Chapter 214
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 214
Chapter Title: 58. Face Pursuit A-Squad (5)
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About half a gak had passed when Flying Tiger arrived at the unique terrain where the ruffians had hidden themselves.
The soil mounds clustered together to form a maze. Each one towered several times taller than a man, their sheer faces dropping almost vertically like cliffs. Thousands of them sprawled out, creating a dense forest of earth.
According to legend, this place had once been a massive lake as vast as an ocean in ancient times. For some reason, it was abandoned by the gods, and the water dried up overnight. What remained was the lakebed. Over tens of thousands of years, battered by rain and wind, scorched by the sun, they had eroded into their present form.
From afar, Flying Tiger thought they resembled islands floating serenely on the sea. As he drew closer, the wind whistling through the gaps between the mounds sounded as fierce as a pack of wild beasts howling.
It was quite an impressive terrain.
And larger and more complex than expected, making it no easy task to find someone who had deliberately hidden inside. It was also a decent spot to welcome and fight enemies.
Ptui.
Flying Tiger, who had just arrived, unwrapped the scarf covering the lower half of his face and first rinsed his mouth with water from his canteen. Then he took a long swig.
After pausing his steps for just a moment, Flying Tiger mounted up again and circled the area. At the right moment, in the right place, he dismounted and leaped into the maze.
But what were his criteria for "right" and "suitable"?
***
If the fleeing enemies had hunkered down tight, it would have been a real headache for Flying Tiger, who needed to return as quickly as possible.
But Flying Tiger predicted they wouldn't. Though they were on the run, he figured they'd still want to control the situation even a little. Under the pretext of responding appropriately to changing circumstances.
In other words, he suspected the enemies were watching him from somewhere right now.
And if that assumption held, then they would be...
'Naturally, in spots with a clear view of the surroundings. Like the top of one of those mounds, perhaps. While staying hidden behind terrain that blocks their own line of sight from this side?'
So Flying Tiger didn't make it obvious, but he had already memorized the surrounding features. Especially, he had traced imaginary lines along the contours of the mounds.
Like drawing ridgelines.
With that preparation complete, Flying Tiger slowly circled the area on horseback. At no point did he turn his head or make any moves that might arouse suspicion.
Just indifferently.
Yet with sidelong glances, he continuously checked his imaginary lines for any changes.
No matter how special his eye technique was, spotting a stationary target from afar in this dark night was tough.
Instead, Flying Tiger had the knack for detecting if something moved, creating discrepancies with his pre-drawn lines.
It was akin to a spider sensing vibrations in its web when prey got caught.
Thus, Flying Tiger stopping his horse before this unique terrain, lingering briefly, then moving again was bait to draw the enemies' gaze, pique their curiosity, and lure them into motion.
In short, the "right moment" for him was the instant he detected their movement.
And the "suitable spot" was the optimal path to reach that point.
But "reaching" didn't necessarily mean Flying Tiger himself had to get there. It included sending something in his stead for the latter part of the path, even if he covered the initial stretch.
***
Flying Tiger had sensed a twitch from that mound over there, and the moment he rounded a corner out of their sight, he vaulted off the horse.
And ran stealthily.
He slipped between the mounds and swiftly scaled the one he had marked.
Hoo- hoo-
Reaching the midpoint, Flying Tiger steadied his ragged breath and nocked an arrow to his bowstring.
Kiiik.
Then he whipped around the edge of the mound he had climbed, drawing the string taut. Up to now, he had circled behind the spot where he had sensed the presence.
"Gotcha."
Atop the opposite mound stood a black-clad ruffian in an awkward pose. Frustrated by Flying Tiger's prolonged disappearance, he had just been about to move.
Twang~ The arrow flew in a gentle arc, thunking crisply into its target.
The ruffian staggered wildly before tumbling off the top of the mound, dislodging pebbles that rained down with him.
Mingled with the crashing sounds of the fall came someone desperately calling out, "Namgeum-ah~!"
Flying Tiger instantly aimed his already-reloaded arrow toward the voice. Unfortunately, his position offered no clear line of sight.
So he tossed the arrow aside and slid down the midpoint of his mound in one swift motion. Rocks tumbled with him in a clamor, but he ignored it. They already knew each other's presence and rough positions. Landing at the base, he dashed toward where the voice had come from.
Tadak.
There waited a man who had discarded his face-covering mask and drawn his sword. He didn't look a day over forty. Shorter than average but solidly built, his face twisted in rage and killing intent.
This was the man Flying Tiger had targeted and pursued all along!
"You're that Cadet Flying Tiger they call?"
"You know me?"
"They say there's one cocky brat stirring up hell in Jeongjo Unit."
"And you?"
"Pyeon Bokja, Fifth Warrior of A-Squad."
Fifth Warrior of A-Squad?
A-Squad, huh... Quite the flashy name.
Flying Tiger let out a low whistle as he approached the man who had introduced himself as Pyeon Bokja, drawing the heavy saber at his waist.
Shring~
Flying Tiger halted three jang away. He wanted to chat a bit more.
The guy had ditched his mask and freely blurted out his affiliation without prompting. No hesitation about revealing his identity.
"That's right. Cadet Flying Tiger. But 'stirring up hell'? That's a bit unfair, don't you think? Even when I try to stay quiet, all sorts of flies keep buzzing around me. What am I supposed to do about that?"
Flying Tiger stared straight at Pyeon Bokja, emphasizing that this pest was one of them, and aired his grievances. He shrugged and asked what was on his mind.
"So what brings a warrior of our esteemed A-Squad to this distant backwater? Weren't you all busy hunting Face Ghosts?"
"You know damn well, so why ask?"
"...?"
"We're here to catch Face Ghosts, obviously!"
"Huh?"
Flying Tiger blinked in shock at Pyeon Bokja's matter-of-fact reply and looked at him again.
What the hell is this guy?
Pyeon Bokja sneered dismissively.
"Heh heh heh. No need for your petty tricks. We already know exactly why you lot came here with your wicked scheme."
"What's th—"
"You're trying to frame us as Face Ghosts, aren't you?"
"..."
Is this guy dissociating or something?
They say mad dogs fear the stick.
Flying Tiger's head throbbed, so he prodded Pyeon Bokja lightly.
"Fine. Anyway, the point is you came all the way here to catch Face Ghosts too?"
"Obviously!"
"But there's a flaw in what you said."
"A flaw?"
"Don't know what a flaw is? It's the defect or error in speech from improper use."
"What are you getting at?"
"What have you been doing all this time to only now reach this far-flung place? Didn't Face Pursuit Squad pour in time and resources to get you hunting Face Ghosts?"
"That's..."
"I get it. I didn't know before, but after experiencing it myself, now I do. A bunch of maggots trying to get anything done—no matter how trivial—it's bound to fail miserably, right?"
"Maggots?"
"Yeah. Maggots. Tiny critters inferior to humans, beasts, birds, fish, you name it. Including you, who got nabbed by me while running away, by the way."
"You son of a...!"
As Pyeon Bokja's eyes twitched in seizure-like fury, Flying Tiger spread his open palm and sternly intervened.
"Hold on! Calm down and hear me out. I'm explaining the flaw right now. So the flaw is this: what makes you think coming all the way to remote Gansu Province changes anything when your pack of rice maggots couldn't handle it before? You're just picking pointless fights and getting your asses handed to you."
"Heh heh heh. Done talking?"
Pyeon Bokja's eyes rolled back, whites bulging. After trembling violently, he took a step forward.
Did I overdo the provocation?
I wasn't finished yet.
So Flying Tiger retreated a step in sync, rattling off the gist of what he wanted to say like a machine gun, looking troubled.
"No, hear me out a bit more? Look, my point is, how do you plan to catch Face Ghosts with those pathetic skills? Especially now that most of you've been smashed to bits by me?"
"We have plenty. And the ones who died to you were just the underlings I brought along for convenience—not me or my comrades."
Pyeon Bokja answered as he advanced another step, and Flying Tiger backpedaled again, thinking.
Even in this state, he's answering every question. His pride must be seriously wounded. What now? Hit him while he's responding.
"Aha! So your underlings were the maggots. Good thing. I was shocked thinking those were official members of the famed A-Squad. So how many in A-Squad total?"
"Six, from Squad Leader and First Warrior Yeo Hoe of the Thousand Chasing Spear downward."
"Hmm, with Thousand Chasing Spear as First and you as Fifth, there's a Sixth Warrior under you. And each probably keeps maggots like you do."
"Kukuku. Maggots... Anything else you want to ask?"
By now, Pyeon Bokja's steps quickened, pressing Flying Tiger.
Flying Tiger felt a pang of regret at ending the chat with this rare straight shooter.
So what else to ask?
"Then, is your A-Squad's Third Warrior... what was it? One-Horned Ox? One-Horned Ox Mo Ak-chu?"
"Ho, where'd you hear that?"
"It’s true. Red nails...!"
Shk.
A-Squad's Fifth Warrior Pyeon Bokja lunged at Flying Tiger. Right as he spat out the words, his speed was beyond imagination. His body stretched like sticky rice cake.
Shifting Form, Changing Position.
They say you see it but don't really see it? The phrase "moving so fast the opponent can't even register it" might fit the lightness skill Pyeon Bokja was demonstrating now.
If it were Flying Tiger from a few months ago.
But now, Flying Tiger's eyes caught it.
'Clean and crisp.'
Flying Tiger planted his withdrawing foot firmly and brought his heavy saber down on the thrusting Pyeon Bokja. He couldn't put full power into it, but he focused on a precise strike. This was possible because Flying Tiger had already warmed up.
Whoosh-
Pyeon Bokja had been biding his chance amid their "pleasant" talk(?), but Flying Tiger had sharpened his blade in his mind during the "informative" exchange.
In other words, from the moment they began conversing, the fight had already started.