Chapter 125
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 125
Chapter Title: Chapter 36. Demon Subduing Hall (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
When had it started?
Before he knew it, he stood alone in the pitch-black void. It felt like a vast, open plain stretching endlessly in every direction, yet the conviction gripped his mind that a single misstep would send him plummeting into a bottomless chasm a thousand ri deep.
So he waited. And as he did, he murmured under his breath in a steady rhythm, out of habit.
One hundred one, one hundred two, one hundred three…
One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three…
Ten thousand… ten thousand eight hundred, four? Five?
In the end, he gave up counting.
No one came.
And now, whether his head was growing foggy, his tongue was twisting, or some other sense was warping, the numbers kept jumping. He even began to doubt if all the ones he'd counted so far were accurate.
But whether that time had been a fleeting moment or an eternity, no one appeared. In the end, he had no choice but to admit it.
'Have I truly lost my way?'
It was what he'd feared.
So where should he go now?
Bam. Bam. Bam.
"Are you there, sir?"
Rough knocking and loud voices roused Flying Tiger from deep sleep. He cracked his eyes open gently, and the beams of light flooding the room stung his retinas.
It was late morning.
He'd pushed hard on the march the day before, it seemed, leaving him more exhausted than expected. Flying Tiger sat up on the bed, rubbing his eyelids with thumb and forefinger as he replied.
"What is it?"
"Ah! You're there."
They'd woken him with their racket, yet acted surprised, whispering among themselves. One said, "See? I told you. What if we'd forced the door open?" Another muttered, "No reply, so I thought he'd bolted." Then the first boasted, "From now on, treat him like a benefactor. Big brother here just saved your neck from that little devil."
They apparently thought their whispers through the door crack wouldn't carry.
Flying Tiger found it ridiculous and irritating, raising his voice.
"What do you want?"
"Ah! Lady Jeong-geum urgently requests your presence."
"Jeong-geum? Tell her nothing's wrong. I'm tired and need more sleep."
"Sorry, but she insisted we bring you. It's urgent."
"…Got it. Give me a moment to prepare."
The night before, Flying Tiger had been given a small, single-room private quarters.
A cluster of about a dozen such buildings stood in the inner courtyard of this Jeonghwa Pavilion, likely used by elders in normal times. The rooms were modest in size but tidy and fully equipped.
Flying Tiger splashed water from the washbasin over his face, threw on his clothes, and paused before stepping out to glance in the bronze mirror.
A frightened child stared back at him with wide, wary eyes.
"Tch, not to my liking."
He ruffled his hair irritably with a grumble, then checked again. The child was gone, replaced by a jianghu rogue glaring fiercely.
Now satisfied, Flying Tiger nodded and stepped outside.
"What’s this about, dragging me out at the crack of dawn?"
"Come in."
Seated there were Jeong-geum, Ho Ye-hwa, and Il-gwang. Ho Ye-hwa welcomed Flying Tiger, while Jeong-geum cut straight to business.
"Don't you think it's time you showed your skills?"
"Didn't I show plenty yesterday? Not enough?"
"Not to us—to them."
Flying Tiger let out a low whistle, pulled up an empty chair at their table, plopped down casually, and jerked his chin.
A cocky gesture telling them to get on with it.
Jeong-geum, apparently used to such behavior, explained calmly without batting an eye.
"We've captured one of Jin Ga-yong's people."
"One of his sworn brothers?"
"What makes you think that?"
"You called me here, so it must be someone valuable enough. Who else but those sworn brothers he cherishes?"
Ho Ye-hwa clapped in delight, joining in with a pleased smile.
"As expected, little brother has sharp instincts. Working together will be a pleasure."
"So who is it?"
"But don't get ahead of yourself. Not yet."
"…?"
Il-gwang suddenly piped up.
"We caught Jin Ga-yong's concubine."
"Concubine? The Zhao Manor leader has a wife and mistress?"
Flying Tiger asked in surprise.
Come to think of it, Jin Ga-yong had once mentioned being over thirty. At that age, remarrying wasn't unusual.
'But I thought something was going on with Deputy Leader Gwak Nan-hoe. Surely Lion Hall's master's only daughter wouldn't tangle with a married man. Hmm, wonder if the Zhao leader has kids too.'
Jeong-geum corrected him.
"Don't misunderstand. I meant one of his cherished servants. Her status makes her poor bait, but good for prying info on Jin Ga-yong."
"Tch, a body servant's just for that, isn't she? Separate from a concubine?"
Il-gwang grumbled, and from his tone, that seemed to be how this ugly brute viewed servants.
Anyway…
Flying Tiger leaned back, crossing his legs with a smirk, and asked,
"But you didn't kidnap some defenseless woman ignorant of martial arts, did you?"
"Why? Problem?"
Jeong-geum shot back as if he'd heard everything under the sun, and Il-gwang chimed in thoughtlessly with, "A real man on a big job shouldn't fuss over trifles." He meant it as kindness, but this guy was clearly doomed to die ugly.
Flying Tiger chuckled.
"Tch, bothers me. A lot. Makes me want to kill you all."
"…!"
Clap.
Ho Ye-hwa clapped to defuse the tension.
From his observations, this kid Flying Tiger wasn't someone to prod carelessly. Crush him thoroughly or treat him with cautious courtesy—nothing in between.
Ho Ye-hwa scolded Jeong-geum.
"Friend, enough. Even in jest, there are things to say and not say. We're from prestigious families, not street thugs. Let's not deepen the rift with Warrior Flying Tiger."
Jeong-geum grudgingly backed down at Ho Ye-hwa's words, leaving Il-gwang red-faced as the real lowlife.
Ho Ye-hwa soothed Il-gwang too.
"Beasts of the land and beasts of the water follow different codes. Likewise, we can't judge mountain bandits by our standards. So please don't take my private words to a friend to heart."
"Ahem, since you understand my position, I'll let it slide."
"Grateful for your generosity."
Flying Tiger snorted inwardly. Their mutual "understanding" was a spectacle of posturing.
But he couldn't show it, and Ho Ye-hwa, oblivious, lectured calmly.
"And Warrior Flying Tiger, forgive Jeong-geum's rudeness—lingering grudge from yesterday, perhaps. Our group isn't that barbaric. She's called a servant, but she's a full member of Zhao Family Manor and a martial artist. When disaster strikes the manor, she'll draw her blade without hesitation. Still uncomfortable because she's a woman?"
"Then it doesn't bother me."
Flying Tiger replied indifferently, uncrossing his legs.
Ho Ye-hwa exchanged a glance with Jeong-geum before getting to the point.
"Glad that's cleared up. Good. Originally, Monk Gon-son was to handle the interrogation, but it's tricky now… How about you take a shot?"
"You want me to torture her?"
"Why, reluctant? Truth is, I recommended you. After experiencing it myself last time, your skills seemed extraordinary."
Flying Tiger had once captured and harshly interrogated Ho Ye-hwa. Apparently, it had impressed him.
Flying Tiger nodded.
"True, I have some special methods. I do, but…"
He trailed off, pretending distraction, leaving Ho Ye-hwa and Jeong-geum fuming.
Was this brat agreeing or refusing?
In truth, this was the final test.
Flying Tiger had passed on force, guts, dogged temper, and background (which the group still needed to verify, but seemed clean for now). Only one thing remained.
Did Flying Tiger truly have the resolve to turn against Jin Ga-yong?
What if he was Jin Ga-yong's man after all, or flipped sides later based on circumstances? Disaster.
They had to nail this down.
Hence the test.
If you're really not Jin Ga-yong's, you'll use her without mercy. Crossing that irreversible river with him.
So choose.
Join us?
Or die here?
With stakes like that, this loathsome punk was toying with them, dragging it out.
Then Il-gwang, useless till now, said something helpful for once. Maybe shit-dogs spot shit best.
"Little brother, are you asking how much we'll pay if you take the job?"
Flying Tiger cleared his throat, tacitly admitting it.
Jeong-geum irritably tossed a money pouch from her bosom at him. Flying Tiger caught it one-handed, weighed it, and pocketed it. With the money exchanged, he spoke gravely.
"Now, if you're working with me from here on, know this: I work exactly for what I get paid. That's my rule. And this amount… means you don't want my real skills, just something passable… right?"
"…."
About half a shichen (one hour) later, Flying Tiger left first, claiming he'd finish his sleep.
Of course, after passing the test.
Il-gwang lingered another yike (15 minutes) before departing, mumbling he was tired too, dawdling obviously.
The reason was plain.
'Probably dreads walking alone with Flying Tiger. Who wouldn't fear staying one-on-one with that little devil? Haah~ Brings back old memories.'
Ho Ye-hwa clicked his tongue, shaking his head, when Jeong-geum asked gravely,
"What do you make of it?"
"Make of what? The little devil claimed trade secret and showed nothing."
"…."
"Just this: Sounds odd, but I've decided. If that punk catches me again… I'll bite my tongue and end it clean."
"Sorcery?"
"Who knows. But…"
Ho Ye-hwa grimaced in disgust.
"One thing's certain: We paid him too much. Tch! Who could've guessed he'd spill everything in the time to sip tea, claiming he works for the pay?"
Indeed.
Flying Tiger had haggled for two more pouches, then eagerly entered the interrogation room—only to exit before finishing a cup of tea.