Nine Deaths, One Life (1)
Wang Yi Sam swallowed hard and clamped his mouth shut. Song Hyeon's words had struck right at the heart of the matter.
There were times when the usually impassive Seo Baek lost his temper in a big way.
It was whenever Wang Yi Sam or Yu So Un blundered into mortal danger or got captured by enemies.
Back then, Seo Baek had scolded them harshly, in a way that belied his youth as a mere teenager.
If he charged headlong into the Underground Hall now and got himself killed, Seo Baek wouldn't grieve—he'd be furious. That much was obvious.
And then, even if they met in the afterlife someday, he wouldn't have the face to look him in the eye...
Wang Yi Sam nodded and said, "Got it."
"Right now, the priority is rescuing Seo Baek and the Shaolin monk Jin-mun. We can deal with punishing the Underground Hall later—plenty of time for that."
"Ah, right—the Shaolin monk too."
Only then did Wang Yi Sam recall that not just Seo Baek, but Jin-mun as well, had plummeted while climbing the rope.
"Good thing the cliffside path slants along the rock face. We can search as we go down."
"Sounds good. I'll take the lead."
Wang Yi Sam, who had hesitated at first when ascending the path, now surged ahead, driven by the urgency to find Seo Baek as quickly as possible.
The group began moving toward the spot where Seo Baek and Jin-mun had fallen.
Joo Eun-ri, bringing up the rear, asked Song Hyeon, "What are the odds you think Seo Baek is still alive?"
"Hard to say."
"Five to five? Six to four?"
"If I had to pick, seven to three."
"Which way—seven or three?"
"...Three."
"I see."
Joo Eun-ri asked no more and quietly followed behind.
Song Hyeon was the type who always thoroughly assessed the situation, weighing every possibility before acting.
In the past, he might have abandoned Seo Baek and pressed on to Shaolin Temple. The odds of survival were that slim.
He'd told Joo Eun-ri seven to three, but deep down, Song Hyeon calculated it as eight to two—or even nine to one.
Yet here he was, leading the search. It wasn't just sentiment.
The chances were low, but he had a strong gut feeling that Seo Baek was alive.
An inexplicable hunch he couldn't quite explain.
Wang Yi Sam, who had feared the cliffside path, was now leaping across the precarious stone steps like a master of lightness skill.
It had to be because he cared for Seo Baek that much.
Yu So Un, who had traveled with Seo Baek and Wang Yi Sam from Sichuan—had he been here, wouldn't he have thrown caution to the wind just like Wang Yi Sam to find him?
So Un's got that sense of loyalty. He'd do it for sure.
Setting aside Yu So Un, what kind of pull did this boy have on a grizzled middle-aged mercenary swordsman, making him disregard his own life for the sake of yi?
Song Hyeon wondered what it was about Seo Baek that drew people in.
The cliffside steps were treacherous, with missing chunks of stone and slick moss everywhere, making every step a gamble.
But the real problem was the thick fog obscuring their vision.
Everything below knee level vanished into the mist. It was the kind of fog that played tricks, making it feel like a revenant's rotten hand might shoot out and seize an ankle at any moment.
In the midst of their descent, Wang Yi Sam voiced his bafflement. "Where the hell did those bastards come from, firing crossbows out of nowhere?"
"The Underground Hall folk had them cleverly concealed."
"Concealed crossbows? Where?"
"In the bamboo spears."
"What? How?"
"They look like ordinary bamboo spears on the outside, but inside there's some special spring-loaded mechanism."
"I thought they were just regular bamboo spears... and they pulled a trick like that?"
Wang Yi Sam swallowed hard upon realizing the Underground Hall's secret.
If Song Hyeon hadn't yanked him back by the collar when they fired, he'd be a pincushion right now, riddled with bolts.
"But how'd you know?"
"I've handled similar weapons before."
Song Hyeon recalled the infiltration of Black Wolf Castle.
Back then, he'd led the stealth team to Shaolin's armory and let them pick their odd weapons for the mission.
He'd recommended the Plum Blossom Thunderbolt Arrows to Yu So Un.
The long, tube-like Plum Blossom Thunderbolt Arrows had six holes up front for firing bolts and projectiles of all kinds.
With an internal spring mechanism, it operated on principles utterly unlike a standard crossbow.
And they'd hidden something like that inside bamboo spears?
The Underground Hall thugs' spears were just a bit thicker than normal bamboo. Fitting a crossbow mechanism into that narrow space and disguising it perfectly would require serious funding and craftsmanship—no small feat.
People hiding underground, evading revenants, didn't have that kind of resources.
Which means...
Song Hyeon had a pretty good idea of the Underground Hall's true nature.
Wang Yi Sam, sensing the same implication, pressed, "What kind of murim warrior uses trick weapons like that?"
"The Underground Hall isn't just some murim sect. They're an organization dispatched by the court."
"...!"
"Crafting bamboo spears with hidden crossbow mechanisms isn't something even a famed orthodox sect could pull off easily. And bamboo spears are a weapon favored by the imperial army, which prioritizes practical combat techniques."
"Ugh..."
Stunned by Song Hyeon's revelation, Wang Yi Sam let out a groan before snapping back. "Then why target the junior and the Shaolin monk?"
"Their goal was just to retrieve their spy. The Shaolin monk wasn't even on their radar. I'd guess the court is trying to isolate the Murim Alliance."
"They must've cut the rope bridge too, right?"
"Exactly."
Song Hyeon nodded in agreement as Joo Eun-ri chimed in.
Wang Yi Sam, dazed for a moment, exploded in rage. "Those goddamn Underground Hall bastards! I oughta storm in there right now and—"
"Already forgot not to act rashly?"
"You want me to just sit back while the kid falls into their trap through no fault of his own?"
"If it weren't for my talisman, you'd be dead already. I'm not saying let them off—rescue the junior first, then plan our payback."
"Grr."
Wang Yi Sam grudgingly swallowed his fury at Joo Eun-ri's icy rebuke.
Thinking it over, she was right on every count.
Embarrassed at his own hot-headedness, he bellowed even louder, "Underground Hall scum, just you wait! Next time we meet, I'll end you all!"
"Of course."
Joo Eun-ri nodded with eyes full of resolve.
It hadn't been long since she'd learned the truth, but she too couldn't forgive the Underground Hall's scheme that had ensnared Seo Baek.
Song Hyeon, meanwhile, thought coolly with detached eyes.
It won't be that easy.
An organization planted by the court to seize control of the Central Plains murim—that was the Underground Hall, as far as he could tell.
If the court's involved, things get complicated.
Song Hyeon had spent the last few years far from the Central Plains in Yunnan, so he was out of touch with recent murim news.
The rumors he'd heard were that the emperor was relocating the capital, since the revenant outbreak had started right there.
No new capital decided yet, so he was holed up in a temporary residence on the border between Hebei and Liaoning.
Liaoning was the Moyong family's stronghold, fueling whispers that they might be hosting the emperor.
Whichever clan ended up with their home turf as the new capital would effectively rule the Central Plains.
The imperial court was a nest of endless scheming at the best of times.
In this chaos, who knew what power plays were unfolding behind the scenes?
The unwritten rule has always been that court and murim stay out of each other's way. But...
Song Hyeon felt the world had changed since the revenant outbreak.
The emperor would stop at nothing to regain the people's hearts.
The court's grip on the Underground Hall and their move against the Murim Alliance was proof.
Song Hyeon had planned to wash his hands of it all, seclude himself in Yunnan, and live out his days in peace.
But the moment he broke that resolve and returned to the jianghu, he was thrust into power struggles.
Forces exploiting the crisis for gain, not even trying to stop the revenants...
Why did the jianghu's reality always leave a bitter taste upon realization?
But the next moment, Song Hyeon cracked a faint smile.
Had the jianghu ever run right?
He'd just do what needed doing from where he stood.
What Song Hyeon had to do now was simple.
Head to Shaolin Temple and join the operation to stop the revenant outbreak.
Resolution made—all that was left was action.
At that moment, Wang Yi Sam, leading the way, shouted, "There's the Shaolin monk!"
Song Hyeon and Joo Eun-ri hurried forward.
Jin-mun was about three zhang from the end of the path, dangling by clutching a tree root growing from a crevice in the cliff face.
When the Underground Hall thugs tossed the ropes, Jin-mun had nearly crossed the cliff. That let him slam into the wall, tumble, and grab the root.
A stroke of sheer luck.
"Can you jump from there?"
"I'll try."
At Song Hyeon's suggestion, Jin-mun nodded.
He planted his feet firmly in a indentation on the cliff, took a deep breath, then kicked off and leaped.
Thud.
For a Shaolin 18 Arhat like Jin-mun, three zhang was child's play.
But battered from the impact and drained from clinging so long, his energy was spent.
Fortunately, as his arc peaked, Song Hyeon reached out and grabbed him. Jin-mun barely hauled himself onto the path.
"Amitabha. My thanks."
They could have rested now that they'd saved Jin-mun, but there was no time.
Unable to contain his impatience, Wang Yi Sam asked, "Did you see the junior by any chance?"
"The junior? You mean layman Seo Baek?"
"Yeah. He... he fell into the abyss too."
Jin-mun fell silent for a moment, then shook his head with a Shaolin-style palm strike. "This monk was barely hanging on myself—had no chance to look for layman Seo Baek. Amitabha."
"Junior..."
About an hour before Song Hyeon's group rescued Jin-mun.
Seo Baek was plummeting into the black void of the abyss, its maw gaping wide.
No matter how he twisted and spun, he couldn't slow his fall. Even a murim master was powerless against nature's might.
A sudden gale whipped in from somewhere, flipping his body like a leaf and sending vertigo crashing over him.
Seo Baek gritted his teeth.
Get it together.
He spread his limbs in an X to maximize air resistance. His descent felt a fraction slower.
More help than a lifetime of lightness skills and body techniques—pure improvisation fitting the moment.
But if he kept falling like this, he'd smash into the ground in a blink, shattering every bone.
Then, through the fog, he spotted a slanted ledge on the cliff face.
There.
Seo Baek folded his limbs sideways, angling his body to veer toward it.
Ground or cliff—hitting at this speed meant death either way.
If anyone saw, they might mistake it for a suicide dive born of terror.
At that instant, Seo Baek spun midair and reached into his pouch, pulling something out.
In Seo Baek's hand was the silver thread net from the Zhuge clan's mechanism formation trap.