The End of an Evil Bond
Wolyeong Pavilion, the third-largest courtesan house in Chengdu, was bustling with customers despite it being the middle of the day.
"Come here, darling!"
"Hohoho!"
Tang Woo was once again neglecting his duties as commander of the Inryong Squad, whiling away his hours with courtesans dressed not so much in clothing as in the bare suggestion of it. Had he shown even a flicker of interest in the squad's affairs, he might have noticed that Eon Jungmi was siphoning off clan funds. But he hadn't the faintest dream of what was unfolding within the Tang clan.
To catch him, Samryong arrived at the pavilion's front gates alongside the Dark Dragon Squad.
"This brings back memories."
"It has been a while, hasn't it?"
At Samryong's remark, Tang Chiyeol glanced over—whereupon Dang Bong-gi, vice commander of the Dark Dragon Squad, cut in.
"Tang Chiyeol, watch your tongue in front of the Third Young Master."
The man's face was carved with stubbornness so plain that anyone could see there wasn't an ounce of flexibility in him. Bulging eyes, a squared jaw, a mouth set in obstinate refusal. One look at his face told you everything about his temperament.
"Enough. Let's go inside. We have one more place to visit after this."
"Yes, sir!"
The sight of the Dark Dragon Squad appearing in broad daylight, clad head to toe in black, set off alarm bells among the patrons. One by one, they began quietly slipping out of Wolyeong Pavilion.
Tap-tap-tap.
The moment they stepped inside, Bi Wol-yeong, the madam of Wolyeong Pavilion, came down to greet them. Despite being well past forty, she remained strikingly alluring, and she approached them wreathed in a radiant smile.
"To what do we owe the honor of the Third Young Master and the Tang clan's great warriors visiting Wolyeong Pavilion?"
"Tang Woo. Where is he?"
"Well, you see…"
"You would do well to consider your answer to the Third Young Master very carefully."
When Dang Bong-gi warned her with a murderous glare, Bi Wol-yeong felt a bead of cold sweat for the first time in ages. She had entertained countless high officials and members of prestigious sects in her years as madam, but the Tang clan was a house she had always approached with the utmost caution.
They say the Third Young Master has changed. I took it for rumor, but he seems like an entirely different person… and the ones behind him are the Dark Dragon Squad…
Thanks to the instincts honed over a lifetime in her trade, her deliberation did not last long.
"He is on the fifth floor."
The fifth floor of Wolyeong Pavilion—accessible only to guests of the very highest caliber. Money alone wasn't enough; one needed genuine social standing as well.
Samryong had frequented plenty of brothels back in his days as a degenerate, but he had never once laid eyes on the fifth floor of Wolyeong Pavilion. In truth, he might have gone his whole life without seeing it.
"Must be nice, all that money. Madam, don't worry—we won't be smashing up your goods. Thanks for your cooperation."
"If it is the Tang clan's request, then of course I must comply."
"Never thought I'd see the fifth floor in my lifetime."
"We are not here on an outing."
"I know."
And so Samryong led the way with the Dark Dragon Squad at his heels, while Bi Wol-yeong swiftly set about smoothing over the atmosphere inside the establishment.
"From here onward, entry is forb—Dark Dragon Squad! Urk!"
The men guarding the entrance to the third floor—Inryong Squad members by the look of them—moved to block the way and were subdued in a single breath.
Hearing the commotion, the squad members stationed on the fourth floor came down and met Samryong face to face.
"Third Young Master, what brings you to a place like this?"
"I regret to inform you that you must turn back. This is a place the Third Young Master cannot enter."
"Well, Wolyeong Pavilion's dead in the water now. Hahaha!"
At that quip, Dang Bong-gi, climbing up to the fourth floor, fixed them with a ferocious glare.
"How dare you speak to the Third Young Master in such a manner."
"…The Dark Dragon Squad? Why are they—"
"Your crimes will be paid for with your—"
"Calm down. We should give them a chance."
Samryong soothed Dang Bong-gi, then drew something from his robe.
"Step aside."
"That's…"
"The… the Execution Writ!"
Every member of the Tang clan knew the Execution Writ on sight. It was an object only the direct-blooded clan lord could possess—and Samryong holding it meant he had come bearing the clan lord's authority.
"Where is Tang Woo? Move."
Either they couldn't hear him, or they had no intention of yielding.
"I did give you a fair chance, didn't I? Everyone saw it?"
Shlak!
Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, Samryong's hand moved like a flash of lightning.
"Urk!"
"Gack!"
"Keh!"
Three throwing daggers had somehow already pierced their throats. It was skill worthy of the word inhuman.
"Hm."
Samryong spoke with icy calm as he watched them tumble lifelessly down to the first floor, daggers still buried in their necks.
"Dark Dragon Squad—anyone who obstructs the execution, cut them all down."
"Third Young Master! We'll step asi—urk!"
"Gwaaah!"
"Aaaagh!"
Before the Dark Dragon Squad's overwhelming might, the Inryong Squad members died without putting up even token resistance.
"To think the Inryong Squad's skills amount to this. Isn't that a serious problem?"
Tang Chiyeol grumbled, lightly dusting off his hands, and Samryong gave a dry laugh.
"The kind of men who follow you all the way here out of loyalty to Tang Woo—do you think they ever trained properly? Most of them bought their way in with bribes or someone's backing."
Call it what it was: the insides of the Tang clan's Five Great Martial Units had rotted to the core. These days, men entered through connections far more often than through skill. No wonder they couldn't even read the situation despite seeing the Execution Writ with their own eyes, and met their end just like that.
"What about you lot? Refusing too?"
Perhaps it was because a decisive example had been made, but they reached the fifth floor without further incident.
"Hahaha!"
"Hohoho!"
Watching Tang Woo wallow in his debauchery, blissfully unaware of the uproar just outside, Samryong couldn't hold back a sigh.
"Haa…"
"That's exactly how I felt when I saw the Third Young Master last year."
"Tang Chiyeol!"
Dang Bong-gi jabbed a warning, but Tang Chiyeol merely shrugged.
"If he resists hard enough, there'll be unnecessary casualties all around. We need to lure him out quietly."
"How do you plan on doing that? He may not look it, but he's a Peak Realm master."
"There's a way. We just have to cast bait he can't refuse."
"What are you going to do?"
Creeeak.
Leaving Tang Chiyeol's question hanging, Samryong opened the door. The fifth floor, true to its reputation, was furnished on an entirely different level.
Now I understand what 'slathered in money' means.
"Having fun?"
The distinctive musk that hung in the air—rising only when men and women entangled themselves in pleasure—made his face pucker on reflex. The participants never noticed it, but to any third party it was enough to twist one's features outright.
"Kyaaak!"
"Kyaah!"
"Wh… what the—!"
The courtesans shrieked, still half-drunk—and only then did Tang Woo belatedly register Samryong's presence.
"The Third Young Master? The Dark Dragon Squad?"
"Kyaaak! Urk!"
After a moment of taking stock, Tang Woo snatched up the courtesan he'd been dallying with and seized her by the throat.
It's all gone wrong!
Tang Woo instinctively realized that the business with the Geumo Merchant Guild had collapsed.
If I escape from here, I still have a chance!
If he fled to his mother's family and sought their protection, he could at least survive. The Tang clan might be fearsome, but his mother's house served the state itself—they would not be easy to touch.
Tang Woo, who grew sharper than anyone whenever he schemed to escape, frantically scanned his surroundings.
"Don't come any closer!"
He looked ready to snap the courtesan's neck at any moment. Whatever his failings as a leader of men, reading a situation was something he did better than any of his underlings.
"Please, calm yourself. A man of your standing, Commander of the Inryong Squad, threatening a woman's life—really."
"To hell with the Geumo Merchant Guild! I got dragged into that mess by pure bad luck!"
From Tang Woo's perspective, it was a grievance he was entitled to.
"Then all you need to do is come with us and say exactly that. It's not difficult."
"You're joking! You think I don't know the clan lord? You're planning to use this as a pretext to purge our entire faction!"
"If you're innocent, that won't happen, will it?"
"Ha! Bullshit!"
"Urk!"
When Tang Woo tightened his grip on the woman's throat, Samryong shouted with a look of feigned desperation.
"Fine! In that case, make a wager with me!"
"A wager? Now of all times?"
Tang Woo was incredulous. But Samryong, determined not to give him a moment to think of anything else, threw out the bait at once.
"Yes. I'll stake this."
What Samryong held out was the Execution Writ—and at the sight of it, Tang Chiyeol's and Dang Bong-gi's expressions hardened in an instant.
"What? Do you even know what that is before you start tossing it around?"
"I do. In exchange—if I win, you'll come along quietly?"
"And if I win?"
"You'll be recorded as having slipped away from us here, Execution Writ and all."
The offer was sweet enough that Tang Woo's pupils trembled.
"…You expect me to just take your word for that?"
"The Dark Dragon Squad is deployed all around the building anyway. Honestly, we could subdue you while absorbing a fair bit of collateral damage. But we'd rather not cause any unnecessary destruction. Whoa—one look around here, and if even a single piece gets broken, even the Tang clan would take quite a hit to the treasury."
Who could say what would happen if so much as one item in a room papered with masterpieces were damaged? The remark was pure Tang clan pragmatism, and at the thought of profit, Tang Woo loosened his grip on the courtesan's throat ever so slightly.
"What kind of wager?"
"A very simple one. We each stand at a set distance apart and throw a single dagger to subdue the other."
"What?"
"Merely subduing is fine. Killing the other party is acceptable too."
"You mean to do that with me, right now?"
"Yes."
Tang Woo decided he was being outrageously underestimated, and his eyes turned feral.
"Now that sounds fun."
"Shall we head out, then?"
"Good! And not another word of nonsense."
"Everyone present will serve as witness. Don't worry."
And so Samryong and Tang Woo stood facing each other before Wolyeong Pavilion. Members of the Tang clan, the people of the pavilion, even passersby on the street—all of them became spectators.
"You know some interesting games."
"I picked up a thing or two while living as a degenerate, sir."
"And you call that something to boast about? Got anything more entertaining than this?"
At that, Samryong began shrugging off his outer robe.
"I do. There's a game where you cut, while bound, the cords connected to a crossbow's trigger. Of six cords, only one is actually attached to the trigger. You have to cut around it without touching it."
Those listening felt an involuntary chill crawl up their spines.
"And if you cut the wrong cord? The bound player takes a crossbow bolt straight through the heart and dies. You take turns cutting the cords one by one, and whoever survives wins. Simple, isn't it? Care to play that instead?"
The moment Tang Woo met those slightly unhinged eyes of Samryong's, he realized he had flinched.
To be cowed by the bravado of some green brat…
Tang Woo examined the dagger Tang Chiyeol handed him.
No tricks worked into it.
Tang Chiyeol approached Samryong, passed him a dagger, and muttered under his breath.
"Just what in God's name is this lunacy, hm?"
"What? He's being brought outside nice and clean. He effectively can't run now, either."
"No, that's not the—"
"Stop worrying and just watch."
"Ha… do as you please."
Tang Chiyeol had experienced Samryong firsthand in Guya Forest, and though he felt uneasy, part of him wanted to believe. Samryong had always performed beyond imagination, after all.
"Ready?"
"Aye."
Having shed their cumbersome outer garments, the two stood with a single dagger apiece. For the most advantageous opening and position, they began slowly circling one another, facing off.
Right here will do.
Tang Woo positioned himself with the sunlight at his back. The sky was unusually crisp and clear. It almost felt as if heaven already knew of his victory and was celebrating it in advance.
A brat is a brat. Doesn't even realize what an advantage he's handing me.
Tang Woo toyed with his dagger. A Tang clansman he might be, but Tang Woo had trained far more diligently in fist arts than in the flying dagger. Still, in the manner of all Tang men, he knew the basics of handling one.
"On the count of three, we throw."
"Fine."
But Tang Woo had no intention of honoring that agreement. The instant Samryong spat out the first number, he meant to throw.
"One…"
Die right there—
Flash!
Just as Tang Woo was about to loose his dagger, a searing light struck his eyes.
Damn it!
And then he understood, instinctively, that things had gone badly wrong.
You—you planned this!
Samryong had reflected the sunlight with his dagger!
Tang Woo's vision was a white blur, but he hurled the dagger anyway.
Die, damn you!
Thuck!
Something punctured with a wet sound.
"…What in the—"
No matter how accomplished a Peak Realm master might be, with his sight ruined his accuracy had plummeted. Tang Woo's dagger skimmed past Samryong's cheek by a hair's breadth—while Samryong's dagger pierced Tang Woo's throat with unerring precision.
"You… you…"
Crash!
Tang Woo collapsed to his knees where he stood.
"Urk! Gack… kgh!"
He clawed desperately to staunch the blood, but it was like plugging a breached dam with his fingers. Watching Samryong approach at an unhurried pace, Tang Woo flailed at him with blood-soaked hands.
"You… you have to… take me back… al—kgh!"
He wanted to clutch at Samryong's trouser leg and beg for his life, but with a dagger lodged through his throat, the words would not come out.
"I do believe I've won."
Without a moment's hesitation, Samryong pulled the dagger from his throat.
"You… you! Gwack! Urk!"
One look at Samryong's eyes told him the truth—he had never intended to let him live in the first place.
Thud.
Tang Woo fell, his blood soaking into the dry ground.
The clan lord had ordered him taken alive. Samryong's thinking was different.
That I cannot do. I'll settle this here and now, cleanly, and leave no loose ends.
"Third Young Master."
Dang Bong-gi held out his outer robe, and Samryong rose from his spot, leaving the dying Tang Woo behind him.
"Now, let's go catch Eon Jungmi."
The Dark Dragon Squad fell in behind him.