Chapter 17
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Twin-Handed Four Ghosts
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"Today, the Red Ying Dagger has finally met its proper master."
"So this one's called the Red Ying Dagger?"
"We used rosewood for the hilt, hence the name. It might look plain compared to the others, but this rosewood dagger is actually the most expensive one here."
"How much for the Red Ying Dagger?"
"It's normally six silver taels, but you seem to know your daggers, so I'll knock off one tael for you."
It might've originally been priced at five, but since money wasn't an issue, I just accepted it without haggling.
Next up were the throwing knives.
They came in a leather sheath that strapped over the shoulder, designed to hold up to five knives.
I tried one on and asked the smith.
"Mind if I test throwing one?"
"Of course. Feel free—aim over there."
A portrait of a man hung on the wall at the spot he indicated.
Judging by how tattered it was, it seemed like someone the owner despised.
"Who's that?"
"My landlord."
That made perfect sense.
I hurled a throwing knife.
It looked like a casual flick, but it struck dead center on the portrait's eyes, nose, and mouth.
The balance was spot-on when thrown, and the edge was razor-sharp.
The young smith might've been inexperienced in years, but his skill rivaled the craftsmen of the Demonic Cult.
"These knives are perfectly balanced too. I'll take them."
"Anything else you need? Take a look inside the forge."
Following his invitation, I glanced around the forge and spotted something familiar.
It was a pair of leather gloves reinforced with metal plates.
Unlike medieval European gauntlets, the plates covered only the back of the hand and fingers.
They looked just like MMA gloves.
'If I cut off the finger parts, they'd be perfect for ground fighting without any issues. Who'd have thought I'd find MMA gloves in the Central Plains? Gotta buy these!'
"How much for these?"
"Haha, these were just a fun experiment... We call them Hand Iron Fists. Two silver taels."
For something made on a whim, he was pricing it a bit high, but since it was rare, I paid without complaint.
Then my eyes landed on one more item.
It was called a Sword Stopper Band—a leather arm guard with thick metal rods spaced at intervals, enough to block an enemy's blade in a pinch.
Given that I often had to face armed warriors bare-handed, it looked incredibly useful.
"I'll take it all."
By the time I finished shopping, it was already late for lunch.
I hurried off toward the provincial capital of Sichuan Province, where the Imperial Palace Martial Academy lay.
Two days into my journey to Sichuan, and I still hadn't run into any bandits or highway robbers.
It was ridiculous.
Anyone could tell I looked like a martial artist now, and that's why not a single robber had crossed my path.
'Just changing my appearance has this much effect.'
Those guys who'd jumped me before must've pegged me as some fresh-faced bumpkin straight from the mountains.
At first, it was a relief, but now it felt downright boring.
'Kinda dull, huh?'
Just as the trip started feeling monotonous...
A familiar face appeared ahead of me.
'Huh? That guy?'
No mistaking it—Yang Cho-gun.
Perfect timing to shake off the boredom, so I called out cheerfully.
"Hey~ Yang!"
He froze, then turned slowly.
His eyes screamed, 'What the hell are you doing here?'
I was just as curious why he'd popped up here.
'...No way?'
One possibility clicked into place.
I pointed at him and said,
"You don't mean... you're headed there too?"
Yang Cho-gun pointed back at me.
"No way? You too?"
"Something like that."
"'Something'? Either you are or you aren't."
No need to spell out that I was going for the White-Clothed Youth Corps, so I just laughed it off.
"Hahaha..."
With that awkward chuckle behind us, we continued on our way.
Since we were headed the same place, no point splitting up—we just walked together in unspoken agreement.
But this guy hardly spoke.
Hardly? He was dead silent.
I'm not much of a talker myself, but he took it to another level—no conversation at all.
It was no different from traveling alone.
Baek Yi-ho was the total opposite, a real chatterbox.
As I pondered this and that while walking, I spotted three men blocking our path ahead.
'What? Bandits at last?'
But I quickly sensed they weren't common thugs.
Their presence dwarfed any mere bandits.
The chilling glare and killing intent pouring from their eyes.
These were skilled martial artists.
One carried twin swords on his back, another wielded twin axes, and the last held twin sickles.
Axes and sickles weren't common in orthodox martial arts, so they had to be unorthodox fighters.
I wondered if the Overlord Sect had sent assassins.
Even the righteous factions sometimes hired unorthodox killers for discreet hits, since they lacked official assassin groups.
But sadly, these guests weren't here for me.
"Looks like they're here for me. Sorry about this—you're getting dragged into trouble on my account."
"Finally, we meet, you bastard swordsman."
"The name's Yang Cho-gun."
"You kill our little brother and think you can live easy?"
"Never had it easy."
"Shut your trap! Why'd you kill our little brother? And him a fellow bounty hunter!"
"He had a bounty on his head. What'd you expect?"
"Did it have to be one bounty hunter to another?"
"It wouldn't have been an issue if he hadn't killed that innocent civilian. My fault?"
'Hold on—these guys? Twin swords, twin axes, twin sickles?'
In that moment, it hit me who they were.
After possessing this body, one of my first missions had been an assassination order on them.
"Ah! I remember! The Twin-Handed Four Ghosts!"
"Ho? Not bad—you've got an eye for this. You know us..."
Their "little brother" they mentioned was the twin-spear guy who'd racked up huge gambling debts at the Demonic Cult's secret Luoyang casino, murdered the man who'd cleaned him out, and fled. These were his brothers.
The Cult had issued a hit on him back then, but it got canceled out of the blue.
Reason being, the victim's family slapped a massive bounty on him, and another hunter beat us to the punch.
Thanks to that, I'd lounged around the sub-branch doing nothing.
'So the guy who made my life easy back then was Yang Cho-gun? The mission brief said that target was first-rate, so if Yang took him down, this guy's first-rate too. Impressive.'
"Let this man go."
"Can't do that. He knows who we are now. Bad luck for him."
"Hmph, killing witnesses... This isn't just your fight anymore."
"My apologies. But I'll handle them alone."
"Even so, there are three of them. You sure?"
Yang Cho-gun stepped forward without a word.
'Alright, let's see what he's got.'
Yang drew his rapier.
Shing—
He assumed an unusual stance.
He pulled his right hand—gripping the rapier—up to his chin, then thrust it straight out while slightly raising his left arm.
Grace poured from him.
And once set, it was pure fencing form.
I didn't know much about fencing, but it matched what I'd seen in the Olympics.
One odd thing stood out, though.
The internal energy radiating from him was pure martial arts qi.
'What a weirdo this guy is.'
I wondered how a Central Plains native—complete with qi—had learned European swordsmanship.
'Eh, I'll ask later. Looks like it's about to start.'
While I mused, the trio clashed with Yang.
Kiring! Chaeng! Chaechaeng! Chaeng!
This duel for revenge had no shred of honor, even if you scoured for it.
The three ganged up, pressing Yang from all sides.
The eldest's twin swords slashed in an X, while his brothers' axes and sickle targeted his legs and neck.
But Yang's movements were faster.
He flipped through the air repeatedly, dodging their strikes.
The Twin-Handed Four Ghosts hounded him relentlessly, forming a linked assault formation.
They'd hunted prey like this plenty before—their coordination was seamless.
One drove him back, the other two closed in like interlocking gears.
Wriggling through their midst like a weasel—that's what Yang looked like.
Finally, the eldest spat a curse laced with frustration.
"How long you gonna run, you rat?!"
"Your reputation's blown way out of proportion. I had high hopes, but you're nothing special."
"W-what? You punk! A year ago, you were a greenhorn who couldn't even wipe your own ass, and now you're all high and mighty?!"
"That's why I held back. Until I could kill him for sure."
"Held back? Y-you... You've been plotting revenge ever since?!"
"You insulted my master. You should've been prepared to lose your heads."
"You crazy bastard! Over some childish joke, you killed our little brother?!"
"Childish joke? He said you're all into men, so your martial arts must've been taught up your asses. That a joke?"
I couldn't help but sigh.
"Yeah, they deserved to die. Your little brother crossed the line."
Infuriated by my comment, the third Ghost glared daggers and spewed double curses at me.
"Shut it, you! A dead man hastening his own end!"
"Ooh, scary."
Yang, who'd kept his distance, shifted stance and spoke.
"I've seen enough of your skills. Time to end this."
From pure defense, Yang flipped to offense in an instant.
He parried incoming strikes with his rapier's flat, launching sharp counters.
Chaeaeaeng—Pit! Pik!
"Gahk!"
Yang's rapier breezed past the eldest's twin blades, and blood sprayed from wounds across his body.
The eldest's eyes bulged wide.
"F-f-fast!"