Chapter 220
Chapter 220
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 61
>Chapter Title: Artisan (3)
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The butchers were all left baffled by Mok Kyung-un's sudden disappearance.
Of course, his companions from the vanguard and rear guard knew he had unleashed an incredibly swift lightness skill, so they were astonished for an entirely different reason.
Then, Gan Yang, the de facto leader of the vanguard, glanced awkwardly at the rear guard's Mong Mu-yak and Seop Chun before speaking in a troubled tone.
"Shouldn't we have stopped Young Master Mok?"
"Stopped him? And how exactly?"
He had vanished before anyone could even say a word.
How were they supposed to stop him?
"With the mask production already a failure, any clash with the Embroidered Uniform Guards could throw our plans even further into disarray."
Gan Yang had assumed that since the Clan Head's arm had been severed, the human skin mask was as good as impossible.
If they got into a fight with the Embroidered Uniform Guards on top of that and things escalated, infiltrating the imperial palace itself might become unfeasible.
Seop Chun responded as if telling him not to worry.
"Just wait and see. Our lord isn't the type to act without thought. And as for the mask production..."
Seop Chun hesitated, unsure how to phrase it.
He had been about to say that if their lord found the Clan Head's severed hands, he could reattach them with his mysterious healing arts—but would these people believe that easily?
Reattaching a severed arm was hard enough to accept in the first place.
Just then, someone came rushing breathlessly into the room.
"Huff... huff... This is bad!"
"Brother Mo!"
The bearded man recognized him and called him Brother Mo.
The man called Brother Mo choked up with regret as he addressed the butchers.
"M-Miss Song A... She's been seized by the Embroidered Uniform Guards for obstructing official duties."
"What? Obstructing official duties?"
"No way, Brother Mo. You just stood there and watched?"
The sudden news left the butchers flustered and outraged.
At that moment,
"You damned bastards!"
*Smack!*
The bearded man, his face twisted in fury, yanked a slaughtering knife from the wall.
He looked ready to charge outside at any second.
Then, someone barked at him.
"Halt!"
The bearded man scowled and stopped just as he was about to bolt out.
The one who had stopped him was none other than the Clan Head.
The Clan Head struggled to his feet and said,
"Haa... haa... What do you think you're accomplishing by charging in too?"
"But Song A..."
"Do you want to make things worse!"
After scolding him, the Clan Head turned to Seop Chun and the others.
"Haa... haa... You all are martial artists from the jianghu, aren't you?"
Gan Yang, the vanguard leader, nodded in response.
"Yes. But Clan Head... You're losing a lot of blood. Please don't push yourself—sit down for now..."
*Thud!*
Before he could finish, the Clan Head dropped to his knees.
"Clan Head!"
"How could you..."
The butchers grew frantic at his actions.
Yet the Clan Head ignored them and pressed on with what he had to say.
"Haa... haa... I'll be fine. More importantly, I have a request for you all."
"A request? What is it?"
"Please help us."
Gan Yang looked troubled by the plea.
They were already in a bind because Mok Kyung-un had acted on his own. If they got into a conflict with the Embroidered Uniform Guards too, it could truly jeopardize their mission.
"Clan Head... I understand your desire to save your daughter, but..."
"Haa... haa... That child... *cough cough*... isn't my daughter."
"What?"
Hadn't all the butchers called her Miss?
So she had to be the Clan Head's daughter. What was this about now?
Then, the bearded man who had been gripping the knife's handle suddenly dropped to his knees like the Clan Head.
"Please help us."
"Brother Song!"
The butchers panicked at his abrupt behavior and tried to dissuade him.
At that moment, the precept-breaking monk Ja Geum-jeong glanced back and forth between the Clan Head and the bearded man called Brother Song, then burst into wild laughter.
"Hahahahahaha! Now I get it."
* * *
*Clang!*
The droopy-eyebrowed Embroidered Uniform Guard couldn't hide his shock.
'This guy's... an expert!'
As a rank-6 White Tiger at the peak entry-level of supremacy, he had put his Seven Stars internal energy into that strike.
For someone to block it with a single finger meant this masked expert's skill far surpassed his own.
'At this level, even the four of us together wouldn't suffice—or we'd need the Thousand Tiger to step in.'
*Whoosh!*
Realizing he couldn't handle this alone, the droopy-eyebrowed guard hurriedly created distance. He raised one hand behind him, signaling the other Embroidered Uniform Guards for aid, and spoke.
"Who are you to interfere in the Embroidered Uniform Guards' duties?"
He deliberately emphasized their status as Embroidered Uniform Guards.
No one in the Central Plains was ignorant of their role as the Emperor's personal guards.
It was to instill caution in his opponent.
No matter how skilled a martial artist, he needed to understand the peril of crossing them.
The black-clothed figure with his face concealed by cloth—Mok Kyung-un—chuckled softly.
"Oh? You're the Embroidered Uniform Guards?"
The guard furrowed his brow at Mok Kyung-un's feigned ignorance.
Was this guy playing dumb on purpose?
It was absurd to claim he hadn't recognized them from their golden belts and brocade uniforms.
The guard pressed on.
"If you truly didn't know, stop here and withdraw. Then we won't pursue charges or question you further..."
Before he could finish,
*Swish!*
Mok Kyung-un closed the distance in an instant.
"Gasp!"
Panicking, the guard swung his sword backward and tried to leap away, but Mok Kyung-un struck his acupoints with lightning speed.
*Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!*
The struck guard's eyes rolled back as he fainted on the spot.
*Thud!*
The other Embroidered Uniform Guards, who had dismounted to assist, crept forward silently, but they couldn't conceal their alarm.
One of them tried to shout toward the carriage.
"Thous..."
*Smack!*
Mok Kyung-un seized the droopy-eyebrowed guard's neck as if to snap it and wagged his free index finger side to side at the others.
It was clear: shout, and your comrade's neck breaks.
'This bastard's taking a hostage?'
The guards who had a comrade held hostage fell silent, hesitating on what to do.
In that instant, Mok Kyung-un's form scattered like smoke.
*Swish!*
'Illusory form shift?'
Illusory Form Shift.
It was the phenomenon where movement was so fast that afterimages lingered.
Startled, they tried to turn back-to-back in a defensive formation.
But before they could,
*Thwack!*
The goateed Embroidered Uniform Guard took a strike to the jaw.
"Urk!"
His head snapped up, eyes rolled back, and he collapsed face-first.
*Thud!*
'This is insane!'
With another comrade down in a blink, the remaining two pressed their backs together, eyes darting wildly in extreme tension.
Yet Mok Kyung-un's shadow didn't enter their sight.
The mounting tension paled their faces.
* * *
The girl with the ponytail, thick eyebrows, and freckles was named Song A.
She was the daughter of Clan Head Hong Bong-yuk and oversaw the slaughterhouse's internal affairs.
Gagged with thick cloth, Song A glared fiercely at the masked Embroidered Uniform Guard standing across from her with arms crossed.
She had chased the Embroidered Uniform Guards relentlessly, demanding the Clan Head's severed hand, only to end up bound and trapped in the carriage.
The masked guard spoke to her.
"Calmed down a bit?"
It was a deep, heavy baritone.
His voice suggested a man of few words.
Song A stared at him intently before nodding.
He removed the cloth gag from her mouth.
"Pah... haa... haa..."
She heaved rough breaths, as if it had been suffocating.
Once she caught her breath, she glared at the masked guard again.
"So the mighty Embroidered Uniform Guard isn't content with taking my father's hand—he's kidnapping me now too?"
"......"
"Where are you even taking me?"
Most women would cower at being captured by an Embroidered Uniform Guard, but she boldly demanded answers.
The masked guard stared at her before replying.
"Watch your words. You caused a disturbance following the procession."
"Disturbance? Is it a disturbance to stop you lot from hacking off my father's hand—which fulfilled your noble request—and carrying it off like war spoils?"
"Quiet down."
"I won't!"
"Want the gag back?"
"Try it. I won't stop my 'disturbance' until you return my father's hand! Kyaaahhh..."
*Tap-tap-tap!*
As Song A tried to scream, the masked guard struck her mute acupoint.
He sighed and shook his head.
Her boldness bordered on recklessness.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
Even with her mute acupoint sealed, she strained to make noise.
The masked guard looked at her.
"You're persistent."
"Mmph!"
"But enough."
"Mmph!"
"You chased after your father's severed hand? Trying to look like a filial daughter, I get it—but it's overkill."
"......"
Song A stopped struggling and glared daggers at him.
He picked up a leather pouch from the floor and shoved it toward her.
"It might've looked convincing if you'd made a scene and left, but why go so far to take this?"
"......"
"Strictly speaking, this isn't even the Clan Head's hand, is it?"
Song A's eyes trembled faintly.
Seeing her subdued demeanor, the masked guard released her mute acupoint with a pressure strike.
*Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!*
He told her,
"I've sealed the carriage interior with qi, blocking sounds from outside. No point shouting. Confess the truth."
Song A clamped her mouth shut.
The masked guard shook his head.
"Fine. Revealing the truth here would put you in a bind. But it's already out."
"......Out? What do you mean?"
He set the leather pouch down and answered.
"This isn't the real Clan Head's hand, is it?"
"What are you saying? You cut off my father's hand and now claim it's not—"
"For a hand from someone who makes human skin masks, the calluses are too uniform."
"What?"
"From what I know, crafting human skin masks is grueling work. An artisan's hands shouldn't stay pristine amid the glue and chemicals. Yet this hand looks no different from a lifelong butcher's."
"......"
Song A's expression hardened further.
Emboldened, the masked guard continued.
"The severed Clan Head is probably a fake. I never expected the real artisan to expose himself so easily."
Song A swallowed dryly, speechless at how he'd pierced the truth.
"No. He really is..."
"If I turned this carriage around now, stormed back to Hong Bong-yuk's, and tore the place apart—would you confess then?"
"......"
*Grit!*
She bit her lip at his not-quite-threat.
She couldn't fool him.
Finally, she admitted it.
"......You're right. He's not the real Clan Head."
"Now we're getting somewhere."
Song A snorted derisively.
"So you've naturally figured out I'm a fake daughter too..."
"Of course you're not that man's daughter—but you're no fake either."
"Huh?"
"That hand."
The masked guard nodded toward her hand.
Her palm was flayed, covered in calluses, with scarcely any unmarred skin.
That convinced him she was the real artisan's daughter.
'Tch.'
Realizing she couldn't deceive him further, Song A could only bite her lip and glare.
"So what now? Take me hostage to find the real one?"
"Is that what you want?"
"Then I'll bite my tongue and die right here."
"For your father..."
The masked guard mulled her words, then chuckled.
"If I really meant to hold you hostage, would we be having this conversation?"
"......What do you mean?"
Bewildered, she asked.
He lowered his voice cautiously, despite the sound barrier.
"I had no choice but to sever the fake artisan's wrist due to orders. Had it been real, I wouldn't have."
"Huh?"
"I'm saying I had no intention of crossing your father, the true artisan."
Song A scowled.
Was this guy testing her?
His sudden shift in attitude was jarring.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Naturally not. But I have circumstances forcing me to obey another's command. I won't ask you to understand."
"......Even if you do, I can't believe it."
"I know. But didn't you say conversing like this would be pointless if I were lying?"
Song A grew increasingly confused.
Was this man's true intent really as he now appeared?
Unable to shake her doubts, she heard him say,
"I'll release you soon."
"Huh? Release me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Didn't I say I have no desire to antagonize you or your father the artisan?"
"......"
"I won't force you to trust me. Once I let you go, take your real father and leave Kaifeng within four days. Not right away, but someone sharp-eyed will eventually notice from this hand. I'll buy you that much time."
"Why... why help us?"
Perplexed by his benevolence, she asked.
The masked guard replied softly.
"It's not for nothing. I need your help too."
"My help?"
"Yes."
"Help? You don't mean..."
"Make me a human skin mask."
"A human skin mask?"
"Yes."
"What kind..."
"Simple. Remake the exact one from the original request."
Song A looked puzzled.
"Why remake the human skin mask?"
"I have no obligation to explain that far. It's mutually beneficial—just produce the same mask. Can you do..."
*Flinch!*
The masked guard stopped mid-sentence.
"What's wrong?"
"......The carriage has stopped."
He had blocked external sounds with qi.
But he could still feel the carriage's vibrations.
Distracted by conversation, he hadn't noticed it had been halted for quite a while.
With that,
*Swish!*
He withdrew his qi, opened the carriage door, and stepped out.
But,
'!?'
Every official and the four Embroidered Uniform Guards outside lay collapsed.
'When?'
He had blocked sounds, but not for that long.
For this to happen in such a short time?
Sensing something amiss, the masked guard moved to press his thumbs to the acupoints beside his ears without hesitation.
But then a voice came from behind.
"Got tired of waiting. How about it? Finished your private chat?"
'An expert...'
Even with his odd channels sealed, approaching silently from behind meant at least transcendent realm.
The masked guard, thumbs poised at his acupoints, kept his composure.
"Who are you?"
A completely unrelated response came from behind.
"Which would be better?"
"What?"
"Should the Embroidered Uniform Guard Thousand Tiger kill all his subordinates and the officials before fleeing? Or should I skin your faces for masks?"
'!!!!!!!'
[End of Chapter 61: Artisan (3)]