Chapter 22

Chapter 22
The separation between Baek So-cheon and his stalker spanned roughly ten paces.

From such close quarters, an errant shot was utterly unthinkable.

A mere twitch of the index finger would conclude the entire affair.

Even so, Cheon Yang-ho found himself pausing. Unable to comprehend the sudden hesitation gripping his chest, he forced his racing thoughts to settle.

Put no faith in your own nerves. Trust the Sip-bo Jeol-myeong-chim!

The weapon had earned a spot on the Murim Alliance’s registry of prohibited arms, an undeniable testament to its lethal certainty.

Take his life, and an easy future of luxury awaits. Go on, simply pull the trigger.

Cheon Yang-ho held his finger directly over the mechanism—right at that very moment.

Baek So-cheon smoothly untwisted from his inverted posture, planting both feet firmly upon the dirt before addressing the empty air in an offhand tone.

“Now that you’ve arrived, why remain hidden? What purpose is there in skulking about?”

Cheon Yang-ho jerked so violently that the Sip-bo Jeol-myeong-chim nearly slipped from his grasp.

By sheer luck, he managed to guide the contraption into the folds of his garment instead.

I held my very breath in complete silence. How did he detect me?

What was more, the man supposedly possessed not a shred of internal energy. By what means had he perceived someone drawing near?

Cheon Yang-ho stepped forward from the concealment of the gloom.

“I happened to stroll past and caught sight of you exercising. In this stifling weather, your commitment is remarkable.”

“I once assumed a quiet settlement like this would be filled with kind-hearted folk, yet the locals seem far more cutthroat than anywhere else. I suppose that is why I have no choice but to train.”

“An accurate observation. Tales praising rural warmth belong to days long past. In any case, do carry on.”

Just as he prepared to pivot away and secure the hidden device within his sleeve, an inquiry from Baek So-cheon rooted him to the spot.

“How does the investigation into Yang Chu’s tragedy progress?”

“There are still no traces to follow. The culprit leaves nothing behind.”

“It could not be a simple lack of desire to apprehend him, could it?”

Cheon Yang-ho’s brow twitched for an instant.

This insolent dog.

Suppressing the flare of hostility within, he stretched his lips into a polite curve.

“It must merely reflect my own shortcomings.”

Recognizing that the man before him was far from ordinary, reckless action was out of the question.

“Setting that aside, however did you perceive my arrival?”

He nearly added the phrase without possessing any internal energy, but bit his tongue in time. Uttering those words would betray the fact that he had conducted a background inquiry.

“My senses have always been unusually acute. Did I not discern the century-old ha-su-o within that crate earlier purely by its fragrance?”

“Ah, of course. Truly an enviable set of senses.”

Only then did he convince himself of the manner in which Baek So-cheon had discovered his presence.

His sense of smell.

He assumed Baek So-cheon had caught a drift of his personal scent.

Yet on this occasion, scent had played no part whatsoever—it was the razor-sharp instinct of Baek So-cheon directing him.

Ever since the total loss of his internal energy, his physical vessel had continually restored itself, refining his fundamental instincts to an astonishing degree. Beyond the standard five senses, his raw intuition had evolved into something frighteningly accurate.

This uncanny awareness arose from the very same phenomenon that had rebuilt his flesh—deprived of internal cultivation, his physical form had broken past mortal limitations to balance the deficit, carrying his senses along with it.

While the two exchanged words, the gap dividing Baek So-cheon and Cheon Yang-ho dwindled down to a mere three or four strides.

Cheon Yang-ho felt his pulse quicken against his ribs.

Do I strike him right now? At this distance, demise is absolute.

Throughout the realm, no martial practitioner had ever successfully evaded the discharge of the Sip-bo Jeol-myeong-chim from within four paces.

Above all, his associate Gwak had verified with absolute certainty that Baek So-cheon harbored no internal cultivation. A keen sense of smell would provide no salvation against such a weapon.

What stirred Cheon Yang-ho’s greed further was the complete absence of caution displayed by Baek So-cheon. The man did not even glance in his direction, casually brushing away perspiration with a towel.

The opportunity has arrived. A single release, and twenty thousand nyang belong to me.

He could live out his remaining years enveloped in splendor, never worrying over a single copper coin again.

Align the aim… and unleash it.

Though his hands were seasoned in taking human lives, his heart thumped wildly against his chest.

Just then, Baek So-cheon cast a sidelong glance toward him.

“You appear rather wound up.”

“Is that so? It is likely due to the oppressive heat. I have always struggled under the sun.”

“Yet you seem to harbor no aversion toward under-the-table silver.”

“Pardon?”

“Come now, take no offense. It was merely a jest. You seem to display such blatant favoritism toward Shin-hwa-bang that I could not resist poking fun.”

Cheon Yang-ho gave an awkward nod, his lips stretched into an unnatural grin.

“Would you be so kind as to fetch me a cup of water?”

“Give me a moment.”

The very second Baek So-cheon turned his shoulders away—

Whoosh!

Thwack.

Both figures froze instantly.

Cheon Yang-ho held the Sip-bo Jeol-myeong-chim raised squarely toward Baek So-cheon, while the latter twisted his torso around to examine his own back.

A projectile had torn through the air and embedded itself cleanly into the flesh.

Cheon Yang-ho’s countenance broke into an exultant grin. As expected, no complications had arisen.

The strike had landed without a hitch—why had he allowed himself to become so anxious? The projectile had found its mark with flawless precision.

“Ow! That bites quite sharply! What is the meaning of this?”

“What else could it be? The Paradise Needle destined to escort you straight into the underworld. Hahaha!”

As Baek So-cheon reached a hand backward to tear the projectile out, Cheon Yang-ho offered a mocking smirk.

“Your efforts are futile. The shaft dissolves upon breaking the skin. The lethal venom is already coursing through your veins.”

“Why target me?”

“I was entrusted with a job, and the payment was accepted. Indeed, your deduction was accurate—I receive compensation from Shin-hwa-bang. Their gold far outweighs the meager stipends offered by the Alliance. Would you not have pocketed it yourself?”

“I certainly did not.”

“That is because you are a fool. Ah, wait—did you not draw a handsome wage back during your days in Cheol-geom-dan?”

Drunk on the euphoria of having secured twenty thousand nyang, Cheon Yang-ho allowed his tongue to run entirely loose, spouting more than necessary.

“I came across this marvelous tool years ago purely by fortune. I hoarded it away either to deliver myself from catastrophe or to overturn my destiny. I scarcely imagined its moment would come today.”

“There was at least a single truth in what you said.”

“What?”

“That this very hour would mark the transformation of your destiny.”

Now that the reality struck him, Baek So-cheon ought to have collapsed into a lifeless heap by this point, yet he remained standing with utter composure. A sudden chill of unease gripped Cheon Yang-ho.

His eyes darted down toward the spent Sip-bo Jeol-myeong-chim resting in his palm.

It cannot possibly be a dud…

As though peering directly into his unsettled mind, Baek So-cheon spoke aloud.

“The Sip-bo Jeol-myeong-chim functioned without flaw.”

Hearing the precise name roll from his lips threw Cheon Yang-ho into sheer disbelief.

“Then how can this be?”

His voice shook uncontrollably.

“There existed an era when killers trailed me like swarming parasites. I danced on the edge of death by venom more times than I care to recall—truly exhausting days. Yet because my survival was essential to them, the Alliance mobilized every resource at their disposal. Even the Divine Physician of Poisons subjected my body to the rarest medicinal roots and exotic toxins imaginable.”

“What on earth are you trying to say…?”

An abrupt realization struck Cheon Yang-ho like a bolt of lightning. Stumbling backward in sheer horror, he shrieked.

“Man-dok Bul-chim Ji-che?!”

“Indeed, that is the term they use throughout the jianghu to describe this flesh.”

“Yet you possess no internal energy whatsoever!”

“Listen closely: the Man-dok Bul-chim Ji-che is an alteration of one’s fundamental physical constitution. Forging it demands a boundless reservoir of internal energy, but once the physical transformation is complete, the presence or absence of cultivation becomes entirely irrelevant.”

Cheon Yang-ho turned ashen, his mind overwhelmed by pure astonishment and racing doubts.

What madness is this? For what possible reason would they construct an impervious vessel for a mere squad commander of Cheol-geom-dan?

Yet there was no luxury to ponder the question.

Discarding the spent container, he drew the blade at his waist. A sliver of hope endured—after all, his opponent remained entirely devoid of internal cultivation.

Corrupted though he might be, he had not attained the rank of branch leader without skill.

His sword thrust forth directly toward Baek So-cheon’s critical pressure points—rapid, deadly, and accurate.

Yet his martial prowess could not compare to that of Heuk Su, and Baek So-cheon’s physical vigor was even greater now than during that previous encounter.

Treating the man like a basic practice dummy—or a simple plaything—would have posed no challenge at all.

Nevertheless, Baek So-cheon elected to resolve the matter with swift finality. Toying with such a wretch held no value.

Swoosh.

Slipping effortlessly past the opening thrust, Baek So-cheon drove his foot toward Cheon Yang-ho’s knee.

Crack.

The brutal impact fractured the joint sideways in a single blow.

“Aargh!”

Cheon Yang-ho stumbled violently, lashing his blade out in frantic desperation. Yet Baek So-cheon had already read the motion, tilting his upper body backward while driving a heavy kick squarely into his midsection.

Thud.

Cheon Yang-ho was sent skidding across the dirt.

Though the strike had seemed effortless, it felt as though his internal organs had ruptured completely.

Clamping his left palm over his torn abdomen, he attempted another lunging stab—

“Urgh.”

Having forgotten the shattered state of his leg, his balance disintegrated instantly.

In the very next heartbeat—

Bam!

Baek So-cheon rotated through the air in a fluid arc, driving an explosive fist into the lower curve of Cheon Yang-ho’s jaw.

There was no drawn-out clash. The struggle concluded right there.

Cheon Yang-ho was lifted into the air before crashing heavily back onto the earth.

Baek So-cheon recovered the discarded weapon from the ground and used the flat side of the steel to pat the senseless man’s face.

Cheon Yang-ho blinked his eyes open, only to find Baek So-cheon gazing down upon him like an impending executioner. Terror tore from his throat.

“Have mercy!”

“Stand.”

“Understood!”

Cheon Yang-ho dragged himself upright with frantic haste, dropping immediately into a deep kneel. The drive for personal survival dictated his entire existence—he had always lived purely for his own skin. With his mortality hanging by a thread, his thoughts discarded everything except the pursuit of breath.

“Heuk Su lies resting directly beneath the earth where you kneel.”

Cheon Yang-ho recoiled, his gaze dropping to the ground in terror.

He had already deduced that Baek So-cheon had dispatched Heuk Su.

What terrified him to the marrow was the realization that the remains had been buried right within the perimeter of the courtyard.

“Do not look upon me with such an expression. Stacking dead bodies is hardly a favored pastime of mine.”

“O-of course.”

“Then again, adding another couple of corpses hardly makes much difference. It would keep Heuk Su from growing lonely down there.”

“I beg of you, spare my life!”

“Give me a reason why I should.”

Cheon Yang-ho understood with absolute certainty that an ill-chosen word would spell instant death.

“Take this before anything else.”

He retrieved the coin pouch given by Wang Gon and presented it forward. Surrendering such a treasure tore at his very soul, yet preserving his neck came before all else.

“This is the advance Wang Gon handed over to purchase your death.”

He redirected all culpability without a second thought.

Baek So-cheon flattened the length of the sword; Cheon Yang-ho carefully rested the purse upon the metal.

Allowing the fabric to slide down the steel into his waiting hand, Baek So-cheon weighed the contents and verified the sum.

“Is this the entirety of what my existence is valued at?”

“An identical sum was promised upon the deed’s completion.”

“Even combined, that amounts to a mere twenty thousand nyang? They must be playing a jest. Do you hold any concept of the price the Black Heaven Alliance placed upon my head during my finest years? Three million.”

Cheon Yang-ho could not begin to fathom such an outrageous claim. Three million nyang, for a mere standout officer of Cheol-geom-dan?

An utter lunatic. He simply babbles whatever madness enters his skull because he holds the weapon.

Yet in this moment, even if the man claimed his worth was ten million, Cheon Yang-ho would have showered him with honeyed praise and endless flattery.

“Wang Gon possesses eyes that cannot recognize a true titan of the martial realm.”

“You failed to recognize one as well.”

“A lowly insect such as myself possesses no vision.”

His mouth moved solely under the guidance of animal survival.

“Did Wang Gon instruct the slaughter of Yang Chu’s kin?”

“It would appear so.”

“Appear?”

“He refrained from stating the words directly… yet of that fact, I am entirely convinced.”

Cheon Yang-ho hurriedly described the unsettling demeanor of Wang U alongside the specifics of the newly assigned bounty.

“The blame rests squarely upon their shoulders. Those treacherous dogs! Unforgivable filth.”

“Who served as the actual blade?”

“I remain ignorant of the executioner’s face. Yet I shall uncover the truth immediately.”

Baek So-cheon concluded from his demeanor that Cheon Yang-ho had been kept entirely in the dark regarding Shin-hwa-bang’s assault against Chil-geom-hoe. He was nothing more than a corrupt lackey content with skimming dirty silver.

“I shall pledge my loyalty and serve you henceforth.”

“Serve me? To what end?”

“I can be of immense utility. Entrust every foul and difficult chore to my hands.”

Naturally, deep within his chest, thoughts of future retaliation festered in silence.

“Heed my words, Branch Leader Cheon.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I carry a profound distaste for ill-natured men. It fosters an urge to keep only gentle souls around me. Do you follow?”

Cheon Yang-ho answered without a beat of delay.

“I shall mend my foul nature entirely. I shall become a renewed soul. Whatever you dictate, I shall execute without question.”

“Do you truly believe you can change?”

“There is nothing that dedicated labor cannot rectify.”

“Very well, let us presume you can. Even so, a solitary dilemma persists.”

“Name it, please!”

Baek So-cheon fixed him with a penetrating, unyielding stare.

“In all your days, have you ever granted life to a soul you had already decided to slay?”

“Yes, I have!”

The declaration burst forth entirely on instinct. A single occurrence surfaced in his memory—though it had not been an act of clemency, but an utter failure where the intended victim had successfully escaped beyond his reach.

“I displayed benevolence on one occasion!”

In that fleeting breath—

Slash!

Baek So-cheon cleanly opened Cheon Yang-ho’s throat with a solitary arc of steel.

A fountain of crimson erupted forth.

Cheon Yang-ho collapsed into the dust without uttering another sound, all warmth vanishing from his form.

Looking down at the newly fallen corpse, Baek So-cheon murmured in an indifferent voice.

“I have not.”

His gaze dropped to the edge of the blade, and with an irritated grimace, he cast the weapon down beside the body.

“Tsk, I swore off handling the sword… blast it all.”