Explain Yourself
“Explain.”
“Th-the Poison Lord, you say?”
Yang Cheondeok's composure cracked visibly. He had been born and raised in Sichuan, where the standing of the Tang Clan was nothing short of regal—fit for a king. And this was no minor figure. Dokgun, the Poison Lord, was the most senior elder of the Tang Family, wielding power second only to the Clan Head, the Poison King himself. His martial prowess ranked among the ten finest in all of Chengdu. Considering that Chengdu also housed formidable factions like the Thousand Poisons Alliance, Mount Emei, and the Qingcheng Sect, that alone spoke volumes about how dangerous a man he was.
“Don't tell me you two are acquainted with the Poison Lord?”
Yang Cheondeok's tone grew markedly more careful. If these two were friends of the Poison Lord, every scheme simmering in his mind would have to be scrapped on the spot.
Fortunately for him, Jin Seongun simply shook his head. There was no reason to go out of his way to mention his ties to the Tang Family in a place like this. Truthfully, all Jin Seongun wanted was to satisfy his curiosity about the martial might of a man called the Thousand Poisons Alliance Leader.
“The Poison Lord versus the Thousand Poisons Alliance Leader…”
Yang Cheondeok deliberated with a grave face. One was the sovereign of Sichuan's underworld; the other, one of the supreme masters of the Sichuan Tang Clan. Both were beings far beyond anything a man of his caliber could presume to predict.
“I couldn't say who'd win, but neither would take the other lightly. That's my read on it, at least.”
It was a reasonable enough judgment in its own way. Jin Seongun was disappointed by the vague answer.
“I see.”
Jin Seongun stared straight at Yang Cheondeok. Internally, the man's stomach tightened. There was only one reason he was answering questions so obediently—the formation needed time to activate. Yet the look in Jin Seongun's eyes now seemed to say there was nothing left worth asking.
So Yang Cheondeok hurried to fill the silence.
“You two. Would you care to join hands with me?”
It was such an abrupt question that Jin Seongun and Seo Yugyeom exchanged a glance, then fixed their eyes on Yang Cheondeok—a look that seemed to dare him to spout more nonsense. Yang Cheondeok, undeterred, pressed on.
“The Hwaun Merchant Group will collapse within a fortnight at the latest. There's no reason to hide it anymore—I've said as much already. And besides, you two had no reason to provoke the Thousand Poisons Alliance in the first place.”
“……”
“I'll grant that your martial skill is high. And I'll admit that our Saryonggang's strength falls short of the other black way rats in Deokyang.”
“Willingness to admit it. That's rather admirable.”
Jin Seongun's artlessly sincere interjection warmed Yang Cheondeok's heart a little. But he was a thoroughly calculating man; he never let emotion wreck his business.
“You two become my friends and lend your strength to the Saryonggang. Think about it. When Hwaun falls, who stands to seize the largest share of its interests? The gloomy assassins of Blue Night Valley? The debauched black ways of Twilight Pavilion? The ignorant, simpleminded, uncivilized fallen monks of Mukyang who hate thinking and reap nothing but trouble?”
He named them one by one—Blue Night Valley, Twilight Pavilion, and Mukyang Gate. Blue Night Valley was an assassin collective; Twilight Pavilion, orthodox underworld built on commercial muscle; and Mukyang Gate, a black way sect made up of monks who had abandoned their precepts.
Jin Seongun listened quietly, and Yang Cheondeok's words came faster and faster.
“It's us. The Saryonggang. They sneer at us as mere money-grubbers, but the moment Hwaun is dismantled, they'll learn just how terrifying money truly is.”
“So what you're saying, sect leader, is that if we help, you'll split the profits with us.”
Yang Cheondeok jabbed his index finger sharply toward Jin Seongun.
“Exactly that. You win, I win—no losses for anyone, only gains. The whole board might turn over. Not the Four Great Black Way Factions of Deokyang anymore…”
“……”
“…but the Deokyang branch of the Thousand Poisons Alliance. I'd be branch leader. You two would be, what, elders, I suppose.”
Talking off the top of his head, Yang Cheondeok found himself increasingly absorbed in his own words. For something spat out on the spot, wasn't it actually rather good?
In truth, he had an inferiority complex gnawing at him. The assassins of Blue Night Valley frightened him, and so did the fallen monks of Mukyang Gate. But the most frightening of all was the leader of Twilight Pavilion—that orthodox black way. Twilight Pavilion's man had literally rolled up from the very bottom of the underworld to build his power. Men like that carried a certain air about them, even as heads of a small sect.
“The way I see it, the two of you wouldn't be outmatched even by the Twilight Pavilion leader.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely. My brains plus your martial might—put those together and something truly remarkable will happen.”
Jin Seongun nodded along, and the more he did, the wider Yang Cheondeok's grin curled.
Then Jin Seongun spoke up. “There's one important thing, though.”
“Ask away freely.”
Yang Cheondeok replied as he refilled the cups of Jin Seongun and Seo Yugyeom. He hadn't actually poisoned anything, and being suspected of it stung his pride a little.
“You say the Thousand Poisons Alliance is so powerful. Then why doesn't it pressure Hwaun Merchant Group directly? Why hand the job to weaklings like you? Once everything is done, what's to stop the Alliance from going back on its word?”
It was a fair suspicion. Going through the Deokyang black ways only meant splitting the profits for no reason. Worse, even if Hwaun were successfully toppled, nothing ruled out the Alliance swooping in afterward and seizing everything for itself.
Yang Cheondeok let out a sly chuckle.
“Sharp point. Yes, you're right—but you've overlooked something. We were, and still are, extremely close to Hwaun Merchant Group.”
“Explain in detail.”
Yang Cheondeok hesitated. Was it wise to spill such inner secrets to outsiders? But if he ended up joining hands with them, it wouldn't matter—and if they tried to kill him, he'd need the formation anyway, so time was time either way. After a brief deliberation, he opened his mouth.
“We black ways of Deokyang grew fat on Hwaun's money. Precisely speaking, the money of the previous merchant leader—the one who's dead and buried.”
Seo Yugyeom, who had been listening in silence all this while, flinched. The previous leader of Hwaun—his adoptive father—had been killed by none other than him.
Yang Cheondeok looked at Seo Yugyeom. “What's the matter?”
“Ignore whatever I do. Unless you want to die.”
“……”
What a lunatic, Yang Cheondeok swallowed a curse. But his patience still had plenty of room left.
“We grew up eating his money, and in return, we stepped up for him whenever he needed us. That arrangement went back a long way. And in the process, we steadily collected ledgers capable of proving every fraud and act of corruption inside Hwaun Merchant Group.”
“You're trash.”
“Precisely. We are trash. So what?”
“……”
Jin Seongun stared for a moment at the man proudly claiming to be trash. With a response like that, there was nothing more to be said.
Yang Cheondeok, feeling victorious for the first time in a long while, continued.
“That's exactly why the Alliance is using us. We hold every piece of information and every condition needed to bring Hwaun down. We already have countless people planted inside the merchant group.”
“……”
“Even if it all comes to an end, the Thousand Poisons Alliance can't touch us. Their deterrent power is what keeps other factions from interfering—but we? We're the very justification for seizing Hwaun itself.”
Jin Seongun watched Yang Cheondeok's shifty, darting eyes and thought: So greedy opportunists come regardless of whether one's martial arts are high or low.
“Little Hero, what will you do?”
Jin Seongun asked Seo Yugyeom, who had kept a subtly withdrawn posture throughout the conversation. But now that the deep entanglement between Hwaun and Deokyang's black ways had come to light, he couldn't let it pass unasked.
Seo Yugyeom, with a rare seriousness, pondered for a moment before speaking.
“Those ledgers of yours. You'll have to show them to us too. Otherwise we can't trust you enough to lend you our strength.”
Yang Cheondeok's face twisted violently. How could he possibly show such priceless information to outsiders? Even with his greed-blinded eyes, that crossed a line. He was a covetous man, not a fool.
“Well, that's…”
“Refuse, and die now.”
Thunk—!
Seo Yugyeom drew the Heaven-Killing Short Saber from his coat and slammed it into the table. Yang Cheondeok couldn't even follow the motion with his eyes. There had only been a sharp ring in the air, and now a blade stood quivering in the wood.
Yang Cheondeok stared at the short saber. A chill, like someone dragging ice along the nape of his neck, seeped through his whole body.
The distinctive killing intent of the Heavenly Killing Star. Seo Yugyeom was deliberately withholding none of it, pressing Yang Cheondeok down with it.
“Choose. Join hands for certain, or let's settle this here and now.”
Seo Yugyeom was a master at handling people. A lifetime lived as an assassin had drilled every manner of training into him—and psychological pressure to cloud a target's reason was the ABCs of the trade.
He let out a low murmur.
“Three….”
“?”
Yang Cheondeok looked at him with trembling pupils. The corner of Seo Yugyeom's mouth twisted.
“Two….”
His hand drifted slowly toward the saber's hilt. Yang Cheondeok's heart pounded as if it would burst.
The instant Seo Yugyeom's fingers closed on the blade—
“Let's go!”
Yang Cheondeok shouted.
Seo Yugyeom smoothly pulled the Heaven-Killing Short Saber free. Yang Cheondeok hastily raised his qi and hunched his shoulders—
—but the saber simply returned to Seo Yugyeom's coat.
“……”
“Let's go see it, then.”
Seo Yugyeom rose from his seat. Yang Cheondeok stared at him for a long moment, then finally let out a deep sigh.
The Saryonggang compound was an enormous estate. Naturally, its main hall rivaled those of any great family in the region.
Yang Cheondeok led the way down a long corridor, sinking deeper and deeper into thought. He hadn't racked his brains this hard in ages—his head felt as though it might cramp. A voice drifted from behind him.
“Lead us somewhere strange, and you won't find it funny.”
“……”
“No answer. So it's true, then.”
“As if I would. I can't help but agonize over this. These are ledgers I've never once shown an outsider. I no longer know if this is the right thing to do.”
Lies, after all, are best hidden between truths. His professed worry was genuine—but not merely about whether to show the ledgers or not.
Should he lead them to the underground chamber where the ledgers lay, or out to the rear garden where the formation was set? Once they were trapped inside the formation, he could kill them without question. It had cost him a truly staggering sum—even by the standards of a man as wealthy as Yang Cheondeok.
And yet the words he had spouted so carelessly earlier had, to his own surprise, sounded tempting even to him. If he could truly secure the strength of these two, the valley master of Blue Night, the pavilion leader of Twilight, the abbot of Mukyang—all the men who had looked down on him—would no longer hold any terror.
Step, step.
In the silence, the footsteps of the three men rang out with unusual loudness. To Yang Cheondeok, the sound of his own heartbeat seemed louder still. Fortunately, they couldn't hear that too—they were walking a fair distance behind him.
- His heart is beating very fast.
- How in the hell would you even know that.
As Seo Yugyeom followed behind Yang Cheondeok, he shot Jin Seongun a unsettled look. Jin Seongun merely shrugged.
- Sound.
Just like back at Deokyang Inn. He had simply heard it.
Yang Cheondeok stopped before a door. Jin Seongun and Seo Yugyeom waited behind him.
“Here it is. Promise me—whatever you see in here, you speak of it to no one but me.”
“A promise.”
“……”
Yang Cheondeok let out a small sigh. The door soon swung open, revealing a small, square secret chamber. All four of its walls were lined with bookshelves, each crammed densely with volumes of every kind.
“Go on in.”
Yang Cheondeok gestured toward the chamber. Seo Yugyeom eyed him with narrowed eyes.
“You first.”
“…This is too much, even for you. First the poisoned wine, then doubting a man in the middle of a grand decision—and now you want me to enter first?”
Instead of answering, Seo Yugyeom drew the Heaven-Killing Short Saber. Yang Cheondeok shut his mouth, glared at him, then turned and stepped inside.
“Satisfied now?”
“Yep.”
The two men nodded and entered the chamber. Nothing happened. Clicking his tongue softly, Yang Cheondeok pulled several volumes from the shelves and set them on the desk.
“Have a look. The past ten years of everything Hwaun Merchant Group and the Saryonggang did together should be recorded in these.”
Suddenly, the two men strode to the desk. The moment Seo Yugyeom's fingers touched the cover of a volume—
Whoom—!
The floor holding the desk and both men dropped away, vanishing as if swallowed whole.
“……”
Yang Cheondeok, his curled grin frozen, stared blankly straight ahead. Above the collapsed floor—that is, in empty air—Jin Seongun was standing.
The realm of Void-Treading Steps. Yang Cheondeok realized at once that the young man before him was a master of the Transcendental Realm.
Jin Seongun was staring down at the floor. Below yawned a darkness as black as ink, stretching endlessly downward.
The instant the floor gave way, he had seized for Seo Yugyeom—but all that remained in his hand was a torn scrap of the man's sleeve. Seo Yugyeom had vanished in a blink, as if some immense force were dragging him down from beneath his feet.
In fact, there was no scream, no sound of a table breaking—only a strange, alien energy being caught in Jin Seongun's qi perception.
Something is down there.
Jin Seongun was hardly a scholar of murim history, and formations were something he had never seen or even heard of. Making sense of the situation was proving difficult.
He lifted his head and met Yang Cheondeok's eyes.
“Explain.”
At that moment, the strength drained from Yang Cheondeok's legs, and he crumpled to the floor.