The Soul-Chasing Death Ghost's Fall
Bang So-un turned his gaze to the next matter. In the murim world, death was nothing special—just an everyday occurrence. Even now, nameless warriors were surely dying in some corner of the jianghu. And if you included those whose names were at least known, the number swelled even further.
But of course, there were exceptional deaths as well. Ak Bul-beom's was one such case.
The man called the Soul-Chasing Death Ghost, a monster who had never once failed in over a thousand pursuit-and-kill commissions. Countless people in the murim had profited from him, and just as many harbored grudges. His sudden demise was shocking news regardless of whether one liked or disliked him.
The official cause was death from severe internal injuries. Yet rumors swirled endlessly about who had inflicted those wounds. Names tossed around included one of the Ten Absolutes, high monks of Shaolin Temple, grand demonic lords of the Demon Cult, and even legendary hermits in seclusion. But no one knew the truth.
The only one who might know—the widow, the Painter Yang Yeon-hwi—kept her lips sealed.
"It seems the Painter has no intention of ever opening her mouth. Do you happen to know the answer?"
The question came from a sharp-featured middle-aged man with only two fingers on his left hand. Cheonji Dogwang No Deok-cheon, the current lord of the Haomen.
Standing before him was a young woman. Eyes gleaming with a mysterious red light. Silver hair streaked white. It wasn't hard to guess her identity from those traits alone. Especially since she was an absolute beauty.
The Red-Eyed Fox, Eun Hwa-yeong.
"How would I know?"
"Any guesses?"
"It's best not to make low-probability guesses."
"Hm, fair enough."
No Deok-cheon nodded. It seemed his question hadn't been all that serious to begin with.
"I heard the funeral was quite meager."
"When a prime minister's dog dies, crowds throng the gates. But when the prime minister himself passes, the gates stay silent."
A cold, detached reply. If a peak expert of Ak Bul-beom's stature from a prestigious sect had died, the funeral would have been a grand affair. But the Soul-Chasing Death Ghost, for all his fearsome reputation, was ultimately a lone wolf. Powerless experts like him often met such quiet ends. Especially one who'd racked up enemies everywhere—no need to elaborate.
"Hm. Still, two notable figures did attend, didn't they? The medical expert Go-eui and the Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord, I believe?"
No Deok-cheon's eyes flickered subtly at the mention of the Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord. Eun Hwa-yeong noticed but showed no hint of agitation.
"Yes."
"Any idea why?"
"The Death Ghost died while receiving treatment from Go-eui at the Cloud Middle Pavilion. His widow, the Painter, decided to bury him on Black Cat Mountain where the pavilion is located. Go-eui was the attending physician right up to the end, so his presence at the funeral is hardly suspicious."
"And the Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord?"
"He happened to be staying at the pavilion as a guest at the time. Probably figured ignoring a fellow murim member would look bad."
"Hmm."
Tap, tap.
No Deok-cheon drummed the armrest with his remaining two fingers.
"But one thing is truly odd. Go-eui is famous for never treating murim folk. So how did he end up seeing not one, but two?"
"I wouldn't know."
"You don't?"
"No. We might learn if Go-eui talks, but he's not the type."
"Well, is that really the only way?"
"What are you getting at?"
Eun Hwa-yeong narrowed her eyes, staring at No Deok-cheon.
"Just ask the Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord. You could manage that, of course."
No Deok-cheon finally played his hidden card.
The connection between the Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord and the Red-Eyed Fox. Their relationship was infamous not just in Hangzhou's underbelly, but across all Jiangnan.
The man who had attended the first night of Hangzhou's top courtesan. And that man was a married houseguest with Jiangnan's number one beauty as his wife. How could the gossip mills not churn?
Whatever the rumors, one thing was certain: the Red-Eyed Fox had given her body and heart entirely to the Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord.
No Deok-cheon didn't like it. A courtesan taking a man wasn't unusual. But it had to be purely transactional, exploitative. Especially for one under Haomen's wing.
Yet Eun Hwa-yeong didn't seem that way.
"'You could manage that, of course'? What do you think of my relationship with the Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord to say such a thing?"
Her expression turned icy.
'Well, well?'
No Deok-cheon tilted his head. Good call summoning Eun Hwa-yeong the moment the Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord was involved. Time to confirm.
Had the proud, haughty red-eyed fox been tamed into a lapdog by a man?
"What relationship? Husband and concubine."
"Hah."
Eun Hwa-yeong let out a frigid sigh. Her body trembled faintly, barely suppressing her outrage, before she spoke in a restrained voice.
"Courtesan and patron. That's it."
"Hard to believe. Would a mere houseguest visit you that often for just that?"
"How should I know? Do I need to read the Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord's every thought?"
"……."
No Deok-cheon fell into thought, his gaze probing. Her attitude was confident, natural—no cracks.
"No, you're right. Still, it's clear there's something special between you two. Extracting info should be easy enough."
"'Easy'? I wish."
"Hm?"
No Deok-cheon looked puzzled.
"The Golden Dragon Battlefield Lord and I made a promise. No prying into each other's private depths. He likes this woman of mine, but he's wary too. Everyone in the murim knows to be cautious with courtesans."
"Hm. More prudent than his reputation suggests."
"He's from an escort agency. You don't survive long without caution."
"True enough."
No Deok-cheon nodded.
"Anyway, now you know. Our relationship is just patron and courtesan—nothing more, nothing less."
"……."
No Deok-cheon was a legendary gambler with razor-sharp instincts. If anything seemed off, he'd have caught it. But he detected nothing.
So he dropped his suspicions about the relationship. He still didn't like his aloof fox having a nightly visitor.
"Fine, got it. Still, if you get a chance to dig for info, do it. That's your job."
"No need."
"Heh, yeah, you'll handle it fine."
Chuckling, No Deok-cheon turned toward the window.
"You may go."
Leaving the headquarters, Eun Hwa-yeong headed straight for the waiting carriage without detours.
"Let's go."
"Yes, Lady Eun."
The carriage rolled off.
Inside the moving carriage, Eun Hwa-yeong couldn't suppress her joyful smile. Joy at having helped her master.
It could have been a disaster, but she'd handled it cleanly. Of course, inwardly, she struggled to hold back her laughter.
Husband and concubine? Patron and courtesan? What nonsense was that?
Her master's pussy slave bitch. That was the only truth.
Information? She'd deliver every scrap without fail. It was her master's sacred command.
A slave bitch like her could only obey.
"Master must be pleased."
He'd perfectly achieved his goal at the Cloud Middle Pavilion. Her master truly was great.
And she was prouder still for aiding with intel.
"Next time too, without fail."
The driver naturally couldn't grasp her murmur's meaning.
"The main headquarters is starting to look like a proper force now."
"Haha, you're right, Young Master."
Jang Il chimed in at Bang So-un's words.
The Golden Dragon Battlefield's immense wealth was already formidable. Manpower had been lacking, but hiring top female experts filled the gaps nicely. Snagging Haomen's Eun Hwa-yeong gave them overwhelming intel dominance. Go-eui was an unmatched boon too—peerless in medicine, with heavenly poison knowledge and skills.
The San-gong Poison that worked on "real" peak experts was now reality, not a pipe dream.
Finally, the Painter. Militarily useless, perhaps. But invaluable to Bang So-un and Jang Il.
Above all, the perfect artist for nude portraits in the Slave Ledger. She could immortalize their steamy memories with slaves in limitless erotic paintings.
What could be more important than a bitch who provided such delights?
"Congratulations, Master."
Un Jung-seon smiled as well. They were still at the Cloud Middle Pavilion. Matters weren't fully wrapped.
Bang So-un intended to finish here.
"Disciple."
"Yes, Master."
"As I said, gather any materials you need. Make what I asked for diligently."
"Pardon...? Wasn't this disciple coming with you, Master?"
Un Jung-seon's eyes wavered.
"No. If you suddenly follow me, even a country bumpkin would suspect our bond. Do you want my identity as your master exposed?"
Go-eui, the eccentric, stubborn hermit unmatched by any. For her to abruptly join the Golden Dragon Battlefield? Anyone would smell something off.
Bang So-un, proud of his wits, wouldn't give such leverage.
"……Ah, no. This disciple was shortsighted. I shall obey Master's words gladly."
Un Jung-seon bowed deeply. Disappointment tinged her face. But emotions aside, she'd follow faithfully.
Her sky-like master.
"Good. I leave it to you. And don't be too downhearted. We can meet in secret often enough."
"Ah... Yes, Master!"
A smile finally returned to Un Jung-seon's lips.
Bang So-un's gaze shifted to the next. A woman kneeling stark naked.
The now-widowed Painter, Yang Yeon-hwi.
"Milky udder slut."
"Yes, Master."
She replied politely to the vulgar summons unfit for polite company. It laid bare their relationship.
"You'll come with us, of course."
"Your milky udder pussy bitch obeys your command, Master."
With her husband gone, Yang Yeon-hwi was unattached. Relying on the Golden Dragon Battlefield was natural. Offer good terms, and she'd accept.
"Haha, good. Come closer. I want to savor the valley lord with your body."
"Yes, Master."
Yang Yeon-hwi crawled forward. Writhing hips.
Bang So-un chuckled watching. A laugh loaded with layers.
'Another step forward.'
Bang So-un's gaze was already on the next.