Chapter 471: The Victims Gather
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 471: The Victims Gather
A shabby manor located on the outskirts of Jinan.
Rattle, rattle.
A single carriage arrived at the main gate.
"What is your business here?"
A gate guard blocking the entrance spoke as the carriage came to a halt.
"My master has come at the host's invitation," the coachman replied in a calm tone.
"And might I ask your master’s name?"
"He is the Great Master Yoon, syllables Kang and Jin."
"My apologies. That name is indeed on the register."
Upon hearing the coachman's reply, the gate guard bowed politely.
"I shall escort you inside. Please dismount from the carriage."
"What?! Are you telling my master to get out and walk?"
The coachman’s expression hardened. The person inside the carriage was his precious teacher and the supreme leader of their sect. How could someone suggest such a person walk like a commoner? It was nothing short of preposterous.
"Carriages are not permitted within the manor. The grounds are narrow, and the Manor Lord has given strict orders not to allow them inside."
The gate guard continued, his expression remaining composed.
"I will not allow it! Step aside at once!"
The coachman raised his voice in anger. What did the opinion of some lowly Manor Lord matter when his master was being forced to walk?
"In that case, your master cannot enter."
"You—!"
Shring!
The coachman drew the Hyeopbong Sword he had kept behind him. The guard’s stubbornness had finally made his temper flare.
"It seems you won't learn until you see your own blood!"
The coachman pointed his sword at the guard, his face flushed with rage.
"Even with a blade at my throat, rules are rules. The carriage shall not pass."
Despite the threat, the gate guard remained unyielding, as if there were no room for compromise.
"Why, you...!"
The coachman thought to himself that this fool needed a proper lesson to come to his senses.
Creak.
"That is enough."
A soft voice drifted from the back of the carriage.
Slide.
The door opened, and a middle-aged man with a gentle impression revealed himself. It was the invited guest, Yoon Kang-jin.
"Master!"
Surprised, the coachman immediately called out to his teacher.
"If those are the rules of the manor, should we not follow them? Why are you so quick to draw your sword?"
Stepping out of the carriage, Yoon Kang-jin began to gently scold his disciple. He seemed displeased by the youth's coarse behavior.
"But, Master..." the coachman started to protest.
"I will hear no more of it! I shall enter the manor alone. You stay here and guard the carriage."
"It is dangerous!" the coachman said, his face turning serious.
"Dangerous? What could be dangerous here? This is Jinan, the seat of the Cheonmu Alliance. What could possibly happen?"
"...Still."
"Enough. Do not be any more disrespectful than you have already been."
Yoon Kang-jin waved his hand dismissively.
"............Understood."
The coachman finally nodded in submission. He could not go against the word of his master, whose authority was as vast as the heavens.
"I apologize. My disciple was quite rude."
Satisfied, Yoon Kang-jin nodded and offered an apology to the gate guard.
"Not at all. How could a disciple's devotion to his master be considered a rudeness?"
"I am grateful for your understanding."
Yoon Kang-jin bowed slightly, showing proper etiquette.
"I shall walk as you requested."
"Understood. I will provide a guide for you."
The gate guard returned the bow and spoke. Yoon Kang-jin nodded and began to follow the guide into the manor.
*
"It is here."
The guide pointed toward a large iron door.
"Thank you."
Yoon Kang-jin gave a short, respectful greeting and slowly pushed the iron door open.
Creeeeeak.
As the door swung wide, countless gazes fell upon him.
"Hah..."
Feeling the weight of those stares, Yoon Kang-jin let out a bewildered chuckle. He had never expected there to be so many others invited besides himself.
"Wait, is that not Sect Leader Yoon?"
Someone recognized him. Yoon Kang-jin turned his head slightly and saw a familiar face.
"Sect Leader Song? What brings you here?"
The man was Song Gyeong, the leader of the Songgeom Sect, a small-to-medium-sized sect located in Shandong Province.
"I was invited to this manor."
"Oho... what a coincidence. I, too, was invited here."
"Is that so? Come, have a seat here."
Song Gyeong patted the chair next to him.
"Then I shall not refuse."
Yoon Kang-jin nodded and moved to sit beside Song Gyeong.
"How long have you been here?"
"Not very long. My carriage arrived a bit earlier than expected."
"Hahaha, I see. By the way, how is your wife faring?"
"Hahahaha, that woman is the same as always."
"And you, Sect Leader Yoon?"
"The same. Nothing ever changes."
The two men, meeting after a long time, began to exchange small talk and pleasantries. They seemed genuinely happy to have crossed paths. After some time had passed, Yoon Kang-jin leaned in and whispered in a low voice.
"Sect Leader Song."
"Speak." Song Gyeong whispered back.
"Were you also invited via a letter?"
"......I was."
"May I ask... what was written in that letter?"
".............It said they would find the culprit who murdered my daughter."
".....So you received the same letter as I did."
Yoon Kang-jin’s expression darkened at Song Gyeong's answer.
"Indeed... At first, I thought it was some cruel joke... but I came here in the spirit of a drowning man grasping at straws."
Song Gyeong spoke with a heavy heart.
"...It seems you are in the same position, Sect Leader Yoon."
"........Yes. I, too, visited this manor out of desperation... to kill Jang Sam, that bastard I wouldn't be satisfied even if I ground his bones to dust."
Yoon Kang-jin’s eyes turned bloodshot as he spat out words filled with deep-seated resentment. His only daughter—the precious child he wouldn't mind putting in his eye—had been killed in the most miserable way possible. He burned with hatred for Jang Sam, the man responsible.
"I see.... I truly hope this isn't a prank.... If someone is playing games using my dead daughter, I don't think I could bear it."
Song Gyeong nodded. His eyes were filled with a rage no less intense than Yoon Kang-jin's. His daughter had left the safety of their home, dreaming of becoming a strategist for the Cheonmu Alliance. But she was found as a cold corpse in a brothel. Worse, she had been found covered in semen and filth, as if vagrants had committed necrophilia on her body after she died.
The day he found his beloved daughter's body, Song Gyeong had taken his sword to the brothel. He cut down the vagrants there, one after another, as if he intended to slaughter every last one of them. He simply couldn't contain the fury rising from the depths of his soul. Though he was eventually dragged away to the Law Enforcement Hall, he didn't regret it for a moment. He believed that among those he killed, at least one must have been responsible for desecrating his daughter's body.
'If this is a joke, I will take their head.'
Song Gyeong vowed as he recalled the past. He would never forgive anyone who toyed with the wounds of those left behind.
It was just as he was hardening his resolve.
Creeeeeak.
The sound of the iron door opening reached their ears. Everyone in the room turned their gaze toward the entrance simultaneously.
"What!?"
Gasps of shock erupted. An entirely unexpected figure had appeared.
Clang!
"Ja Il-gwang! How dare you show your face here!"
Song Gyeong drew the sword at his waist and roared.
"Ja Il-gwang?"
"That Demonic Cult stooge?"
"The traitor who conspired with the cult?"
"Why is such a man here?"
The crowd erupted in turmoil. They had all realized that the man standing before them was the spy who had betrayed the Orthodox Faction for the Demonic Cult.
"What business do you have calling us here? You filthy demonic scum!"
Yoon Kang-jin also drew his sword and shouted. He seemed shocked to realize that the person who promised to find his daughter's killer was a spy for the Demonic Cult.
"Everyone... calm down. You are far too excited."
Ja Il-gwang spoke slowly in a composed tone.
"Calm down? With a piece of demonic filth standing right in front of us!?"
Yoon Kang-jin’s face was flushed with indignation.
"He's right! How can we sit in the same room as a demonic seed!"
"No need for words. Let's just take his head!"
"You dirty dog of the Demonic Cult!"
The crowd joined Yoon Kang-jin, hurling curses.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
One by one, they drew their weapons, threatening Ja Il-gwang. A murderous aura began to permeate the room.
"Do you not want to catch the one who killed your daughters?"
Ja Il-gwang spoke calmly as he watched the scene.
"............"
"............"
The atmosphere, which had been burning like fire, turned icy cold in an instant. It was as if a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over them.
"Do you... do you mean to say you know Jang Sam's whereabouts?"
Yoon Kang-jin asked, his voice trembling with a sliver of hope.
"I do not."
Ja Il-gwang slowly shook his head.
"What!? You don't even know where Jang Sam is, yet you claim you'll catch the killer?"
Yoon Kang-jin roared in anger. He felt as though Ja Il-gwang was mocking him.
"I do not know where Jang Sam is... but I do know the whereabouts of the true culprit who murdered your daughters."
Ja Il-gwang’s cold eyes glinted as he spoke.
"The... the true culprit!?"
Yoon Kang-jin asked back, stunned. The true culprit? Wasn't the serial rapist and murderer the depraved Jang Sam? What was this man talking about?
"What do you mean? The killer is Jang Sam!"
"Wrong. The one who killed your daughter is not Jang Sam."
"Wh-what!?"
Yoon Kang-jin asked in confusion.
"It's not just your daughter. The one who killed the daughters, wives, and lovers of everyone in this room is not Jang Sam."
Ja Il-gwang continued in a level voice.
"What are you saying!?"
"What nonsense is this! The fact that Jang Sam raped and murdered those women was officially announced by the Cheonmu Alliance! How dare you claim he isn't the killer!"
Song Gyeong shouted, unable to believe his ears. It was a fact known to everyone living under the protection of the Cheonmu Alliance. To deny such an official fact was to say the Alliance's announcement couldn't be trusted.
"Is the word of the Cheonmu Alliance always the truth?"
Ja Il-gwang let out a short, mocking laugh.
"Of course it is! The Cheonmu Alliance is led by the hero who saved the Murim, the Greatest of All Time, and the very model of chivalry—the Absolute Martial God, Lee Jae-won! How could anyone doubt a decision made by such an alliance!"
Song Gyeong spoke passionately, glaring at Ja Il-gwang. He had always admired and respected the Alliance Leader, Lee Jae-won. To Song Gyeong, an insult to the Cheonmu Alliance was an insult to Lee Jae-won, and an insult to Lee Jae-won was an insult to himself. He couldn't help but vent his rage.
"Pwahahaha! Hahahaha!"
Suddenly, Ja Il-gwang, who had been listening silently, burst into laughter. As if it were the funniest thing he had ever heard. As if it were utterly ridiculous.
"Hahahaha! Hahaha!"
Soon, tears began to well in the corners of his eyes. It was proof—proof that he wasn't laughing to mock Song Gyeong, but because he was genuinely, hysterically amused.
"What is so funny!"
As Ja Il-gwang continued to laugh without pause, Song Gyeong’s face turned bright red as he shouted. He felt a surge of insult and shame, thinking he was being toyed with.
"Hahaha... I'm sorry... It's just so funny... I couldn't help myself..."
Ja Il-gwang managed to speak while wiping the tears from his eyes.
"You bastard!"
Enraged, Song Gyeong raised his sword high. He looked ready to strike down the insolent Ja Il-gwang right then and there.
"It was Lee Jae-won."
Suddenly, the laughter vanished from Ja Il-gwang’s face, replaced by a cold, hard expression.
"What are you talking about!"
"The true culprit."
He looked directly at Song Gyeong with an incredibly serious gaze.
"The true culprit who raped and murdered your daughter, Song Yeon-su, and dumped her in a brothel so that even her corpse couldn't be preserved in peace... is the very man you so admire and call a model of chivalry: Lee Jae-won!"
Ja Il-gwang roared, his voice thick with resentment and fury. His words were saturated with a deep, agonizing bitterness.