Fortress Infiltration (4)
Namgung Jin stepped outside, and the warriors bowed their heads as they reported.
"No intruders or suspicious activity reported."
"Understood."
Strange. They should have shown up by now.
Namgung Jin felt an odd unease but shook his head to dismiss it.
This was the Five Families Alliance fortress, designed by his own hand.
Its defenses were ironclad, impenetrable to third-rate riffraff from obscure sects or minor families.
Yet they still hadn't appeared... Had they bypassed the fortress and fled? That would add over a month to their journey to Shaolin Temple.
"No need to worry, Young Master. When have your strategies ever failed?"
Moyong Hwa-jeong, who had followed him out, spoke up as if to bolster his spirits.
Namgung Jin flashed a smug smile.
Women were predictable—once they fell for a man, they placed him on a pedestal. He reveled in the conquest of claiming the fortress's sole beauty as his own.
But Moyong Hwa-jeong's thoughts were far different.
His prediction had fallen flat, and she smirked inwardly. She wanted to see that arrogant nose of his broken.
Propping him up now would make his eventual collapse all the more entertaining!
"What if they've already infiltrated the fortress?"
Moyong Hwa-jeong had blurted it out casually, unaware that her woman's intuition had pierced the truth.
"Impossible."
Namgung Jin chuckled dismissively.
But he mulled it over—not out of respect for her, but his obsessive pursuit of perfection, down to the smallest detail.
"If they had slipped in, why haven't the watchtower guards raised the alarm?"
"They might not have been spotted yet."
"......"
Namgung Jin nearly laughed it off as absurd, then reconsidered.
This time, he couldn't dismiss her words.
If the Shaolin-bound intruders were truly inside, it meant they hadn't been detected.
Lost in thought for a moment, Namgung Jin regained his composure and grinned.
"Why the smile?"
"Rats in a trap. The hostages are in the northernmost warehouse. They're walking right into the tiger's den—what else could you call it?"
His retort rang hollow, uncharacteristically forced.
Moyong Hwa-jeong subtly pointed it out.
"What if they don't go for the hostages?"
"......"
"The old codes of the jianghu are long dead. What if they sacrifice the few for the many and slip north, leaving the hostages behind?"
Her words struck home, but Namgung Jin had his ace.
"No one passes the rear gate without my permission."
He drew something from his bosom.
It was a key assembled from metal fragments, as large as an adult palm and grotesquely shaped, evoking the bizarre blades of the unorthodox paths.
"Custom-made by a Shandong artisan."
"I see."
The Namgung family must have seized a Shandong locksmith and forced him to craft it. And once done, silenced him for good.
Moyong Hwa-jeong's guess hit the mark exactly.
"The rear gate only opens with this key. Even a traitor inside couldn't budge it without it."
"Impressive."
She feigned admiration, inwardly scoffing at his cunning.
She, Ak Gwanbi, Paeng Jagol, and Eon Ja-seong—all four families' representatives—had entered through the main gate.
Their estates lay northeast of the fortress, requiring a detour. The rear gate would have saved time.
She'd assumed Namgung Jin had summoned them through the front to flaunt the fortress's grandeur. Whenever the rear gate opened later, he was always present.
She'd long sought a way to unlock that ever-sealed rear gate, failing repeatedly.
To think it hid such a secret...
Moyong Hwa-jeong smirked inwardly.
Her subtle prodding had paid off.
And there was more: Namgung Jin underestimated her.
If he saw her as a rival, he never would have revealed the rear gate's secret himself. Unlike with Ak Gwanbi, Paeng Jagol, or Eon Ja-seong, he viewed her as mere bedfellow.
Men thought embracing a woman meant conquest; women used the bed to ensnare men.
The mantis devours the exhausted male after mating.
Moyong Hwa-jeong was such a woman.
I'll make you pay dearly for underestimating me. I can already picture your bewildered face. Oh ho ho ho!
The Shandong Yue Family warriors, bellies full from dinner, patted their stomachs as they exited the communal dining hall.
"They've tightened fortress security even more, huh?"
"Yeah, on account of possible infiltrators."
"Tch, that Namgung bastard. Watchtowers everywhere, and now more guards? What's he lacking?"
"We're the ones who suffer for it."
A figure emerged abruptly from the shadows.
Nearly eight feet tall, twin spears strapped to his back.
Ak Gwanbi, one of the Five Families' five masters.
The warriors startled into rigid attention.
"What were you chatting about?"
"N-nothing, sir..."
"Heh, no need to dodge among ourselves. Namgung Jin's a petty worm, unworthy of a real man."
Ak Gwanbi was infamous for his cruelty, yet known for treating his own clansmen well.
"But what can we do? Orders from above."
"Yes, sir!"
With Ak Gwanbi echoing their gripe against Namgung Jin, the warriors sighed in relief.
But after a few steps, he turned back.
"Those two heading to the rear gate earlier—what were their names?"
"Uh... from another family, so we don't know."
"One seemed kinda short."
"Did he?"
"Got it. Carry on."
Ak Gwanbi turned away without pressing. No point.
But he didn't ignore the odd vibe.
Something was off.
It felt like glimpsing not a man, but something else...
Needs checking.
Ak Gwanbi followed the direction the two had vanished.
Seo Baek and Joo Eun-ri reached the warehouse by the rear gate.
Chorang emerged from the darkness just then.
It wagged its tail twice—meaning no hostages in the buildings scouted by Song Hyeon and Wang Yi Sam.
Only one spot left: the warehouse ahead, holding Wang Il and Wang Yi.
As if to confirm, guards here outnumbered those at other sites several times over.
No more signals needed, Chorang climbed Joo Eun-ri's body and slipped into her sleeve.
Song Hyeon and Wang Yi Sam would join them at the warehouse.
The structure formed a 凹 shape—three rectangular buildings linked.
Hiding in shadows, Seo Baek and Joo Eun-ri slipped into the indented section.
Spot on. The biting wind already chilled, but the shadowed recess amplified the cold. Most guards focused on the front, leaving the rear corner deserted.
They peeled off the now-expired talismans.
No sense risking discovery if the time limit passed unnoticed.
The wooden fortress buildings had plenty of protrusions.
Seo Baek leaped, gripping one, then kicked off walls and grabbed holds, scaling swiftly.
Spotting his path, Joo Eun-ri—master of lightness skill—followed effortlessly.
This warehouse dwarfed the others. Its steeply pitched roof shed snow, leaving attic space between peak and ceiling.
A ventilation hole appeared, sized for venting moisture.
Tight for an adult male.
But Seo Baek was a youth, Joo Eun-ri slender—easy passage.
Seo Baek slid his greatsword through first, then entered. Joo Eun-ri tossed her gear inside and followed.
Good thing Joo Eun-ri paired with him, not Wang Yi Sam—his gut would've wedged them midway.
Shika Heart Method.
The darkness lit up like daylight.
The attic was dust-choked, spiderwebs everywhere.
Webs were a good sign—no one came up here.
Wooden floors creaked easily underfoot.
But Seo Baek and Joo Eun-ri moved with footprintless grace, even on snow.
They glided silently to the center.
Wood had upsides too—gaps revealed the interior dimly.
Seo Baek knelt, pressing his face to the floor.
Two chairs by the entrance. Wang Il and Wang Yi bound and seated.
Found them.
Infiltration success.
Now, rescue and escape.
But the warehouse felt eerie.
Sacks piled mountain-high, contents unknown, stacked against three walls to the ceiling.
Center: a bizarre mechanism.
It sprawled across half the vast space—dwarfing even the Jegal clan's lion statues, like child's play.
Warriors grunted, hauling sacks. They emptied contents with shovels into a funnel-like device.
A foul stench assaulted the nose.
What the hell is that smell?
Like a manure field or latrine.
Then a warrior's shovel clanged against the machine, sparking.
"Watch it!"
The apparent leader bellowed.
"One mistake, and it's not just you—the whole warehouse goes up! Hell, the entire fortress burns!"
Seo Baek grasped the secret.
The leader flinched at a single spark.
Warned of fortress-level explosion.
Plus acrid undertones amid the dung stench—familiar from Shu Dao Pass...
One answer fit all.
Thunderbolt Bomb.
The sacks held ingredients for them.
The massive device: a production machine.
The Five Families Alliance, defying Shaolin and the Murim Alliance, plotted to devour the Central Plains with secret bomb factories.