Chapter 127
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 127
Chapter Title: 36. Subduing Demon Hall (3)
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"Are you leaving?"
"It's getting dark. Let's wrap it up tomorrow."
"Pardon? But the blade seems pretty much ready now..."
"That's enough for today."
The old man from Shandong said as much and departed.
Flying Tiger murmured behind his back, "Then tomorrow I'll make up for today's share and give it a good once-over." The old man waved that he understood.
Left alone after the old man left, Flying Tiger clenched and unclenched his fist for a moment, lost in thought. Soon enough, he shook out his wrists with a few swings.
The day was already fading into evening.
A strange heat lingered in Flying Tiger's hands. But it wasn't just from hammering away like mad. In matching the rhythm and cadence of the old man's strikes, he'd felt a novel sensation in his grip—something like that.
His hands remembered that unfamiliar, intense flavor, but his mind and heart still struggled to comprehend and accept it.
So what was he to do?
That was why he'd skipped dinner, immediately drawn his sword, and thrown himself into training.
Whoooosh~ whoosh—
Blade light danced wildly.
It was the moment Flying Tiger whipped his sword at high speed while taking his sixth step.
He staggered.
The forced step was unsteady, and with his balance shaken, his sword strikes began wobbling sharply from the fortieth onward, losing their edge. It was nothing more than wild, sloppy swings—like what street thugs might muster. No better, no worse: meaningless hacking.
This was the result of incorporating the inspiration from the old man from Shandong.
Previously, Flying Tiger had succeeded up to the seventh step and fifty-six strikes of the Sixty-Four Whirlwind Sword Dance. Yet now he'd regressed to a mere five steps.
Huff. Huff.
Flying Tiger panted heavily, then slammed his Overgold Sword to the ground and collapsed in a heap. Not satisfied, he flopped onto his back, limbs splayed like a starfish.
He'd wrung every last drop of energy from his body, teetering on the brink of exhaustion. For now, this was his limit.
"I thought I'd almost nailed it, but back to five steps... Well, not all bad. At least I know what's lacking—that's something."
Flying Tiger stared at the night sky while lying flat, muttering self-consolation. But who was he kidding? It was just empty comfort.
To properly fill that gap, the real work started now.
Today it was five steps, but tomorrow it might drop to four, and the day after to less than three. That was how different the meaning and weight in a single sword strike were between the old man from Shandong and Flying Tiger.
Yes, the stars in the night sky he gazed up at felt especially distant and hazy.
He let out a long sigh.
Then Flying Tiger spoke not in a mutter, but in a loud voice.
"No point hiding anymore when there's nothing left to show. Come on out."
Crunch crunch.
"It wasn't on purpose. I came looking for you, Flying Tiger warrior, because I had something to say, and I just happened to see. I realized you were training and meant to look away, but... I couldn't tear my eyes off it."
"Spare me. What's the business?"
Flying Tiger spoke without stirring from his sprawled position or even glancing over, as if the whole world wearied him. But his hand was stealthily inching toward the Overgold Sword he'd just dropped.
The newcomer was the Unforgetting Sword, Sima Gulgi. What business could he have at this late hour?
Sima Gulgi seemed reluctant to broach the subject directly, so he picked up on something else.
"Gutsy, I'd say... With a fight right around the corner, you're not just loosening up—you're training so fiercely you're draining yourself dry?"
"When am I supposed to train if I nitpick every little thing? The strategy briefing's probably tomorrow anyway. Sleep off the fatigue tonight, and I'm good."
"Ah, you knew?"
"Not really. But I've been around long enough to see it coming. They can't conspire in front of someone's house forever."
"Hm, you're right."
"And you, Brother Sima. Things'll get busy starting tomorrow, so it'd be awkward to bring it up then. But waiting till it's all over—who knows how things might change? Must've been eating at you, huh? After agonizing one night, you figured now's better and came."
"You... noticed I had business with you, Flying Tiger warrior?"
"Dunno. Just looked like you had something to say, and here you are. Right?"
"I see."
Sima Gulgi then mentioned a name. He asked if Flying Tiger knew him.
Hobi?
It was a name Flying Tiger had never heard, and he said as much. But for some reason, Sima Gulgi didn't buy it. He seemed to think they knew each other and Flying Tiger was feigning ignorance.
Why?
From what he heard, this Hobi was a bounty hunter with the Western Bureau, just like Flying Tiger, led by Hidden Moon.
But even if they were both in the Western Bureau, Flying Tiger didn't know every bounty hunter. And truthfully, he couldn't.
The Western Bureau connected clients with bounty hunters and took a cut—it didn't take responsibility for whether the jobs succeeded or failed.
(*Occasionally, the Western Bureau took on commissions directly, but that was exceedingly rare.) So bounty hunters were like independent contractors. They could affiliate, but choosing or rejecting jobs was entirely up to the individual, as was the outcome.
In other words, the relationship between the Western Bureau and its bounty hunters was loose.
Thus, plenty of hunters slipped in quietly and vanished without a word—many went unnoticed entirely.
Given all that, what had Sima Gulgi seen in Flying Tiger to believe he knew this Hobi?
"So, Brother Sima's saying this Hobi's in the Western Bureau like me, same age range, one of the hotshots?"
"Exactly. Folks at that level know each other, right? Especially since you're around the same age, you'd have been compared plenty."
"Ha~ Say that's true. Why're you looking for this Hobi guy?"
"One question first. Do you have a personal friendship with Hobi?"
Even though the man in question denied it, Sima Gulgi acted as if they were acquaintances. He asked earnestly on that premise.
Flying Tiger chuckled in disbelief, then propped himself up roughly. He brushed the dirt from his hair and back carelessly and turned to Sima Gulgi.
"Unforgetting Sword, did you think I was this Hobi from the moment you first saw me?"
"I won't deny it."
"Then is this Hobi the enemy of your clan? The one you swore revenge on."
"Sharp as ever."
Flying Tiger clicked his tongue, gripped the Overgold Sword, and rose. He stared at Sima Gulgi with a fierce glint.
And the Overgold Sword twitched.
Truth be told, Flying Tiger had suspected as much to some degree. He'd played dumb until now to avoid extra trouble.
But the moment those words left Sima Gulgi's mouth, it became an issue he had to address head-on.
Thus, Flying Tiger's actions were a warning.
Spill the whole story straight.
Don't want to? Then tonight's gonna get ugly.
Sima Gulgi stood ten paces away, watching Flying Tiger's moves with a complicated expression.
Originally, he'd wanted to confirm things first before getting to the point—it was a delicate matter. But Flying Tiger was quick on the uptake, and now, to get what he wanted, Sima Gulgi had to lay his cards on the table.
Was this the right move?
'Yes. To catch a tiger, you enter the tiger's den.'
Muttering inwardly, Sima Gulgi began revealing his story.
"My clan is the Sama Family of Hubei Province. My enemy's clan is Red Cloud Hall, a den of traitors. Have you heard anything related?"
"...!"
Even with his limited knowledge of the martial world, Flying Tiger knew of the Sama Family and Red Cloud Hall.
Especially the Sama Family.
It had been tied to a commission he'd taken, and in the process of handling a related request, he'd heard their story from Hidden Moon.
It was a thirty-nyang bounty from Uga Mountain Village, and the bandits he'd encountered then were remnants of the Sama Family.
'Please spare us! Make sure those bandit scum never set foot in the village again—somehow!'
At the time, Flying Tiger had handled it as the villagers wished.
By sending the bandits far away, across a river they could never return from.
He'd personally shoved off twelve of them, but three stood out in memory.
One: A middle-aged man with blue spots on his cheek. Flying Tiger had planted a throwing dagger in his forehead.
One: An old man who'd introduced himself as the last elder of the Sama Family. His throat had been slit with a sword.
And one: Their leader, a woman claiming to be the last direct descendant of the family. Trembling without resistance, she'd been sent off cleanly with a death point strike.
Meanwhile, Sima Gulgi revealed his identity and past.
He was from a branch line of the family, granted the surname "Sima" for his talents. His final position had been captain of the elite guard unit, the Eagle Peak Troop.
On the day disaster struck the Sama Family, he'd luckily been away on external business and escaped the flames. Afterward, he'd heard the news and lurked around Red Cloud Hall for a time, seeking a chance for revenge.
But how much could one man do against a clan?
Thus, his path to vengeance seemed forever distant...
Then one day.
Sima Gulgi received unexpected news: Sama Eun-ryeong and Elder Im Dal, said to have escaped the massacre, were both dead.
The culprit was none other than the bounty hunter Hobi in question.
The Western Bureau, acting as Hobi's agent, had contacted Red Cloud Hall on his behalf. They'd paid the reward fee, and Red Cloud Hall had loudly publicized it afterward. That's how it spread outside.
Therefore, Sima Gulgi's claim held water.
Flying Tiger insisted otherwise, but he knew Hobi well. What Sima Gulgi didn't know was that Hobi was Flying Tiger himself.
'Yeah, back then I asked Hidden Moon to handle it so I could scrape together travel funds for my last trip with Young-i. I handed over identifying tokens from those I killed and told him to claim any bounties on them. Who knew the karma would circle back to stand right in front of me like this. Sure, but... Hobi?'
Flying Tiger stared at Sima Gulgi, who was revealing everything to his enemy, feeling utterly incredulous. He struggled to keep his expression in check as his face threatened to betray him.
'Dizzying. What the hell is this situation?'
At that moment, Sima Gulgi steeled himself with a resolute face and dropped to his knees on the ground. He bowed deeply to Flying Tiger.
"Flying Tiger warrior, please have mercy on this Unforgetting Sword and aid my revenge. You know all too well the desperation of vengeance, don't you? Help me, and I'll gladly offer my head in return."
"Uh... how?"
"Once the Zhao Family Manor business is done, arrange a private meeting with Hobi."
"Ahem! And then?"
"That'll suffice. I'll handle the rest!"
"..."
It was an utterly awkward request.
That night was the eve of the elite vanguard's operation against Zhao Family Manor—and the fifth day of his deadline with Hidden Moon was drawing to a close.