Legal Slaughter and the Demonic Vanguard
It wasn’t that at all. A temporary shelter woven from thick fabric and erected on site was called a field tent. A man slipped inside, brushing aside the entrance flap.
“Captain. The eighty-seventh candidate site.”
“Oh, Dabulri. Did you finish digging? Anything turn up?”
The captain, who had been lying on a cot picking his nose, bolted upright.
Dabulri shook his head with a regretful expression. The captain exploded.
“Goddamn it! Isn’t this treasure map just a total scam? Eight months we’ve been digging holes in the ground, and nothing! Why is there nothing!”
A treasure map. Quite literally a map with buried treasure.
“Still, the eighty-eighth, eighty-ninth, and ninetieth sites will be finished by tomorrow. Let’s just dig up to exactly one hundred and head back. Who could complain about that?”
“Fuck. Dammit.”
The captain spat a curse and flopped back down. That was when it happened.
“Captain!”
Another subordinate came barreling into the tent. Despite the man’s obvious urgency, the captain remained indifferent.
“What is it?”
“The Daejeongmun bastards have all swarmed in!”
“What? That Wang Son-man son of a bitch. Did he spill everything? Ugh. This is why you can’t trust those righteous faction pricks. No sense of honor. None whatsoever.”
Dabulri corrected him. “Would someone who learned the Heart Seizing Art really betray us? He must have been exposed due to poor handling on his part.”
After all, they had bestowed the precious Heart Seizing Art upon him and even given him a black heart. Once discovered, he would become a public enemy of the Murim anyway. So if Wang Son-man took control of the Daejeongmun afterward, it would be the same as the entire sect falling into their hands.
“Same difference. He got caught because he screwed up? Means his skills were lacking and that’s why he failed. Anyway. Hoo. Up we go.”
The captain planted his feet and rose, looking at his subordinate.
“The Daejeongmun bastards swarmed, you said? How many?”
“Roughly fifty, it seems.”
“Fifty, huh.” The captain licked his lips. “Dabulri, what did you say their fighting strength was again?”
“Two at early Peak, seven First-class.”
“Ha. That’s it?”
The captain’s eyes gleamed. “They’re practically begging for a grave. I was getting bored anyway. If we wipe them all out…”
“Captain. Our mission is—”
“Aish! Damn it.” The captain cut Dabulri off. “I know that, okay? But we’ve already been discovered. We wipe them out and withdraw. What, should we just advertise that we’re hunting for treasure? No, right? So what else can we do? We did our best. Hmm… let’s see…”
The captain stroked his chin.
“First, finish digging the holes we already started. We should at least complete what we began. And get the laborers ready to be buried as well.”
“I will carry out your orders.”
Dabulri turned to leave, but the captain caught his arm.
“Wait. We still need to deal with Wang Son-man. Dabulri, you handle him and return separately. If they all rushed out here, their base should be empty. Have someone else finish the cleanup.”
“Understood, Captain.”
Dabulri bowed respectfully before vanishing outside the tent. The captain then issued orders to the remaining subordinate.
“Assemble the entire Jeonjin Parangdae. Leave only the ones finishing the digging. It’s been a while since we last carved up some people.”
Suseol Mountain was one of the countless ordinary peaks scattered across the gangho. Its terrain was neither particularly rugged nor blessed with beautiful scenery. A main road ran nearby, so there was little reason to visit. Aside from the occasional herbalist trudging up with a basket on their back, human traffic was almost nonexistent.
It was also the place where the missing persons had been dragged according to Wang Son-man’s confession.
The Daejeongmun rescue party had just reached the mountain’s entrance, right at the border between the fields and the foothills, when a man stood boldly in their path.
His hair was a wild mess and his face was filthy with grease, yet his eyes burned with a savage, piercing light.
“Daejeongmun? I’ve been waiting quite a while.”
The sect leader glanced sideways at the guardian elder. It wouldn’t do for the leader himself to shout. The guardian elder infused his voice with inner energy and bellowed.
“Who are you! Reveal your identity!”
“Me?” The man grinned viciously. “This elder’s name is Yeom Saraedal.”
“Anryang Yeom Saraedal!”
The guardian elder cried out in shock. The Daejeongmun warriors stirred noisily in response.
Cheong turned to Paeng Daesan beside her.
“Anryang Yeom Saraedal? What kind of name is that? Is his surname Yeom? Yeom Sa?”
“It’s Yeom.”
“Then his given name is Saraedal? That sounds even weirder. How can someone’s name be—”
“It’s a naming convention from the Western Regions. Though… never mind. Your ignorance isn’t exactly new.”
“If you know, just tell me. So, is he famous? Is he strong?”
“Anryang Yeom Saraedal. His known cultivation is late Peak. I see. So it really was all the Demonic Cult’s doing.”
Anryang Yeom Saraedal. A demonic practitioner whose subtle skill matched the subtle nickname of being the incarnation of Anryang. However, his fame did not stem from personal martial prowess. He was known as the captain of the Jeonjin Parangdae, the combat unit operating under the Demonic Cult’s external division. His ferocious charges resembled those of Anryang, hence the nickname.
“Demonic Cult? Those evil bastards who hole up in the mountains?”
“Exactly.”
It was then that the mission window, which had been pretending not to exist, finally revealed its repulsive form.
Crisis (Unknown Number)
You have encountered the Demonic Cult’s special operations unit.
Actions for Mission Fulfillment:
Good Karma) Defeat the Jeonjin Parangdae
Evil Karma) Convert to the Demonic Cult and join the Jeonjin Parangdae
Heavenly Killing Star) Slaughter them all
This choice may influence the entire world.
Another forewarning quest. They had already run into what felt like the final boss, and now it was giving her a forewarning? What a load of crap.
Cheong clicked her tongue. “Aish. Hey, San. Even if I chew the poppy now, the effect would probably kick in too late, right?”
“I told you last time. The side effects are no joke, so I said to endure it unless absolutely necessary.”
“I’m fine, though…”
Cheong liked alcohol. She had enjoyed it even before leaving the sect, but never to the point of chugging strong liquor. These days she could drink it like water. Why? Because she could. To her, alcohol was simply a pleasant beverage. No matter how much she drank, it only ever left her pleasantly tipsy. And since leaving the sect, she had never once suffered a hangover. She wasn’t sure why, but she suspected it had to do with her constitution choice.
Corpse-Blood Poison Person. Anything with a positive effect worked normally, while all negative effects were nullified.
The same applied to the poppy. She had been warned that the side effects would eventually knock her flat, yet there had been no sign of trouble. To Cheong, it was simply a medicine that relaxed both body and mind.
Strategy guide, it’s you again. I really want to meet you.
Cheong offered silent gratitude toward the unknown person who might exist somewhere in the universe.
“But you said he’s late Peak? Why is he standing there so boldly by himself? Anyone would think he was Transcendent.”
“He’s not alone. Look.”
Men dressed in black emerged one after another, pushing through the underbrush.
“Hey there, Daejeongmun leader. Is that little brat barely hanging onto the Peak realm? And there’s one more. That old man glued to his side? I’ll personally take on you two. How about it?”
Wang Gaeyuk and the guardian elder exchanged glances. They were old friends who had grown old together building their sect. Closer than brothers, a single look was enough to convey their thoughts.
He doesn’t seem to know, does he?
He really doesn’t seem to know.
Both Cheong and Changbin were at late Peak. Paeng Daesan was mid-Stage, and Namgung Sinjae was early Stage.
“You two old men had better give it everything you’ve got to take me down. Because the longer this takes, the more of your weak little family members will die.”
Wang Gaeyuk and the guardian elder met eyes with Cheong’s group and gave a tiny nod. Then they deliberately put on solemn expressions, drew their weapons, and shouted.
“That villain and I, along with Guardian Elder Ki, will handle this personally! Everyone else, exterminate those wicked Demonic Cult dogs!”
The implication was clear: they would take care of Yeom Saraedal while the others dealt with the rest.
“Kuhahaha! That’s the spirit! Come at me, you old fossils!”
Yeom Saraedal laughed heartily, completely unaware of the situation. In his head, the tragic downfall of the righteous faction was already playing out in vivid detail.
The two old men, too busy trying to stop him while their disciples died around them. The continuous screams and blood of the righteous faction. The old men growing more and more desperate, drowning in despair and self-blame. Their twisted expressions! And when only the two old men remained, he would subdue them, mock them, and toy with them at his leisure. He would savor their sorrowful reactions.
Everyone had at least one plausible plan.
But his grandson had always emphasized knowing both yourself and the enemy. That principle was the foundation of all strategy, in every world, whether Sun Tzu existed in it or not.
If you don’t know your enemy, you get beaten. Ignorance was best learned through getting your teeth kicked in.
“Let’s go! We shall eradicate the filth of the Demonic Cult and establish justice in the Central Plains!”
Wang Gaeyuk took the lead with a roar, and battle cries rose behind him. The fight had begun.
Cheong was thrilled. Wow! Legal slaughter! Free murder! Infinite refills!
Of course the law of the land forbade killing. But thanks to the principle of non-interference in martial affairs, the authorities not only turned a blind eye to martial artists killing one another, they secretly welcomed it. So calling it legal slaughter wasn’t entirely wrong.
An enemy stepped forward to block the running Cheong. The girl approaching with light, graceful steps had looked like easy prey.
The moment their swords clashed, the instant he saw her blade biting into his own, he realized something had gone terribly wrong.
His sword snapped. The fingers of the left hand he instinctively thrust forward fell away one by one. Then—
Stab.
Agonizing pain flooded in.
Cheong savored the sensation at the tip of her sword. It pierced the soft skin below the solar plexus, tore through the peritoneum, and reached the elastic wall of the stomach. When she exerted just a little force, the stomach split wide open and the digestive juices inside poured out into the body cavity.
When she withdrew the blade, only a small, neat puncture remained beneath the solar plexus. Yet the experience of one’s own gastric acid melting their insides would be quite the thrill.
The pain of having one’s organs dissolve while still alive was not something a person could endure.
The Jeonjin Parangdae member convulsed on the ground without even managing a scream.
Hehe. Must hurt.
Cheong looked down at her handiwork with a wide, gleeful grin.