Chapter 15

Chapter 15
“Those miserable wretches! I’ll tear them apart and swallow them whole!”

Wang Gon arrived back at his estate, his spirit raging with an uncontrollable thirst for retaliation.

Whenever the healer’s fingers brushed against his bruised visage during the examination, agonizing spikes of pain flared through him, making him feel as though death itself was knocking at the door. Throughout his confinement, pure fury had numbed the worst of the ache, but under deliberate medical care, the agony blossomed with brutal intensity.

His countenance was bloated beyond recognition, and even forming words sent violent tremors reverberating through his skull, as though his brainpan were being violently shaken. To make matters worse, several teeth lay broken inside his mouth, leaving him staring at an appalling monstrosity whenever he caught sight of the bronze mirror.

Yet, this bodily torment was nothing compared to the true dread gnawing at him.

What terrified him most was imagining the reaction from the main branch of Shin-hwa-bang once news reached them.

The Bang Lord cared solely for sheer competence. Morality, personality, virtues, or ancient ties—none of these carried any weight. Raw ability was the only currency, and failing to deliver meant swift and absolute replacement. Countless subordinates were waiting for the chance to seize the Tang Lord position within Shin-hwa-bang, so a single blunder could spell his total downfall.

Whenever the Bang Lord—or more realistically, an appointed envoy—demanded a full account of the incident, he desperately required an explanation that would satisfy them without stirring doubt.

“I will march out and slaughter every last one of them with my own hands.”

Heuk Su’s reckless assertion fell far short of what was needed.

At an organizational level, plunging into full-blown hostility against the Murim Alliance was an outcome they had to avoid.

Heuk Su, completely ignorant of grand strategy, was guided solely by his boiling temper.

*That bastard—I swear I will slit his throat.*

Indignation churned through his very bones.

His fractured snout sat tightly bound in cloth, yet the deepest gash remained carved directly into his self-esteem.

He could scarcely fathom being overpowered by an ordinary squad commander who had been cast out of Cheol-geom-dan. To suffer defeat in a single brief exchange was an unbearable humiliation. Had they engaged in a prolonged, earnest duel, he was confident he could have overcome even the unit leader himself.

“I simply let down my guard!”

“Naturally you did.”

Wang Gon glared at Heuk Su, smoldering with irritation.

*Useless fool! Unable to handle even a single opponent. A complete waste of gold.*

Still, he suppressed his visible anger. Heuk Su remained his most capable subordinate.

“Next time, there will be no slip-ups. I’ll execute the task without a hitch.”

In truth, Wang Gon desperately wished to set Heuk Su loose so he could butcher them down to the last man.

Yet circumstance forbade it.

Had they managed to avoid capture, the slaughter of Yang Chu’s household could easily have been pinned upon the mysterious assassin. But after trading blows in broad daylight, any reckless butchery now carried catastrophic risks.

“Restrain yourself for the time being.”

One single misstep, and ruin was guaranteed. He was not the exalted Bang Lord, after all—merely a local Tang Lord governing the southern reaches of Jeol-gang Province. This catastrophe had already grown far too messy for even the Bang Lord to resolve effortlessly.

“Regardless of your momentary carelessness, that fellow is far from an ordinary ruffian.”

The imposing aura he had projected was unforgettable. It transcended simple physical power—it was an aura of absolute subjugation.

“We must determine who he truly is before taking any action. You will not lift a finger until then. Do you hear me?”

Heuk Su begrudgingly gave his consent, withering under Wang Gon’s cold and unyielding stare.

“I understand.”

From that moment onward, a ferocious struggle tore through Heuk Su’s mind.

A conflict between his sense of duty and his uncontrollable temper.

—

Im Choong paid a visit to Hwang the physician, who had conducted the postmortem examination on Yang Chu.

The inspection had concluded days earlier, but the continuous chaos caused by Tae-jeong-pa and the trouble with Wang Gon had prevented him from following up until this hour.

“A lone assassin. Observe this mark.”

Hwang gestured toward the fatal wound upon Yang Chu’s remains, detailing his findings.

“Delivered in a single thrust. It was not a slashing motion—the blade was driven straight through the heart with lethal accuracy. In all my decades of inspecting deceased men, I have never seen a cleaner strike.”

“It must have been carried out by an expert whose martial prowess surpasses even Great Hero Yang, wouldn’t you say?”

“Without question.”

“Or perhaps an acquaintance took him by surprise.”

Endless theories ran through their thoughts. A sudden strike delivered while his vigilance dropped remained a plausible theory.

“Be that as it may, the culprit handles a blade with extraordinary finesse.”

“Did the rest of the kin suffer the exact same fate?”

“Indeed. A single fatal stroke apiece. There was no sign of wavering—they were eliminated without an ounce of hesitation.”

Ending the life of an armed warrior was entirely different from butchering defenseless innocents, even if both fell under the umbrella of murder.

“A cold-blooded butcher who harbors no remorse for ending lives. Were there any distinct traces? Any indication of a specialized blade? Any residue of toxins?”

“Not a single trace. Perfectly standard throughout.”

“Understood. My thanks.”

Just as Im Choong turned his boots toward the exit, Hwang called after him.

“Track him down. A lunatic capable of such deeds must not be permitted to walk beneath the heavens.”

In the past, he likely would have offered a nonchalant nod. He would have answered with a half-hearted jest, mixed with weary resignation.

—*Of course, we’ll round up every deranged cutthroat, every villain, the entire lot.*

Such had been the demeanor of the former Mun-seong branch chief, Im Choong.

Yet now, things were entirely different. His words held genuine conviction.

“We shall expend every ounce of our strength.”

Despite the deep hour, Im Choong chose not to head back to the outpost, steering his steps toward Yang Chu’s residence instead.

He hoped some overlooked detail might still linger in the dust.

Passing through the front entryway, his senses flared with sudden wariness. A presence lingered within the open courtyard.

“Show yourself!”

Im Choong whipped his blade from its sheath, bellowing sharply.

The shadowy shape whirled around in clear fright—it was Beon Saeng.

“Hold on! It is only me, Branch Chief!”

“What are you doing roaming this ground?”

“I was hoping some missed lead might still be hidden here.”

“It seems great minds think alike, does it not?”

Finding Beon Saeng on the premises unexpectedly washed away the stiffness in his shoulders.

“Did you not feel uneasy lingering here alone in the dark?”

“I imagined I would be terrified, but truth be told—not in the least.”

Those who met their end here were the ones deserving of sorrow. His heart ached at his failure to bring their murderer to justice.

“Were the two little ones also taken?”

“Indeed.”

“What kind of inhuman fiend would lay a hand on innocent youngsters?”

Beon Saeng sank into quiet contemplation. On the very first morning, he had neglected even to pay his respects here—relaying the report regarding Wang Gon to Im Choong had taken precedence over all else.

*I offer you my deepest apologies.*

He silently pleaded for forgiveness from the lingering spirits.

“We will bring that bastard to light, without fail.”

Im Choong gave an unyielding nod of agreement.

“Have you discovered anything useful?”

“I combed through every corner—not a single scrap. You should return home first. I will perform one more sweep.”

“We can comb through it together.”

“Head back. Your wife must surely be fretting by now.”

“Baek is keeping watch over the residence.”

“You truly place your faith in Baek-hyung now, do you?”

Im Choong examined his own inner thoughts. Was it genuine faith? Or simply the lack of alternatives?

“Even if some other grand master were present, he would still feel at ease leaving his kin in the hands of Baek-hyung.”

Im Choong arrived at the very same conclusion.

Their exchange drew to a close, and both men resumed searching every nook of the property, inside and out. Yet their renewed determination produced no new leads.

Whoever had perpetrated the crime had cleaned their trail as impeccably as they had wielded their lethal sword—without leaving behind a single flaw.

“We should bring an end to tonight’s search.”

With that, they departed. Though empty-handed, revisiting the scene had brought a sense of duty fulfilled.

—

A cloaked figure vaulted over the defensive perimeter of the Mun-seong branch with utter stealth.

Shifting with practiced ease, he quickly reached the domestic quarters where Im Choong’s wife, Ju-ssi, and their child resided.

The moment he slipped inside the doorway, a calm voice echoed behind him.

“There is nobody here.”

The prowler froze mid-stride, turning his head.

Baek So-cheon stood firmly behind him.

“I cannot allow filthy vermin to wander where young children sleep.”

A chilling sneer escaped the intruder as he pulled off his cloth face-cover. Revealing a smashed, grotesque snout—it was none other than Heuk Su.

“So you foresaw my arrival?”

“I took your measure. You are precisely the brand of filth that would come.”

Just as Baek So-cheon had reasoned, untamed fury had utterly eclipsed any sense of obedience.

Heuk Su could no longer keep his impulses in check. The throbbing agony pulsing from his crushed nose only drove him closer to madness.

He had tried to exert patience, but the reckless chatter within the watering hole had undone him.

—*Have you heard the rumors? Heuk Su was completely humiliated by that newcomer at the branch.*

—*He got utterly flattened in the dirt.*

—*What sort of hidden master dwells in that outpost to topple Heuk Su so easily?*

—*It seems his inflated reputation has finally burst wide open.*

He had nearly unsheathed his blade to butcher the gossiping patrons right there.

Yet he had reined himself in. He decided he would first break Baek So-cheon into pieces, forcing those fools to eat their own words. The slaughter could wait until afterward.

Marching directly from the tavern, he had leaped over the perimeter. The reek of alcohol pouring from his breath laid his state bare.

“First, I’ll take your life. Then, when Im Choong steps foot inside, I will violate his woman directly before his eyes and peel the flesh from his brat’s living frame.”

The killing aura radiating from Heuk Su was crude, despicable—and entirely sincere.

“For what cause?”

“What do you mean, for what cause?”

“Why conduct yourself like a mindless lunatic?”

“Are you truly playing the fool right now?”

“You suffered a beating at my hands. Very well, seek your vengeance against me. Why must you drag the branch chief’s kin into this?”

“That barely scratches the surface. My reputation has already been trampled into the mud.”

“A bruised, fragile vanity? And so you resort to monstrous madness simply to soothe your pride? I have crossed paths with plenty of your kind… yet the revulsion never fades.”

“What did you bark at me? You miserable dog! You will suffer the most excruciating end imaginable.”

Baek So-cheon raised an open palm, halting Heuk Su’s furious forward charge.

“Hold your ground. Answer me one final inquiry: were you the one who slaughtered Yang Chu’s household?”

Heuk Su uttered not a single syllable, yet the arrogant smirk curling his lips answered loud and clear. He was never the type to mask his visceral drives—his very presence here stood as living proof.

“Did you butcher them with your own hands?”

“Do you take me for some cheap hitman? This clash here is solely for my personal pride.”

With a sharp rasp, Heuk Su cleared his blade from the scabbard.

Though drowning in drink and wrath, he did not charge blindly this time—he had absorbed that much from his prior failure. Keeping his distance, he looked to capitalize on the fact that Baek held no steel in his grip.

*Shick! Shick!*

Baek So-cheon smoothly leaned clear of the incoming flurry. Looking strictly at combat skill, Heuk Su possessed genuine proficiency—he stood on par with a squad commander from Cheol-geom-dan; while he might not bring down a true unit general, his fundamentals were solid.

Baek deliberately held his strength in reserve, treating the flurry like a light sparring drill.

*Shieeeek.*

He effortlessly ducked beneath an attack aimed squarely at his chest; the steel blade immediately curved on a slant, angling toward his throat.

*Peeit!*

The sharp edge whistled by, barely brushing past his skin.

Heuk Su dropped his posture close to the earth, sweeping violently toward the lower leg.

*Got you!*

Triumph flashed across his mind—yet the strike sliced empty air by a microscopic margin.

Lethal jabs, sweeping slashes, overhead cleaves, sweeping arcs—Heuk Su unloaded his entire repertoire.

Yet Baek moved as though reading every intention before it materialized. Every vicious swing missed by a terrifyingly narrow fraction.

*Ah!*

*Damn it all!*

*Just an inch away!*

Muffled curses escaped the swordsman’s lips.

Heuk Su registered only mounting fury, oblivious to the monstrous precision at play: Baek was weaving clear with the clearance of a mere finger’s width, every single time. To execute such evasions without deploying a wisp of inner energy was pure martial perfection.

As the exchange lengthened, Heuk Su’s body suddenly seized up.

*…!*

A bizarre sensation overcame him—he had slipped into an unintended, hypnotic trance.

It had not occurred naturally; it had been artificially induced. Something entirely incomprehensible.

The moment he snapped back to awareness, his destiny was sealed.

Baek, who had maintained a purely defensive dance until now, exploded forward—bursting in at the most demoralizing, bewildering instant.

*Thwack!*

A ruthless elbow crashed into Heuk Su’s snout—already fractured, it was now reduced to ruined pulp.

“Gaaahhhh!”

A frenzied shriek burst from Heuk Su’s throat.

*Thud!*

A follow-up kick from Baek shattered his jawbone with brutal efficiency.

Yet Heuk Su showed his warrior instincts—he lashed out with his steel even while falling backward.

However, with his concentration completely ruined, the blade merely whipped uselessly through the void.

Gliding forward like an inescapable specter, Baek seized his wrist in an iron clamp and wrenched it.

*Crack.*

The surging inner energy within Heuk Su resisted further rotation; without hesitation, Baek’s opposite fist hammered straight into his windpipe.

*Crack!*

The flow of internal power shattered in an instant—

*Grrrind!*

The trapped wrist was utterly obliterated by nothing more than terrifying physical muscle.

“Gyyyaaaaah!”

Agony beyond description tore through him. Baek comprehended the paths of internal martial arts flawlessly: the circulation of power, the crucial acupoints, and the exact methods to dismantle them.

*Thump!*

A brutal fist plunged violently into his ribs.

Heuk Su collapsed to the floor like a rag doll.

“Ughhhh.”

Amid the blazing torment, a chilling terror gripped him: Baek’s icy, uncaring eyes froze the blood in his veins.

“Violate a man’s wife, butcher his child—right before the husband’s weeping eyes?”

Baek elevated into the air, driving his knuckles down like a meteor into the fallen man’s chest.

*Thump!*

Fractured ribs pierced deep into internal flesh.

*Gaaahhh!*

The suffocating torment locked the scream deep inside his throat.

*Thump.*

Another blow hammered directly upon the ruined ribcage.

“Hup!”

Heuk Su’s eyeballs bulged nearly out of their sockets. The suffering had long exceeded human endurance. A swift demise would have been an act of boundless mercy—yet the broken bone shards had miraculously avoided his heart, whether by cruel luck or deliberate design.

*Mercy… please halt!*

This was nothing less than the depths of the underworld.

Baek, by contrast, appeared almost revitalized by the brutality.

“So this is how it feels? Having walked the path of the sword for so long, I had forgotten the raw thrill of bare fists.”

*Thud! Thump! Thud!*

Every concussive strike to his torso brought agony that defied human language.

“Ughhhh… p-ple…ase… s-spare… m-me…”

Baek drove his fist downward once more.

*Crunch!*

“Kraaaagh!”

A fountain of crimson blood erupted into the night air.

As his mind shattered past its absolute threshold and his vision rolled back into his head, Baek delivered the closing sentence: leaping upward, he drove his heel directly down upon the man’s chest.

*Boom! Crunnnch!*

The remaining bone framework was thoroughly pulverized—bringing instantaneous death.

Elsewhere beneath the heavens, gentle moonlight bathed the tender murmurs of lovers. Yet on this night, it cascaded coldly across Heuk Su’s lifeless remains, mirroring the unfeeling chill within the eyes of Baek So-cheon.

“A thoroughly shameless wretch—threatening helpless innocents, yet begging on your knees when death draws near? Keep that pathetic garbage to yourself.”