Lying on Brushwood, Tasting Gall (5)
“Still no word?”
“Y-yes, that's right.”
Hwa Won scowled openly.
Did something go wrong?
The reporting interval for Hwa Won Corps was a minimum of half a shichen, never exceeding a full one. It wasn't just Hwa Won Corps, either. All units under the Twelve Branches Gods operated the same way.
The reports came excessively often, but there was no choice. Muk Ryong Bu had yet to reveal itself to the world—caution upon caution was never too much.
That was why they burned through money and manpower to keep the reporting cycles short.
Yet here it was, half a day gone with no contact past a full shichen?
Did they get taken out by the enemy?
It was unbelievable. Of course, Heuk Yang Corps might have been stronger than expected. Hwa Won's squad could have been overwhelmed without a fight.
Even so, a report should have come through. Unless the entire squad had been wiped out in one spot, this shouldn't have happened.
“Fine. You'll go track down that squad's trail yourself...”
That was when it happened.
“Gasp! F-Fire Monkey! Look there!”
Hwa Won whipped her head around.
That guy?
A young man was strolling down the narrow path leading to the manor. Over six chi tall. His build wasn't particularly sturdy, but his bamboo-straight posture radiated the unyielding stubbornness of a rigid scholar.
It was Yeon Hojeong.
Having changed into fresh robes and shouldered a hefty bundle, he had finally returned.
Hwa Won moved.
Whoosh!
Leaping across several rooftops and descending to the ground in an instant, her lightness skill was a sight straight out of legend.
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
“Monkey-like agility.”
Killing intent flared in Hwa Won's eyes.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“None of your business. Move. I'm tired.”
“Report immediately.”
“I never had a boss like you. Don't get in my way—scram.”
His tone was brutally coarse.
Hwa Won laughed coldly.
“Guess the deputy didn't tell you. I'm your...”
“Bodyguard. If you're a bodyguard, do your job and guard the manor properly. Don't piss off your charge.”
“...”
“No friendship between us, so I'll let this slide once. Mouth off like that again, and I'll gouge your eyes out.”
Hiss.
Vicious killing intent poured from Won Gak, Hwa Won's top subordinate standing behind her.
The Twelve Branches Gods under Yang Cheon were top-tier experts in Muk Ryong Bu, holding positions befitting their prowess. They weren't the type to take that kind of lip from some unknown punk.
Yeon Hojeong's smile deepened.
“Loyal subordinate you've got.”
Hwa Won, who had been glaring silently, raised her hand.
Won Gak suppressed his killing intent with effort.
Fury boiled inside him, but he couldn't defy his lord's command.
Hwa Won asked, “What's in the bundle?”
“Nosy question. Clear the path.”
“Let me make this clear. I'm not just some bodyguard—I'm the bodyguard captain. I was ordered to protect you and surveil you.”
“So?”
“...Don't you get 'surveil'? If you pull any bullshit, worst case, I can kill you.”
“That's an odd statement.”
Yeon Hojeong tilted his head.
“You got orders to kill us if needed, but you don't have the chops for it, right?”
“What?!”
“We're in talks with Deputy Yang. Whether we serve him or ditch him gets decided in a few days. Meaning, we don't have to obey him yet.”
A strange smile crossed Yeon Hojeong's face.
“Didn't he tell you that? Thought you were his favorite, but looks like not.”
In that instant, Hwa Won felt rage surge.
“You little shit...!”
“But whatever, fine.”
“...?!”
“I'll be heading out like this now and then. No point bickering every time, and for Deputy Yang's face, I can't just beat you down.”
Yeon Hojeong untied the bundle.
Hwa Won's eyes narrowed.
Clothes?
Indeed. The bundle was packed with several sets of luxurious robes, mixed men's and women's.
“Clothes for the crew to change into. Satisfied?”
“...”
“Move.”
“One last word.”
Flames shot from Hwa Won's eyes.
“Slip out without reporting again, and I'll handle you at my discretion.”
Yeon Hojeong nodded.
“Hope you do. If you strike first, I can smash you without Deputy Yang complaining.”
Hwa Won laughed coldly.
“You know nothing about the deputy.”
“Yeah. If you were really his favorite, you wouldn't dare spout that crazy shit in front of me.”
“...?!”
“Out of my way.”
Hwa Won, still glaring, stepped aside.
Yeon Hojeong walked down the path without a word.
Hwa Won and Won Gak followed behind.
That was when it happened.
...
Yeon Hojeong's eyes flashed.
Sound transmission.
The air quivered faintly. Someone was sending a sound transmission to Hwa Won.
The area was deathly quiet, and Yeon Hojeong's senses were sharper than ever—he caught it.
Shh.
He felt Hwa Won's gait falter slightly.
Swoosh.
Hwa Won vanished.
Without looking back, Yeon Hojeong said, “Got urgent business? Gonna follow your boss?”
Won Gak glared wordlessly.
His eyes were on Yeon Hojeong, but inside, he was in utter panic.
Yeon Hojeong's eyes gleamed.
The ones dangling that thing over us—they were this monkey's subordinates?
This was getting very interesting.
“Well, well, where've you been till now?”
Gadeuksang greeted Yeon Hojeong with a mocking tone.
Yeon Hojeong handed over the bundle.
“Wearing the same rags all the time feels grimy. Got some decent clothes.”
“Huh? Clothes? We beggars wear a single set for ten years...”
Catching his ingrained beggar habits slipping out, Gadeuksang quickly lowered his voice.
“Ahem! Anyway, good work. Let's see what fancy threads you snagged.”
Gadeuksang grabbed the bundle with feigned nonchalance and headed inside. Paeryul spoke up.
“Back safe?”
“Yes.”
Paeryul glanced at the manor gate.
Won Gak had entered.
“Who's that runt?”
“The monkey's direct subordinate.”
Paeryul scowled openly.
“Get out.”
Blunt as a blade.
Won Gak stood with hands behind his back, unmoving even if a knife were at his throat.
Hiss.
Ferocious killing intent poured from Paeryul.
Yeon Hojeong shook his head.
“Just leave him.”
“No. Can't stand some unknown pest crawling around my turf.”
“Bear it a bit. If he acts up first, you can cut him down anytime.”
Paeryul, listening silently, growled at Won Gak.
“Anytime you're ready, come at me. I'll take your head in one swing.”
With that, Paeryul entered the quarters.
Evidently sick of the sight of Won Gak.
Yeon Hojeong chuckled.
“Impressive guy. Not easy living with that much killing intent.”
Still, he followed orders obediently. Not bad, even if it was a promise—given Central Plains sensibilities, consistently bowing like that wasn't easy.
Then Won Gak asked, “What the hell are you banking on?”
“Hm?”
“You and that swordsman—what makes you act so wild?”
Yeon Hojeong grinned.
“Skill.”
“Aigoo! Why show up now?!”
Jegal A-yeon wore a fearsome scowl.
She'd evidently been racking her brains hard in the short time.
“Hurry and help reorganize the structure! Damn it, my head's killing me.”
“Good work. Go rest inside. I'll handle the rest.”
“...You sure?”
“Yeah. Brainwork ain't easy. I'll review what you did and wrap it up solo today.”
Jegal A-yeon smacked her lips.
“You say it like that, and now I can't relax.”
“Quit the fake concern and crash.”
“Fake my ass! How rude! Hey, how'd it go?”
Yeon Hojeong nodded with a smile.
“Went pretty well. Things should get easier from here.”
“Good news!”
Jegal A-yeon flopped onto the bed.
“Wake me in one shichen. Better to hash out the headaches together.”
No time to stop her. Eyes shut, she was out before counting to three.
Yeon Hojeong chuckled at her, then sat reviewing the reorganization chart.
Suddenly, he fell into thought.
That was close.
After smashing the masked Heuk Yang goons, twenty more experts had swarmed in.
They weren't masked like the first batch. But their sinister inner energy and thick bloodlust marked them as Muk Ryong Bu instantly.
Didn't expect them to have that.
Fierce bunch, but burying peak experts like them was no big deal.
The issue was what they carried.
Like Storm of Pear Flower Needles.
Storm of Pear Flower Needles. One of Sichuan Tang Family's deadliest hidden weapons. Not even given to all elites—demanded deep knowledge and experience in hidden weapons and mechanisms to avoid frequent misfires.
Yeon Hojeong knew its power well.
Frightening.
Peak experts aside, even Mujongjibyeok masters couldn't escape if caught off-guard.
How the hell did black path thugs get something that lethal?
Not exactly Storm of Pear Flower Needles, but close.
Were they mass-producing them in Muk Ryong Bu?
No. If so, they wouldn't be desperate to recruit hidden weapon experts.
Yeon Hojeong touched his lips.
He'd snagged one just in case, but showing Dang Sang-a? Maybe not.
...
After deep thought, Yeon Hojeong sighed.
“Plenty of time. Think it through slowly.”
Three priorities now.
First: Nail the reorganization chart to hook Yang Cheon instantly. He'd obsessed over structures building Heukje-seong—no sweat. Important, but no worry.
Second: Gang Ryang. Killed the twenty follow-ups, scattered chaotic traces around the valley. Even pros would call it mutual annihilation. Then parked Gang Ryang in nearby hills. Drilled precautions till his head hurt—he'd stay quiet awhile.
After this, might take him along. No—must.
And third, last.
“I trust you.”
Yeon Hojeong gazed out the window.
Moyong Gun's ghost-filled eyes surfaced.
“Make me one solid piece of intel. I'll smash straight to Muk Ryong Bu's core.”