Chapter 559: Wind Cloud Ghost Thief (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 559: Wind Cloud Ghost Thief (4)
On the final day the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief was prophesied to appear.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, a presence stirred near the peaks of Wudang.
Rustle!
Someone was moving stealthily through the undergrowth.
Clad head to toe in black and wearing a dark mask, the figure moved with startling speed. Yet, there was a subtle sense of urgency in their movements, a frantic edge to their haste.
Thud!
After a long sprint, the figure reached their destination, dropping silently to the ground to remain hidden.
Before them stood a small residence. Taoists of the Wudang Sect stood guard around it, their eyes sharp as they scanned the perimeter.
The figure’s eyes gleamed at the sight.
This was it. This was the objective.
‘The treasure’s location.’
The place where the combined treasures of Mount Hua and Wudang were being kept.
Tomorrow, the five-day period would end, and the treasures would be returned to their respective sects as they went their separate ways. This temporary storage was a final security measure, just in case.
The figure shifted their gaze, focusing on one specific guard.
Among the sentries was a woman of striking beauty. She wore a crisp, white uniform that stood out sharply against the light blue robes of the Wudang disciples.
She was the Plum Blossom Sword Queen, Soi—the current Sword Queen.
She was personally standing guard to ensure the safety of Mount Hua’s treasure.
The figure bit their lip, tension mounting.
‘One more hour.’
In exactly one hour, the Sword Queen would leave her post. It would only be for a fleeting moment, but for the figure, that window was more than enough.
Time crawled by.
The figure held their breath, counting every second until exactly one hour had passed.
The Sword Queen, who had been as still as a statue, finally moved.
This was the moment. She would be gone for only a few seconds at most. The opportunity was now or never.
Wiping away a bead of cold sweat, the figure began to circulate their Taoist Qi. All they had to do was rush in and snatch the treasure. That was it.
Everything was for the sake of Wudang.
Just as the figure prepared to lung forward—
“Hello there.”
A voice whispered directly into their ear.
Squeeze!
“Ghk…!?”
A hand clamped around their throat, and the world suddenly spun.
There was no time to process what was happening. Their vision blurred into a streak of colors as a violent gust of wind whipped against their body.
The figure tried to struggle, to react, but then the realization hit them. The gale screaming past them was the sheer atmospheric pressure of being moved at an impossible speed.
How fast are we going?
Terror flashed through their mind, but it was short-lived.
Thud!
The wind died instantly. The figure was hurled through the air, tumbling across the hard ground.
I have to get up.
Survival instinct screamed at them to move, but before they could—
Stomp!
A foot slammed down onto their chest, pinning them to the earth.
“Gah!”
A pained groan escaped their lips as the air was forced out of their lungs. They looked up at the person standing over them.
“By any chance...”
The owner of the foot spoke. The figure winced as they tried to flinch; the movement sent white-hot agony through their chest and their already injured shoulder.
“Did you not remember what I said? That’s a little disappointing.”
The man was smiling, but his voice carried a dry, razor-sharp edge. He was the last person the figure expected to see.
Shaaa—!
The moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the man hidden in the shadows.
His hair held a faint blue sheen under the lunar light. His face was fierce, and his eyes—which had been a deep red only that morning—now glowed with a brilliant, piercing blue light.
“I told you,” Gu Yangcheon said. “I told you that you’d die if you drew your sword. Did you think I’d forgotten?”
The words rang with terrifying familiarity. They were the exact words spoken in the barracks earlier that day.
The figure beneath his boot was none other than the second-generation disciple of the Wudang Sect: the Righteous Sword, Jicheol.
“…How… How are you…?” Jicheol wheezed.
The situation was incomprehensible. How was this man here? He was supposed to be in his guest residence, under the constant, watchful eyes of Wudang.
Sensing Jicheol’s confusion, Gu Yangcheon’s smile widened slightly. He eased the pressure on Jicheol’s chest, allowing him to breathe.
“Haa… Hah…”
As Jicheol gasped for air, Gu Yangcheon tilted his head. “You look so surprised. Is it really that strange for me to be here?”
Jicheol’s hand blurred toward his waist. He reached for his sword, but—
“…!”
His fingers grasped empty air. The scabbard was gone.
“Looking for this?”
Gu Yangcheon dangled the weapon in front of Jicheol’s face.
“A swordsman shouldn't be so careless with his blade.”
“…When did you—!”
Wham!
“Keok!”
A kick to the ribs sent Jicheol rolling across the dirt. He scrambled to find his footing, his mind racing in circles.
What is happening?
He couldn't understand the pain, nor could he fathom Gu Yangcheon’s presence.
‘How…? How is he here? He should be… under the watch of the disciples…’
“In my residence, right?”
“…!”
As if reading his mind, Gu Yangcheon stepped closer. “But you see, I can’t stand being cooped up. So, I decided to go for a little night walk.”
He said it casually, but it was impossible. The Wudang disciples would never have allowed him to leave.
Gu Yangcheon continued as if he didn't have a care in the world. “And as I was taking my leisurely stroll, what do you know? I happened to spot our dear Taoist Master passing by.”
“...”
“You don’t seem like the type to go for a walk like me. What business brings you out in such… secretive attire?”
Jicheol’s mind whirred, searching for an excuse. “I had business over there, so I was just… Gack!?”
Squeeze!
Gu Yangcheon’s hand snapped back around Jicheol’s throat.
“Wrong answer. In this conversation, I’m the only one who gets to lie.”
“Grk… Guh…”
“Ah, but that seems a little unfair. So, I’ll tell you a bit about what you’re so curious about.”
Gu Yangcheon held up his wrist.
“I left the Suspicion-linking Thread behind. It’s a rather troublesome little item.”
Jicheol’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
He left it behind? That was impossible. If the thread was removed or left behind, the signal should have alerted everyone.
Gu Yangcheon smirked at the reaction. “It’s a pretty interesting item. It lets you check the wearer’s status, right?”
It was an item designed to monitor a unit’s condition during demon hunts or high-stakes missions. That was how Woobaek had explained it.
“But he didn’t explain the most important part, did he?”
“…Ghk…”
“This thing… it sends a signal if it’s broken, doesn’t it?”
“…!”
“Right?”
Jicheol’s heart hammered against his ribs. He was right. The Suspicion-linking Thread was meant to monitor status, but it was also designed to alert a captain-level figure if the connection was tampered with. The range was limited, but within the confines of Wudang, it was a perfect tracking and alarm system.
How did this man know? And more importantly…
‘How on earth did he get out without triggering it?’
Gu Yangcheon found the questions written on Jicheol’s face amusing.
“Once I realized that, you know, I started to feel like something was off.”
The "fishy smell" he had sensed during the day—Gu Yangcheon had spent a long time contemplating its source. Finally, he had figured it out.
“Your reactions. It was like… you were watching us, but you weren't doing the important part.”
“Ghk…”
“Not a single person. None of you actually suspected us.”
Jicheol froze as the weight of the statement hit him.
“Isn’t it strange? The Wind Cloud Ghost Thief appears for the first time in decades to steal Wudang’s treasure. Yet, while you’re wary of outsiders, you don’t actually suspect them.”
At first, Gu Yangcheon thought the threads were to prevent them from being confused with the thief. He assumed there was a monitoring element as well. But his intuition—an intuition that had never failed him—told him something was rotten.
‘I never even heard of the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief reappearing in my past life.’
He had wondered if his own interference had changed the timeline, but the feeling of a trap was too strong.
“Then, suddenly,” Gu Yangcheon said, “I felt like I knew the truth.”
However, he hadn't been certain. And when Gu Yangcheon wasn't certain, he used a very simple method to find out.
“So I figured I should just ask, you know?”
Ask what was going on. Kindly. Gently.
He had already given a ‘gift’ to a certain someone earlier to facilitate this conversation. But then, he saw Jicheol moving.
“Something felt off.”
Jicheol was moving at high speed in the dead of night. It wasn't training, and he wasn't chasing anyone. He was taking a bizarre, convoluted path.
“He was trying to mask his presence.”
“Ghk…!”
“That couldn't have been easy for a man in your condition.”
One of Jicheol’s shoulders was shattered, and he had been further injured that day. Even for a master of his level, moving like that in the middle of the night was suspicious.
Jicheol’s body trembled violently.
“So, I wanted to ask,” Gu Yangcheon said.
Catching him hadn't been difficult. When Gu Yangcheon had crushed the man’s shoulder earlier, he had planted a trace of his own Qi inside him—a beacon he would never lose track of.
Wriggle.
“Gaaah…!?”
Jicheol felt something squirming deep inside his body. Near his Dantian, an unknown force was slowly coiling.
Gu Yangcheon’s blue eyes flared with power. His presence expanded, heavy and suffocating, completely overwhelming Jicheol’s senses. He loosened his grip on the man’s throat just enough for him to speak.
“Hey.”
Gu Yangcheon leaned in close.
“Are you the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief?”
“...!”
Jicheol’s heart dropped.
“Or,” Gu Yangcheon continued, “are you just playing the role of the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief?”
Tremble, tremble, tremble.
Jicheol shook uncontrollably. He bit his lip, vowing to stay silent. No matter the fear, no matter the torture, he could not reveal the truth.
“Answer me.”
“…That is… correct…”
The words tumbled out of Jicheol’s mouth against his will. His eyes widened in horror; his body was no longer his own.
“Good.”
Gu Yangcheon smiled, the expression full of dark satisfaction. He had found the answer to the riddle. He let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
“What a relief.”
Truly, a relief.
“Wudang is even more idiotic than I thought.”
This was a situation he could use. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.
* * *
The next morning.
On the rear mountain of Wudang, the second-generation disciple known as the Righteous Sword, Jicheol, was found dead.
From the evidence at the scene, it appeared he had taken his own life by slitting his own throat. A suicide note lay on the ground beside him.
Just as the letter from five days ago had foretold, the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief had successfully stolen the treasure.
However, for some inexplicable reason, the thief had left the Mount Hua treasure untouched, vanishing only with the treasure of Wudang.
The Wudang Sect was thrown into a state of total, panicked uproar.