Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Inhuman
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Dozens of candles burned around the room, but seven had gone out. Even so, the surroundings looked far darker. The thick blood splattered here and there had absorbed the flickering light like the night sky's darkness, pooling into inky black puddles.
The man swept his gaze over the fallen bodies. His eyes paused, fixing on one spot. It was the first two he had taken down.
"Would you look at that? They're dead."
He strode over with an expression that said, *This guy's the one, right?* and circled them once more. He hooked his toe into one man's side and flipped him up with a jerk. The body, which had been face-down in the dirt, flopped over limply.
"What the hell."
He had only struck to kill starting with the third one. Being able to freely slaughter the remaining seven had hinged on leaving those first two alive. He figured he could pry out where they came from and what they were after by interrogating the pair he'd spared.
"Suicide, huh."
He spread his legs wide and squatted down, yanking off the man's mask with one hand.
The face had turned a sickly blue-green. Blackened dead blood oozed from both nostrils and his mouth.
"Tough bastards."
He sprang up and moved to the other one. No different there. Ripping off the mask revealed the same pallor, blood turned pitch black and streaming out. Had they hidden a poison pill in their mouths? No telling when they'd bitten down and died, but either way, they were already gone. No information to be had.
He held his sword at his side and tilted his head once.
A mutter slipped out.
"Strange."
He tilted his head the other way.
"Isn't it kinda weird?"
He turned his gaze toward Seol and Hyang.
He had snatched the lives of seven men in an instant. The remaining two were as good as dead by his hand.
His expression shifted. The air around him changed. That's how it seemed to Seol and Hyang.
Slowly, he stepped toward them.
Step. Step.
Sang's body stiffened.
Hyang, meeting his eyes, took a step back.
"Why didn't they go after you first?"
One step. Another.
Three zhang away. Two zhang. One zhang.
The man stopped right in front of Sang. He stared straight at him and asked.
"Do you know? Why they came at me first?"
Flames kindled in the man's eyes.
Sang could no longer stay calm. He swallowed hard and answered.
"I... wouldn't know."
"Is that so?"
The man smirked and pressed. As if struck by a sudden thought, Sang's lips moved quickly.
"W-We weren't the target. They might've come for you."
"Of course, that's possible. Right after you showed up, at this oh-so-convenient timing."
Sang was at a loss for words.
The man didn't wait for a reply.
He suddenly looked up at the sky. Thick clouds blotted out even the moonlight. A heaven as dark as the black blood pools.
"Anyway, I really do hate the night."
It came out of nowhere.
He lowered his head and looked at Sang.
"The night hides too much. Can't tell what's real."
Shing.
The man slid his sword into its scabbard.
Sang drew a deep breath. A sigh of relief. He simply couldn't predict how that blade might swing.
"So... what happened?"
The man asked.
"We're from the Flame Jade Merchant Guild..."
It was when Sang glanced at Seol and Hyang and began to speak. The man cocked his head and cut him off.
"Not you."
The man pointed at one person.
"You, little miss. Tell me."
Sang and Seol both looked toward Hyang. Seol was trembling. A voice crawled out from within her hood.
"I... I'm..."
"Don't play weak. You're stronger than your big sister, body and soul."
"Th-That's not true."
The man smirked.
The dimmed light cast deep shadows on his face. His smile felt all the thicker, more cruel for it.
"Fine."
The man took another step forward. His gaze fixed on Hyang.
"Putting that aside, what happened to that Yeom Seoksan fellow? He dead?"
Hyang's body went rigid as if struck by lightning.
Yeom Seoksan.
The head of the Flame Jade Merchant Guild, and father to Seol and Hyang. Or more precisely, their adoptive father.
The story wasn't anything special. The guild head had once loved a single woman deeply, long ago, and they had married. After she met an untimely end to illness at a young age, he never remarried. With no heirs from their union, a man like Yeom Seoksan, who had no mind for a second wife, naturally had no children. Then, one day, he came across two pitiful orphan sisters in a corner of Shanxi and took them in. Those were Seol and Hyang. In his later years, he showered more affection on his adopted daughters than any blood kin could claim.
In the end, no different from a real father. Which made the man's blunt question a dagger twisting in the sisters' hearts.
"Father is..."
Hyang bowed her head. Seol cut in with a stubborn tone.
"We don't know yet."
Hyang turned to her sister. Seol shook her head and added.
"We don't know until we see it with our own eyes."
The man didn't smile this time.
He asked.
"The assassins?"
"No idea."
Seol answered.
"Any recent grudges?"
"Nothing... that we know of."
"What martial arts did the assassins use? Weapons? Oh, right, you haven't seen Yeom Seoksan's body yet?"
Seol snapped her head up and glared at the man. Her earlier fear was gone without a trace.
"You're a real heartless bastard, aren't you?"
He answered her flashing eyes with a sneer.
"Cut the crap. What, you think I'm his secret son or something? Heartless? What blood would I shed for him, or tears to cry?"
"......!"
"Still, if it's a hit on the Flame Jade Merchant Guild, it's no small matter. And these black-hearted goons don't look like your run-of-the-mill punks. Can't be helped. Consider the commission accepted."
"C-Commission?"
"You asked for protection, didn't you?"
Sang's brows furrowed deeply. He glanced at Seol and Hyang, then back at the man. With displeasure and caution mingling in his voice, and his scowl unchanged, he asked.
"You're... an escort?"
"Does this look like an escort agency to you?"
"Then, a wanderer?"
"Wanderer...? Nah."
The man smirked, tilted his head, and added.
"Well, you could say it's similar for now."
Sang couldn't hide his discomfort.
He couldn't imagine a figure like Yeom Seoksan entrusting his daughters' safety to some random wanderer.
"If you're a wanderer... the pay..."
"You're quick on that. Of course there's pay."
"How much... do you want?"
"Hmm. Well, negotiations aren't my department. We'll talk about that later."
The man looked up at the night sky once more. The darkness thickened. Night deepened.
He lowered his head. Out of the blue, he said.
"Fire starter."
"......?!"
"Got none?"
Seol shook her head vigorously.
"Wait."
The man spun on his heel and headed into his quarters. Rustling and clattering came from inside. He emerged from behind the curtain, a thin iron skewer wrapped with paper at one end in hand.
He held the paper end to a candle flame. Whoosh—the fire caught eagerly. Looked like it had been oiled.
The man wove the skewer through the flickering candles, relighting the extinguished ones. Watching him, Seol noticed one more change. No—more precisely, the swords. He now carried two more strapped to his back.
*What kind of guy carries three swords...*
A blood-red scabbard caught the eye first. The other gleamed so brightly it almost looked childish, golden. Added to the black-and-white one he'd wielded, that made three.
The man finished relighting the candles and turned. The room brightened a touch. He stared off into some distant darkness and said.
"Clean up the bodies."
No reply came. Instead, presences that hadn't been there before suddenly filled the surroundings like magic.
Sang's face hardened further.
The man wasn't alone. An organized group of martial artists was with him.
The man glanced at the darkness where the presences emerged, then strode toward the group. You could sense something massive lurking behind him.
"Follow."
The words he tossed over his shoulder as he approached. Then he passed right by them.
"What do we do? Just follow?"
Seol whispered to Sang.
A sharp glint flashed in Sang's eyes. He nodded gravely and replied.
"No choice. We follow for now."
The man moved fast.
The two scabbards slung crosswise on his back sank into the darkness. Yet he never once looked back.
He already knew they had no choice but to follow.
The three set off after the man's fading silhouette.
Even the moonlight hid behind clouds. Darkness swallowed their bodies like fog.
* * *
Peach Blossom Haven.
A beautiful name.
But not everything lives up to its name. Especially not a place like this tavern—the gap only widens.
Peach Blossom Haven was no exception.
What went on inside the Peach Blossom Haven tavern was anything but pretty.
Thwack! Thwack!
The sound of tiles slapping the table.
"Yah! Mine this time!"
"Wahahaha. Doubt it!"
"Upper tile. Think you can beat that?"
"Huh!? Why'd it go to you?!"
Rowdy clamor filled the vast room. Amid the musky scent of aphrodisiac incense swirling about, crowds gathered in clusters, eyes ablaze. Men slamming down tiles and dice mingled with women shrieking in delight or dismay. Mostly heavy-makeup courtesans. A den where intoxication, desire, ambition, and despair swirled together.
"You! What the hell?!"
"Huh?"
"You hid it in your sleeve!!"
"What's wrong with this?"
"Hand it over, you bastard!"
"Where do you get off grabbing me?!"
"Eek!"
The man shot to his feet and drew a dagger from his belt. Blades flashed in an instant.
"Eek!"
"Ugh!"
"Someone stop him! He's gonna kill!"
This happened every day.
The muscle to break it up was already in place. Big bruisers from the corners and entrance rushed in, pounding the rabble-rouser flat.
As if nothing happened, tiles and silver littered the tables again. The courtesans who'd screamed bloody murder now feared nothing. All they saw were the tiles in hand. Heads filled with vain hopes of striking it rich today.
Waaah! Ooooh!!
In the midst of it, one table drew the biggest crowd.
Not four players cycling tiles, but a one-on-one showdown. A young man and a middle-aged one sat cross-legged across a broad black-clothed table. At the young man's side clung a fresh-faced woman who looked utterly out of place, hugging his arm.
Clack.
The young man played a tile.
Ooooh!
Cheers erupted around them.
"Oh my! You won again?"
Her voice was girlish. Excited.
"Yeah."
The young man replied, pressing one hand to his side. He seemed uncomfortable, twisting his waist and rubbing it nonstop.
The young man was Cheonwi.