Chapter 21

Chapter 21
Cheon Yang-ho was nursing a drink inside a tavern when an acquaintance walked in and took the seat opposite him.

“Well, look who decided to drop in out of nowhere,” the newcomer remarked.

This was Gwak-won, the head of the Po-gang branch under the Jeol-gang Branch. Cheon Yang-ho had made the journey all the way out to his territory simply to see him.

“I happened to be in the area and figured it was high time we caught up after so long.”

“How many years has it been now?”

“A couple of years, by my estimate.”

“Time truly does move quickly.”

The two of them had joined the Murim Alliance in the very same batch of inductees. In all honesty, Gwak-won harbored little fondness for Cheon Yang-ho. He knew him as an opportunist who shamelessly exploited others to advance his own interests, and his standing among their former cohort had always been thoroughly soiled.

Yet Gwak-won still maintained a cordial smile across the table for a single, pathetic reality: Cheon Yang-ho possessed genuine influence. He had established himself as a dominant player within the regional branch, and making an enemy of him would only pile endless headaches onto the Po-gang branch. Back during their training days, the rest of their circle had likened him to filth—something you avoided simply because touching it would dirty your hands.

“You’ve never been one to drop by just for pleasantries. What do you actually want?”

“I need to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“During your time at the central headquarters, you served in the Baek-ryong-dan, didn’t you?”

“That’s right.”

Gwak-won had once been considered a promising asset at the alliance’s main seat. However, a catastrophic misstep during an assignment had seen him demoted and cast out to this post.

“Then you must have decent insight into the Cheol-geom-dan as well.”

“Enough of it.”

“Does the name Baek So-cheon ring any bells?”

Gwak-won’s expression twitched for an instant. The suspicion solidified: this visit was entirely calculated, not a spontaneous social call.

“Why bring him up?”

“Because you know who he is.”

“And what makes you interested in him?”

“I assume you caught wind of the incident down at the Mun-seong branch?”

“The massacre involving Yang Chu? Where a psycho butchered his entire household?”

“The very one. I headed down to handle the investigation, and that was where I encountered Baek So-cheon. Something about the man felt strange, and it made me curious.”

“He held considerable sway within the Cheol-geom-dan. Quite an exceptional combatant, too.”

Gwak-won decided right then that he would offer nothing beyond that basic statement. In reality, his knowledge concerning Baek So-cheon ran far deeper—he was fully aware that the man had ascended to become the commander of the Cheol-geom-dan and had even taken the mantle of the Bi-gak lord before his eventual downfall and demotion.

Yet a strict seal of silence hung over everything regarding Baek So-cheon, particularly matters tied to the Bi-gak. Leaking any part of it carried severe consequences, and Gwak-won was still desperately holding onto the hope of earning a transfer back to central headquarters. Had they shared genuine camaraderie, he might have slipped him a warning to drop the subject. But with Cheon Yang-ho sitting across from him, this minimal answer was all he intended to surrender.

“So how in the world did Baek So-cheon wind up stationed out at the Mun-seong branch?”

“He sustained crippling injuries—his inner power is completely gone.”

“He can’t utilize inner power at all?”

“None whatsoever.”

Cheon Yang-ho’s brow furrowed at the disclosure. There was simply no way someone stripped of inner energy could have bested Heuk Su.

“Was his martial prowess truly that remarkable?”

“Without a doubt. Extraordinarily capable—a caliber above standard squad commanders.”

Gwak-won navigated around the finer details, offering statements that remained technically accurate without uncovering the deeper reality.

“I appreciate it. I’ll see you around.”

Cheon Yang-ho rose from his seat and took his leave.

Gwak-won watched him depart, utterly stunned by the audacity of a man who vanished the very second he obtained his answers. He took comfort in having held his tongue, cursing inwardly at the realization that Cheon hadn’t even settled the bill for their table. Prying for intel without so much as buying a single round was infuriatingly insolent.

Whatever business Cheon Yang-ho had cooked up regarding Baek So-cheon, Gwak-won secretly hoped the man would get thoroughly crushed for his trouble. Little did he realize that Cheon Yang-ho’s entanglement with Baek So-cheon was already far deeper and deadlier than he imagined. Had he known the true scope of the disaster waiting for him, he would have gladly paid for the entire tavern tab without a second thought.

—

Heuk Su had completely failed to return.

Whether he had passed out drunk somewhere remained a possibility, but thorough sweeps of every alleyway turned up nothing. Wang Gon found himself clinging to the fragile hope that sheer humiliation had prompted the man to flee the district. At least that scenario meant an uncontrolled threat wasn’t roaming loose.

Reality, however, soon crushed that delusion as his darkest intuitions took form.

“It was Baek So-cheon. He did this.”

He should have acted on the revelation much earlier, right when the Cheol-geom-dan squad leader admitted to being driven out to this rural post. The man was built from the exact same mold—a ruthless killer possessing expert knowledge in erasing all evidence.

Only two paths remained: bring him into the fold, or eliminate him entirely.

Allowing the matter to linger risked alerting the branch leader. Everything had to be dealt with swiftly to maintain the appearance that all operations remained firmly under control.

A subordinate soon approached with an update.

“Cheon Yang-ho is outside requesting to meet.”

This upcoming conversation would settle the ultimate approach: persuasion or bloodshed.

—

A secluded carriage rested quietly within the timberline near the Mun-seong branch. The very vehicle that Wang U had occupied earlier now held Wang Gon within its cabin.

Cheon Yang-ho slipped through the trees, scanning his surroundings to ensure no one had trailed his movements. He stepped inside the cabin, where Wang Gon discarded any pretense of pleasantries to address the situation directly.

“Have you seen any sign of Heuk Su around the branch?”

“None at all. Not a whisper.”

“Baek So-cheon is without question the prime culprit.”

“I ran my own background check on the man.”

Cheon Yang-ho laid out the information he had extracted from Gwak-won.

“A dominant figure within the Cheol-geom-dan?”

“Indeed. Far beyond an ordinary squad commander; his martial arts are of the highest order.”

“The young man seems to have genuine capability.”

“He isn’t a young man. He is thirty-eight.”

“What did you say?”

Wang Gon stiffened in shock. A man of thirty-eight represented a seasoned, battle-tested warrior who had weathered decades of genuine bloodshed.

“Confound it.”

The ease with which Baek had handed out that one-sided thrashing suddenly aligned. They had chosen the wrong opponent to antagonize.

Yet an even graver crisis loomed over them. If that man coordinated with Im Choong to peel back the layers of this incident, everything they built would unravel.

Noticing the dark cast settling over Wang Gon’s features, Cheon Yang-ho ventured cautiously:

“I intend to keep a close watch over him. For the time being, it might be wise to suspend direct contact between us, given how many eyes are watching.”

Wang Gon recognized the attempt to withdraw.

He had no intention of allowing it. The moment an individual accepted that initial illicit payment, their fate was bound. Any thrashing against the ropes only drew the knot tighter. Wang Gon had zero intention of letting his asset slip away.

“You are going to assassinate him.”

Cheon Yang-ho’s eyes widened in disbelief. His suggestion to sever ties had merely been a trial balloon; he never anticipated a blatant order to commit murder.

Persuade or eradicate—Wang Gon had made his choice. Leaving a dangerous adversary alive was an invitation to slaughter. The lingering pain throbbing across his battered face, combined with the festering anxiety over Heuk Su’s disappearance, left no room for hesitation.

“That lies beyond my abilities.”

“You are capable of doing it.”

Wang Gon produced an envelope and laid it out before him.

Resting inside were ten individual one-thousand-nyang notes issued by the Central Plains Bank—an amount triple his usual compensation.

A total of ten thousand nyang.

Given that a squad leader earned roughly eleven hundred nyang across an entire year, this single hit represented nearly nine years of official compensation. It was not an offer anyone could dismiss lightly.

Cheon Yang-ho stared at the bank notes in silence, his thoughts churning violently. Why would this notoriously tight-fisted man suddenly produce ten thousand nyang? A minor beating or the presumed demise of Heuk Su failed to justify an expenditure of this magnitude.

Then, the puzzle pieces snapped into place.

The Wang clan was directly responsible for the Yang Chu bloodbath.

He had held suspicions ever since observing Wang U’s erratic demeanor, but having the reality laid bare left him unsettled. Revealing that he had connected the dots would be suicidal; they would simply turn their blades toward him as well.

“The sum is impressive, certainly… yet I serve the Murim Alliance. Striking down an affiliated martial artist is crossing a line. Especially against an adversary who managed to eliminate Heuk Su.”

While he had never crossed swords with Heuk Su personally, he knew full well the man outmatched him.

“A man who wishes to accomplish a task always devises a path.”

“Be that as it may…”

Cheon Yang-ho deliberately let his voice trail off to test the waters. What followed caught him off guard.

“See the task completed, and another ten thousand nyang is yours.”

Wang Gon’s voice hardened. “Keep your greed in check. My patience is wearing thin.”

It was no longer about greed; a singular, overwhelming reality had seized his mind.

Twenty thousand nyang.

That sum equated to practically two decades of Alliance wages—a fortune capable of completely transforming his life.

“How you orchestrate the death is entirely in your hands. But make it swift, with zero hesitation. Twenty thousand, or you walk away right now.”

The scales had decisively tipped. No argument carried more weight than twenty thousand nyang.

All that remained was executing the deed.

“I will handle it.”

“Excellent.”

Wang Gon pushed the envelope across. As Cheon secured the fortune inside his garments, he spoke again:

“Following his demise, the branch will inevitably launch an inquiry. If the blame falls under my direction, there is no issue. But if another investigator steps in, suspicion could easily turn toward you.”

“A distinct possibility.”

“We utilize the vanished Heuk Su. We point the blame squarely at him.”

“Frame Heuk Su?”

“The man possessed an immense pride regarding his martial prowess. We frame the narrative around him turning rogue and fleeing into hiding.”

Under the guise of protecting Wang Gon’s enterprise, Cheon Yang-ho secured his own clean escape route.

“A clever maneuver.”

Even should Heuk Su’s remains eventually be unearthed down the line, it would matter little—by that hour, the entire branch structure would have already been restructured.

Once Cheon slipped into the darkness, Wang U climbed into the interior from the driver’s platform.

“Father, twenty thousand nyang is excessive.”

This was not money drawn from Shinhwa-bang reserves; it came straight out of their private treasury—funds that Wang U considered his own future legacy. His ultimate ambition was to inherit his father’s domain, enjoying the same supreme authority over Mun-seong like an untouchable sovereign. Achieving that required boundless silver.

“It is indeed a massive fortune. Yet nothing less would have compelled him to act.”

“It still amounts to twenty thousand.”

“Cease your complaints. That twenty thousand nyang secures him as our leashed hound for the rest of his days.”

Wang Gon hungered deeply for the intoxicating grip of command, willing to set everything ablaze if it meant ascending further. Influence bred wealth; once authority was grasped, riches naturally followed.

“Do you grasp the reality now?”

“Understood.”

Wang U’s affirmation carried clear reluctance. He had learned the sweet taste of wealth long before he understood the mechanisms of dominion, and this transaction left a sour flavor behind. Twenty thousand nyang was an exorbitant cost—enough to fund an entire year of lavish revelry within the walls of the Baek-hwa-ru.

—

Cheon Yang-ho saw no purpose in delaying his strike against Baek So-cheon.

Waiting for dawn would bring neither greater opportunity nor a weakened target. Masking his presence completely, he closed the distance toward Baek’s living quarters.

The lure of twenty thousand nyang was impossible to resist.

Furthermore, two vital factors guaranteed his confidence in the outcome.

First, the target was bereft of inner energy. No matter how refined a practitioner’s techniques might be, without internal power, they amounted to nothing more than an empty facade.

Second, resting securely in his grasp was a compact, cylindrical contraption.

The Ship-bo Jeol-myeong-chim—the Ten Steps Deadly Needle.

Laced with an incurable toxin, it boasted an unerring trajectory capable of striking down any living being within a perimeter of ten paces. Due to its horrific lethality, the Murim Alliance had categorized the single-use mechanism as a gold-yong-am-gi, decreeing that mere ownership warranted immediate imprisonment. Cheon had come across the artifact through a stroke of fortune, keeping it hidden away until the right turning point presented itself.

A purse of twenty thousand nyang had finally summoned that moment.

The rhythm of training echoed softly from within the courtyard grounds.

It could not have been better.

Catching an opponent absorbed in martial repetition created the perfect stage for an assassination. Without internal power, the man possessed no means of detecting an intruder stationed beyond the ten-pace threshold.

Beneath the pale moonlight, Baek So-cheon pushed through physical conditioning.

Balancing his entire weight in a handstand atop a single finger, he lowered and raised his body before alternating digits and continuing the strain. Undertaking such an ordeal without the reinforcement of inner power caused heavy perspiration to cascade across his skin.

It was a routine of sheer physical agony, yet Cheon drew his concealed cylinder instead of showing awe. Entirely unaware that his own choices had left him relying on half-truths from Gwak-won, Cheon anchored his aim from deep within the shadows, his resolve entirely set on taking a life.