Chronicles of the Northern Heavens Chapter 174 - Hwangtae Who Chased All the Way to Baekya-beol
"Drinking in a warrior's tavern?"
"Yes. He's been sitting there glued to his seat for half a shichen already, downing drinks. Word must have spread that he's there, because warriors from within the cartel are swarming like clouds."
Wang-jeok's brow furrowed deeply once more.
The reporter continued. "And we checked with his contacts inside the cartel. The only person Yeon-hoo met after entering was the Great Earth Sovereign himself. Of course, they say it was just a formal greeting."
"Didn't I tell you to have the Intelligence Division head arrange a meeting? There might be things we don't know!"
"Well... we passed on the message, but he said he couldn't make time right now."
"Even after I said I'd meet him personally?"
"Yes."
"Insolent bastard... Looks like he's already forgotten who put him in that position. But what the hell does Yeon-hoo have to be so damn carefree?"
Wang-jeok was a man of endless thoughts. He never let even the smallest detail slide, and he'd sparked needless trouble by overreacting to offhand remarks more than once. This tendency had worsened since his son's death, to the point where he now meddled in nearly every operation, exhausting his close aides. Of course, that same trait had built his colossal fortune today.
"He might just be bluffing, so don't worry too much. The Elder Council Chairman is on our side anyway—won't things turn out as the Division Head wants?"
"True, but..."
His subordinate's words made sense. Still, Wang-jeok felt uneasy for some reason.
From slapping a single bodyguard on the first day to now, Yeon-hoo's actions were anything but ordinary—no matter how bold the man. Especially inside Baekya-beol.
"Even a stone bridge needs tapping before crossing. No matter how favorable our position, we can't afford a single gap."
Wang-jeok's eyes flashed as he turned to his subordinate. "Go to the nearest branch right now and fetch ten bills worth a hundred thousand nyang each. No one turns down money in this world—we need to grease the palms of the Judiciary Hall in advance to seal the trial's outcome."
"We've already bribed them plenty—"
"Watch your mouth! Bribe?"
"...My apologies!"
"What are you dawdling for? Move!"
"It's too late; the branches will be closed. I'll go at first light tomorrow."
"You idiot! Who cares about hours when it's our money?"
"Ah... Yes. I'll head out right away."
Wang-jeok watched his subordinate's hasty retreat, rubbing his brow. If not for Big Sis, I'd have cut that fool loose long ago.
Gulp, gulp!
He drained a bowl of cold water in one go, then strode to the window and flung it open. Lifting his gaze, he stared toward the warrior's inn. Towering halls blocked the full view, but the throng of warriors around it was unmistakable.
Wang-jeok's eyes grew heavy— a rare gravity for him.
Rumors of that bastard are spreading like wildfire across the land. Warriors everywhere are starting to gaze in awe at his achievements. For revenge's sake alone, I can't let him grow into a real threat.
Clench!
Soon you'll learn the Golden Merchant Group's true power isn't just money. When that day comes, you'll weep blood regretting you crossed me, Yeon-hoo.
"Division Head, a guest has arrived."
At the voice from beyond the door, Wang-jeok schooled his expression. He slipped back into his usual brusque, arrogant self.
"Bring him in."
A figure in yellow robes entered. Without them, he might have passed for a skeleton—gaunt to the bone. Yet the aura he exuded was chillingly ominous. He was from the Blood Clan, stationed in Baekya-beol.
He gave Wang-jeok a slight bow. "It's been a while."
"Indeed. What brings you?"
"I have a message."
"Then sit and speak."
The yellow-robed man took the seat opposite. Wang-jeok leaned back arrogantly, eyes half-lidded as he stared. He always amped up his bravado around Blood Clan folk.
The man ignored it and spoke plainly. "First, I need to confirm something."
"Out with it."
"Did you dispatch assassins to kill Yeon-hoo?"
The blunt question soured Wang-jeok's face; he didn't answer.
"Our lord conveys this: Withdraw the assassins immediately. Do nothing on Yeon-hoo's path back."
Twitch.
"What?"
"One of ours has stepped forward. He'll surely take Yeon-hoo's head, so our lord wants any potential interference eliminated beforehand."
"Do you know what kind of killers I sent?"
"I merely relay our lord's will. But to warn you in advance... this man from our side kills even allies without hesitation if they hinder him. Our lord worries only that the Golden Merchant Group might suffer losses."
"So, back off if you don't want to get hurt?"
"As I said, I only relay his will. I'll take my leave."
Wang-jeok watched silently as the man rose and approached the door. Just as his hand grasped the latch, he spoke.
"The northern bastards have cost our cartel dearly lately. Five branches in the Northwest Murim—tens of millions of nyang gone to their hands. Know what that means?"
"Enlighten me, Division Head."
"If losses mount further, it'll be hard to keep supporting you lot. When you reach the family head, tell him this: Wang-jeok's concerns for the Blood Clan are deepening by the day."
"I'll pass it on. Farewell."
As the door shut behind the yellow robe, Wang-jeok's face finally flushed crimson.
Bam!
"Pull my funding and withhold support—think those punks could hold their position? Hah! Dream on!"
* * *
An inn positioned for a clear view of Baekya-beol's gates. There sat Hwangtae.
He'd ended his seclusion for his brother's vengeance, pursued Yeon-hoo to this place after he vanished before his eyes. His only chance now: strike when Yeon-hoo departed for home.
Hwangtae had ordered drinks and food but touched neither chopsticks nor cup. The server eyed him oddly but couldn't approach, blocked by those seated around him.
Hwangtae stared fixedly at the gates, unmoving. None around him dared speak to him.
They were Blood Clan elites, positioned ahead from the secondary route to ambush Yeon-hoo.
How much time passed?
A man in green robes entered the inn. He bowed before Hwangtae.
"As expected, Yeon-hoo entered the cartel in perfect health. We've also requested the Golden Merchant Group withdraw their assassins targeting him."
"How do I get inside?"
"Replace one of our men stationed there... but the procedures are said to be extremely strict."
"Contact them. Tell them I'm coming in."
"Isn't targeting him inside the cartel too risky?"
"Don't make me repeat myself."
"...Understood. I'll relay the order at once."
Hwangtae watched his subordinate bow and exit, his gaze settling heavily. No one will expect an ambush inside the cartel. Once in, the odds of taking his head are far higher than out here.
It was the plan he'd hatched while ignoring his untouched meal.
Then—a man entered the inn. Wang-jeok's nephew, sent to fetch the bills.
Hwangtae glanced at him, then returned to the gates.
Moments later, another entered: Cheol-u, disguised with a human-skin mask. He took a table behind the nephew.
The nephew was ordering from the server. "One bottle of Geumjoncheong, a plate of braised pork, and a boiled chicken."
"Yes, sir. One moment."
The server approached Cheol-u. "A bowl of beef noodle soup. Not too soft."
"...Pardon?"
The server's face twisted. Cheol-u ignored him; cursing inwardly, he retreated.
"Making me fetch every damn side dish. Unbelievable. Damn it all!"
Cheol-u impassively watched the grumbling nephew, then slowly scanned the inn.
His previously blank eyes sharpened at Hwangtae and his companions.
Assassins...
Instinct screamed it. Hwangtae especially gave an unfamiliar chill.
Cheol-u suspected Blood Clan or Golden Merchant Group killers targeting Yeon-hoo, given Hwangtae's fixation on the gates.
He observed them briefly, then turned away.
Hwangtae glanced back at that instant, but Cheol-u's face was already hidden.
Soon, Cheol-u's beef noodles arrived. He frowned inwardly. To sync with his meal, I should've ordered more...
He called the retreating server. "Wait."
"Yes?"
"A plate of braised pork too. And a bottle of Geumjoncheong."
"Right away!"
The server's chicken-stare vanished, face blooming with smiles.
The nephew snapped at him. "I ordered first—why serve him?"
"Ah... Noodles come quickest. Yours is coming right up."
"Hurry it!"
"Yes, yes."
As the server fled, the nephew glared at Cheol-u, then whipped his head away irritably.
Rumble!
Thunder echoed softly. Fine rain began to fall. The sky had been clear moments ago.
"Damn it all. Two shichen run to the branch, and I'll be soaked. What's the rush, making me suffer like this? Tch!"
The nephew vented nonstop, but quieted as his drinks and food arrived.
Cheol-u's table gained its pork and liquor too. He poured a cup and matched the nephew's pace.
About a shichen later—
Rumble! Crack!
Fierce thunder crashed as a group of green-robed men stormed the inn.
Cheol-u's eyes instinctively scanned them head to toe.
More assassins...
This time, certainty hit. Their auras were stronger than Hwangtae's group—but weaker overall.
To non-experts like Cheol-u, they were imperceptible.
Splash, splash! Water dripped from their soaked path.
They sat, and steam rose instantly—drying clothes with inner power.
Desperate to show off their strength.
Cheol-u smirked faintly, popping pork into his mouth.
Then—
"That's the bastard!"
A rough shout erupted. The green robes leaped up, swords drawn in unison.
Shing, shing!
Cheol-u set down his half-eaten pork, turning.
Hwangtae's companions rose slowly.
"No doubt—it's him! I saw him butcher our comrades with my own eyes!"
A green robe jabbed at Hwangtae, yelling again.
Cheol-u's eyes gleamed—a spark of intense interest.
Daring to spill blood with Baekya-beol right in front of them?