Benefactor of the Dang Clan
With his arm severed, Yun Il-hae had lost all will to fight, and as for Dang Ji-sang, the ordinary man in the middle of it all, there was nothing left to say. The atmosphere was thoroughly under control.
"I didn't plan to take it this far," Han Yuhyeon said. "But you lot looked down on me first, so this is how it turned out."
Truthfully, he had never intended to blow the fight this wide open. Jin Myeong-un and Yun Il-hae, however, had sized him up, decided he was nothing special, and turned uncooperative—and that was how things had escalated.
Of course, Han Yuhyeon had started by writing them off as mere Pesu himself, but in a mind specialized in rationalizing, that particular memory had already been scrubbed clean.
"What is it you want?"
Yun Il-hae might have found it absurd that the man playing the victim was making demands—but a loser had no right to talk back. He could only lower himself.
"There we go. If you'd come out like that from the start, how much better would this have been?"
"…"
"You know someone named Yong Yu-tak?"
Yong Yu-tak was the name the wandering NPC in So-ui-ju used whenever he pretended to be a cultivator.
"What cultivator from So-ui-ju wouldn't know that name?"
Fortunately, Yong Yu-tak was still strutting around as usual. Then again, there was hardly a cultivator in So-ui-ju capable of harming a Dragonian like him, so it made sense.
If Yun Il-hae hadn't known Yong Yu-tak, Jin Myeong-un's death would have been completely pointless. Now, at least, it had meaning. With that, even Jin Myeong-un could rest easy in the afterlife—or so Han Yuhyeon eulogized him.
"Any idea what he's been up to lately?"
"I heard he got into a dispute with an inner disciple of the Songin Sect, killed him, and took refuge as a guest of the Mogang-pa. Of course, that senior has always wandered on his own, so I couldn't say exactly where he is now."
"Oh. For a Pesu, you're surprisingly up to date on cultivator circles."
"It isn't as if we've completely cut our ties with the cultivation world."
"Right—that's how you make a living off human trafficking. Real parasites, the pair of you."
Under Han Yuhyeon's merciless barbs, Yun Il-hae bowed his head. It wasn't guilt over the trafficking that made him do it. It was pure humiliation—losing a fight and taking this kind of abuse from a junior.
"Is that why you summoned us?"
"Yeah."
"If it was only this, I would have answered from the start."
Yun Il-hae looked toward the spot where Jin Myeong-un had died, regret dripping from his gaze. Considering a cultivator's lifespan, the two of them had probably known each other for decades at least. Han Yuhyeon only shrugged.
"Didn't know that. Shame."
"…"
"And be honest—if some cultivator from Yeongil-ju asked for information, would you two have handed it over for free?"
Jin Myeong-un and Yun Il-hae had looked down on him from the beginning, so there was nothing wrong with what he said. Even so, Yun Il-hae whined, unable to let it go.
"If you'd just shown a little goodwill—a few low-grade spiritual stones—it never would have come to this catastrophe."
"Why should I show you goodwill?"
"You're not wrong. I'm only saying it's a pity. That my friend died over such a small gesture."
"So? You want me to feel guilty?"
"…My apologies."
Yun Il-hae shut his mouth. In the cultivation world, a loser had nothing to say. He had simply spent too long in the lower realm and picked up a thin veneer of human sentiment—enough to try appealing to it.
"Anyway. Thanks for the info."
"May I go, then?"
"You still need to show some sincerity before you leave."
Yun Il-hae's face twisted.
Dang Ji-sang looked completely lost, unable to follow the cultivators' conversation. Yun Il-hae had just given him information—and now he had to show sincerity on top of that? Yun Il-hae, however, understood at once.
If you picked a fight with a cultivator and lost, you owed a price. That was how it worked.
"Here."
With a sour expression, Yun Il-hae pulled spiritual stones from his storage pouch and held them out. Han Yuhyeon reached as if to take them—and drew the Blood Shadow Nine Nights Sword instead. A diagonal line of blood bloomed from Yun Il-hae's shoulder to his waist, and a moment later he split cleanly in two.
"Hup!"
Dang Ji-sang clapped a hand over his mouth from behind, never having imagined the man would kill without the slightest pause.
Han Yuhyeon picked up the pouch of spiritual stones Yun Il-hae had dropped and opened it. Ten low-grade stones.
"See? I figured the sincerity would be lacking. That's why I killed him first. If you hustle, you might still catch up and be hell classmates with your friend. He only died a little while ago—he's probably still on the way."
Unlike the horrified Dang Ji-sang, the dead man himself looked almost at peace, as if he had already known. When a Pesu in the lower realm picked a fight with a cultivator from the upper circles and lost, this was simply how it went.
He was a lower-realm cultivator with no backing for revenge, and he had killed a close acquaintance, leaving a seed of future vengeance. On top of that, they had been human traffickers. Han Yuhyeon had no reason to spare either of them.
Even when blood stained the Blood Shadow Nine Nights Sword, the blade absorbed it on its own—no wiping required. Nice. Han Yuhyeon sheathed the now-clean sword and turned his head toward Dang Ji-sang.
"Alright. Let's finish our conversation. What was it you said earlier? That if you cut off my head and boiled it into a spicy stew, it would taste nice and sharp? What do you think your head would taste like?"
"I-I-I'm sorry! I failed to recognize a cultivator from the heavens and committed a capital offense!"
Dang Ji-sang flung himself flat onto the ground with a wet slap and howled.
"You really lucked out the wrong way. You even picked the wrong side of a fifty-fifty."
"If you spare me, I'll give you everything! Please, just spare my life!"
Thud. Thud. Dang Ji-sang's forehead smashed into the dirt again and again. He was so drowned in terror that even as his forehead split open and blood poured freely, he seemed to feel no pain at all.
"Is there anything you own that I'd actually want? Doesn't seem like it. If there were, the cultivators would have taken it already."
Dang Ji-sang's blood-soaked face worked frantically, eyes darting. But no amount of thinking could invent something that didn't exist. When his mouth only worked without producing an answer, Han Yuhyeon drew the Blood Shadow Nine Nights Sword again.
"Well. Shame."
"No! There is something!"
Light flashed in Dang Ji-sang's eyes. That was how a man's gaze changed when he truly wanted to live.
"Oh? What?"
Han Yuhyeon wasn't expecting much, but he asked anyway. Dang Ji-sang shouted,
"Isn't our Ga-hye rather exceptional in beauty? I'll give you Ga-hye!"
"The Dang Clan Head? Are you serious? Is the clan head yours to give away?"
"If a cultivator from the upper realm takes her—not some lower-realm cultivator—even the Elder Council will have nothing to say. I'll make sure of it!"
Watching this bastard offer up his own niece as if it were some solemn political pledge, Han Yuhyeon clicked his tongue.
"Hey. Give me your wrist."
"What? Ah—y-yes!"
Dang Ji-sang thrust out his wrist at once. Han Yuhyeon took his pulse, then shook his head again.
"If I may ask… for what reason…?"
"The way you talk, you looked like you had enough potential to become a cultivator. I checked whether you had a spiritual root."
"D-do I?"
Dang Ji-sang's face flushed with excitement. Occasionally a cultivator from the upper circles took a mortal from the lower realm as a disciple if they possessed a spiritual root. Knowing cultivators as he did, Dang Ji-sang had clearly thought of those cases.
"Nope. You've got more than enough of a character spiritual root—just none of the Five Elements root that actually matters."
"Aaaah…"
At Han Yuhyeon's blunt appraisal, Dang Ji-sang collapsed into despair. Looking at him, Han Yuhyeon said, half exasperated,
"Counting your chickens—no, your hot pot—before they hatch. Even if a piece of trash like you had a spiritual root, I wouldn't have taken you as a disciple."
"…"
Besides, Han Yuhyeon was in no position to take disciples right now. He had only checked out of curiosity.
"You're not a cultivator, so hell isn't guaranteed—but looking at how you act, I figure that's where you're headed."
Clicking his tongue, Han Yuhyeon slowly drew the Blood Shadow Nine Nights Sword. Leaving a man like this alive was pure harm. Then the kneeling Dang Ji-sang suddenly sprang up.
"Die!"
Eyes bloodshot, Dang Ji-sang screamed and flung hidden weapons and toxic sand from his sleeves.
He knew cultivators well enough. He understood Han Yuhyeon would never spare him no matter what he did, so he was making one last desperate thrash.
"Why? Come on. Let's go quietly."
Of course, at the eighth star of Qi Condensation, Han Yuhyeon wasn't going to take damage from any surprise attack a mortal could throw. The weapons and toxins pouring from the sleeves struck the spiritual energy he released and clattered harmlessly to the ground.
Dang Ji-sang hadn't really expected the ambush to work either. He immediately yanked a short blade from his waist and lunged. The cold blue gleam on it said he had poured every scrap of his internal energy into the strike.
The flying blade moved so fast it left five afterimages in an instant.
"This is the Tang Soul Art—the soul of the Dang Clan, passed down for hundreds of years—!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake!"
Han Yuhyeon had had enough. Ignoring blade paths and everything else, he stepped forward and backhanded Dang Ji-sang across the face.
Crack.
A cultivator's slap was more than a mortal could take. He hadn't even thought he hit that hard, yet the neck spun a full hundred and eighty degrees—Han Yuhyeon found himself looking at the back of Dang Ji-sang's head.
From far off, a shrill scream rang out.
"Uncle!"
In the distance, Dang Ga-hye and the Dang Clan's martial artists were racing toward them. Right—this was a reception hall inside the Sichuan Dang Clan estate. With a disturbance this large, of course the warriors wouldn't stay put.
Watching Dang Ga-hye sprint barefoot out of worry for the worthless uncle who had tried to sell her, a wave of pity rose unbidden.
"You villain! Get away from my uncle!"
Dang Ga-hye shouted. Han Yuhyeon raised both hands and stepped back. She caught hold of Dang Ji-sang, who was still standing with his neck twisted the wrong way, already dead.
"Uncle, Uncle! Are you all right?"
"Clan Head. Stop staring at his face and look at the body."
Han Yuhyeon offered the advice from a few paces away. Dang Ga-hye soon saw the back of the man beneath Dang Ji-sang's chin, yelped in shock, and flung the corpse away.
"Kyaa!"
The neck had twisted so cleanly she only realized it when she saw the back. Dang Ji-sang's body with its broken neck tumbled across the sand.
"You're a bit of a fool, but a good kid. There's something I found out. Your father—old man Dang? This bastard sold him to cultivators."
"Huh?"
For a moment Dang Ga-hye's face went blank. For someone a little dim, she was a sharp-featured beauty, so the look had never quite fit—until now. Now it suited her perfectly.
"H-how dare you slander my uncle!"
Barely recovering her composure, Dang Ga-hye stammered in a trembling voice. Then she looked around and shouted,
"Poison Soul Unit! Form the formation!"
"Enough, Ga-hye. Do you mean to bring ruin down on the entire Dang Clan?"
An aged voice rolled out from among the Dang Clan warriors. The Poison Soul Unit parted, and an old woman leaning on a cane stepped forward.
"You are a cultivator from the upper realm, I see."
Watching a grandmother far older than Han Yuhyeon himself hand her cane to a nearby warrior and bow was an unfamiliar sight. Yet she showed no discomfort at all, as if she knew exactly what a cultivator was.
"And you are?"
"I am Dang Sa-hui, head of the Dang Clan's Elder Council."
"Oho. And what's your relation to this piece of trash?"
Han Yuhyeon jerked his chin toward Dang Ji-sang, who lay staring up at the sky with his back. Even while bowing, Dang Sa-hui lowered her head further.
"I am his great-aunt."
"I see. Well, here's the problem—I already killed him."
"I was already aware that Ji-sang had colluded with lower-realm cultivators and was selling members of our clan. On the contrary, since you have soiled your hands on the Dang Clan's behalf, it would be proper to call you our benefactor."
At Dang Sa-hui's matter-of-fact words, confusion flooded Dang Ga-hye's eyes. Han Yuhyeon whistled, intrigued.
"You knew?"
"Yes. I did. Shall we speak inside?"
Dang Sa-hui invited him with full courtesy. Han Yuhyeon hesitated a little. The Dang Clan's story sounded interesting enough, but time already felt tight if he meant to track down Yong Yu-tak right away.
"Naturally, our Dang Clan will make certain our benefactor does not leave unsatisfied."
"Mm. Even so, you're a mortal clan. Is there anything that would actually be useful to me?"
"Though we are but a humble family of the lower realm, we have reigned as the overlords of Sichuan for several hundred years and have a history of dealings with cultivators. We still possess certain precious items received as tokens of those exchanges."
Precious items from cultivators—those would be what the cultivation world called dharma treasures. That was more than enough to spare a little time. Han Yuhyeon executed a seamless about-face.
"Ahem. Right, right. Then I'll look forward to it."
"As you wish. Please, this way, Cultivator. I am Dang Sa-hui, head of the Dang Clan's Elder Council. I greet the benefactor of the Dang Clan."
Even with Dang Ji-sang's corpse and its twisted head lying right beside them, Dang Sa-hui rose as if nothing had happened and offered another formal bow.
He had only killed a piece of trash—and somehow, just like that, he had become the benefactor of the Dang Clan.