Out of the Cage
A vast village sprawled at the mouth of Sipmandaesan.
Moyong Cheonghye gazed through the window at a small birdcage. Inside, a single bird flapped and fretted, pecking furiously at the latch with its beak.
Trapped because it had failed to slip free in time. The sight felt uncomfortably close to their own situation, and a quiet kinship stirred in her chest.
"Are the preparations for our escape complete?"
Captain Jeok Unyeop asked in a low voice. He looked over the Myeolmade members and Namgung Jin one by one, making a final check.
Ever since the Beggar Sect spies had been uncovered one after another, the area had tightened into something like a fortress.
Searchers hunting for outsiders combed every corner of the village like a spider's web, and that net was drawing steadily tighter. They could delay no longer.
"Yes, we're ready. It feels strange without a sword at my side."
Moyong Cheonghye, her beauty hidden behind a human-skin mask and the plain clothes of a village wife, brushed the empty place at her waist and murmured the words.
A hand that had spent a lifetime at a sword's hilt, cutting down the wicked, now held a basket instead. Of course it felt wrong.
Beside her, Dang Yeohye huffed and puffed in children's clothes sized for her petite frame.
"Why do I have to play the daughter?"
When people moved along the roads, the first group to draw suspicion was always a cluster of dark-clad men. The last to raise eyebrows was a family with a child in tow.
So the Myeolmade party would disguise themselves as a demonic cult family and try to break out from the very heart of enemy territory.
"Vice-Captain, is this really right?"
Dang Yeohye, face full of resentment, called to Moyong Cheonghye in her shabby cotton clothes.
"Vice-Captain? Don't we have a different title for this place?"
"...Uh. Mother."
Dang Yeohye's face flushed red with pure humiliation.
Only then did Moyong Cheonghye, false wrinkles painted on by the mask, smile as if the answer pleased her.
She might stay cold toward everyone else, but the moment Dang Yeohye—who had formed such a deep bond with Moyong Cheongjin outside—was involved, real emotion flared to life.
"Someone of your age and martial prowess who can still pull off a child's act—there are only a handful like you even in the Murim Alliance. You could almost call it a talent."
"...I don't need this kind of talent."
She was a proud martial artist who had already proven her skill and her worth, she insisted, and the thing she hated most in the world was being treated like a child. Her voice was thick with complaint.
"This is an emergency. Swallow that temper of yours for the sake of a safe return, Poison Claw Mountain Blood."
Everyone knew the fiery nature and the reputation of Poison Claw Mountain Blood.
Fearing she might lose her mind the moment some demonic cultist treated her like a kid during the escape, the others each tossed in a word of warning.
"But why do I have to be the youngest daughter?"
"What, with that build of yours you want them calling you Mother?"
Jeok Unyeop's dry retort shut her up at once.
"...Damn it."
But she soon fixed a glare on Namgung Jin beside her.
"Young Hero Namgung, do you really think this works? There's a natural grown-up air in the way I talk and move—won't that just make them more suspicious?"
Namgung Jin answered with perfect calm.
"Not at all. It suits you perfectly."
"Argh...!"
Faced with unanimous agreement, Dang Yeohye stomped out of the room in a temper.
"Truly a fiery disposition. I wonder what sort of man will end up living with a woman like that."
At the captain's words the others offered bitter smiles.
If she charged head-on even at her superior, it was hard to imagine her turning into a gentle lamb in front of someone she liked.
Surprisingly, such a thing had happened once before—but that territory lay far beyond what any of them could guess.
"At least it won't be my little brother."
Remembering how close the two of them had seemed, Moyong Cheonghye murmured the words under the grip of an emotion she could not name.
The Myeolmade captain tilted his head and spoke.
"Little brother? You mean Moyong Hwi? Does that young hero have some connection with Lady Dang?"
"..."
The brother she had thought of was a different younger sibling entirely.
She simply could not bring herself to say the name aloud.
When a person waits and waits and still no word arrives, unease sets in.
Even the Alliance Leader of the Murim, a man who had weathered every storm and carried enormous responsibility, was no exception.
Namgung Soseon stood by the window staring into some far-off place. With every passing hour he slipped further from the Murim Alliance Leader and closer to simply being a father named Namgung Soseon.
Word had been cut off for two full months, and his patience had reached its limit.
"I can wait no longer."
Resolve rang clear in the voice of a man who could endure no more.
Knowing full well the decision might only invite greater danger, Namgung Soseon resolved to dispatch a rescue party toward Sipmandaesan.
"Elder Ilhogae, Strategist Zhuge Seon—can you assemble trustworthy people?"
Yet forming a rescue party brought its own problems. For the sake of secrecy and reliability, the team had to be kept small.
Sipmandaesan was unequivocally Ming Cult territory. If they shoved an entire Murim Alliance force across the border and a battle broke out, it would amount to a massive provocation along the frontier—and war could follow at once.
What they needed was a discreet, efficient, utterly dependable handful of true experts.
"I will select a few useful individuals, including members of the Negotiation Corps."
More important than raw skill was secrecy. They were heading into the enemy's heartland; no matter how strong someone was, a leak would only produce more hostages or corpses.
That was why Zhuge Seon promised to choose only the most trustworthy candidates with the utmost care.
Namgung Soseon's gaze then turned to Ilhogae, as if asking whether the Beggar Sect had anyone of the same caliber.
"As the Alliance Leader is well aware, the Beggar Sect has suffered extreme personnel losses in this affair..."
Ilhogae's deeply lined face showed open hesitation.
"Mm. That is true."
The Alliance Leader gave a short grunt of understanding.
They were almost certainly the busiest faction right now. The manpower they could spare would be sharply limited.
"However, I believe I can arrange for two skilled Transcendental Peak Realm martial artists."
"Oh, two of them... Who are they?"
In this vast jianghu, martial artists the Beggar Sect itself could vouch for—and Transcendental Peak Realm at that.
The Alliance Leader's face lit with expectation.
"Troubleshooters currently in Beijing. You have likely heard the rumors."
"Trustworthy Transcendental Peak troubleshooters in Beijing... Surely you don't mean that Dog-Beating Dragon fellow?"
Namgung Soseon thought of the young man to whom he himself had bestowed that moniker.
He had heard the name now rang across the entire Central Plains.
"I witnessed their exceptional sense of chivalry myself during the Dragon-Phoenix Bloodshed. But this matter also involves my son's life. Can they truly be trusted?"
The real questions underneath were: Are their lips loose enough that word might leak? And as outsiders, can you truly guarantee them?
"Yes. Unlike the Beggar Sect's main forces, if they suddenly vanish it will not draw Ming Cult suspicion. Their mouths are tight; there is no fear of information leaking."
The great pillars of the orthodox path—the Beggar Sect, the Namgung Family—were of course under constant Ming Cult surveillance. The power they could quietly pull back was limited to one or two people at most.
But the experts of that office would be no problem, Ilhogae insisted.
"Furthermore, his identity and reliability... the Beggar Sect itself will guarantee."
He was, after all, an unofficial candidate for the next Dragon Head Chief. If the Beggar Sect could not vouch for him, who could?
Above all, Ilhogae trusted the eye of the Beggar King who had made the young man his unofficial successor.
"Reliable. Send someone at once."
"Yes!"
In the distant lands of Shaanxi, a young man was being drawn—without yet knowing it—into an even greater whirlpool of fate, pulled by the trust and renown he had built up until now.
A rough road through Sipmandaesan where grass grew only in sparse patches.
A single Ming Cult family pushed a small handcart along. The sunset stretched their shadows long across the ground.
Outwardly they looked like a cozy, harmonious family, yet a small, invisible friction simmered underneath.
"A grown young lady having to wear kids' clothes and play the daughter role..."
Dang Yeohye pouted and grumbled that she was now voluntarily doing something she would never have done even with a knife at her throat under normal circumstances.
"It suits you fine, what's the problem?"
Jeok Unyeop watched her and snorted a laugh.
Dang Yeohye's sharp eyes flashed as she glared at him.
"Telling a young woman of marriageable age that children's clothes suit her—even a captain shouldn't be that rude."
At the words "grown young woman," Jeok Unyeop looked her up and down once. She barely reached his chest.
"Heh. A grown young woman, is it..."
The murmur held a great deal of meaning, and Dang Yeohye's gaze flew like a dagger.
"...I am a grown young woman. Even if I look like this, people outside used to call me Big Sister!"
She gritted her teeth and insisted she had been rather well-regarded before joining Myeolmade.
At once, disbelief lit every face of those walking or pushing the cart.
To be called "Big Sister" or "Noona" by someone who was not family required a much younger man she was quite close to.
That a woman with a personality soaked in poison could have formed such a relationship was the shared private opinion of the entire party.
"Captain, what kind of look is that?"
When Dang Yeohye asked, Jeok Unyeop simply shrugged.
"...No meaning at all."
Having clearly read the distrust, she flared up and dragged out a name.
"There really is one, you know! Dan Mujin—bright-eyed, handsome little brother who calls me 'Noona' and follows me around!"
Pride filled her voice as she spoke the name Dan Mujin.
In that instant, Moyong Cheonghye's steps, which had been leading the way, came to a dead halt.
She turned toward Dang Yeohye with the expression of someone who had just overheard something she should never have heard.
"That child... follows you like a real older sister...?"
Even though his actual blood sister was standing right here, her younger brother supposedly treated another woman like a true sister. Shock painted Moyong Cheonghye's face.
"Is that true?"
"Uh, well... there might be a little exaggeration, but, uh, it's sort of true..."
The usually gentle woman suddenly blazed with the eyes of the Evil-Slaying Divine Maiden, and Dang Yeohye stammered in panic.
After spending some time in Myeolmade, she had learned that the real power in the unit was Vice-Captain Moyong Cheonghye.
Even the famous Poison Claw Mountain Blood had to yield a step before the terrifying Cold Flower Jade Maiden.
"I made him call me Noona, actually... He doesn't really follow me around, to be honest..."
She mumbled that he only did it because he had to, and finally confessed the full truth.
"The real older sister is me. Remember that."
"...Vice-Captain, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."
Dang Yeohye looked thoroughly bewildered.
Just as she scratched her cheek and hesitated over how to answer, a sharp shout cut through the air.
"You there! Who are you? Show yourselves at once!"
Two sentries on patrol around the village had spotted them from a distance.
Their hands—First-class experts by the look of them—moved toward the signal whistles. The moment those whistles sounded, their quiet escape would turn into a desperate chase.
"I asked who you are! Answer now!"
The sentry's voice echoed.
"Oh my, we're just simple folk heading back to the next village, that's all."
Disguised as a middle-aged man, Myeolmade Captain Jeok Unyeop put on a harmless face and voice, stressing how ordinary and unthreatening their party was. The sentries still refused to drop their suspicion.
Then, from the skirts of a rather pretty village wife, a child peeked out with a faintly frightened face.
When the little girl blinked her scared eyes, the sentries finally lowered their whistles and eased their guard a fraction.
"This whole area is closed off for the time being! Get back to the village at once or I'll cut your throats myself!"
They stamped closer, voices raised in open threat.
At the exact moment their caution hit its lowest point, a flash of steel appeared in Jeok Unyeop's hand.
He drew a short dagger from his robes and, without the slightest hesitation, slit the nearest sentry's throat.
"Ghk—gah..."
Almost in the same breath, the hidden needle Dang Yeohye shot buried itself deep in the second sentry's neck.
"You bastards... ghk."
Clutching their throats, the Ming Cult sentries collapsed with expressions of pure disbelief.
"We need to hurry. Time is not on our side."
Jeok Unyeop muttered the words as he and Namgung Jin dragged the bodies into the underbrush.
Beijing. Sunlight heavy with sunset was just about to pour through the office windows.
I was dealing with a visitor who had dropped by the agency after a long absence, and it was already giving me a headache.
"What the hell? My big brother hyped you up so much I came expecting something impressive, but you're nothing special."
Looks like another troublesome client had just walked through the door.