Chapter 474: If the Money Isn't Enough, I'm Taking This Too.
Chapter 474: If the Money Isn't Enough, I'm Taking This Too.
Once again, the reaction was split down the middle.
The vast majority reacted as if they were dealing with a madman. Emboldened by the absolute security of their numbers—ninety-nine in total—sneers curled onto their lips.
A few, however, grew tense.
A single, chilling worry flickered in their minds: What if he isn't a madman?
The moment that assumption became reality, his words about "reducing the number of mouths" were no different than the Grim Reaper unfurling a ledger of the dead.
Yeom-je was among those who worried. He stared intensely at Geom Mu-geuk, trying his best to gauge the man’s hidden strength, but he couldn't reach a conclusion.
The boy was young—far too young. No matter how he looked at him, he didn't seem like much of a master. And yet, here he was, uttering such provocations in this situation.
"Since you’ve likely grown fond of them over time, Guild Master, I’ll handle it for you. Which mouth should I start with? From where I’m standing, they all look like mouths that could stand to be removed."
The Immortals grimaced in unison. More than a few wanted to rush forward and kill this arrogant brat immediately.
Yeom-je had truly never seen anything like it. No master in the world would dare speak such insanity in front of them. Even the Murim Alliance wouldn't dare launch a reckless assault when they were all gathered like this.
Is he aiming for that? Is he trying to feign mastery through sheer hubris?
He was so perplexed that he even considered the possibility. Truly, the more he looked at the man, the more enigmatic he became.
Fine. First, I must see his skill.
Before the boy could strike, they would move first.
Yeom-je spoke with a relaxed smile. "These lives are tenacious; reducing the number of mouths won't be easy."
At Yeom-je’s signal, nine men—from the 90th to the 98th Immortals—stepped forward. It wouldn't be too late to decide their next move after accurately gauging the opponent's strength.
They surrounded Geom Mu-geuk.
Geom Mu-geuk glanced around at them. "Are these the youngest?"
Though he asked as if guessing, Geom Mu-geuk had accurately gauged their abilities. Based on their momentum, they were weaker than the others.
Among this large crowd, Geom Mu-geuk had discerned their exact level with just a brief glance. That wasn't all.
"It seems you haven't even practiced fighting as a unit."
He saw that correctly as well. They had never had the chance to fight using combined attacks. For the most part, they simply swarmed together for revenge and carried out one-sided massacres. Even those instances had been rare lately.
You want to test my skill?
Of course, Geom Mu-geuk had no intention of playing along with his opponent's plan.
With his sword hanging low, Geom Mu-geuk appeared to walk slowly toward the opponent directly in front of him.
Whoosh!
In an instant, he pivoted right and lunged. The movement was so fast and sudden that the man on the right had his throat slit before he could even swing his sword.
Spurt!
As blood sprayed in all directions, Geom Mu-geuk’s figure was already charging toward another Immortal. The opponent thrust his sword instinctively.
Two blades grazed through the air. Because he was thoroughly concealing his true strength, Geom Mu-geuk’s sword was exactly half a step faster.
Thuck!
When the second Immortal fell, groans erupted from all sides. It was out of frustration, the observers believing that if the Immortal had been just a hair faster, he could have won.
The sword that pierced the second opponent’s heart spun in a wide arc, flying toward the man charging from the opposite side.
Splash!
The blood clinging to Geom Mu-geuk’s blade flew through the air and into the Immortal’s eyes. Whether it was intentional or accidental was impossible to tell, but the man instinctively closed his eyes. He would never open them again.
Once more, groans broke out. Of all things, to get blood in his eyes?
As he cut down the third man, an ambush came from behind.
The attacker was almost certain of success, but the strike missed by a hair’s breadth. It was so close that the thought 'just one more' naturally occurred to him, but he was not granted a second chance.
The blood he sprayed showered the area again, obscuring the vision of the remaining Immortals.
He isn't spraying blood on purpose to block our sight, is he? No, there's no way.
The observers couldn't help but wonder. That was how much blood was fountaining into the air. Geom Mu-geuk’s fighting style was not elegant; it was crude and savage. It was a fight reeking of gore.
Of course, there was a reason Geom Mu-geuk fought this way.
The battles were skin-of-the-teeth close. If only they were a bit faster. If only they attacked from a different angle.
Leaving behind such regrets, the remaining Immortals collapsed one after another. The groans of frustration continued, and by the time the ninth groan ended, they were all corpses on the floor.
The stench of their blood filled the hall.
The silence that followed was naturally heavier than when the 99th Immortal had died. They hadn't expected nine masters to die like this without leaving a single scratch on their opponent.
And yet, they didn't feel the opponent was particularly great. Rather, most of the observers felt, 'This guy is incredibly lucky!' In their eyes, these were fights lost by the narrowest of margins.
Furthermore, Geom Mu-geuk’s swordsmanship was far too ordinary.
'Defense should be like that, and the attack should be like that.'
It was the kind of fight that would be perfect to show beginners just starting to learn martial arts. A fight so textbook it could be published as a manual.
Of course, in Yeom-je’s eyes, this fight looked different.
It looked like he was fighting wildly by instinct, but...
The nine subordinates had never once managed a proper combined attack. If two or three had attacked simultaneously, they surely could have led the fight more easily. They certainly must have tried to coordinate, but the opponent's movements hadn't allowed it. Consequently, they were picked off one by one.
What if this was intentional? What if this 'lucky' fight was a cold, hard calculation?
Yeom-je knew how difficult it was to kill these men using only the basics. It was far harder than killing them with flashy techniques.
This fellow has a hidden ace.
After flicking the blood off his sword, Geom Mu-geuk looked at Yeom-je.
"Well, now that I've reduced the number of mouths, why don't you pay back the money?"
Yeom-je didn't answer.
Where on earth did they find a guy like this to send?
Geom Mu-geuk saw the irrepressible greed reflected in Yeom-je’s face. Through prior investigation, Geom Mu-geuk already knew Yeom-je was this kind of man—someone who valued money more than his subordinates. He was the type who would rather give up his life than surrender all the wealth he had earned.
That was why, to open Yeom-je’s vault, one must never rush.
He could have wiped them all out at once, but he had to gradually build the atmosphere through bloodshed, slowly breaking the man's spirit. The primary goal today wasn't killing them, but recovering the money.
"You've grown quite arrogant after killing a few errand boys."
They weren't errand boys, of course, but Yeom-je tried to bolster his momentum while suppressing an inexplicable sense of unease.
Who should I send?
Just as he was debating whether to send the Ten Immortals to nip this in the bud... Geom Mu-geuk did something unexpected.
"Let me through for a moment."
Geom Mu-geuk suddenly began walking toward the Immortals standing on the right.
Startled by the sudden movement, the Immortals in that direction drew their swords and backed away. As they split to the left and right, a path naturally formed. Though the Immortals on either side glared with fierce momentum, Geom Mu-geuk walked between them with a face devoid of fear.
His natural stride was full of openings. They debated whether to attack, but the openings were so blatant that they didn't dare strike.
However, there was one Immortal who couldn't hold back. It was an attack calculated to raise his rank by ten levels in a single stroke.
Swish.
It was an ambush that looked perfect to anyone watching.
Thuck.
Geom Mu-geuk twisted his body to dodge and thrust his sword. Once again, he dodged by pure luck and succeeded in a narrow counterattack.
Even in that moment, several Immortals flinched. They were tormented by the urge to seize the opportunity and attack, but the man who had just died was the 45th Immortal. One of the mid-tier experts among them had failed in his ambush.
It was a close call when the 98th attacked, and it was a close call when the 45th attacked. One should have been able to draw a wise conclusion from these results, but Geom Mu-geuk gave them no time for that.
"Is this painting an original?"
Holding his dripping sword, he had walked over to a painting hanging on the back wall.
Yeom-je asked with a bewildered look, "Why do you ask that?"
"Because if the Guild Master doesn't have enough money, I'm planning to take this too."
Yeom-je’s expression hardened. The opponent was openly mocking him. There was a certain prestige he had to maintain in front of his subordinates. But for now, the strange anxiety this young man provoked was greater.
"Do I look like the kind of person who would hang a fake in a place where people come and go?"
Such pride in a situation reeking of his subordinates' blood? Geom Mu-geuk felt a strange sense of dissonance. But Geom Mu-geuk was the only one who felt it was strange. On the contrary, the subordinates felt no sense of incongruity at those words. For all of them, their own face and money were more important than their comrades.
Geom Mu-geuk began to take the frame off the wall.
He's really taking the painting? Just as Yeom-je’s face contorted...
Sssshhh!
An Immortal nearby didn't miss the chance and launched an ambush. It was the exact moment he took the painting down. Furthermore, when Geom Mu-geuk held the painting in his right hand, the man couldn't contain himself. Of course, in hindsight, he should have.
Whack!
The sword missed by a hair, and Geom Mu-geuk’s left fist, as he turned, slammed into the man's jaw. As the 39th Immortal, he should have been able to withstand a single punch, but he died instantly and collapsed. It didn't even look like a particularly impressive fist technique.
Yeom-je’s gaze was fixed on the painting, not his dead subordinate. He was caught in a single doubt.
Why take the painting now? If he really wanted it, he could just take it later.
Geom Mu-geuk took the frame and placed it on the table where the stacks of banknotes lay. He looked as if everything in the room already belonged to him.
"What do you think you're doing?"
At Yeom-je’s question, Geom Mu-geuk answered calmly. "Because you people have lived this kind of life, there aren't many ways to deal with you. So, do not resent me."
The Immortals stood there staring at Geom Mu-geuk, their faces asking what kind of nonsense he was talking about. In that moment, an ominous thought flashed through Yeom-je’s mind.
Could it be? No, surely not.
It was then.
Sssssssssshhhhhhh!
Yeom-je saw a single line. Not just him—everyone saw it. A single line was drawn cleanly across the air and then vanished.
The line appeared to Geom Mu-geuk’s right. Exactly where he had walked to take the painting. The line passed through the Immortals standing there. It passed through the Immortals in the first row, the second, and the third.
Immediately after, they saw Geom Mu-geuk extending his sword toward them. Only then did they realize. The line they had just seen was a Sword Line created by Geom Mu-geuk’s blade.
Can sword qi really fly out as a single line like that?
It hadn't flown like a brilliant light, nor had it left an afterimage. It was a single line, as if drawn with a ruler. They had never seen such clean sword qi in their lives.
Silence fell over the room.
Click.
The moment Geom Mu-geuk’s Black Demonic Sword entered its scabbard...
Slide.
The bodies of the Immortals standing on the right began to shift out of alignment. The bisected Immortals collapsed on the spot, spraying blood in unison.
"Aaaaagh!"
An Immortal watching from the front screamed. No matter how bold these experts were, the sight of twenty people having their torsos severed in a single strike was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
And then they knew why he had moved the painting from the back wall. The sword qi that had cut the Immortals had left a long, deep line across that very wall.
Yeom-je’s eyes bulged. He had crossed many life-and-death thresholds since entering the Murim, but had he ever been this shocked? He knew the opponent had a hidden ace, but he hadn't expected him to kill twenty subordinates in a single move.
The other Immortals felt the same. No one was sneering anymore. The hot stench of blood hung thick in the main hall.
"He must have exhausted his internal energy! He has nothing left!"
It was a statement that could never have been made by someone who could see into Geom Mu-geuk’s Dantian, but at Yeom-je’s shout, the Immortals drew their swords in unison. They unleashed their killing intent all at once, but Geom Mu-geuk wasn't intimidated in the least.
"I told you not to draw your swords and just pay the money."
Even in this situation, with thirty subordinates dead, the words 'I'll pay' did not come out of Yeom-je’s mouth. Even with all these lives, they hadn't even touched the surface of the three million taels.
"I suppose the number of mouths needs to be reduced further."
This time, Geom Mu-geuk looked toward the left and spoke quietly to the Immortals standing there.
"Fortunately, there are no paintings on this wall."