The Disposable Puppet Strikes
Yi So-ok, the disposable puppet, offered incense at the altar. True to her status as the matriarch of a prestigious family, her posture exuded refined grace. Nangong Hwaran, waiting behind her, smiled faintly.
“What wish did you make?”
“Naturally, the safety of our family's warriors,” Yi So-ok replied with a gentle smile.
“And you, Hwaran?”
“For everything I do to go smoothly.”
“It surely will.”
The exchange seemed perfectly normal, but Nangong Hwaran's words deliberately omitted one crucial detail.
—For everything Master does to go smoothly.
Throughout the incense offering, that's exactly what Nangong Hwaran had been praying for. No one had ordered her to. Her mind had simply been rewired that way. Yet on the surface, no one suspected a thing.
“Then let's head down now.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Mother and daughter descended from the Seokpa Shrine. After they'd gone some distance, Yi So-ok's eyes suddenly sharpened once more.
—Hyol Su, above.
—Yes, Madam.
Hyol Su Pappa, following behind, thrust her finger into the empty air. A thread-like red energy flashed from her fingertip in an instant.
Hyol Su Pappa's signature finger technique—a brutal secret art that had once turned countless heads into pulp.
This time, the Blood Flash Finger shot not at a human, but at a bird. A pigeon.
Pfht!
The pigeon plummeted without even a cry, dead on impact.
“Hm?”
Nangong Hwaran turned, sensing something. But her gaze met only the clear blue sky. Hyol Su Pappa had already snatched the falling pigeon in a flash.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing, just my imagination.”
“Silly girl.”
Yi So-ok chuckled softly. But into her ear came a transmission.
—It's not a messenger pigeon, Madam.
Hyol Su Pappa's report. Yi So-ok's eyes narrowed in thought.
'Was I overthinking it?'
Earlier, those two incense-offering sisters had rubbed her the wrong way, just a bit. She'd suspected they might be contacting someone. But apparently not.
Only then did Yi So-ok let go of her suspicion.
“Enough worrying over nothing. Let's keep going.”
“Yes, Mother.”
With that, mother and daughter resumed their descent.
It wasn't from the sky.
It was from the ground.
A black messenger pigeon from the Shadow Gate underworld network. Faster than any other, it raced down the mountain.
Toward someone.
“Three of them. No other unusual presences reported.”
Bang So-un spoke as he unfurled and read the letter carried in the black pigeon's beak. It was from the slaves at the Seokpa Shrine—Muyeong Bido and Gal Sahyeon. He'd dressed them up, disguised their faces completely differently from usual, and sent them in as fake incense-offerers.
And he'd added one more trick: Go-eui's Formless Pill.
A special drug from Go-eui that concealed one's energy. Even a Peak expert could hide their presence like an ordinary commoner. In certain situations, it was downright cheat-level.
You could scout others' energy freely while keeping your own hidden.
“Heh, perfect. We could probably pull off the big plan today, right?”
Jang Il grinned. If the only guard was that old hag Hyol Su Pappa, it would be fine. How impressive could some ancient crone be?
“No rushing. Cross-verification is essential.”
Bang So-un remained cautious. There was always the chance Muyeong Bido or Gal Sahyeon had missed something.
“Haha, got it, Young Master. You're always right.”
Jang Il nodded vigorously. He always accepted Bang So-un's words without question.
“But we should get ready.”
Bang So-un slipped something into the black pigeon's beak. It darted back toward the mountain.
“Let's go take a look ourselves.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Their footsteps headed toward Jangsaeng Pavilion.
Jangsaeng Pavilion lived up to its reputation as a high-end teahouse—no low-class customers in sight. Patrons ordered expensive teas, sipping quietly in the serene atmosphere, murmuring soft conversations.
Among them sat Bang So-un, Jang Il, and Yeon Su-rin, disguised as ordinary guests by a window, casually nursing their tea.
How much time passed?
—They're coming.
Yeon Su-rin's transmission rang in Bang So-un's ear. He subtly adjusted his posture.
“Haha, the tea on Qixi night has a special flavor, doesn't it, sis?”
He spoke like any average customer.
“I think so too, brother.”
Yeon Su-rin smiled. A reversed dynamic from their usual roles—but it looked right to onlookers. No one would buy a stunning married woman with a child as the younger sister of a man still years from thirty.
As they exchanged warm chit-chat, new customers entered: two veiled women and an old crone.
Naturally, Nangong Hwaran's group. They were seated at an empty table—perfectly visible from Bang So-un's spot.
'Lucky break.'
Bang So-un planned to wait, until Yeon Su-rin scouted them out.
But then—
'Hm?'
A chilling sensation washed over him; Bang So-un barely suppressed a twitch.
“Brother-in-law's doing well, I hope?”
His best acting yet. But his mind raced.
'What was that? No way...'
A sharp gaze stabbing at him. No illusion. Bang So-un trusted his instincts above all—something beyond a martial artist's senses, a direct intuition from his mind.
And it screamed: something off.
From Nangong Hwaran's group. Probably that suspicious old hag.
“Of course I'm fine, little brother-in-law.”
Jang Il, playing the brother-in-law, replied.
“Good to hear. I've heard you've been busy.”
“Heh, stamina's my strong suit.”
“Haha, true enough.”
Natural banter. But midway, Bang So-un quickly finger-wrote on the table: Caution.
His way of signaling without the inner energy for transmissions. Both Jang Il and Yeon Su-rin spotted it clearly.
—Understood.
—Yes, brother-in-law.
The transmissions came almost simultaneously. Still, nothing happened. The other side hadn't truly noticed—just habitual wariness, perhaps.
'Old folks get paranoid.'
Bang So-un eased up slightly. If it wasn't real detection, no issue.
Meanwhile, Yeon Su-rin finished her scan.
—Nothing else from the three. Same as the shrine slaves' report.
Bang So-un checked one more thing.
“Grandmother's been asking for you a lot lately.”
Grandmother—their code for the prime suspect, Hyol Su Pappa.
“Oh? I'll have to visit soon.”
—Can't gauge exact level. She's hiding her energy.
Yeon Su-rin transmitted what her mouth didn't say.
“That's good news.”
Bang So-un replied casually aloud while pondering.
'So that's it.'
Matched the shrine slaves' report. Hiding energy wasn't unique to Go-eui's special drug—it was just the most effective. Plenty of other methods: energy-concealing arts, different pills, even sealing one's dantian entirely.
The last wrecked the body, used only by fugitives desperate to hide. But now he had a rough idea.
One final check needed.
'Make her use her martial arts.'
No matter how well-hidden, unleashing power would reveal it inevitably.
He had a move prepared for that.
'Heh, preparing a one-time sacrificial horse is child's play.'
The "preparation" he'd told Jang Il to make—it was for this.
The tool: a third-rate female ruffian, common as dirt in the martial world. Third-rate or not, she could handle street thugs easily.
Position.
Bang So-un's finger flashed the word. Jang Il saw it clearly.
—Got it.
Jang Il transmitted back, then sent one outward—to relay the target's exact position to their puppet, created days ago.
Now, just wait.
For the disposable puppet horse to snag a street thug.
Slurp.
Bang So-un sipped his tea leisurely.
How much time passed?
Suddenly, an enraged woman's shrill shout erupted from outside.
“You damn bastard! You groped my ass with your hand, you dog fucker!”
“Wh-what bullshit! Don't frame me, you bitch!”
“You son of a bitch, to the end?!”
Arguing voices. Then—
“Wha?! Wh-wh-what?!”
Crunch!
“Gahk!”
A man the size of a child screamed as he flew through the air—smashing through Jangsaeng Pavilion's window and hurtling inside.
His flailing body sailed uncontrollably... straight toward Yi So-ok's table.
Precisely toward Yi So-ok herself.
'Hmph, no guard stands by while their charge is threatened.'
He'd ordered Nangong Hwaran not to intervene. Yi So-ok had no martial arts. That left only the old hag to act.
'Show your true colors quick, you old bitch.'
Bang So-un smirked inwardly in triumph.