The Fall of the Shandong Five
Ja Gangcheon kicked off the ground and shot toward the pot-bellied Second Brother like an arrow. Seasoned as he was, the Second Brother still startled at Gangcheon's light-footwork — yet he sidestepped and slipped past the incoming fist.
"Huh?"
The instant he thought he had dodged the punch—
Gangcheon had already drawn the fist back and swept past him.
"Big Brother!"
CRASH!
The First Brother — the Four-Faced Wolf — was just pushing himself up when Gangcheon's fist drove into his face.
His eyes rolled back as consciousness fled. Gangcheon seized the First Brother's head in his grip.
Exactly as the Four-Faced Wolf had done to the Donghae Trading Company laborer moments before. Only the result was utterly different.
"Stop!"
CRUNCH!
Gangcheon's grip crushed the Four-Faced Wolf's skull.
Those watching reeled in shock that one of the Shandong Five Evils had been killed.
He actually did it.
Many of them thought the same.
"I'll kill you!"
The pot-bellied Second, the lanky Third, the pockmarked Fourth Sister, and the one-armed Fifth all charged Gangcheon at once.
Not easy opponents.
He had finished the First with a surprise strike, but the remaining four were even tougher than the Ghost-Faced Twin Killers.
And this was not underwater — Gangcheon had no intention of meeting them head-on.
Tap.
A light push off the ground was enough to send his body soaring. He landed on the roof of a nearby building.
Then he picked up a small stone.
Whoosh!
The casually thrown stone flew at the one-armed man — who, with his superior light-footwork, had closed the distance fastest.
At speed, even a pebble became a fine weapon, so the one-armed man swatted it aside with the iron wire in his hand.
That was when—
"Dodge!"
Clack!
The voice of the pockmarked Fourth Sister cut in the instant after he struck the stone away.
"Ah—!"
Behind the pebble, a thick iron nail was already flying toward him.
The others had seen it, but the man facing it head-on never spotted the hidden weapon in time.
I was sure he only threw a stone.
It was a technique of flicking the fingers while recovering the throwing hand. Matching the path and speed of the stone already in flight, though, was no easy feat.
—Son! Want to play the needle-throwing game?
A technique Ja Gangcheon had begun at five and perfected by ten.
"Guh!"
The reward for pulling off the hard part was sweet.
Thud!
The iron nail punched into the one-armed man's forehead. He collapsed mid-charge, smashed into the roof railing, and crashed noisily to the ground.
He did not move again.
"You filthy bastard! I won't let you die easy!"
"I'll break every bone and stomp you to paste!"
"I'll leave only your head and roast you slow!"
The remaining three rained curses.
"Is that all you've got? Words?"
At the open mockery, the three exchanged looks.
Anger burned, but they recognized the situation was bad.
"As long as we don't let our guard down, a brat like that is nothing."
"I've got an idea."
The lanky Third suddenly changed direction.
He headed for the Donghae Trading Company headquarters.
"Kill a few of the ones he cares about and he'll chop off his own arms and legs."
BANG!
He smashed through the door and scanned the interior in a rush. No one was there.
Instead, something sharp tickled his ankle.
"Huh?"
A red line scored his ankle.
He had snagged a taut thread on the way in.
The thread had snapped, but it left a clear cut on his ankle. And from that cut, sudden agony surged.
"Ghh—"
Vicious poison.
"A trap…"
From the first display of the merchant worker Seok-ho to sending him to the physician — all of it had been a prepared snare.
Gangcheon had known that once they were pressed, they would go after the trading company people.
And the line strung to catch an ankle had been coated with Absolute Death Poison from Manshimak, once called the Poison King.
"Guhk!"
In the end the Third never had a chance to respond. His body locked up and his heart stopped.
Two left.
Gangcheon dropped from the roof.
"Only as confident as the number of men you've still got, I see."
Reduced to two, they still seethed with rage — but they did not rush him at once.
They exchanged glances, shifted positions, and tried to take his front and rear.
Gangcheon had no reason to yield the better ground. He charged the fat Second.
The Fourth swung around behind him as if she had been waiting for exactly that.
But Gangcheon, still racing forward, stamped hard and suddenly sprang backward.
Given the speed of his charge, the movement was almost unbelievable.
The pockmarked Fourth did not force it — she set herself for defense. She caught the incoming fist on her palm and knocked the kick aimed at her side away with her forearm.
In that opening the fat man completed the pincer, swinging his iron club from behind Gangcheon.
They had lost three, but the remaining two's martial skill was nothing to dismiss.
Their joint assault was seamless as one person, and they even began to press Gangcheon back.
We've won.
That was when the two were sure of victory.
Tssht!
Blood sprayed from the fat man's wrist as he brought the iron club down at Gangcheon's shoulder.
Clang!
At the same time, sparks flew from the Fourth's blade as it drove for Gangcheon's thigh.
Staggered by shocks unlike anything so far, they hesitated for a beat — and Gangcheon stepped back. Only then did they see the two short blades, one in each of his hands.
Armed, Gangcheon looked different again.
His eyes had gone as cold as an assassin's. Without delay he lunged at both of them.
Tssht! Tssht!
In the fierce exchange, blood occasionally flicked into the air.
None of it was fatal. But as the small cuts stacked up, their movements began to dull.
Pain made their motion unnatural.
The more that happened, the faster the wounds accumulated. And at some point the thought of stopping took hold.
But they could not.
If I stop, my partner dies.
They were barely holding on with the joint assault. If one quit?
Fear and loyalty collided.
The Second ended that fight first.
BANG!
He poured everything into one last swing of the iron club — then suddenly spun and fled.
"You son of a bitch!"
Left alone, the Fourth cursed herself for deciding too late.
A hair's breadth.
Had the Second known and taken the lead?
Thuck!
Already barely holding on, the Fourth failed to block Gangcheon's short blade.
Thud.
With her throat pierced, the Fourth collapsed. Gangcheon climbed to the roof of the tallest nearby inn.
"How far did you think you'd get in that condition?"
He clicked his tongue once, then unfurled his light-footwork. Before long he overtook the blood-soaked Second.
And the result did not stray from expectation.
A short blade buried in the back of his skull, the Second toppled — and the fight was over. The moment the five notorious experts of Shandong Province vanished.
The death of the Shandong Five Evils carried several meanings.
First, it made crystal clear who ruled Gyounam. And those who had still questioned the deaths of the Ghost-Faced Twin Killers shut their mouths.
He had finished all five himself, under countless watching eyes.
Traps, poison, ambushes, and hidden weapons had all played their part — yet no one condemned Gangcheon for facing the five alone.
"Manor Lord, hyung-nim. So you're saying Haomun will come back?"
"Yeah. Just watch."
When Yeonhui of Haomun had visited before, Gangcheon had said:
They think they're doing me a favor by helping.
Only now did Panseok grasp the meaning.
"Haomun figured the Manor Lord couldn't hold Gyounam."
"Right. If I can hold Gyounam, the whole conversation changes. Haomun isn't in any position to demand negotiations as equals."
Just then a soft, smooth voice came from outside the door.
"Manor Lord. It's Yeonhui."
"Whoa! Hyung-nim! She really came!"
"Tell her to come in."
The door opened and Yeonhui entered.
The head she bowed in greeting dropped a handspan lower than before, and her manner was careful.
"Thank you for granting me an audience, Manor Lord. I've come because there are points to add to the previous proposal."
Even her speech had changed; she was so scrupulously polite it almost made Gangcheon uncomfortable.
"Noona. Relax."
"Yes. Thank you, Manor Lord."
"But don't get too comfortable with the content."
The smile that had briefly risen vanished from Yeonhui's face as she followed Gangcheon to the pavilion in the rear garden.
After wetting her lips with tea, she recalled Gangcheon's nature and went straight to the point.
"We will donate thirty percent of the profits earned through the black market to the Manor."
For Haomun it was an extraordinary offer — but Gangcheon showed no reaction.
"I think you've missed the real issue."
"Please tell me what you want."
"I still don't want Haomun in Gyounam. You'll watch me, gather information, and sell it somewhere else. I don't like that risk either."
"There will be no surveillance of the Manor Lord."
"If you're in Gyounam, information about me will collect itself."
Living among people, you naturally learn certain things. Telling them not to do even that was the same as telling them to live with their ears closed. It made no sense.
"Is there a method you desire?"
"I won't know whatever you do behind my back anyway. So bring me a document stating you will neither provide nor sell information about me to anyone else."
He wanted Haomun's written pledge. Yeonhui answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Impossible."
Haomun was an intelligence organization. Restricting how it used what it gathered happened only in truly special cases.
And that specialness was so special that Gangcheon did not qualify.
"Then forget it."
"An official Haomun document is out of the question, but I can give you my personal pledge. If you wish, I'll leave it in writing."
When Yeonhui spoke this way, it carried two meanings.
First: she would not put the problematic information to use.
Second: if she did, she was confident she would not be caught.
"Haomun can't, but noona can?"
Cheongu, standing nearby, interpreted for him.
"It means if a problem arises, she'll take responsibility and step down in Haomun's place."
"That's right. But I promise you — there will be no problems."
As one of only five Branch Leaders in Shandong Province, she could control the affairs of a small city like Gyounam.
"Fine. Then shall we start the real negotiations?"
"Isn't this the end?"
"What are you talking about? The real thing starts now."
Gangcheon pointed to Cheongu beside him.
"This is our Manor's Chief Manager. He'll handle the negotiations."
Having officially received the post of Chief Manager, Cheongu adjusted his posture.
For Yeonhui, who had already thought she had conceded a great deal, a nightmare of a session began.
One shichen later,
Yeonhui left Deungmyeong Manor with the negotiations concluded.
"Noona. Safe travels."
Unlike her arrival, she received a send-off from Gangcheon.
"Branch Leader. Until next time."
Cheongu, standing beside Gangcheon, offered a courteous farewell as well.
"I am grateful for the two young heroes' hospitality."
In a warm atmosphere they exchanged friendly goodbyes.
Yeonhui maintained her manners with a smile to the very end, then slowly turned.
With every step she drew closer to the waiting carriage.
When she passed through the door the coachman held open and climbed inside—
"Aaaargh! You little dog bastards!"
The carriage filled with screams and curses.
"I'll kill them! I'll cut those groveling necks and throw them to the dogs! I'll peel the meat off their bones and pickle it!"
"We're departing."
As if long accustomed to this, the coachman drove the carriage away.