Chapter 49
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Preliminary Work (2)
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“Is Master Ho Ye-hwa on his way?”
“He set off about a quarter of an hour ago, so he should arrive any moment now. What are your orders?”
“Hmm.”
Six of the seven masked and armed men waited for one man's decision. That was because he held the highest rank among them right now.
And so the rest called this man the First Cleaner. The ones gathered here were another crew of Choeojin's cleaners.
As dusk fell, Flying Tiger was caught wandering Changan City within Choeojin's surveillance net, sparking a major commotion.
The cleaners dispatched just days earlier to capture him had all vanished without a trace, so investigators had been sent out to uncover what happened. Meanwhile, to prepare for any sign of Flying Tiger, they were guarding key routes around the city and several other spots.
And then, there he was—Flying Tiger, bold as brass, all by himself.
Choeojin's emergency network sprang into action, and the cleaners were mobilized.
The leader of this operation was none other than the "Ho Ye-hwa" mentioned earlier by the masked men.
*Ho Ye-hwa He never shut up, always dragging in some example or anecdote from dawn till dusk, earning him the nickname "Parable Lover." In short, he was a blabbermouth. Separately from that, he wielded twin swords with astonishing skill, making him one of Choeojin's elite cleaners, just like the deceased Taemjeok-hwa.*
So the situation stood as follows.
The first group of mobilized cleaners had pursued Flying Tiger and surrounded the tavern area. Ho Ye-hwa, who had been tied up with other duties, was running a step behind and en route now.
But Flying Tiger couldn't wait just a little longer—he'd stepped right out of the tavern.
Capturing him alone would have been simple; they could have just shadowed him quietly. However, since the man he'd been chatting with inside (A-ryuk) seemed to be in league with him, they needed to take him down too, which meant making a move.
“Fifth Cleaner and Sixth Cleaner, tail the target quietly. The rest of you stand by with me. Once the target vanishes from sight, we raid the tavern. Securing the man who spoke with the target is priority one, but just in case, we'll make everyone inside kneel and interrogate them all.”
“Understood.”
The masked men murmured their affirmations, but Fifth Cleaner hesitated and voiced a differing opinion.
“Uh...”
“What?”
“Why not just subdue the target outright? The two of us should be enough for that.”
“Impossible. He's the one who already wiped out Taemjeok-hwa's cleaner squad. You two just track his movements until Parable Lover arrives.”
“Hm, I don't think the target is some peerless master.”
“I agree. But aren't you the same, Fifth Cleaner—not some peerless master?”
A few masked men chuckled at First Cleaner's rebuke, and he reiterated firmly.
“Until we gauge the enemy's strength, we proceed with maximum caution. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Fifth and Sixth Cleaners set off after Flying Tiger.
First Cleaner counted to thirty inwardly, then led the remaining masked men charging into the tavern.
Bam!
First Cleaner kicked the tavern door open and bellowed,
“Everyone freeze! And you.”
The direction he pointed was toward A-ryuk, who had just sent Flying Tiger off and was rising from his seat.
The masked men pouring in behind him drew their swords in unison, glaring murderously at the tavern patrons.
It was a clear threat: stay quiet, or taste the blade.
A-ryuk's surprise lasted only a moment before he calmly countered from his seat,
“Who might you gentlemen be?”
“Shut up and come out.”
At First Cleaner's nod, Seventh Cleaner advanced on A-ryuk.
That was the moment.
Crash! Clatter!
Someone at a corner table flipped it over and drew a sword. In a flash, Fourth Cleaner leaped in and slashed the resistor diagonally from shoulder to hip—a ruthless strike without a hint of hesitation.
Slash.
The man crumpled, spraying blood.
A stark warning: dare to resist, and this is your fate.
But rather than cow them, it ignited the fuse.
As Seventh Cleaner glanced at the commotion while approaching A-ryuk, A-ryuk slipped a hand under the table and unleashed a hidden weapon. The mechanism was spring-loaded, requiring only the slightest shoulder twitch.
Thwip.
“Guh!”
Seventh Cleaner staggered back with a choked groan, staring down at the cluster of long steel needles embedded in his leg. Moments later, his head spun, and the tavern floor heaved upward.
Thud.
Chaos erupted—curses, clashing weapons, crashing furniture, toppling bodies. Legs of fleeing figures dashed about.
Seventh Cleaner had collapsed from the poison on the needles before taking three steps.
The instant Seventh Cleaner fell to A-ryuk's dart, the tavern patrons surged up as one, desperately charging the cleaners.
The cleaners recoiled at their ferocity.
Even after that show of force, they mob us like this?
They're insane...
“Damn it all, they're all in on it! Cut them down!”
First Cleaner bellowed with infused inner energy, his voice dripping killing intent to snap his comrades back to reality.
He gripped a dagger in each hand and plunged into the fray first.
Thus, an intensely chaotic melee exploded in the cramped tavern.
Crash! Clang! Shatter! Shatter! Shatter!
The tavern had nine patrons inside, and as First Cleaner suspected, they were all Seo Nation Party operatives.
Men hardened by years of stabbing others.
But First Cleaner and his cleaners were equally seasoned butchers of men.
Though from varied backgrounds, each was a top knife-fighter in his own turf.
The difference showed starkly.
Nine against four—the Seo Nation Party had the numbers. Yet once blades met, their men melted away like ice chunks tossed into a bonfire.
“Gaaah! Ack... ack... ah...”
First Cleaner stabbed relentlessly with his twin daggers, and the bald operative's screams dwindled to a mosquito's whine.
But First Cleaner showed no mercy.
Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.
He kept thrusting until, finally withdrawing, the mangled bald man collapsed—long dead.
Thud.
Blood-soaked and heaving, First Cleaner spat,
“Fucking worthless scum.”
At that moment, Second Cleaner deftly parried a charging operative's sword and drove a sneaky palm into his gut.
Thump.
The operative doubled over, vomiting up his meal.
Second Cleaner spun, slashing the bowed man's nape. Crack. He spat on the tumbling corpse.
Ptooey.
With that, the fight wound down.
Amid the slaughterhouse interior stood four survivors.
On Choeojin's side: First, Second, and Fourth Cleaners. For the Seo Nation Party: only A-ryuk, half-collapsed against the corner wall.
A-ryuk had survived because his men threw themselves as shields to protect him. And for the cleaners, he was valuable alive—for interrogation.
In short, their interests aligned perfectly.
“Kitchen?”
“They all bolted—secret passage, probably. No one left. Bet they're with this lot.”
“Heh heh, is that so? We'll find out soon enough. Bind him first.”
First Cleaner glared at A-ryuk, eyes gleaming with dark intent, pondering how best to make him suffer.
A-ryuk's world went black as his men died around him in an instant. But with his own fighting spirit broken by those earlier needle pricks, he could only fume as Second and Fourth Cleaners dragged him to a chair and tied him down.
“Slaughtering people left and right without a word—who the hell are you murderers?”
“This bastard sure talks a lot.”
Crack.
First Cleaner wrenched A-ryuk's mouth open and yanked out a front tooth. He wiped the blood-and-spit-smeared hand on A-ryuk's clothes, then warned,
“I ask the questions. One more peep, and I'll pull every tooth. Clear?”
“Urgh...”
“That means you get it, right? Good. Now, the guy you were chatting so cozily with right before we arrived. Flying Tiger, was it? What was that friendly little talk about? Who the hell is that bastard?”
A-ryuk stared at the masked man in shock.
All this for Flying Tiger?
This mess just to ask that?
Then...
“Are you from the Choeojin organization by any chance?”
“Huh? You know us? Oh, this is a problem.”
This time, First Cleaner was the startled one.
They prided themselves on secrecy, always masking up for ops, yet this random thug knew their name off the bat. Unbelievable.
But it was too early for shock.
Stumble.
Fourth Cleaner, who had been leaning against the tavern entrance to watch outside, suddenly backpedaled.
What the—?
First and Second Cleaners whirled around. Fourth Cleaner clutched his throat, trembling violently before collapsing.
As he toppled sideways, blood gushed between his fingers.
“Th...”
Flying Tiger stood in the now-open doorway!
Whoosh.
First Cleaner instinctively retreated, drawing his twin daggers as alarms blared in his mind.
Why's he back here?
No, more importantly—where are Fifth and Sixth Cleaners tailing him?
And how did Fourth...
Questions piled up, but no time to dwell.
Flying Tiger charged like lightning.
Thud-thud.
He lunged straight at Second Cleaner, closer by half a step, thrusting his sword.
Second Cleaner swung powerfully, forcing Flying Tiger back diagonally. Caught off guard like First Cleaner, he played defensive—sound strategy, factoring in First Cleaner's support.
Clang!
Swords clashed.
But against Second Cleaner's intent to deflect, Flying Tiger's blade ricocheted, then whirled ferociously.
Sudden acceleration—like a live eel thrashing wildly.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Second Cleaner's face hardened as he parried, breath catching after just three steps.
It was speeding up, growing heavier!
As dizziness gripped him with creeping fear,
First Cleaner burst in from the side, stabbing at Flying Tiger's flank.
In that instant,
Flying Tiger shifted right with slippery footwork.
On his fourth step, he hooked a chair leg and hurled it at the retreating Second Cleaner.
Whoosh.
The chair flew like a cannonball. Second Cleaner, just catching his breath, unleashed a desperate palm strike.
Crack!
The chair shattered into fragments, exploding forward like scattered darts from his full-force blow.
Dead ahead: the retreating Flying Tiger and closely pursuing First Cleaner.