Episode 99. Looks Quite Strong
I stood at the edge of the shattered rooftop, peering into the chaos below. Rich men always lived in wide, extravagant spaces — and this place was practically a palace.
“Not a house… a royal mansion.”
He had money to hire assassins to kill me, money to bribe others into fighting the Namcheon Alliance, money to fill his home with mercenaries. Yes — this was wealth built on the backs, blood, and lives of countless others.
I respect wealthy merchants who earn their fortune through honest trade. But scum like Paegeomhoe? They are different. Their riches are wrung from other people’s suffering.
Just as I was thinking that, sword energy suddenly erupted from beneath my feet.
Crash!
I leapt aside as a wave of sword force tore through the rooftop. When I landed on the edge, another burst of sword energy demolished the remaining tiles. Debris exploded upward, keeping Paegeomhoe’s men from approaching.
From my perch, I gauged the skill of the one below. Then, a man in red shot up through the wreckage and landed before me, his blade gleaming under the firelight.
“A bodyguard captain, perhaps?”
He looked to be in his early thirties. Even standing still, his eyebrows slanted upward — a natural look of dominance. But for someone leading Paegeomhoe’s forces, he seemed rather young.
The Red-Clad Man demanded, “Who sent you?”
Amusingly, the very same question I had once asked an assassin. But a true black-clad man does not answer such trivialities.
I stayed silent.
Just then, flames burst up from the center of Kang Clan Manor. Nam Garak was setting the place ablaze, probably using the fire bombs we had prepared. A series of explosions followed — shouts, smoke, and panic blending together.
I watched the Red-Clad Man with a cold smile. Even as fire engulfed his home, his expression remained calm. That indifference — the confidence of someone too rich to care if one mansion burns.
From below, his subordinates shouted, “Master Chun! Are you unharmed?”
So, the Red-Clad Man was one of their division masters. He replied evenly, “Capture him alive. I’ll torture the truth from him.”
“Yes, sir!”
Several swordsmen launched themselves up through the broken roof. I altered my voice slightly. “Capture me? With that level of skill?”
I glanced at the six or so attackers, then dove into the hall below. When they jumped after me, I soared back upward again. Back and forth, teasing them like children — my lightfoot skill was far beyond theirs.
Every time I dropped, they followed. Every time I rose, they mimicked. Finally, as the first fool leapt after me, I drew Black Cat Fang and slashed midair.
Slice!
His body split apart, blood spraying through the air. I landed again in the grand hall, glancing up at the roof.
Silence. They’d just realized how easily I had played them.
Originally, the plan was to burn a few buildings, cause chaos, and flee — to deepen the rift between Paegeomhoe and Namcheon-ryeon. But I hadn’t yet seen their leader. Judging by the layout, he was likely hidden deep in the first floor. Curiosity struck.
I dragged my sword across the floor, channeled Jingak, and stomped down hard.
BOOM!
The entire floor quaked — and a hole opened into the lower level.
I dodged the blades stabbing down from above, deflected the rain of hidden weapons.
Clang! Clang!
Their weapons were imbued with decent inner power — perhaps they’d been dosing themselves with expensive elixirs bought with their master’s wealth.
I kicked open a door, slammed my sword into a wall, and flooded it with flame energy. The heated blade carved through walls like paper — smoke, sparks, and screams filled the hall.
There was no reason to hesitate. I broke through every barrier in my path, slashing and stabbing as I went.
When I reached the corridor, a sword lunged from the side. I deflected it, pulled the attacker close using Absorbing Qi, and drove my blade into his abdomen.
Thud!
Grabbing his hair, I flung the corpse down the stairs. The men climbing up smashed into the body—
Crack!
Then I unleashed torrents of flame downward. The corpse was shredded again, and those trying to catch it were burned alive. The stairwell turned into a river of blood and flesh.
As I descended, I locked eyes with the Red-Clad Man. Even now, he stood behind his men — calm, composed, commanding.
“Seal the lower levels,” he ordered softly. Steps thundered as soldiers rushed to obey.
Then he asked, “Did Sa Do-haeng send you?”
I said nothing. If I agreed, he wouldn’t believe me anyway.
From below came a deep, rumbling voice. “Step aside.”
The men parted. A towering figure emerged — spear resting casually on one shoulder. He turned to the Red-Clad Man. “Shall I kill him?”
“Capture him alive. Cut off his limbs if necessary.”
“Yes, sir.”
The giant leveled his spear. I raised my hands lightly. “I surrender. Can’t fight a spear, after all.”
As I spoke, I dropped Black Cat Fang — and before it hit the floor, kicked the hilt.
Thunk!
The sword shot forward like a bolt of lightning, burying itself in the giant’s chest.
Before his body hit the ground, I leapt forward, ripped the blade free, and snatched up his spear. With one weapon in each hand, I swept through the narrow hall.
Black Cat Fang unleashed a storm of cutting wind. The spear whirled in my right hand, slicing through men like straw.
When I reached the first floor, I sheathed my sword and gripped the spear with both hands, scanning the burning halls.
Outside, the fire roared higher — followed by another explosion.
“Impressive, Nam Garak…”
Villains are always good at fire. He was likely alternating between killing and arson right now. As a guildmaster, it was only proper.
Holding the heavy spear brought back memories — so many I had struck down with unwavering conviction.
I cut through more Paegeomhoe men as I pondered how to withdraw — then stepped outside into the courtyard.
To my left and right, my subordinates cleared a path. Then, from the opposite side, the Red-Clad Man reappeared, as calm as ever.
“You’re no assassin,” he said. “Who are you?”
I glanced toward the interior. A shadow moved within, followed by a low, cold voice.
“Chun Dangju, is that Sa Do-haeng?”
“No, my lord,” Chun replied. “Just a few rats.”
“I see…”
I hurled the spear toward the voice.
Whish!
The Red-Clad Man barely twisted aside. The spear streaked straight ahead — then stopped with a loud clack in midair.
Someone had caught it barehanded.
I couldn’t see clearly, but the stillness said enough.
The master of Paegeomhoe had caught my spear. With his hand.
“Impressive.”
To stop a spear charged with mokgye power so easily — that took true strength. But of course, a leader of this scale should be capable of that much.
Feigning shock, I widened my eyes dramatically — then, without hesitation, turned and leapt skyward.
An artistic display of pure cowardice.
As expected, the fools below followed — dozens soaring after me.
I spun midair and drew Black Cat Fang once more.
Slash!
The air split, and several men lost their lower halves, their screams piercing the night.
I landed on the wall, dodging a flurry of projectiles without even looking — the heightened senses of Tugye made it effortless.
Unless the Paegeomhoe master himself pursued at full strength, no one here could catch me. But the rich bastard didn’t move — he stood still, unmoving, like a king on a chessboard.
I sped up, darting through the darkness. Moments later, Nam Garak appeared beside me, running silently.
Our eyes met once — then we burst through the night, leaving the burning manor behind.
Before long, the pursuers vanished entirely. They had given up too easily — it left a faint, unsatisfying taste.
“That wasn’t all of their elites, was it?”
Nam Garak, seated on a tree stump, pulled off his mask. “No. They command the Blood Hall, the Black Serpents, Iron Palm Hall, merchant guilds, escort agencies, even armies. If all those join the Namcheon war, the casualties will be enormous. They’ve also hired mercenaries, so their numbers must have grown.”
“How many buildings did you burn?”
“At least twenty. They’ll be busy tonight. Shall we regroup with Namcheon-ryeon or keep watching Paegeomhoe?”
Before coming here, I had left Nam Yeonpung in temporary command near Namcheon-ryeon’s camp.
I listened to the night wind, then whispered, “Black Nam — mask back on.”
He obeyed without question. We were resting in a clearing deep in the forest when a faint, deliberate sound reached my ears from afar.
“Strange,” I murmured. “The Paegeomhoe master — is he stronger than you?”
Nam Garak nodded bitterly. “I’d say so.”
“Then go on ahead. If I’m late, back to the inn.”
I pressed a finger to my lips, gesturing for silence. Nam Garak vanished into the dark without another word.
Then I turned my gaze toward the sound. Branches swayed — and a middle-aged man descended lightly from the air.
He had a long, trimmed beard and carried himself with the calm authority of one who knew no fear.
“Did you truly think you could escape?” he said, hands clasped behind his back.
Such confidence. Was it my acting that fooled him — or was his power truly as overwhelming as his reputation?
Perhaps he simply saw me as a clown in a black mask.
The forest was silent. Only the moonlight shone upon the clearing. A perfect one-on-one setting.
“Well now…”
A big catch had just fallen into my lap — one that didn’t look easy to kill.
I rose to my feet, folded my arms, and spoke solemnly to the man presumed to be the Paegeomhoe master.
“Welcome. You look quite strong… baldy.”
“……”