Chapter 100
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Return (2)
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“Dorung, huh...”
What did Dorung say?
He yapped so much my head started throbbing.
Apparently, he said he'd met you before?
He was shaking like a leaf in fear.
And get this—even the mighty Gale Wind Demon, top dog of the Shaanxi branch, finds you unsettling.
How did he describe you?
A ghost's shadow in the mist?
A demonic wail from a tiger's howl?
So, what's your deal?
What the hell have you been up to!
Flying Tiger shook his head firmly, calming his boiling emotions.
“Who knows? On the brink of death, a man'll babble anything. But his mutterings were so faint and garbled, I couldn't make out a damn word.”
Flying Tiger brushed it off with feigned innocence as he stared straight at Jin Ga-yong. The other man's eyes still looked utterly sincere.
Yeah, those eyes.
He didn't want to lose faith in them yet.
That was why he'd lied.
Jin Ga-yong's expression softened ambiguously as he tossed out another question.
“I see. Well then, do you have anything else you want to say to me?”
“Hm, your cup's empty. Another round?”
When Jin Ga-yong held out his cup, Flying Tiger poured this time.
Glug, glug.
As he did, he asked casually,
“By the way, what’s a 'Ghost Shell'?”
“Ghost Shell?”
“The boss mentioned it. When that dying Wang Guardian mustered his final burst of defiance and clutched the White Horse Lantern.”
“...!”
Flying Tiger had tossed around words like “final defiance,” but he didn't believe humans could summon such fury after their hearts were literally ripped out.
From his perspective, Wang Baek-gun was dead. Flat-out gone. Maybe something dramatic brought him back for a moment.
Or made him seem to move.
Sounds far-fetched? Sure, but...
He'd overlooked it in the chaos at the time, but Jin Ga-yong had clearly been shocked when he uttered the word “Ghost Shell.”
The Ghost Shell—one of the Shaanxi Ghost Three Treasures, legendary divine armors known as the “Ghost Armor.”
Rumor had it those treasures held extraordinary powers, so maybe that was why the dead Wang Baek-gun twitched back to life, if only briefly?
Too much of a leap?
But what really piqued Flying Tiger's curiosity was something else.
First off, what had Jin Ga-yong seen on Wang Baek-gun to think of the Ghost Shell?
As far as Flying Tiger knew, the Ghost Three Treasures were armors, yet Wang Baek-gun hadn't been wearing any. He'd confirmed it right down to the corpse.
More importantly, regardless of whether it was real or not, Jin Ga-yong knew about the Ghost Shell—and by extension, the Ghost Three Treasures.
His sect, Ye Mountain's Zhao Family Manor, had supposedly guarded a Ghost Treasure for ages, so maybe old records revealed the details.
That was why he'd asked.
Second, what answer would come from Jin Ga-yong's mouth now?
A dodge?
Truth? Or a lie?
As the ancients said, judge a man by one thing and know ten. It fit the moment perfectly.
In other words, Jin Ga-yong's response would prompt a full reassessment.
So Flying Tiger waited.
And Jin Ga-yong, looking troubled, pondered before replying.
“You must've overheard me blurt it out in shock. Hm, I've never seen a Ghost Shell myself, but I know a fair bit. If you want, I can tell you. But... can you handle it?”
“...?”
“You may or may not know, but my Zhao Family Manor has suffered endlessly because we once held one of those Ghost Three Treasures. From people who don't even know what it is. The situations aren't identical, of course, but if you learn about them from me, folks around you will start hounding you. Still want to know?”
“Better off in the dark, you mean?”
“Exactly. Think it over carefully first. If you're still curious after, I'll share what I know. But only after this mission ends.”
Doubt flickered in Flying Tiger at Jin Ga-yong's words.
His expression and tone seemed straightforward—no hidden agenda, just laying out the facts.
But sharing info one-on-one, and suddenly outsiders hound him?
How would anyone even know?
For that to happen, either Jin Ga-yong or Flying Tiger would have to blab. He wasn't seriously quoting that old proverb about birds hearing daytime secrets and rats nighttime ones, was he?
Then his final words nagged at him.
Why wait until after the mission? What changes then... Ah!
Jin Ga-yong eyed the increasingly pensive Flying Tiger calmly, lifted his fresh cup, and spoke coolly(?).
At least, that's how it sounded to Flying Tiger.
“For the record, that thing on Guardian Wang? Not a Ghost Shell. A shoddy fake. Or a failed knockoff.”
Clink~
They toasted a second time, and it was the last clash of cups that night.
Leaving Jin Ga-yong alone, Flying Tiger rose first.
His mind in turmoil, he circled the inn's perimeter. A cold wind whistled through his thoughts.
Questions piled up, but one fact stood clear.
Before reentering the inn, he glanced up. The sky was black and deep, as if devouring every star.
“Heh. Now it really feels like the mission's wrapping up.”
Indeed.
There had always been an undercurrent of tension between Flying Tiger and Jin Ga-yong, unspoken but simmering, leaving their alliance uneasy.
So at Flying Tiger's request, before departing on this mission, they'd made a pact in the Sogha Valley.
“One promise, please. At least until this mission ends, we bury the past.”
“Agreed.”
“I'll follow the boss. Let's have some fun together.”
“Let's.”
The clash with the Yellow Worm Unit was high-stakes—even going all-out, victory wasn't guaranteed.
But how could he fight properly, much less reap rewards, with a potential backstabber at his side?
It was a truce of sorts.
They'd honored it since. Jin Ga-yong trusted him to lead; Flying Tiger followed while seizing chances to go wild. Mutual trust.
Now, after stirring up hell together, the mission was ending.
And so was the pact's duration!
That explained delaying the Ghost Shell talk until after—once those treasures came up, things would spiral uncontrollably.
His instincts whispered as much.
The next day.
With a day off, the Face Pursuit Unit Jeong took personal time.
Dan-geum, Na-mok, and Sa-myo focused on recovery; Ye Dok-du ate and slept on repeat. A Jeok-gang polished weapons and stretched lightly. Jin Ga-yong holed up in his room, meditating all day to heal internal injuries—the aftermath must've been severe.
And as promised, No Song-seo headed out at dawn to patrol the area.
Flying Tiger slept soundly, ate heartily, then found a secluded clearing. There, he sweated buckets honing his skills, mostly blade work to master his new Overgold Sword ASAP.
At dusk, No Song-seo swung by the clearing on patrol.
“Passing by, thought I'd drop in. Am I interrupting?”
Flying Tiger halted his fervent sword dance, wiped sweat with a towel, and approached.
“Not at all. I was waiting for you.”
He'd picked the remote spot not just to train undisturbed, but to meet Woo-i of Seo-guk-dang—disguised as No Song-seo—privately.
Reunion with her master, Hidden Moon—his other employer—was nearing.
Woo-i relayed Seo-guk-dang's updates. Flying Tiger acknowledged them with a cough, then broached his personal request.
“I have a commission for Haomen guide No Song-seo. Will you take it?”
Not Woo-i of Seo-guk-dang, but Haomen's guide.
Surprised by his earnestness, she quickly slipped back into shrewd middle-aged No Song-seo's persona.
“Honored you'd pick me, sir, but first, the details of the job.”
“There's a woman I love. She's very ill. You know of her?”
“Well... yeah? So?”
“Watch over her for a month.”
“Hm, you want me to play nursemaid?”
Flying Tiger shook his head.
“Someone else handles the caretaking. Just check in once or twice a day. And if external danger strikes, get her out—to anywhere safe.”
“...!”
“Call it insurance. Things around me are a mess; I worry she'll get swept up.”
No Song-seo tilted her head.
“If real danger hits, won't Seo-guk-dang handle it? No need to ask me...”
“Of course they're pros—I trust them. But you're the best in the business. Pricey, but worth every coin, or so I hear.”
Those were her own words from last night's drinks, said with a sly grin.
“Ha~ Alright, what's your budget?”
“One nyang of gold upfront. Four more if all's well at month's end. And if trouble hits and you step in, nine more—for ten total.”
Five nyang profit for a quiet month, or ten for resolving a crisis.
This was top-tier premium commission, price-wise.
And she wouldn't even need to babysit full-time—fellow Seo-guk-dang members would cover Gong Won-yeong anyway.
Just drop by daily for reports...
Hm, too good to be true?
“Warrior Flying Tiger must be loaded, eh?”
He gave a wry smile, switched to casual speech, and said,
“That's my whole stash. Got it from side gigs since joining the Face Pursuit Squad. Always been broke otherwise—loose with coin.”
He was perpetually short for Gong Won-yeong's treatments.
He'd originally sought Hidden Moon for a ten-nyang loan to fund their final farewell trip.
That sparked it all.
Paradoxically, he'd scraped together the ten nyang now, but she lay bedridden while he tumbled into chaos.
“Whoa, your whole fortune? Let's knock some off...”
“No. It's my mindset as the client. If I hear she's dead while gallivanting elsewhere, I couldn't bear it.”
“Hey, trimming the price doesn't mean slacking. No need to feel bad...”
Flying Tiger shook his head.
It was meant to burden her. He couldn't do more for Gong Won-yeong directly, so this was his way.
He could only pray his sincerity reached the heavens.
Two days later.
he Face Pursuit Unit Jeong returned (restored to its original state) to Face Pursuit headquarters at Red Lantern Temple.
In other words, after half a month away, Flying Tiger was back to the tangled mess he'd left.