Chapter 52
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Mutual Thoughts (2)
- A single instant faster than your opponent moves.
The precepts define the optimal timing for attack or defense this way.
They never specify when exactly to strike. They don't even mention what constitutes an opportunity. Everything depends on your senses. In short, they teach absolutely nothing about killing.
A single instant faster than your opponent.
Four Thousand Four interpreted those words as "one breath."
If you move just one breath faster than your opponent, any attack will land. Conversely, you can execute any defense.
Whether you possess the ability to move one breath faster is another matter entirely. The precepts dismiss such concerns outright, not even bothering to record them.
So how do you determine if you can move one breath faster than your opponent?
The precepts invoke intuition.
In a nutshell, they say to move if you judge that you can act faster. Yet they pad it out with all sorts of grandiose nonsense about being one breath ahead.
How are you supposed to be one breath ahead when you don't even know if you're faster or slower?
That's why I say the precepts teach nothing at all.
They're filled with nothing but useless drivel.
- How could a sparrow comprehend the phoenix's intent? Just memorize it, you fool!
He did memorize it, of course. But that phrase "a single instant faster" has a strangely addictive quality.
He knows it offers no practical help in action, yet the idea of moving one step ahead is deeply ingrained in his mind.
This time, too, he was one step ahead.
Being one step ahead came straight from his intuition, just as the precepts described.
They're about to move. They'll move soon. If you don't act now, it'll be too late. You'll fall behind. Get caught. Unless you want to get caught, you have to move right now. Otherwise, it's over.
With his entire body and mind flooded by such thoughts, how could he not move?
The one regret...
He'd left the handcuffs and dagger back at the Merchant Escort Manor.
They'd been useful for evading the grid search, but they didn't seem like items to discard like that. Something told him they could be even more valuable later.
But what could he do? He'd traded them for his life.
Four Thousand Four changed his clothes first.
The outfit he'd worn out of the steward's office was dusted with poison powder. People who brushed past him even slightly would collapse one after another. Martial artists had acupuncturists nearby for immediate treatment, but ordinary folk might suffer without any.
He could have fled as he was, but he stole a merchant's clothes and changed anyway.
He doesn't kill those he shouldn't.
He's never once killed someone he wasn't supposed to.
Boom! Boom!
Two flares lit up the night sky over the Merchant Escort Manor.
The explosive booms shook the deep night. The bright light illuminated the entire world.
Four Thousand Four thought of one woman.
The dazzlingly beautiful woman, the one who carried a fragrant scent, the one who could freeze his heart...
The flares were a signal to her.
She was extraordinarily wise.
Everyone at the manor had sought her counsel. They'd followed her words to the letter.
She was an exceptional strategist.
"Heh heh heh!"
He let out a chuckle for no reason.
He'd truly seen a woman of breathtaking beauty... Yet their fated connection turned out to be that of mortal enemies.
He'd killed the person she was protecting right before her eyes.
From that moment, they could never share a laugh again. They became beings who had to kill or be killed upon sight. Forever hunter and hunted, just like now.
She would see those flares and devise a new plan.
She'd spread out a detailed map of the surrounding area and scour every possible escape route. Then she'd station martial artists at so-called "chokepoints."
He could vividly picture her issuing orders one by one over the map.
"Heh heh! I thought I wouldn't let my gaze linger on a woman. Have I been shaken?"
"One!"
He decided to compose himself for a moment.
Just thinking of her filled his heart with melancholy. He missed her, even knowing she was the enemy.
"Where to go?"
There was nowhere.
Vanguard hadn't said where to meet after the job was done.
Could he just break away from the Heavenly Annihilation Division like this? No. As long as they held his sworn sibling captive, even if they cast him out, he'd have to bow his head and crawl back in.
He had to go to the Heavenly Annihilation Division. But he didn't even know where it was.
He didn't know where the Heavenly Annihilation Division was, or where Vanguard was, or even a place to lay his head tonight.
Sancho!
The Sancho he'd briefly visited before coming here came to mind.
Head there first. There would be Heavenly Annihilation Division members. Even if they'd all withdrawn, he could find some clue to contact them.
Four Thousand Four had chosen his destination.
A problem arose.
He'd walked until dawn, directionless, just putting distance between himself and the scene.
As day broke, he asked a peddler-like man for directions.
"Which way to Sancho?"
"Sancho? Never heard of it. Hey, do you know where Sancho is?"
"First time hearing it. Does a place like that even exist?"
"Must not be around here. If it's not nearby, no one knows if you ask like that. Isn't there a big mountain or river near Sancho? Ask about that."
He didn't know the way to Sancho.
Four Thousand Four was stunned.
He'd never imagined something like this happening. Never thought finding Sancho would be a problem.
He asked several more people after that, but got the same responses.
No one in the world knew of Sancho.
Was there a big river or mountain near Sancho? There was a big mountain, but it had no name.
Four Thousand Four turned and looked back the way he'd come.
He had to go back. Climb the mountain where he'd stayed again. Retrace the path in reverse that the Fox of Bireung Mountain had guided him on.
That was the only way to Sancho.
"No easy path, then."
Four Thousand Four shook his head side to side.
He backtracked.
Euldo Sect and New Moon Gate disciples roamed the village, big swords in hand, grumbling fiercely.
They were hunting for a stranger.
Four Thousand Four was a stranger too. But he was a newcomer who'd just entered from outside the village.
"Where you from?!"
"What's going on?"
"None of your business! What're you here for?!"
"People sure are stiff around here. Everyone like this? The way you talk, it's like you've built a wall of rudeness."
"Quit loitering and get lost!"
The sword-wielding martial artist scowled fiercely.
They traded non-sequiturs, answering off-topic to every question. Yet they ignored the responses and asked something else. Even when the answers were irrelevant, they didn't care.
Such conversations are common among people.
They assume they've gleaned the gist from the other's demeanor and speech.
Where from? No answer, so unknown. But clearly unrelated to the Merchant Escort assassination. What for? Doesn't matter. Just a passerby with no connection to the assassination, stopping by the capital coincidentally.
The one interrogating Four Thousand Four had pegged him from the start as unrelated to the assassination.
His appearance was utterly ordinary. Everyday.
He looked like a local who'd come from ten or twenty ri away for some errand.
His behavior was perfectly natural too.
He showed no intimidation facing Euldo Sect disciples. No flinching. With nothing to hide, his actions and speech flowed without hesitation.
Four Thousand Four strolled calmly through the martial artists.
No one who'd seen him remembered him. Plenty had glanced from afar, but none recalled his features. Even the acupuncturist who'd watched him closest wouldn't recognize him now.
Only one person remembered his face: Jeon Gal So-so, who'd slapped his cheek.
Four Thousand Four passed through the village. He reached the entrance to the great mountain where he'd stayed with Vanguard.
There, he plopped down in the shade of a tree and started eating the rice balls he'd bought in the village.
Munch! Munch!
While eating, he surveyed the surroundings.
Just an ordinary young man eating rice balls. No tension. Not the slightest wariness.
"What the...!"
Four Thousand Four had already entered "One."
His mouth chewed rice, but his settled mind scanned the area.
More than seven days and nights had passed since the Merchant Escort assassination.
Yet the mountain where he'd stayed with Vanguard still reeked of chilling killing intent.
Pursuers were naturally there.
The pursuers would have bypassed the Six-Directions Wild Boar. Then followed the group led by One Scout.
They should have passed this point seven days ago.
No one was supposed to remain here.
Yet... a chilling killing intent lingered. Eyes watching him gleamed with blades.
Who were these people still lingering on this mountain?
Had they failed to bypass the Six-Directions Wild Boar? Unlikely. The Wild Boar had strong martial arts but was simple-minded. He fought with skill, not stratagems. Such a man couldn't overcome superior numbers.
They'd either bypassed the Wild Boar long ago, avoided him entirely, or left a few behind as a precaution.
Whatever the reason, martial artists remained.
"At least thirty or more."
Four Thousand Four couldn't pinpoint their exact number.
They were extremely cautious. Perhaps highly skilled. Experts at this sort of thing. In a word, masters of concealment and infiltration.
But his intuition told him there were many— at least thirty.
"No turning back now that I've come this far. That'd look too suspicious. I've headed toward the mountain, so I have to climb it. Otherwise, I'll become a target inevitably..."
He intended to go to Sancho, so he'd retraced his steps carefully. But he'd walked right into it. By the time he realized it was a trap, it was too late.
They were so stealthy they evaded even his ears.
No. He hadn't activated his ears. He'd assumed Vanguard's camp would be empty. Prejudged that no one remained on this mountain.
In short... a mistake!
"Not dressed as a woodcutter, not like a hunter... yet venturing deep into the mountains. Heh! I've basically announced myself as a suspicious character worth watching."
He munched on the rice balls.
Something strange happened.
He'd confirmed ambushers... but no one pursued from behind.
They didn't budge an inch from their hiding spots.
A sufficiently suspicious figure had entered the mountain. And climbed casually.
Four Thousand Four reached the spot where Six-Directions had camped.
Vanguard had been here too. One Scout, Jaja, and Hanbi had camped here.
Anyone stepping into this place would draw immediate attention. Yet they didn't move. Not a twitch.
Why weren't they pursuing?
Four Thousand Four tilted his head.
Then, by chance, he looked up at the sky.
A pitch-black hawk hovered overhead, circling as it hunted prey.
Four Thousand Four felt the hawk in the sky was like the pursuers.
Were the pursuers viewing him as mere prey too?
His identity exposed anyway, he perked his ears and proceeded slowly, retracing his path.