Chapter 262
Chapter 262
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 72
>Chapter Title: Clue (1)
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-Poof!
“Guhhh!”
A needle plunged into the center of his fingernail, drawing a groan of agony from the Sickle Murder Ghost.
He wanted to scream his lungs out, but with a rag stuffed in his mouth, he couldn’t.
He had steeled himself as best he could, yet he couldn’t endure the relentless pain.
He prided himself on a spirit strong enough to scale walls, but it had crumbled in less than an hour.
“Uhmmph... uhmmph... mmph...”
“What was that?”
-Pop!
Mok Kyung-un yanked the rag from his mouth.
The Sickle Murder Ghost gasped ragged breaths and barely managed to speak.
“Haa... haa... please... just... kill me...”
“This is only the fifth one. We’re not done yet.”
-Squeeze!
“Mmph.”
Mok Kyung-un stuffed the rag back into his mouth.
Then he slowly pushed another needle alongside the toenail.
-Poof!
“Guhhh.”
The Sickle Murder Ghost twisted his entire body in torment.
But Mok Kyung-un’s expression didn’t change as he jiggled the embedded needle, shaking the toenail.
The writhing Sickle Murder Ghost finally lost consciousness.
-Slump!
As his head lolled forward,
-Smack!
Mok Kyung-un slapped his forehead with an open palm.
The man on the verge of blackout snapped back to awareness.
Upon waking, the hazy figure of Mok Kyung-un filled his vision, making his heart feel like it would stop.
He wished in that instant he could pass out again, but it was a futile hope.
‘This... this bastard really is a demon.’
He had never encountered anyone this ruthless.
He himself had interrogated plenty of people, but never to this extent.
This guy tortured right up to the brink of death without mercy or respite.
It was like he was venting his rage.
All he could do was desperately wish for death.
With both arms severed and his body ruined, he realized death was the only peace left.
“Mmph...”
He mumbled weakly.
Without a word, Mok Kyung-un ripped out the toenail he had pierced.
-Rrip!
“Guhhh.”
The human body was truly wondrous.
You’d think constant pain would make you numb to it, but no.
Each new agony layered atop the old, multiplying the suffering.
Into his ear, Mok Kyung-un whispered sweetly.
“You want to die, don’t you?”
“......”
“Don’t you want to just close your eyes peacefully like this?”
“......”
It was strangely alluring.
He had never heard the promise of death sound so sweet.
If only he could escape this pain right now, he’d do anything...
-Squeeze!
In that moment, the Sickle Murder Ghost bit down on the rag filling his mouth.
He had nearly fallen for the bastard’s temptation in a moment of weakness.
No matter the torment, he couldn’t do anything to aid the one torturing and driving him to death.
Then, through his blurred vision, he saw Mok Kyung-un’s face.
The corners of his mouth were torn up to his ears in a grin.
-Flinch!
At the sight, a chill shot down his spine.
He had just mustered his resolve, yet this guy wasn’t disappointed—he looked delighted.
Why the hell was he so happy?
Why was he grinning like some demon?
As doubts flooded his mind,
-Swish!
Mok Kyung-un placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered softly.
“Good thing. I was worried you’d weaken and give up.”
‘What?’
“Hang in there a bit longer. I want to see you suffer and writhe in pain. The night’s still young.”
‘!!!!!!’
Hearing that, his heart felt like it would shatter.
It wasn’t just about extracting information from him.
This bastard was enjoying the pain and suffering itself.
‘Demon... He’s a demon straight out of the depths of hell.’
He couldn’t think of it any other way.
Terror wrapped around his body and mind, crumbling his hard-fought resolve in an instant.
Who would even appreciate his endurance?
Wouldn’t it all end with his death anyway?
A surge of resentment hit him.
Why did he have to suffer like this alone?
Even if he upheld loyalty and righteousness and died in agony, would they even care?
In the end, even after his death, only they would reap the glory and benefits, right?
Once his thoughts reached that point, his body went limp, as if in despair.
“Hmm. It’d be a problem if you gave up already.”
“......”
Seeing the unresponsive, slack form, Mok Kyung-un smacked his lips in disappointment.
He had hoped for more resistance, but it seemed pointless now.
So he pulled the rag from his mouth.
-Pop!
“Haa... haa...”
As he caught his breath, the Sickle Murder Ghost weakly opened his mouth.
“If you want... something... just... kill me. I can’t... take... anymore...”
-Squeeze!
“Uh?”
Mok Kyung-un grabbed his jaw.
He fixed the man’s head with one hand, then pushed the jaw inward and upward.
-Crack!
With a sound of grinding bones, the Sickle Murder Ghost’s dislocated jaw snapped back into place.
His face had split, shattering all his teeth, and his jaw joint had popped out too.
That’s why his speech had been so garbled.
Now, with the joint reset,
“Let’s hear it now.”
“Haa... haa... how much... more?”
His speech was still slurred without teeth, but it was intelligible now.
He felt no joy from it.
Either way, he was in a position where he had to spill what the bastard wanted just to die peacefully.
But first, he had one question of his own.
“......Before I answer... just one... question.”
“You’ve still got a ways to go, huh.”
At that, Mok Kyung-un reached for the rag again.
The Sickle Murder Ghost flinched in panic and blurted out.
“I-I was just curious how the Sichuan Tang Clan figured out about us.”
“Sichuan Tang Clan?”
Mok Kyung-un furrowed his brow at the words.
What was this about?
Why was this guy suddenly linking him to the Sichuan Tang Clan?
As he puzzled over it, the Sickle Murder Ghost cautiously continued.
“In today’s martial world, only two have reached the realm of Poison Master: the Eight Venom Serpent Staff Guyang So and the Thousand Poison Hands, Tang Clan Head Tang In-hae.”
“And?”
“Guyang So... couldn’t possibly be here, so it has to be the Thousand Poison Hands.”
“Why are you so sure Guyang So isn’t here?”
“That’s...”
Mok Kyung-un’s eyes narrowed at his hesitation.
This reaction made one thing clear.
“Ahh, so you know a lot about this Guyang So. Or maybe he’s one of yours.”
“......”
‘Damn. Stupid mistake.’
The Sickle Murder Ghost cursed his own foolishness.
He didn’t need to mention Eight Venom Serpent Staff Guyang So—it had only confirmed his guess and leaked useless info.
“Don’t worry. I’m not that interested. More importantly, tell me something else.”
“Something else?”
“The mark on your poison bottle—what is it?”
The Sickle Murder Ghost furrowed his brow at the question.
He thought the guy knew something about the mark, but he didn’t?
But Mok Kyung-un pressed hard on his shoulder.
-Squeeze!
“Guh.”
“I’d prefer instant answers. No clever tricks.”
“I-it’s the mark... of the organization.”
“Organization?”
“Y-yes.”
‘So it is a group.’
Just as he’d suspected.
Mok Kyung-un asked another question.
“I get that it symbolizes the organization, but what does this mark mean exactly?”
“......That’s...”
“Not ready yet, I see.”
As he spoke, Mok Kyung-un moved to stuff the rag back in.
The Sickle Murder Ghost panicked.
“I-I don’t know the exact meaning. Just that they added one to the two.”
“Added one to the two?”
What did that mean?
Mok Kyung-un mulled it over.
Adding one to two made [二], and the mark had a longer bottom stroke, clearly meaning two 二.
But what did the vertical line piercing through mean as the added one?
‘Why not just add a horizontal stroke?’
That would make it three 三, fitting the meaning.
Why pierce it vertically and call it adding one?
Was there a hidden meaning?
“There’s already three 三—does that really make sense?”
“......I really don’t know. I just heard they added something that shouldn’t be there.”
“Added something that shouldn’t be there?”
“Hmm.”
Mok Kyung-un stroked his chin.
It was too vague to pinpoint the meaning from this alone.
But it didn’t matter.
Once he learned what they were up to, the answer would come naturally.
So he went for his most pressing question.
“Is the one called Ghost Sword part of your group?”
‘!?’
The Sickle Murder Ghost’s face twitched faintly.
“Guess that’s a yes.”
‘What the hell is this guy?’
The reason for his reaction: no one had ever connected Ghost Sword to them before.
To the bewildered man, Mok Kyung-un voiced his burning question.
“Does the one called Ghost Sword leave your organization’s mark when he kills someone?”
“When he kills?”
“Yes.”
If confirmed, Ghost Sword was definitely the culprit.
Mok Kyung-un stared piercingly.
But the Sickle Murder Ghost gave an utterly unexpected answer.
“Do you think that makes sense?”
“Yes?”
“Why leave a mark after going through the trouble of killing someone?”
“......What do you mean?”
“The dead don’t talk. And corpses rot away. Our organization leaves no traces. So why mark the ones we kill?”
‘!?’
Mok Kyung-un’s eyebrow shot up.
He couldn’t call it a lie—it made sense.
A secretive group had no reason to leave boastful traces.
“Then why leave marks on the killed or on others?”
“......There seems to be a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?”
“We don’t leave our marks on the dead. The ones who carve marks as scars...”
“Who does?”
“Only the one you call Ghost Sword.”
-Pop!
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Mok Kyung-un grabbed his collar, yanked him close, and growled with killing intent.
“Are you messing with me? Ghost Sword already left a mark on a corpse—now you expect me to believe that?”
“I-it’s not a lie. Ghost Sword leaves those marks as a warning.”
“Warning? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know exactly. I just heard he carves those scars on people involved in our operations as a warning. If they ignore it, they pay with their lives, and the scar is erased...”
-Bam!
“Guhk.”
Before he could finish, Mok Kyung-un slammed him to the floor.
The panicked Sickle Murder Ghost insisted.
“It’s true.”
“I confirmed the scar left after death—you’re still trying to fool me.”
“Left the scar and then killed? That can’t be.”
“Can’t be? I saw it with my own eyes.”
“No way. Didn’t I say? Why would Ghost Sword leave a trace that could lead trackers right to him? This... Aaaagh!”
A scream of pain burst from the Sickle Murder Ghost’s mouth.
Mok Kyung-un’s finger had dug into his collarbone.
As the man writhed, Mok Kyung-un’s eyes narrowed to slits, sharpening.
‘......No traces on the dead?’
Mok Kyung-un’s mind grew tangled.
By all the clues so far, Ghost Sword should be the killer.
Yet Ghost Sword supposedly left no traces on the dead.
But Grandfather’s corpse had a scar like the mark.
‘And it wasn’t old.’
The blood in the wound proved it was fresh, carved at the moment of death.
Yet this guy denied it vehemently.
That left two possibilities.
Either he was lying to throw him off, or...
‘......No way?’
Mok Kyung-un’s pupils contracted.
Soon, he gripped the collarbone with his dug-in fingers and yanked the Sickle Murder Ghost toward him.
Grabbing bone directly—it couldn’t not hurt.
“Guhhhh!”
Ignoring the screams, Mok Kyung-un asked.
“If Ghost Sword is one of yours, you’d at least know who he’s killed, right?”
The agonized Sickle Murder Ghost shook his head wildly.
“Guhh. I d-don’t know.”
“Want me to make you remember?”
“It’s true. We’re a point organization—we just follow orders. No one knows exactly what others do.”
“......You don’t know? Sure about that?”
“Y-yes. Unless it’s critical info, it’s not shared.”
“Hmm.”
He seemed desperately earnest, hard to dismiss as a lie.
Mok Kyung-un stared hard, then said.
“Then you’ve never heard the name Mun No.”
“Mun No? Did you just say Mun No?”
“Didn’t you just say info isn’t shared?”
The Sickle Murder Ghost shuddered.
Seeing this odd reaction, Mok Kyung-un probed.
“You know something?”
After grimacing and hesitating, he spoke.
“......If the Mun No you mean is the one we know, it’s the old name of the Camp-Dissolving Medicine Immortal.”
‘!?’
[Chapter 72 Clue (1)] End