Chapter 211
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Face Pursuit Gap Unit (2)
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It was nightfall in Zhangye, a city in the central desert of Gansu Province.
Flying Tiger and his group arrived in Zhangye and first stopped by the merchant caravan. There, they returned the various equipment they'd used to cross the desert, including their horses, and received fresh supplies. Tomorrow, they had to climb to the midpoint of the Ice Mountain, where snow never melted even once a year, so there was plenty of gear to pack.
Thus, each of them shouldered a thick backpack before they were escorted to the lodging provided by the caravan.
The lodging was a cozy two-story building in a U-shape, an annex behind the inn. It had ample space in the courtyard for baggage carts and a separate entrance, accommodating up to forty people in total. The caravan had rented out the entire place for the Face Pursuit Squad.
It was clear they'd gone out of their way to make arrangements. The first-floor banquet hall was stocked with assorted snacks and drinks. With plenty of rooms on the second floor, each member of the group even got their own.
For weary travelers, it was nothing short of delightful.
After unpacking, they each spent some time on their own.
Na Baek, leader of the Eul Unit, and Jin Ga-yong, leader of the Jeong Unit, met separately. They reviewed the message delivered by a carrier pigeon from the main force's Yi-yang Unit deputy commander and discussed the upcoming schedule.
Meanwhile, Na Mok, Sa Myo, and the protector Won Gap seemed exhausted from the journey; they went straight to their rooms and didn't emerge.
The rest washed up simply, changed into light clothes, and gathered in the first-floor banquet hall. From the Eul Unit, that was Dae-san, Jang Il-uk, and A-hu—a trio. From the Jeong Unit, it was Ye Dok-du, Dan Geum, A Jeok-gang, and So Myeong-rang—four in all.
So Myeong-rang, still not fully recovered, looked utterly drained. The faces around him were unfamiliar, making the gathering feel burdensome. But having lived communally back in Geumun Island, he understood group dynamics well enough. He made the effort to show his face.
In truth, no one fussed over So Myeong-rang as the new guy. Even Ye Dok-du, who'd probed everyone including Flying Tiger in the past, held back this time. So Myeong-rang hadn't hidden his origins, and his bearing screamed experience—you could tell at a glance. A rough-edged wanderer who'd seen it all. That was the Lone Horn Tiger, So Myeong-rang.
Anyway, the seven who gathered in the banquet hall exchanged words of thanks for the day's hard work and dug into the food.
A short while later, So Myeong-rang, having made his appearance, excused himself and left. Dan Geum followed suit, claiming he felt off today. He downed the bottle in his hand in one go, face flushing red, then staggered up to his room. It seemed less his body and more his mind that was ailing.
That left five in the banquet hall.
Two of them—Ye Dok-du and A-hu, now chatting more easily—were in one corner, passing a bottle back and forth as they spun tales.
"That night had a certain charm to it, you know? Deep in the mountains by a valley—maybe that's why, or perhaps because we were steeling our resolve. Do you know what our Jeong Unit leader said there?"
"What'd he say?"
"He first listed off the depravities of that vermin pack, the Hwangchung Group. Then he declared something like this. Ahem—as a warrior with a sword at my side, isn't it revolting to breathe the same air as such lawless scum under the heavens? It is for me! That's precisely why I drew my blade!"
"......"
"Kya~ Isn't that cool? It moved me so much, I remember the whole speech. Felt like I was some righteous hero myself."
A-hu stared blankly at Ye Dok-du. Righteous hero? With that bandit-perfect mug? As he thought that, Ye Dok-du prodded him.
"So, what'd you think? Didn't it send shivers down your spine, make your blood boil?"
"Hmm, it did raise goosebumps and stir me up. Not sure if in the same way as you, though."
While those two bantered away, Dae-san and Jang Il-uk moistened their throats with liquor in another spot, sharing idle talk. Their topic was life after this—the Face Pursuit Squad was set to disband once the mission ended.
"Thanks to busting our asses, I've saved up a tidy sum this time. Maybe hang up the sword and try a little trading."
"You? You'd blow it all in a flash. Better to blow it with me for half a year, living it up. That'd hurt less."
"Hmph, laying into me, are you? That's what you get for living so recklessly."
"Says you. Reckless me or prudent you—either way, we're both screwed."
"Damn it all."
The last one, A Jeok-gang, as usual, ignored the drinks and the chatter alike, focusing solely on devouring the snacks.
"Hey, you're No Use A Jeok-gang, right?"
A Jeok-gang nodded, looking up at Dae-san's question. It wasn't rudeness—his mouth was stuffed full.
"Is Flying Tiger, your unit's deputy leader, sleeping in his room? Haven't seen him since earlier."
"He stepped out for a walk. Should be back soon."
"A walk at this hour?"
"The guy's just got a thing for wandering everywhere."
The wandering enthusiast Flying Tiger had stepped out the moment he was assigned his room. Asking directions along the way, he made for the porters' guild in a dim alley on the city's outskirts. It was essentially a labor office, with a modest sign out front. Not just porters, but all sorts of specialists clients might need gathered there.
Flying Tiger had come for a message from the Western District Hall. Apparently, they had a mutual aid pact with the caravan—which went to show Hidden Moon's influence extended beyond Shaanxi Province.
Here too, he received the same brief note as before: "All clear. Go without worry." That sealed his course. With the main operation starting tomorrow, there was no backing out now.
'Just what I hoped for. Now, may all stay clear until we return from the mission.'
On his way back from the porters' guild, Flying Tiger gazed at the moon hanging far off. The sky stretched vast and open beneath it, and below loomed the faint, endless silhouette of the Ice Mountain he had to tackle tomorrow. A long wind blew across the desert from some distant place. Worries welled up and faded. Visions of a grim future formed and dispersed. At last, he halted his steps, steadying his uneasy heart.
"Where am I headed right now?"
Flying Tiger murmured, stroking his sword hilt. When had he ever truly known? He'd see as he walked. He'd learn by cleaving through the obstacles in his path. So...
Focus on the task at hand!
Steeling himself, Flying Tiger headed back to the lodging where his comrades stayed. Thus, he trudged straight into the churning storm of cruel fate.
Knock... knock...
A feeble rap at the door roused Flying Tiger, who pried open his heavy eyelids.
This was the inn room bed. He'd lain down less than half a watch ago. Who could it be? Jin Ga-yong, the unit leader? But at this late hour, without warning? Or just a half-dream?
Flying Tiger lay still, holding his breath and waiting. Then came another faint knock. He rose quietly and flung open the door.
He was startled.
There, slumped against the wall, was Sa Myo—bleeding and delirious.
In an instant, Flying Tiger scanned the hall with his eyes, checked the courtyard, and pricked up his ears for sounds around.
All was silent.
Flying Tiger carefully scooped up Sa Myo, carried him inside, and laid him on the bed. He cracked the closed window slightly, then shut the door tight.
Click.
Sa Myo's condition was dire.
Flying Tiger saw multiple stab and slash wounds from blades, one critically placed. A dagger plunged deep into his side, nicking organs. Pulling it out rashly would cause a gush of blood, so he started emergency treatment on the other wounds first.
In moments, Flying Tiger's hands were drenched in blood, and the bed soaked red.
In between, Sa Myo moaned now and then, rousing briefly before passing out again. But he tried. In his lucid moments, he mumbled relentlessly. Unfortunately, his words were slurred and fragmented, impossible to make out fully. Still, he desperately wanted to tell Flying Tiger something.
A few scraps emerged amid it all—though even these were uncertain guesses from context. Were these the words he meant to say? Or mere ravings?
Gap Unit. And nails.
Trap. And preparation.
Especially... be wary of him.
Flying Tiger hadn't shouted for the others because Sa Myo had come to him quietly for good reason.
And piecing together these broken words might reveal that reason too.
So Flying Tiger figured: if Sa Myo mustered strength for more clues, and he connected them, they could uncover vital truths. It just needed time.
But...
Flying Tiger said gravely,
"Sa Myo, it seems we lack that time—you or I. My first aid can't stall your mortal wound any longer. And I need to head out soon myself."
He leaned close and whispered in Sa Myo's ear.
"Let's leave it to luck. Hang on tight. I'll get you to a physician soon. The rest, I'll hear from you once you're through this."
With that, Flying Tiger bolted to the door and kicked it open with a bang. He bellowed down the hall, loud enough to shake it, waking his sleeping comrades.
"Ambush!"
Creeeak.
In that instant, the slightly ajar window creaked open. A long blowpipe slid in, aimed straight at Sa Myo on the bed.
What was this?
An intruder lurking outside the second-floor window had been startled by Flying Tiger's outburst but saw an opening too. He blew a poisoned needle from the pipe to put Sa Myo down for good.
But the moment the pipe entered, Flying Tiger—who'd sensed the intruder just before and lured him in—hurled a dagger at it from the door.
The blade flashed through the window with a dull thunk into the darkness beyond.
Thud.
Flying Tiger followed the throw with a flying kick, shattering the window and sending the hidden assailant flying in one go.
Crash!
Ignoring the black-clad figure that dropped to the ground, Flying Tiger vaulted the railing, twisted midair, and scaled the roof.
Two more black-clad figures, likely comrades, waited there. Farther out, several suspicious shadows encircled the inn.