Flawless Cleanup
Jegal Cheongha had returned to the Sagong Family Manor. Martial artists clad in robes emblazoned with the words "Murim" were combing every corner of the grounds. They were investigators from the Murim Alliance.
"Damn it, this is looking like a total bust."
Lion Iron Fist Gok Wi-gang, the leader of this investigation team, grumbled with a sour expression. And he had every reason to. The culprits had left behind not a single trace—no bodies, not even a proper footprint. It was unnervingly thorough.
"Fucking Hwagol Mountain ash," Gok Wi-gang spat, glaring at the ground where the corpses had long since melted away into the soil. The fact that they'd prepared Hwagol Mountain ash meant they were a highly organized assassin group. But knowing that alone didn't get them anywhere. There were plenty of such shadowy outfits in the world, and they operated in secrecy by nature. Even the Murim Alliance couldn't track them perfectly.
"Hey, over there! Anything turn up yet?" Gok Wi-gang called out to the team members meticulously searching the inner rooms.
"Nothing so far!"
"I told you, we're not gonna find jack shit here, not even a speck of dust."
"Yeah, no kidding! These bastards were thorough as hell!"
The investigators looked equally defeated. As experts in tracking and forensics, they knew when a case was hopeless.
"Goddamn it, now I look like the idiot."
Gok Wi-gang cursed under his breath. He could spin the report to the higher-ups somehow, but the sideways glances from the others? They'd be staring daggers, wondering how the Murim Alliance couldn't handle something this basic. Desk jobs sucked, but fieldwork was a real bitch.
"Don't sweat the small stuff."
A woman's voice cut in suddenly.
"What the—? Who the hell...?" Gok Wi-gang started to snap, eyes bulging, but he clamped his mouth shut. He'd seen who it was.
Someone from Bi-gak. Not just any operative, either—this was the second daughter of Bi-gak's chief and Murim Alliance's strategist, Heaven Machine Jegal Ja-un. Dream Illusion Flower Jegal Cheongha. Her peculiar moniker came from those strangely alluring eyes that seemed to draw people in.
"Ah, you've arrived... Military Strategist Jegal."
Gok Wi-gang's tone turned polite in an instant. She was the daughter of a Five Great Families clan, no less—the Jegal family—and offspring of the Heaven Machine himself. No one in their right mind crossed her. And it wasn't just her pedigree. Jegal Cheongha was a renowned young expert in her own right, famed for her sharp intellect and piercing insight that cut straight to the truth.
Officially, she was one of Bi-gak's regular strategists, but no one treated her like a mere flat-rank. Her influence in Bi-gak ran deep, position or not. Gok Wi-gang swallowed hard, treading carefully.
"Yes, Hero Gok. How's the investigation going?"
"Well... not great. The killers were too meticulous—no traces left behind."
"Almost no traces means some must remain."
"Ah, nothing major, just signs they used Hwagol Mountain ash right here..."
"Hm."
Jegal Cheongha knelt immediately, inspecting the ground. Gok Wi-gang gulped involuntarily, averting his eyes. She was a striking beauty with an exotic aura, and her figure—those heavy breasts straining against her robes, that curvaceous ass—drew the gaze no matter how hard he tried to look away. The eternal plight of men.
He counted sheep in his head.
"It's clean."
"...Yes."
"Nothing to find here."
Jegal Cheongha stood again.
"What about elsewhere?"
"Still searching..."
"Hm."
Her gaze swept the manor with a thoughtful glint. Then she started walking—toward the warehouse.
"Where to?"
"To investigate."
"Pardon?"
Gok Wi-gang hurried after her.
"The team's already cleared that area..."
"Doesn't matter."
She flung open the warehouse door without hesitation. And in that moment—
"Here it is."
Her lips twisted into a cold smirk.
"What do you mean...?"
Gok Wi-gang blinked in confusion.
"The smell hasn't faded yet. Poor ventilation."
"Smell?"
"Sweat from a female peak expert."
"S-sweat? From a female peak expert?"
Gok Wi-gang was dumbfounded. What, like some dog? Days later, and she could still sniff out sweat? And distinguish it as a woman's? How the hell...?
Rumors had painted her as eccentric, but this was next-level.
"Blood too."
"Blood as well?"
His eyes widened.
"So they killed right here...?"
"No, not that strong."
"Ah, right..."
Arms crossed, she scanned the warehouse with those eerie eyes. Then, abruptly, she dropped to her knees and pressed her face near the floor.
"Here?"
Lick.
She licked the floor like it was nothing. Gok Wi-gang jolted in shock.
"Wh-what are you... doing?"
Taste-testing for investigation wasn't unheard of, but for someone of her status? A woman, no less? The sheer disregard for propriety hit him like a thunderbolt.
"Just as I thought."
She rose, murmuring.
"What... exactly?"
"A faint taste of blood. And I know what kind of trace it is now."
"A trace? But the team found nothing..."
Gok Wi-gang looked skeptical. His men were pros—thorough searches turning up zilch? Hard to buy.
But he couldn't dismiss her outright. This was the Dream Illusion Flower of Bi-gak.
"One clue alone means nothing; two reveal the truth."
She explained curtly, then continued.
"This is from foreheads slamming the ground. Repeatedly. The blood flowed from split brows."
"Pardon? Foreheads to the floor? Who?"
"A female peak expert."
"..."
Again with the woman? He couldn't keep up.
No, wait—he had decades of fieldwork under his belt. Think it through.
The Sagong family had three women who qualified as peak experts: matriarch Mok Un-gyo and her daughters, Sagong Heryeong and Sagong Hemi. Hemi was second-rate but upper-tier, so maybe. One of them, then.
Which meant...
"...Begging the killers for their lives?"
"Who knows."
"But that doesn't fit. From what I know, the Sagong women wouldn't grovel for mercy... Wait, unless...?"
Something clicked for Gok Wi-gang.
"They threatened with family as hostages?"
"Can't say."
Jegal Cheongha stood.
"There are survivors."
"What?"
"If they wanted them dead, they'd have done it here. No reason to drag them out. But the blood isn't that heavy."
"I see your point, but isn't that a bit premature...?"
He ventured cautiously, gauging her reaction. She didn't bat an eye—clearly her default demeanor.
"Sure, just my hunch."
She stepped out of the warehouse. Gok Wi-gang followed.
"Any witnesses?"
"None, unfortunately."
"Figured. Must've been nighttime."
"Likely."
"Gansu."
"Pardon?"
"Compile a list of every martial artist in Gansu from two weeks ago."
"Gasp? The whole province? We don't have the manpower..."
Gok Wi-gang let out a panicked groan. Gansu was massive—impossible.
"Don't worry about numbers. I'll request backup from Bi-gak."
"Ah..."
Daughter of the chief indeed. Gok Wi-gang felt the weight of her connections anew.
"Handle that, Hero Gok. I'll check other spots."
"Got it. Leave it to me."
And so the Murim Alliance's probe into the Sagong family tragedy truly began.
"Heh heh, no issues, right, Young Master?"
"Haha, what could go wrong? We scrubbed every last trace."
Bang So-un laughed confidently. When you pulled off a job, you tied up loose ends meticulously. They'd gone over the site multiple times, erasing everything. No one in the world could piece it together now. No witnesses, either. Their alibi at the Gansu branch was ironclad.
The only potential loose ends? The three women they'd spared.
But they were safer than safe—little more than livestock now.
Slurp! Suck! Glurk!
Inside the curtained carriage, a naked woman knelt, eagerly sucking Bang So-un's cock. It was Sagong Hemi's face. Not a hint of reluctance—she focused solely on pleasuring her enemy's dick.
Right beside her—
Suck! Slurp! Smooch!
—another nude woman serviced Jang Il's cock. Her mother, Mok Un-gyo. Mother and daughter side by side, slurping enemy meat in absurd obedience.
Behind them, elder sister Sagong Heryeong knelt blankly, naked and vacant-eyed.
"Puhahaha! What a sight."
Bang So-un guffawed smugly, grabbing Sagong Hemi's hair like a handle and pistoning faster.
"G-g-gurk...!"
His cock rammed deep into her throat, gagging her, but Sagong Hemi endured. It was the only way to avoid becoming a piss-shit receptacle.
"Hahaha, spot on, Young Master."
Jang Il yanked Mok Un-gyo's hair, slamming her head back and forth savagely.
Suck! Suck! Suck! Suck! Suck!
Even as his thick shaft battered her throat, she stared blankly, her mouth-pussy devoted to her master's pleasure. A flesh slave through and through.
Thus, Bang So-un and Jang Il's journey home was utterly relaxing—and delightful.