The Strong Survive, the Weak Perish
Thwack. With a sound like leather drumskin ripping, the man who took a kick to the leg rolled wildly across the ground. Groans leaked from his lips as he tumbled over the stone floor. It wasn't even infused with inner energy, nor had she put much force into the kick. But the pain surging through his leg like it was about to snap came because the woman had struck his pain point dead-on.
She fixed him with a cold stare as he clutched his leg and groaned. "What do you have to cry about? Get up."
He swallowed his moans under that icy gaze, sharp as a blade slicing skin. As he barely managed to haul himself upright, her voice slithered into his ear. "Getting too comfortable lately? Can't even gather intel properly."
"L-Leader, it's not like that..."
"Does the main branch seem like a joke to you?"
Gal Ye-ryeong cut off the Luoyang branch leader's words without mercy. She was in a foul mood right now. And this fool dared make excuses? Her expression naturally turned venomous.
"You know excuses are a sin, right?"
"Th-that's..."
"They say the Luoyang branch is the best-fed and coziest among all the branches. You been pocketing the tribute for headquarters?"
Without pity, she kicked his ankle, sending the Luoyang branch leader crashing down again. He gritted his teeth against the pain slamming into him from the stone floor and answered. His instincts screamed a warning: one wrong word here, and his life was over!
"N-no, ma'am! That's not... ugh."
"Then how do you explain slacking on your duties?"
"T-time and budget..."
"Bullshit!"
Gal Ye-ryeong sliced through his words, her eyes freezing cold. The Haomen Luoyang branch existed to monitor the Yongmun Escort Bureau's movements. Not just the Yongmun family in Luoyang, but in coordination with the Dengfeng branch near Shaolin Temple in Dengfeng County, they were meant to swiftly track the righteous factions rooted in Henan Province—like Shaolin and Yongmun. It was one of Ya Noe's most critical branches. You could say Luoyang was ground zero for the intel war between the Beggar Clan and Haomen. It just didn't show on the surface.
"Get up."
"Yes, ma'am!"
The Luoyang branch leader snapped to attention like a soldier, but Gal Ye-ryeong ruthlessly kicked his shin.
"Urk!"
"Does it hurt?"
"N-no, ma'am!"
"Then you need more."
Thwack! His body, braced desperately on trembling legs, collapsed. Gal Ye-ryeong glared down at the sprawled branch leader, her anger still unsated.
"The man in charge of a key branch like Luoyang, neglecting intel on the most important person in the world."
Gnashing her teeth with a grind, she spat the words. The branch leader, face-down on the ground, swallowed bloody tears.
Who could've imagined Baek Su-gyeong would become such a force in the murim while living in Luoyang? Back then, he was just an appraiser at the Yongmun Escort Bureau, nothing special. The Yongmun family treated him well solely because of Young Master Yi Jeon-hwi. No one dreamed a mere tutor could earn that kind of favor from Yi Jeon-hyo.
'Damn it...'
But with his accuser being Left Commander Gal Ye-ryeong, he had no ground to argue. He swallowed his grievances.
'Why'd that lunatic suddenly blow up and bring this thunderbolt down on me!'
If not for Baek Su-gyeong, this tiger of a woman wouldn't have stormed the Luoyang branch and turned it upside down. Among the three commanders, she topped the list for foul temper, or so the rumors went. Word was she was the sect leader's daughter—untouchable.
Her voice rang in the ears of the prostrate branch leader. "How long you gonna lie there? Get up!"
"Y-yes, ma'am."
The Haomen disciples of the Luoyang branch watched their staggering leader with grim faces. Of all people, why the Left Commander? Who could've predicted one of Haomen's top brass would drop in unannounced?
Leaving the battered branch leader—looking like he'd been pummeled for half a shichen (one hour)—standing there, Gal Ye-ryeong returned to her seat at the head table. She crossed her legs, propped her chin, and her red hair swayed gently without a breath of wind.
"One gak (15 minutes)."
"Pardon...?"
"All records on Baek Su-gyeong. Bring them. You've got one gak."
His face drained white at the order to fetch every scrap of Baek Su-gyeong's past activities from the Luoyang branch in 15 minutes. But defiance was suicide.
"Y-yes, ma'am!!"
In that brief gak, every Haomen disciple in the Luoyang branch ran like their soles were aflame. Even Branch Leader Jeonggak, dragging his mangled body after the beating, dashed about like a madman. No disciple dared slack.
By the end of the gak, they'd scraped together most of the intel on Baek Su-gyeong—and collapsed like soaked paper. Even so, the pile was dust-thin.
Gal Ye-ryeong narrowed her eyes at the papers handed over by Jeonggak. "This all?"
"S-sorry, ma'am. This is everything we have left."
"Anything else to report?"
"There's a report on Ilwolgyo."
"Later. Out."
"Ma'am."
She summoned her attendant as the limping Jeonggak withdrew. "Jamsa."
"Yes, Left Commander?"
"Go check on Teacher Baek. Those two vixens sticking to him bother me."
Her mood had soured even while waiting for the files. She'd been thinking about it all along. An unexpected order. Jamsa hinted at protest. "But, Left Commander..."
"Don't make me say it twice, Jamsa."
Her eyes flashed like a beast's as she looked up from the papers. New to her service, Jamsa knew that glint: no defiance allowed. As her current bodyguard, he bowed silently.
"...Understood."
Gal Ye-ryeong turned back to the documents. "Nothing happens to Teacher Baek. Eliminate all variables. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Go!"
Jamsa's presence vanished in an instant. Twisting her reddish locks absently as she scanned Jeonggak's files, Gal Ye-ryeong frowned. The auburn-tinged red hair marked her as a practitioner of Haomen's secret Red Serpent Blood Shadow Art. It was her habit when deep in thought.
"Can't make sense of it..."
Baek Su-gyeong's name popped up sporadically amid Yongmun Escort Bureau records, but nothing detailed his favored status with Yi Jeon-hyo. Not surprising—he wasn't important then. Lucky any scraps survived.
"Tutor to that blockhead young master, huh. Appraiser at Yongmun Escort Bureau, doubling as the young master's teacher... How'd that even work?"
It didn't add up. Sure, appraisers had light duties mostly judging treasures' authenticity—counters handled routine trades. But their role wasn't limited to that; they sometimes inspected the bureau internally.
Gal Ye-ryeong rubbed her chin. "They paid the Yongmun Escort Bureau to hire Teacher Baek... but he wasn't their only appraiser."
She convinced herself with that logic. Only after flipping through every page did she take a breather.
"Intel's seriously lacking. Massively. It's only been half a year. A guy skyrocketing like this in that time? No wonder the records are thin..."
Baek Su-gyeong had shot up like a comet. Unbelievable that someone wielding such murim influence was just an appraiser. Pressing Jeonggak wouldn't yield more; she'd have to observe Baek Su-gyeong herself.
Scratching her chin lightly, she glanced outside. "Branch leader!"
"Yes, Left Commander!"
Jeonggak flew into the room like he'd been waiting, prostrating himself.
Gal Ye-ryeong crossed her legs. "You had a report on Ilwolgyo?"
Ilwolgyo—known in the murim as the Demonic Cult. They called themselves Ilwolgyo, or more loftily, Ilwol Singyo. Ruling beyond the Tianshan Mountains in Xinjiang as their domain, they were the largest single force eyeing the Central Plains. Less a sect, more a religion.
At the heart of their Xinjiang stronghold lay Urumqi. Past its gates loomed a massive palace that seized the eye: the Ilwol Divine Palace, seat of Ilwolgyo's absolute ruler, the cult leader.
In its deepest sanctum, a man lounged on his throne, a book in hand.
"Heavenly Demon, Heavenly Demon..."
A resonance that struck the heart. The one word shaking the chest of Ilwolgyo's absolute sovereign, the cult leader himself. How extraordinary.
He, whom all Ilwolgyo faithful revered as a living god.
"Intriguing."
What manner of man was this Su-gyeong? Introducing the Cheon-geuk Jin-gyo—a rival to Ilwolgyo, more cult than sect—and setting the cult leader's heart ablaze.
"The strong survive, the weak perish..."
The thick shell of ennui cloaking him cracked as he grinned in fascination. Low laughter echoed.
"Teacher Su-gyeong, thanks to you, this seat's boredom shatters. Heh, haha! Hahaha!"
No one in the murim foresaw a single book sparking massive ripples in Ilwolgyo.
Deep in Xinjiang beyond Tianshan, something stirred in Urumqi's Ilwol Divine Palace.
"The strong survive! The strong shall claim all! Even this seat's bloodline bends to this iron law!"
The iron law of the strong survive. The moment a new creed, shaking Ilwolgyo's traditions, was born.