Chapter 52
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Chapter 15: Mutual Carnage (2)
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Flying Tiger had planned for a second round, but there was a minor issue. It hadn't even been an hour since he'd bolted after getting thoroughly chewed out by Ho Ye-hwa.
That was why Ho Ye-hwa had come rushing to confront him alone without a second thought. There was no reason to fear some underling, after all.
Did he have some other trick up his sleeve?
It wasn't so much a trick as a matter of mindset.
Flying Tiger had replayed the moment Ho Ye-hwa used his Phantom Shift while fleeing, and upon observing the man chasing him afterward, he'd concluded that Ho Ye-hwa wasn't quite the master he'd first seemed amid the panic on the mountain path.
'If he were that formidable, he'd have caught and shredded me ages ago. So that Phantom Shift he showed off is real enough, but it's probably his special trump card. In that case, no reason I can't play along. Perfect timing to test something out, too.'
"Hey, good hustle getting here. Before we talk, how about a quick spar?"
Those were the words Flying Tiger tossed out as he strode forward to meet the approaching Ho Ye-hwa. He swung his sword around emphatically to make his intentions clear.
Ho Ye-hwa scanned the surroundings, wondering if there was some trap, then tilted his head in confusion.
"You were running scared the whole time, and now suddenly a change of heart? Don't tell me you think I'm alone here and easy pickings? Or that I've worn myself out by now and can't fight back?"
"Scared, huh? You talk too much."
"Pfft-haha! That punk. Well, I don't have to chase anymore, so thanks for that. Really, I appreciate it, but..."
Ho Ye-hwa cut himself off mid-sentence and lunged at Flying Tiger.
Whoosh.
His figure blurred into an afterimage without fail, popping up abruptly at Flying Tiger's left side.
In the blink of an eye.
But Flying Tiger twisted his body swiftly to meet him. As Ho Ye-hwa thrust with the sword in his right hand, Flying Tiger parried it short and stepped back half a pace.
Clang.
Then Ho Ye-hwa slashed at Flying Tiger's waist with the sword in his left hand like lightning. The first strike had been a feint; this was the real one.
Clang~
A resounding clang like splitting iron echoed, and Flying Tiger was sent flying back mercilessly.
Nearly three zhang.
Flying Tiger's body was tilted at an angle from the deflection, his sword pointed downward, left hand bracing the flat of the blade.
He'd been pushed back, but his eyes remained calm, exuding only cold killing intent.
Ho Ye-hwa's gaze, by contrast, brimmed with shock. He'd dismissed Flying Tiger as inferior, yet his committed combo attack had come to nothing.
And what nagged at him most was Flying Tiger's initial movement.
'How did he know to dodge right there, like he timed it perfectly? Did he read my move?'
Ho Ye-hwa's face stiffened. His mind raced with thoughts as he glared at Flying Tiger, who was striding closer once more.
Flying Tiger quickened his pace and then leaped in.
Swinging his sword as he did.
The strike didn't match Ho Ye-hwa's astonishing footwork, but it was fast and ferocious enough.
Scree—
The blade sliced across Ho Ye-hwa's chest. His flesh tore like paper scraps and scattered like smoke.
Phantom Shift again.
This time, Ho Ye-hwa appeared behind Flying Tiger and swiftly struck at the back of his neck.
A committed counter.
But Ho Ye-hwa's sword merely cleaved empty air.
Swish.
Incredibly, Flying Tiger had left an afterimage and vanished somewhere!
Ho Ye-hwa didn't even have time to be surprised. Amid the scattering afterimage, Flying Tiger's sword thrust out.
The timing pierced his guard perfectly—a flawless counter.
Stab.
"Huh?"
Stab. Stab.
Ho Ye-hwa let out a dazed sound before realizing the situation, having taken two more thrusts.
This wasn't the time for distractions.
He was in deep trouble!
Ho Ye-hwa crossed his twin swords in an X with all his might and swung.
Slash—
It was a desperate counter, forcing out power at the cost of internal injury. With death looming, he had no luxury for finesse.
The twin blades, infused with sword qi, tore through space viciously, and in exchange, Ho Ye-hwa spewed a mouthful of blood.
But it was all for naught. Flying Tiger had already leaped back.
'What an idiot.'
Ho Ye-hwa muttered in disbelief through bloodied lips.
He'd taken the thrusts squarely, shocked himself into self-inflicted injury, and no sooner had he done so than Flying Tiger lunged again.
Drained in body and spirit, Ho Ye-hwa couldn't hold out more than a few exchanges after that.
As Flying Tiger pressed relentlessly with his sword, then abruptly retreated as if sweeping the courtyard with a broom, Ho Ye-hwa twisted his left ankle.
Crack.
Ho Ye-hwa staggered.
Flying Tiger disarmed him with the speed and precision of a seasoned butcher dismantling an ox.
Stab. Stab. Stab.
Thud.
In an instant, Ho Ye-hwa lay sprawled in a starfish shape, blinking up at the clear night sky, reduced to that pitiful state.
Flying Tiger crouched beside the fallen man and said,
"Alright, now finish what you were saying earlier. You appreciate it, but what?"
Ho Ye-hwa trembled as Flying Tiger's shadow loomed over him in the moonlight, his legs going weak.
...
The two shared a highly informative conversation for about an hour.
Ho Ye-hwa spilled everything Flying Tiger asked, down to the trivial details. At first, he tried to act tough, but Flying Tiger answered with actions instead of words. Before long, Ho Ye-hwa's tongue loosened completely, rambling on about things unasked, losing track of time.
In truth, Ho Ye-hwa glossed over or feigned ignorance on the crucial bits, prattling about everything under the sun.
Flying Tiger let it slide. He had other plans for the fish he'd hooked.
Eventually, he cut off Ho Ye-hwa, who was in the midst of passionately recounting his miserable, unjust childhood.
"Enough."
"Huh? This part's just getting good."
"Forget it. Night's deep; let's wrap this up."
"Cough. Why the sudden change?"
"Sudden? Looks like your buddies finally showed. Time to clean up and bounce."
Ho Ye-hwa flinched.
He'd been stalling to hold out until his allies arrived, but the enemy had known all along. And from the looks of it, Flying Tiger planned to finish him off before leaving.
Thump-thump.
Flying Tiger scowled, growing angrier the more he thought about it, and spat on the ground before venting.
"Hah~ damn it, what a pain. If there was money in it, fine, but these worthless pests keep clinging on without a single coin to show for it. Tell me, don't my recent fortunes seem downright rotten even to you?"
"Uh... excuse me?"
"What?"
"Are you... looking for work? For pay?"
"Who'd turn down money? What, you offering to cut off your own head for a bounty?"
"Ahem. Not that, but actually, our organization happens to have..."
Ho Ye-hwa blurted it out like a machine gun in his panic, while Flying Tiger eyed him coldly, thinking,
'From here on, you'd better say exactly what I want to hear. Your life depends on it.'
Ho Ye-hwa hadn't realized it yet, but Flying Tiger had deliberately avoided his vital points with every stab and slash. The wounds to flesh and muscle would heal with a month or two of rest. And now, he'd even opened a conditional path to survival.
Why?
Because Flying Tiger had pegged Ho Ye-hwa as the perfect middleman to link him with the higher-ups of Choeojin.
The value he planned to pitch to them was roughly this:
一. A skilled, bold ronin not easily taken down.
一. But one who'd betray anyone for the right price.
一. And conveniently close to Jin Ga-yong.
Ho Ye-hwa proved as talkative as expected. The problem was he talked too much.
It caused more delay than anticipated, and Flying Tiger couldn't slip away in time. The approaching foes were stronger than he'd figured.
Just three, sparse but potent.
Two felt on par with Ho Ye-hwa, whom he'd spared, or Tan Jeok-hwa, whom he'd slain.
From Flying Tiger's view, two at once would be tough; one-on-one, manageable with effort.
But the last one screamed elite— at least a cut above the other two, by the feel of him.
A true master immune to petty tricks.
Capture meant death!
What to do?
Flying Tiger ran for his life, sweat pouring.
Not easy, though. One hunter excelled in lightness skill. Fortunately, not overwhelmingly faster than Flying Tiger, but enough that shaking him proved hard.
Thus, Flying Tiger got caught repeatedly, each time bull-rushing through with resolve to take a hit. Stopping meant doom.
Red welts multiplied on his body; before two gak passed, he was a bloody mess.
Thankfully, prior scouting of the route let him use terrain to barely maintain distance from the hunters.
Thus, he reached his final destination without capture.
The Red Lantern Temple grounds, far from the capital—home base of the Face Pursuit Squad.
A massive commotion erupted.
Bloody Flying Tiger declared his identity to the blocking warriors, warned of powerful foes, and collapsed as if fainting.
Immediately after, the three masked Choeojin pursuers appeared, felling or maiming many defenders—mostly vigilante warriors.
Temple warrior monks joined the fray, but even they couldn't subdue the three rampaging Choeojin elites.
Casualties mounted.
Only when Red Lantern Temple and Face Pursuit Squad masters mobilized did they repel the audacious masked foes.
But "repel" was generous; none were captured or killed. They'd simply withdrawn, outnumbered.
Anyway.
In the aftermath, the unconscious Flying Tiger was carried to the second-floor infirmary at Face Pursuit Squad headquarters.
The HQ was deserted, internal guards minimized. They had to prepare for more external threats tonight.
Thus, personnel were temporarily pulled for bolstered perimeter defense, mobile units dispersed to key outposts—including many resident masters.
A noisy, anxious night all around.
Just before dawn, as the uproar died down and exhaustion peaked for the waking...
Flash.
Flying Tiger, lying still as death until then, opened his eyes and rose quietly.
The Face Pursuit Squad HQ infirmary—virtually empty.