Chapter 59
"If you hire an escort bureau to handle the job, then of course you pay the price!"
"The long age of humiliation and oppression ends today! Our Baekmun Express will return to the glory it once had!"
As the top dogs of Baekmun Express shouted with swagger, the escorts drew their weapons.
Clang-clang-clang!
That heavy, icy sound.
It was a feeling I’d gotten used to by now.
They’d already been warned, so the escorts didn’t panic.
"Follow those two!"
"Kill the cult bastards!"
Instead, they moved in perfect formation, just as they’d agreed beforehand.
"Cut the bridge!"
"Yes, sir!"
At Bang Dupil’s order, one of the escorts brought his blade down.
Crack!
As the bridge connecting the two boats was severed, the vessel the demonic cultists had ridden in on began to drift away, inch by inch.
Clack, clack.
And just like that, the escorts closed in and surrounded the cultists.
There were six of them in all, Sama Ryeong included.
After losing the demonic-righteous war, there was no way the scattered remnants of the cult would be wandering around in large numbers.
By contrast, Baekmun Express had twenty escorts forming the encirclement, and that was not counting the few exceptions.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Even in the middle of all this, eight more escorts climbed up from beneath the deck after rowing the boat forward.
What the hell were they still rowing for now that they were about to start hacking each other to pieces?
"You chose the place where you’ll die yourself."
Parting the escorts, Bang Dupil stepped forward.
It hadn’t been Bang Dupil who chose today’s meeting place. It had been Sama Ryeong.
And the reason he’d picked some spot in the middle of the river was easy enough to guess.
On land, too many eyes were watching, but out on the water, that wasn’t the case.
For people who lived in the shadows, preferring the latter was natural — but then, so was it for someone dreaming of revenge.
Here, it would be easy to hide the fact that they were tied to the demonic cult, and there was also nowhere to run.
"Give it up. There’s nowhere for you to flee."
The escorts pointing their weapons at Bang Dupil tightened the noose.
But even in that situation, Sama Ryeong and the cultists remained calm.
"Bang Dupil. You’re crossing the line."
Sama Ryeong spoke in a low voice.
"How dare a dog pull a stunt like this? Have you lost your mind?"
"My mind has never been clearer."
Bang Dupil growled in a deep voice.
Killing intent burst from him, but then he shook his head as if dismissing something tiresome and raised a finger.
"No, from what I can see, it’s you who’ve briefly forgotten your place."
"Now, look down there."
Then he pointed beneath them with that same finger.
Tap.
"See what’s below?"
At their feet lay the wooden box Bang Dupil had smashed to pieces, along with fragments of Jamsungdan.
"Lick those up like the dogs you are, and I’ll let this go. Remember your place."
The sneer in his voice carried the clear message: what the hell are you going to do about it?
It was the kind of insult that should have made anyone explode on the spot, but Bang Dupil instead let out a strangely relieved sigh.
"Hoo... Thank you for erasing the last hesitation left in my heart."
"What?"
"Just in case, I should tell you — that corpse was my son."
"That pig head is your son? I thought you brought it here to make some kind of offering."
At the word pig, Sama Ryeong’s eyelid twitched.
"...Do you have anything to say?"
"Let’s see. Judging by those sword marks, it looks like one of our cult members did it. Your son must’ve done something worth killing over, then."
The cultists of the noble Heavenly Demon Sect, unlike the inferior people of the Central Plains, never made mistakes.
"Ah, don’t be too sad. Your pig head—no, your son—must have washed away the sins of this life thanks to our member’s mercy and headed off to the Pure Land."
"......"
He realized every word was sincere, and that made him fall silent.
He had prepared himself for revenge, but somewhere in his heart there’d still been a sliver of unease.
And now that unease was gone.
He hadn’t expected an apology or a confession, but that attitude alone was unforgivable.
There was no point exchanging words with these cult bastards.
"Enough talk. No more words — now it’s blood for blood! I, Bang Dupil, White-Serpent Asura, will collect the debt in blood!"
"Follow the bureau chief!"
Baekmun Express charged all at once.
"Hah..."
Seeing them rush him like wild boars, Sama Ryeong sighed in disbelief.
The reason he’d remained so relaxed even in a situation like this was the addictive effect of Jamsungdan.
Once someone was hooked on the drug, the leash was effectively in his own hands.
Jamsungdan turned the supplier into the one in power and the user into the subordinate.
"...Looks like you don’t need that drug anymore? Go fetch it for me!"
"You eat that crap yourself, you bastard!!"
Sama Ryeong pulled out another Jamsungdan pill and threw it over the side of the boat, but Bang Dupil didn’t even look at it.
If anyone had told him he’d ever see a sight like this, he would’ve laughed in their face.
"I’ll slaughter you!"
"How absurd."
With a metallic rasp, he placed a hand on the sword at his waist and drew it.
A ferocious, alien qi unlike the energy of ordinary martial artists gathered along the blade.
Flash! Bang!
The moment the sword was drawn, a massive shockwave burst out.
Zzzzt—!
Bang Dupil wrapped his arm in protective qi to block the sword strike, but his body was still driven backward.
The power was considerable, befitting demonic qi.
Seeing him rush forward again without hesitation, an almost impossible possibility flashed through Sama Ryeong’s mind.
"Don’t tell me... you quit the drug?"
"Took you long enough to figure it out!"
Bang Dupil unleashed his fist aura and drove his fist straight at the blade.
Crack!
Fist and blade collided.
Boom! Boom-boom!
"We’ll handle the other ones!"
"Bring those things over here!"
With the duel between their leaders underway, the escorts moved busily about.
"We’re moving too."
"Yes, yes, sir!"
And among them, those with a different purpose began to move as well.
* * *
"Throw it!"
At Chief Escort Master Ma Song’s order, the escorts hurled their nets.
"....."
Swish-swish-swish!
The nets slammed over the cultists, but countless sword lines flashed through the air and tore them apart.
The cultists’ blades and claws shredded them to pieces.
"Don’t mind it! Keep throwing!"
Ma Song kept ordering them to throw more nets.
What mattered most when dealing with a martial artist?
Just like when I’d fought Geom Mujin and Moyong Yehwa before, it was taking away their mobility.
A martial artist who unleashed their steps with a body strengthened by the mysterious power of qi was a pain in the ass.
What happened if you made an already light body even lighter and let them keep swinging a sword around?
And these were famous maniacal demons, too.
If they weren’t planning to fight here and die, then this part of the job was absolutely essential.
Flap! Flap!
The nets kept flying.
Each time, the cultists shredded them, but the torn scraps fell beneath their feet.
It was a medium-sized merchant ship, but with five of them packed into one place, the debris piled up in the cramped space.
Without anyone realizing it, the mess narrowed the cultists’ room to move.
No matter what martial art it was, if the lower body couldn’t support it, the force wouldn’t land properly.
If they got caught in the net as is, they’d be stabbed to death on the spot; even if they failed, the nets would still chew away at the opponent.
In that sense, swords and nets were a broken combination. (Not always effective.)
Apparently, at some gladiator arena far out in the Western Regions, the combo was so broken and unfun that they’d even banned the use of swords and nets together.
Swish-swish-swish!
They’d already burned through ten nets, but the cultists’ attacks hadn’t wavered in the slightest.
"Nets! Bring me more nets!"
"Yes! Move!"
"Y-yesh...!"
Ma Song shouted at the two escorts assigned to supply duty.
The escorts went to pull more nets from the wooden crates set up in back—
Clunk. Clunk.
"Damn it! Is it caught on something!?"
"I-it won’t come outtt...!"
As if snagged on something, the net refused to come out of the crate halfway through.
"What are you doing!? Hurry up and bring it!"
Just then, another escort nearby snapped at them.
He was the escort who had led the men searching Chilseongsan.
As soon as the nets stopped, the cultists began closing the distance, and his face had gone pale blue.
"Ghh...! Give me a hand here! The two of us can’t do it alone!"
"Ugh! Seriously!"
The escort grumbled and walked over to the two.
"H-Here, just grab this tightly..."
"Like this?"
He took hold of the net along with the other two.
"Then on three. One, two..."
Riiip.
"Huh?"
Without thinking, the escort gave a tug, and the net slid smoothly out of the crate.
"W-what? It comes out just fi—"
"I said three."
Tap-tap.
The escort sensed something was off, but in the blink of an eye, his vital and speech points were struck.
"Why are you moving on two and making a scene?"
"Nnngh...!"
His paralyzed body collapsed onto the deck.
"Heh heh. That’s your fault for giving off such a lewd smell."
The escort who’d struck the pressure points let out a sinister laugh and reached for the other man’s waistband.
"Mmmph..! Mmph!"
Some instinctive part of me recoiled at the thought of another man laying hands on my sacred zone, but there was nothing he could do.
Clatter.
"I’m taking this."
Escort—Geom Mujin pocketed the bundle of keys hanging from the other escort’s waistband.
The second I got on the ship, they’d been waving them around so blatantly it had practically made my fingers itch.
They were basically begging me to steal them, seriously.
"Gngh...! W-Where are we going now?"
Dang Seorin asked as she stuffed the pressure-point-stricken escort into the crate.
"Down below."
I pointed to the lower deck of the merchant ship.
From the moment I’d boarded, I’d already used my qi sense to check everyone’s positions.
Even the escorts who’d been rowing were above deck now, so the only presence trapped below was in one place.
Though for some reason, I’m picking up three presences instead of two.
Well, I’d find out once we got there.
"Let’s hurry."
Having secured the key bundle, we opened the hatch in the ship’s floor and slipped inside.
In the frantic battle overhead, nobody noticed that the two of us had vanished.
"You went to get nets and died out there, didn’t you!!"
No one answered Ma Song’s anguished shout.
* * *
Back to the present.
"W-we came to rescue you..."
After all that, she unlocked the door and opened it with proud, almost regal confidence.
"Seorin! I knew I could count on you!"
"Miss Seorin, I knew you’d pull it off. I never doubted you for a second."
Dang Yulin and Hayoung both lit up with joy.
It felt like the conversation from just half an hour ago had been a lie.
"No, but Seorin, you actually made it all the way here?"
The joy was brief before curiosity came flooding in for Dang Yulin.
She was happy her little sister had come to save them, sure, but that didn’t make the question any less strange.
Judging by the outfit, she looked like she’d disguised herself to sneak in — but did my little sister really do that?
"I-I actually got help from a certain great hero..."
"A great hero?"
Before the question could settle, Geom Mujin came up behind Dang Seorin.
"Save the stories for later. Untie these shackles first."
"Ah! Y-yes..."
At his words, Dang Seorin clutched the key bundle and hurried toward the two of them.
Seeing her reaction, it seemed the man behind her was the so-called great hero who’d helped her.
"I’ll have you free in just a moment..."
"Mm-hm. Thanks."
I didn’t know who he was, but I’d better accept the kindness—
Crack!
A rather unpleasant sound came from the key she was trying to shove into the lock.
"Miss Dang?"
"Seorin?"
Staring at the key, which had snapped cleanly in the middle, Dang Seorin’s face looked like it might melt.
"Ahh...! Aaaah..."