seduction and ruin.
I took the bottle and poured So-ryeong’s drink myself, then handed it to her. As she reached for it, I deliberately dropped the cup.
She snatched it midair—and froze as my fingers struck her Jianjing and A-hyeol points.
Tap!
Her body went rigid, eyes wide. I smiled. “Impressive reflexes.”
Even immobilized, she glared at me, unflinching.
I examined her hair ornament—a black pearl comb—snapped it open with my thumbnail. Inside lay a fine powder.
“What’s this? Powdered medicine? What does it do? Kill? Paralyze? Hmm… curiosity’s killing me.”
I tipped the powder into her cup. “Let’s find out. Care for a drink, Miss Heuk?”
She said nothing. I tilted her chin up, pried open her mouth, and poured the spiked wine down her throat. Her Adam’s apple bobbed as she swallowed.
I folded my arms and waited. “If it’s poison, you die. If it’s not, lucky you.”
Her once serene eyes began to tremble. I leaned close. “Ah, so not poison, then. Good girl. Must be important stuff if it’s hidden in a pearl.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. I was glad I’d blocked her pressure points—less noise that way.
I rose silently and took position near the entrance. Minutes passed—long enough to call it “a while.” Then the tent flap rustled open. Baek So-ah stepped in.
“Young master?”
I struck both her pressure points and dragged her inside, sitting her beside So-ryeong. Removing her white pearl ornament, I found the same powder inside.
“Let’s keep it fair.” I mixed the powder into my cup and poured it down her throat as well.
Moments later, both women were trembling, faces flushed, eyes glassy. Tears streamed freely.
“What is this, anyway? Why cry? Don’t tell me…” Then realization struck. “Ah. Chun-yak. Aphrodisiac.”
Of course. Not deadly poison—lust poison. Bound, helpless, flooded with desire. No wonder they cried.
“Don’t worry. You won’t die. Probably. I’m going out for a drink. Try to keep your sanity till I’m back.”
I had no interest in their charms or their traps. I knew their tricks and wanted none of their food, water, or wine.
Leaving them sweating and writhing, I slipped out of the tent and headed to the tavern where Ilbo worked.
The tavern was alive—drunks shouting, gamblers arguing, fists flying. Perfect. This was where wine belonged. Ilbo greeted me eagerly and poured me a free drink.
“No poison?” I asked.
“If I poisoned you, the gamblers would beat me to death first,” he said.
“That’s not the point. Anyone can poison, which is why I ask.”
“Oh… right.”
He sat across from me, face serious. “Young master, can I ask you something?”
“What.”
“Should I bet everything tomorrow?”
“Who do you think will win?”
He rubbed his chin. “You. But I don’t know why. Just a feeling. A tavern boy’s instinct. I shouldn’t gamble on feelings—it’s too dangerous.”
“Ilbo.”
“Yes?”
“You gonna do as I say?”
He brightened. “Of course.”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
I leaned in. “Quit gambling.”
He blinked. “If I win, my life could change!”
“Would it? That kind of money doesn’t change lives.”
“So you want me to be a tavern boy forever?”
I grinned. “You’re just scared to try something else. Let’s be honest.”
“It takes money to start over.”
I poured him another cup. “No. It takes knowing what you want. You don’t know that yet.”
“Do you?”
“Don’t ask about me. Ask yourself.”
We stared at each other, dead serious, before both bursting into laughter and drinking.
Moments later, more customers entered. Ilbo sighed and stood to greet them. “Welcome—”
Before he could finish, one man swung a hand and smacked him across the head. Thud! His head snapped sideways. He didn’t even flinch.
“Damn fool’s drinking again!” someone jeered.
Ilbo gave a bitter smile. “Please, sit inside.”
“You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”
“Had a good day. Sorry about that. Go on in.”
As they walked past, he caught my eye. We both laughed—his quietly, mine aloud.
He muttered, “Damn it all.”
His expression shifted between fury and despair—unsure whether to explode or endure. One of the men turned back. “You swearing at me?”
Ilbo stayed silent. The man looked at me. “You, then?”
I nodded.
Three of them strode over. The leader sneered. “What’s your problem, bastard?”
I stood, reached out, and struck the pressure points of the two flanking him, then grabbed the leader by the throat.
“Kek!”
“Why do you beat the tavern boy, huh? Bastard.”
I drew back my hand, filled it with heat, and flicked his forehead.
Smack! He went flying backward, clutching his head and howling. I flicked the other two for good measure.
Smack! Smack!
Two dropped unconscious. The third rolled on the floor, screaming.
Ilbo watched wide-eyed. “Master, is the flick that hard to learn?”
“Very.”
“Figures. Nothing easy in this world. Not even a flick.”
He sighed, sat back down, and poured himself another drink. “Master, have we met before?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. You just feel… familiar. If I quit here, how could I find you? You won’t still be around after tomorrow, will you?”
“Can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“You’re too weak.”
“Because I never learned martial arts.”
I drank and said calmly, “Even when I didn’t know martial arts, I never once thought I was weak.”
“Really? How?”
I refilled his cup. “Good talk. I’m heading out.”
“Already?”
“Time to unseal some pressure points.”
As I rose, he grabbed my trouser leg. “Master, please—take me with you. I don’t need to be a warrior. I’ll be your servant, anything.”
“Then I’ll give you a task.”
“Yes!”
“Go to Black Cat Hall. Tell them to gather elite fighters here by tomorrow’s shen hour. Bring every bag, chest, wagon, and cart big enough to carry silver. Think you can handle it?”
He nodded. “Understood.”
I left the tavern and returned to the Phoenix Chamber.
Baek So-ah and Heuk So-ryeong were drenched in sweat, hair plastered to their faces, their mixed scents heavy in the air. The tent reeked of heat and tears.
I drove a throwing knife into the table and glared down at them.