Secret Friend
“….”
“….”
I looked at him.
He did not look at me.
I let out a short sigh, dusted myself off, and walked over to sit beside him. I dropped heavily into the empty seat next to his.
“How’s it going?”
“Ah, hello.”
We both stared into empty air.
Off to one side of the waiting room, a half-crippled black-path man in a wolf-skin vest was being carried out on a stretcher. The gray-ponytailed black-path man had clearly seen it too. I could feel his body trembling.
“….”
I studied the gray-ponytailed man for a moment. Tension was written all over his face.
I sat beside him and pulled an oil-soaked cloth from my waist.
Click.
I separated the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap on my left hand from the Go-a that Master Yunjin had given me. Piece by piece, with precise care, I dismantled the metal that reached up to my elbow.
Clack. Click. Click-click.
I laid the separated pieces across my knees and began wiping them thoroughly with the oiled cloth.
Unlike other martial artists, I still had no beloved weapon bound to me as a lifelong companion. Even the third-rate fighters rolling around marketplaces treasured at least one cherished sword as if it were gold and jade. For someone of my level to still lack a primary weapon was, in its own way, unique.
Asura had once addressed the matter. He said that one who walked the destiny of Heavenly Blood had no need to follow the rules others set. Because I grew by copying others’ martial arts, devouring them, and turning them into nourishment—growing in a way completely different from everyone else—if I half-heartedly imitated their path, I would only lose my way.
With no faction behind me, always fighting with my back to the wall and assuming the worst, confining myself to a single weapon was far too dangerous. My principle of combat was simple: if necessary, I would snatch the enemy’s weapon—or even a housewife’s laundry paddle—and smash their skull with it.
Someday I would have a primary weapon of my own. But I knew, deep down, that the time had not yet come.
That was why the only thing I maintained with care was this Chiljong-heukjusa-gap—sometimes a means of attack, sometimes a means of defense.
I wiped meticulously between the metal plates, cleaning away hair, blood, and scraps of flesh. Ever since the Namgung Family head had bestowed it upon me as a reward for saving Namgung Sogyo, this artifact had saved my life hundreds of times.
The Namgung Family head had said that this steel gauntlet would only be damaged by an artifact of equal grade or by Sword Gangqi, which could only be manifested from the Transformation Realm onward.
In truth, it had happened only once. On the back of the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap was a large, conspicuous dent. When the Guardian of Diancang Sect had swung a rusted, blood-red cleaver with monstrous strength, I had felt the sensation of being severed and my arm had been flung away.
The reason I flatly refused to call myself a true master was because I had already witnessed countless heavens.
Swish-swish.
“….”
While I dismantled and cleaned the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap, the gray-ponytailed black-path man sat as if time itself had stopped—spine ramrod straight all the way to his tailbone, fists resting on his knees in a rigid posture.
“Mind if I drop the formalities?”
“Ah, of course, hyung-nim.”
The gray-ponytailed man answered quickly.
“Hyung-nim? Hyung-nim, huh.”
I kept wiping the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap with the oiled cloth as I spoke.
“Well, this is fate too, I suppose.”
“Pardon?”
“How about we become secret friends while we’re at it? My name’s Bilyu.”
The man stared at me as if he had no idea what I was talking about.
“What is this all of a sudden… secret friends?”
“If you don’t like it, we can always head to the tea room together in a little while. Since it’s going to end up that way anyway, better to settle it before the matchups are finalized—saves paper, right? What’s the paper ever done wrong? Don’t you think?”
In that brief span, dozens of expressions flickered rapidly across the man’s face. And at the end, it settled into a smile that brightened all at once—like someone who had unexpectedly found salvation at the very edge of hell.
“Ah, s-secret friends! S-sounds good! Secret friends! Bilyu!! Haha!”
“I’m the hyung-nim. Don’t drop the formalities. You’ll die.”
“Ah, yes. Hyu… Bilyu hyung-nim.”
The massive black-path man quickly turtled his neck in.
“Ah, s-sorry.”
“Name?”
“Th-that is…”
My hands, still polishing with the oiled cloth, stopped cold.
“Not going to say it? Want to go to the tea room and eat some peanuts through your nose like your friend?”
The black-path man’s face turned the color of dirt as he swallowed hard.
“I’m known as Yeong-ung-chil-wang…”
“….”
The ridiculously grandiose moniker left me speechless. Seeing my expression, the man hurriedly added,
“It’s just… back when I wanted to abandon my old name, the black-path kids who followed me started calling me that on their own…”
“Enough.”
I cut him off.
“From now on your name is Eung-chil. Got it?”
“….”
The expression on the giant black-path man who had instantly become Eung-chil—formerly Yeong-ung-chil-wang—was beyond words.
I leaned forward and looked up into his face.
“Not going to fix that face? Even after a thug like you picked a fight with me, I went out of my way for the first time in my life to extend a hand with righteousness and chivalry so I could live properly—and you’re really going to reject this upright, sincere heart of mine? My body may be here, but my heart is with the Orthodox Path, you bastard.”
“…This isn’t some marriage proposal at knifepoint…”
Eung-chil swallowed. Slowly, he forced the corners of his trembling mouth upward.
In a chilly voice I asked again,
“Your answer?”
“I… gladly accept hyung-nim’s proposal…”
It was the face of a man accepting only because he had no other choice if he wanted to live.
“Good. Looking forward to it.”
“Yes, Bilyu hyung-nim.”
And just like that, we became secret friends.
“Earlier in the waiting room I happened to overhear something through the supervisor.”
“Yes?”
“That before you fled the Lower Gate and went into hiding in the underworld, you were quite the well-connected man about town—so you supposedly know the backgrounds of most of the participants in this dark tournament inside and out.”
What I always lacked was information. I knew few people, my network was thin, and I constantly suffered from a lack of intelligence that raw force alone could never solve. The moment I overheard that bit in the tea room from the supervisor, I had come up with this plan.
The instant he heard what I said, Eung-chil seemed to grasp my intent at once.
“Ah! If that’s all it was, you should have just said so! I got all tense for nothing. I was wondering why hyung-nim suddenly came over, and not knowing your intention made me nervous…”
The most terrifying thing was never knowing why someone approached you. Once Eung-chil understood why I had come to him, he finally seemed to relax. From that reaction I judged that securing his cooperation going forward would not be a problem.
Click.
I slipped the cleaned Chiljong-heukjusa-gap back onto my hand and fitted the Go-a over it. As the Go-a slid up my forearm, I felt a faint resonance that stirred a protective energy through my body.
I wonder if So Yeomgyo is all right.
I pictured her—the Munju of the Blood Death Sect with her black hair streaming. Right now she would be in the spectator seats waiting for the tournament to begin, struggling in her own way to locate the site of the Mangmu Baekpalchilyaje.
I could not help her directly, but the fastest shortcut to aiding her from here was clear. Win the tournament, use the prize of a private audience with Paeng Ha-jin—head of the Jeolhae Fifth Branch—to subdue him on the spot, and force the location out of him.
Learning through Eung-chil about the opponents I would face would be a great help.
Just in case. Just in case, you know.
Before we left, while I was doing my final checks in the room, I had spoken to So Yeomgyo with worry.
While you’re infiltrated right in the middle of the spectator seats, what if the Jeolhae Fifth Branch figures out that you’re the one who attacked Unwol Jiju? You’ll be completely surrounded.
Pfft… Puhaha!! Are you worried about me right now? You, Bilyu? About me?
At my words she had clutched her stomach and rolled around laughing. I swore to the heavens that I would never again say anything that sounded like worry for her.
She had cackled and rolled about, then wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and said to me,
That look on your face—don’t tell me you’re thinking you’ll never say anything worrying about me again, I swear to heaven?
You’re really… so smart and clever you must want to eat everything in sight. Our Blood Death Sect Munju.
So Yeomgyo had sat on the bed, pressed the soles of her feet together, and rocked side to side like a roly-poly as she spoke.
Pffft, does Bilyu think I want to live, or that I want to die?
What kind of nonsense is that all of a sudden?
So Yeomgyo had worn a bright, pleased smile as she answered.
I don’t want to die. I’m scared of death. I want to live.
…
We had looked at each other. I had looked at the soft sword coiled around her wrist. Looked down at the floor. Looked up at the ceiling. Crossed my arms and wet my lips with my tongue.
“…I live thinking the same thing every day too.”
“Did I interrupt your rest?”
I snapped out of my thoughts and raised my head. A shadow fell across me from above where I sat. Eung-chil, who had been beside me, had stepped out to check exactly when the matchups would be posted.
“Name: Bilyu. Affiliation: Blood Death Sect. Rank: 4th-grade field investigator, lowest rank. Correct?”
“….”
Lee Hae-ryang stood at my head. I noted the red ring on his finger.
“Something you want to say?”
“I simply don’t understand.”
“What?”
I adjusted my shoes and tightened the straps of my ankle guards.
“Someone of your skill being only 4th-grade? Does that make any sense?”
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t.”
“You’re treating us like complete fools. Do you think we’re blind?”
“….”
“You’re the same Bilyu who’s been shaking Shaanxi lately after smashing So Cheonpa—the one they call Namyadangjagang Bilyu, ‘A Man Must Strengthen Himself,’ aren’t you?”
Whoosh.
Lee Hae-ryang tossed a bundle of papers at me. I snatched it out of the air. As I read through it, he spoke.
“Wow, something felt off so I put in an urgent request, and I nearly fainted. This isn’t just some skilled big fish to liven up the tournament level—you’re someone who’s been quietly stirring up storms all across the jianghu.”
“This is…”
My muttering voice came out rough and metallic. The papers read as follows:
Item 1. Defense of the Emei Sect Guardian’s blooming ceremony.
Special note: Alleged clash with the Flame Wolf King of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, but credibility extremely low.
Item 2. Instant kill of Jongnam Sect rising star Gwak Ido, leaving him half-paralyzed.
Item 3. Accompanied by a direct bloodline of the Namgung Family; frontal breakthrough of the Heavenly Net Earthly Snare formed by one to four squads of the Blood Fiend Eight Gates—direct elites under the 7th Palace Lord of the Blood Cult.
Special note: Some eyewitness accounts claim performance of Dengpianduokong, but credibility extremely low.
Item 4. Half-paralyzed every leader of the Twenty-Four Green Forest Strongholds across Hebei, Shanxi, and Shaanxi.
Item 5. Frontal defeat of Unwol Jiju elite martial artists in a 1-vs-20 life-and-death duel.
Special note: Said to have used three-section staff and staff techniques to repel them, but credibility low; estimated use of deception and similar methods.
Item 6. Instant kill of So Jeongmun, vice commander who had surpassed the mature Peak stage.
Master claimed to be Gang Ilbi of Shaanxi, but no credibility. Body techniques estimated as primary, yet main martial art still unidentified.
This assassin is a person of interest with numerous questionable points. Additional investigation required. Based on the instant kill of So Jeongmun, who had reached the mature Peak stage, it is confirmed that the subject has at minimum surpassed the Peak realm.
“….”
I quietly folded the papers. Their information network was impressive. Of course they had not fully grasped me. Plenty of details had slipped through.
Still, I never expected them to have pieced together this much… I can’t afford to underestimate them.
“You look quite surprised.”
Lee Hae-ryang smiled at the look on my face. I looked up at him and let out a short sigh.
“I’ve been curious about something for a while.”
“What is it?”
I no longer felt like pretending not to know. Staring at the red ring on his finger—the symbol of the Blood Cult—I spoke.
“Why does everyone in your group talk in that same damn way?”
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
For the first time, Lee Hae-ryang’s always-composed, snake-like smiling face stiffened.
Looking up at that face, I spoke coldly with another small sigh.
“At first I thought it was just that bastard Ryu Hwasa’s personal speech quirk. Do you people receive some special training during your education to speak in that unpleasant, gloomy, corpse-like manner?”
Lee Hae-ryang’s face hardened completely.