Chapter 161
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 161
Chapter Title: 45. Vertical and Horizontal (1)
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Flying Tiger's group arrived near Zhao Family Manor well past the hour of Wei, between one and three in the afternoon.
Flying Tiger couldn't shake the feeling that the distant manor looked utterly different. The place he'd seen when leaving with Ma Yeop had felt welcoming, but now, convinced he'd never lay eyes on it again, it struck him as utterly bleak and desolate.
'Probably because so many were wounded and killed there.'
Zhao Family Manor hadn't let in Flying Tiger or the others from Choeo-jin. They were too busy cleaning up after the predawn battle to spare any attention for them. Instead, they'd assigned them quarters in a designated house—house arrest, in effect.
In truth, it was a remarkably lenient punishment. They could have bound them hand and foot and tossed them into some random shed without a word of protest. The reason it was possible was Flying Tiger's great contributions, his promise of voluntary cooperation, and Jin Ga-yong vouching for them.
Wang U finished the handover and hurried off to Zhao Family Manor with their people. But before leaving, he unexpectedly spoke to Flying Tiger, who hadn't exchanged a single word with him the whole time.
"Sorry for being a prick."
"Huh?"
"Damn it. Just take it as it is."
Flying Tiger was so startled by the abrupt apology that he couldn't even respond before Wang U scurried away. Then A Jeok-gang approached with a grin, asked Flying Tiger to take care of things, bowed, and followed suit. Maeng Dal-seo, however, lingered, staring at Flying Tiger and fumbling awkwardly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to.
From Flying Tiger's read of the situation, it seemed they'd discussed it among themselves beforehand. He appreciated the sentiment. So he spoke first to Maeng Dal-seo.
"Brother Maeng, I've offended you in many ways. The next time we meet under better circumstances, with you and the others, I'll apologize properly then."
"Ahem. Very well."
With that, the Zhao Family Manor group departed, and Flying Tiger and his remaining companions entered the house under the guidance—or surveillance—of the waiting warriors.
......
The house was surprisingly spacious. It featured a twelve-room main building in a U-shape, along with a detached quarters and servants' annexes. Beyond the large central courtyard, there were smaller ones front and back.
The resident Zhao Family Manor warriors numbered just three, and their skills seemed average at best. Given how close the manor was, their role was likely just to keep watch and relay messages if anything arose.
After assigning rooms, Flying Tiger summoned the other three, excluding the Sandong Elder, who had lain down to rest.
The elder had woken once on the way but fallen asleep again. According to Bong Yeon-ja, they needed to monitor him a bit longer, but if he made it through this night, his condition should improve.
"Made it through? How do we ensure that?"
When Flying Tiger pressed her, Bong Yeon-ja shrugged.
"Beats me."
"......?"
"Don't misunderstand. I've done everything I can. By now, he should have entered the recovery phase, but for some reason, his body is refusing to heal itself."
"What, like he's unconsciously rejecting life itself?"
"Maybe? But don't worry too much. It's not unheard of. Usually, it's temporary, so let's keep watching."
"Hmm."
Flying Tiger nodded as if he understood, then turned to Bong Yeon-ja, Ho Ye-hwa, and Yun Ga in turn before getting to the point.
"Ho Ye-hwa, how's your body holding up?"
Ho Ye-hwa glanced at Bong Yeon-ja before replying.
"Thanks to the lady, I'm manageable. Should be no trouble moving around in a few days."
"Good. You're set then. What about you, Yun Ga?"
"I'm Yun Deok-sin, actually."
"Huh?"
"Family name Yun, given name Deok-sin."
"......"
"Heh heh, but Yun Ga's fine. Anyway, I'm fit as a fiddle. Ahem. If you've got tasks for me, just say the word."
"Nah, nothing specific. Just since you're claiming to be fine and all, don't get any ideas about slipping away because the watch is lax. It'd put me in a bind."
"Heavens, why would I trouble my benefactor? Put your mind at ease. I'll cooperate fully with Zhao Family Manor."
"Yun Ga... or Yun Deok-sin."
"Yes."
"You don't need to worry about me. Just worry about yourself."
"Pardon?"
"If you run, I'll hunt you down and kill you myself anyway. But if it comes to that, all the effort I put into saving you goes to waste, and it won't sit well with me. That's the kind of bind I mean."
"Ah......"
"Not just you—anyone else, too. Even the Sandong Elder lying there. Keep that in mind. Don't come crying later that my blade was merciless."
"......"
As Flying Tiger scanned them with a veiled threat, his gaze lingered a bit longer on Bong Yeon-ja, making her flinch.
Then he said,
"In exchange, I promise this: as long as you harbor no ill intentions, I'll do everything in my power for your convenience and safety. So since we're all gathered here like this, let's turn it into a good connection."
Flying Tiger meant it.
He hoped to forge good ties with them, but if problems arose, he was prepared to take responsibility and cut them down.
After laying down the stern warning, Flying Tiger dismissed them. They all went to rest, and he organized his thoughts while waiting for Jin Ga-yong.
1. He needed to hear Jin Ga-yong's story.
Zhao Family Manor would surely seek revenge against Choeo-jin in some form. If they did, he planned to lend a hand. It was partly to gain Jin Ga-yong's favor, but also for his own sake. Choeo-jin would now be an obstacle in his path, one way or another. So he intended to stir the pot when they clashed with Zhao Family Manor.
At the same time, Flying Tiger planned to probe Choeo-jin for information on the serial killer Guimyeon's identity and whereabouts. There was definitely something between the two groups.
1. He needed updates from Hidden Moon's side.
At their last contact, they'd located Geum-ok Seon-ja. With luck, she might be examining Gong Won-yeong's condition by now. It was the top priority among all his tasks. Yet it was also the news he least wanted to hear. If even Geum-ok Seon-ja gave up, there would be no hope left.
1. He needed to coax Bong Yeon-ja.
This one was tricky, but through her, he could extract information on Geum-ok Seon-ja and O-song Jin-in. Slim chance or not, he planned to send her to examine Gong Won-yeong as well.
These three matters were independent yet interconnected.
Thus, Flying Tiger decided to wait first for whatever news Jin Ga-yong brought. Coordinating with Serukdang required it, as did requesting Bong Yeon-ja's custody—with Jin Ga-yong's approval.
Of course, if things got urgent, he'd find another way, but he preferred to let it unfold naturally.
Night deepened, but Jin Ga-yong still hadn't appeared. Just as Flying Tiger began to grow restless,
Thud.
He set down his cold teacup and peered out the window. After a moment, he donned his long robe, grabbed the Overgold Sword leaning against the wall, and slipped outside. He leaped lightly, gripped the eaves with both hands, and flipped his body up onto the roof in one fluid motion.
From atop the roof, Flying Tiger surveyed the surroundings.
Overhead stretched the vast night sky. Clouds raced by, and behind them, countless stars flickered in and out of view. The wind whistled past his ears.
Amid those winds, a faint breeze brushed his ear, carrying the lingering echo of metal clashing—like the sound he'd been seeking.
'North. Seventy zhang out.'
Flying Tiger launched his form effortlessly across the rooftops.
Tat-tat-tak.
Chasing the faint sounds, he heard two more clashes of steel, guiding him precisely to the source.
It was when he crossed the village's northern boundary stream and reached the edge of a dry thicket.
Shuk!
A sudden dagger flew in, embedding itself in the path ahead where Flying Tiger had been running.
He naturally halted, hand drifting to his sword hilt, eyes fixed forward.
Fussh~
A tall, skeletal tree at least ten zhang high rustled, and a figure dropped from it. He strode toward Flying Tiger.
Step... step.
The man had a fierce face.
A long sword was slung across his back, and his attire was unfamiliar—not a local. His eyes were striking: narrow and slitted, exuding a feral killing intent that would make an ordinary man's legs buckle just from a glance.
Who was he?
More precisely: friend or foe?
He stopped a zhang away and growled in a thick accent,
"No one passes this road now. Turn back."
"Oh? Mind telling me why?"
"No. Shut up and scram. If you're so curious, taste my blade first."
"......"
Flying Tiger shrugged, palms open to show no intent to fight, while locking eyes and backing away slowly. Turning one's back to a beast was folly.
He retreated five cautious steps; the man just watched, arms crossed.
Judging the distance sufficient, Flying Tiger turned and took three more steps before pausing, as if struck by a sudden thought.
"By the way, just to check—who do you belong to? Choeo-jin?"
"And you're Flying Tiger, right? They said to pass on their regards."
"......!"
In an instant, Flying Tiger's back prickled.
The man closed the gap—over a zhang and eight paces—in a flash, lunging with unimaginable ferocity.
But Flying Tiger hadn't exposed his back carelessly. Qi surging to its peak, he spun, drew the Overgold Sword from his waist, and met the man's gaze.
The ambusher grinned coldly, eyes blazing with battle lust. His hand had risen over his shoulder to grip the long sword's hilt.
The next moment.
Flying Tiger slashed horizontally as he drew; the man vertically as he cleaved down.
Ashen sword aura crossed blue flash.
Flash!
Flying Tiger tumbled three times from the impact's shockwave before staggering to his feet. His qi roiled wildly; he clenched his jaw to prevent it from erupting, looking utterly rattled.
The man, meanwhile, remained in his downward draw stance, unmoved by even a single step. Though his blade tip quivered faintly, betraying the clash's toll.
Yet after one exchange, who had gained and who lost was crystal clear.
Ptooey—
Flying Tiger spat blood-tinged saliva. Calming his churning qi with effort, he glared and snarled at the man,
"Got it. Don't care who you are or where you're from anymore. Spill it. Who told you to pass on their regards?"