Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Translator: Penny
Chapter 14
Where My Sword Points (3)
"You fucking bitch. Get over here and suck me."
Yang Gikang spat out a vicious killing intent, far more malevolent than when he was healthy.
The maidservant trembled as she approached him.
The image of the maidservant whose throat had been torn out earlier flashed through her mind. Could she have been killed for refusing something like this?
But she truly loathed it. She couldn't even bear to look at that hideous, repulsive thing.
"I should just rip your crotch open right here. You think I'm a joke too? Do you, you fucking whore?!"
"No, no, Young Master!" she stammered.
She prostrated herself, tears dripping onto the floor.
"Please forgive me! I... I have someone I'm going to marry."
The face of the man she had promised to marry next year flashed in her mind. She remembered his beaming face as he worked tirelessly at his shop in the marketplace, so proud to have finally saved enough money to rent a small room.
When she first heard the rumor that the maidservant who had served her earlier had been killed, she had even considered running away with him in the dead of night. She had seriously contemplated it.
But abandoning the place she had lived her entire life overnight wasn't easy. Nor could she do that to him, not when he was finally getting settled.
"Shall I summon that bastard here? Are you feeling lonely without a man?"
"Gasp!"
The maidservant's head snapped up.
Yang Gikang's face gleamed with cruelty. His snake-like eyes, capable of anything to torment others, stared back at her. She cried out, her voice trembling, "No! Please, don't do that!"
"Then come here."
Lying motionless, Yang Gikang found his surging lust unbearable. His mind was consumed by a single, violent desire: to ravage and kill.
The woman stumbled toward him, her tear-streaked face only fueling his lust further.
"Hurry, hurry up and do it!"
She lowered her head and parted her lips, her entire body trembling.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
Tears streamed endlessly from her tightly shut eyes.
That's when it happened.
Someone covered her mouth from behind—not to stifle a scream, but to gently close it.
She knew instinctively that this touch meant no harm. Not just because it was so kind and gentle...
Yang Gikang's eyes bulged as he spat out a curse.
"You son of a bitch!"
The hand that had covered the woman's mouth now shielded her eyes.
The next instant:
Whoosh!
A cool gust of wind swept through the air, followed by...
Snikt.
"Aaaaaaaah!"
The woman knew from the strangled, horrific scream that Yang Gikang's manhood had been severed.
A spurt of blood gushed out momentarily.
Thud! Crunch.
This time, the sound of a sword piercing flesh and lodging in bone echoed through the air.
"Ugh!"
Before the scream could fully erupt, it was cut short again.
Thud!
The sound of tearing flesh was accompanied by a choked cry of pain.
The woman had never realized a single person could produce so many different kinds of screams.
"Guh... ugh..."
Each time the sword plunged in and withdrew, a fresh groan of agony inevitably followed.
"Please..."
Yang Gikang's desperate pleas were cut short by a cold voice from behind.
"Then you should have listened when this child begged for mercy."
The moment the words faded, the sickening sounds of a sword tearing through flesh echoed in rapid succession. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! It was the sound of a man being brutally butchered.
The only reason the woman could endure this gruesome horror was that the screams accompanying each thrust belonged to Yang Gikang.
The screams ceased, and the butchery stopped.
Still blindfolded by the person behind her, the woman couldn't see the scene before her. But she knew Yang Gikang was no longer among the living.
Then, a soft voice whispered in her ear.
"Child."
The voice was so gentle, unlike the harsh tone used with Yang Gikang, that she almost blurted out a "yes."
"Not all men are like that. Life sometimes throws you a mad dog that bites, but that doesn't mean you should treat every dog in the world as rabid, does it? So, forget about what happened today and live happily with your betrothed."
The words were filled with such tenderness and warmth. Though spoken in a young man's voice, they carried the wisdom of a grandfather comforting his granddaughter.
As soon as the voice faded, sleep washed over her. The naturalness of the touch that had subdued her acupoints went unnoticed.
As she was gently laid on the floor, she faintly heard one last, dreamlike whisper:
"You won't be harmed for being here. All those who deserve it will die tonight."
"Please reconsider, Association Leader. Attacking the Byeok Clan Sword School would incite the wrath of the entire Martial Arts World."
Jeong Yeo, Deputy Association Leader of the Yang Association, was the one making this earnest plea. He had only learned of the situation belatedly.
"Wrath? Did you just mention wrath?"
"Association Leader..."
"My son nearly died! And you dare speak of wrath? Whose wrath are you even talking about?"
"Young Master Yang..."
Jeong Yeo couldn't bring himself to say that Young Master Yang had brought this upon himself. Nor could he utter the proverb about trying to cover the sky with one's palm. Yang Gicheol was glaring at him with murderous intent, silencing him.
"Please reconsider."
"Such weakness. Tsk tsk."
"Association Leader!"
Jeong Yeo didn't believe he had lived his life by the principles of chivalry and justice. He saw himself as somewhere between a righteous hero and a villain, a man moderately tainted by worldly concerns.
No, to be honest, he leaned closer to the villainous side. He had turned a blind eye to the Association Leader's misdeeds on more than one occasion.
But even among misdeeds, this was beyond the pale. Only a madman would hire ronin to wipe out an entire sect simply because his son had been beaten up.
"Please reconsider carefully."
At that moment, another man in the room spoke up. It was the Blood Hound, the man Yang Gicheol had summoned.
Who exactly was the Blood Hound? He could be summed up in a single, chilling line:
He was the kind of man who would kill his own parents or children for money. Yang Gicheol even suspected he might have traded his deceased wife and children for it.
Yet, whenever Yang Gicheol needed a discreet matter handled, he called upon this man. His reliability in getting the job done was as certain as his greed.
"You'll have to pay more," the man said. "I've looked into the Sect Leader's reputation, and it's remarkably good."
"Since when did a killer care about the reputation of his victims?" Yang Gicheol retorted.
"It comes naturally with age," the man replied. "Perhaps it's what they call 'growing wiser.'"
"How much more are you asking for?"
"Twenty thousand taels."
"Growing wiser? You've just become greedier."
"Just answer yes or no. We're not here to exchange pleasantries, are we?"
In the end, Yang Gicheol agreed to pay double the original amount—twenty thousand taels.
Instead, Blood Hound promised to provide a scapegoat for the scheme. He vowed to use a suitable ronin to make it appear as though the ronin and his companions had annihilated the Byeok Clan Sword School.
They decided to use Byeok Ridan. The plan was to spread rumors that he had raped a woman, and then portray her lover, a ronin, as having wiped out the school in revenge. The ronin would then be staged to have committed suicide at the scene.
To prepare for this plan, they had already begun spreading rumors about Byeok Ridan's alleged rape.
Overnight, the Byeok Clan Sword School would become a worthless sect deserving of destruction, while Yang Gikang would be hailed as a heroic martial artist who had been wounded trying to stop the massacre.
This was the true power of money.
Everything had been proceeding smoothly until the last moment when Deputy Association Leader Jeong Yeo discovered the plot. They had kept it secret from him precisely because they knew he would try to stop them.
Blood Hound, who had been listening intently, suddenly spat out, "Why are you pretending to be so virtuous? You don't even look the part."
Jeong Yeo frowned at him. "This is none of your concern."
A tense silence hung between them.
Blood Hound grinned, defusing the tension. He wasn't intimidated; it was more like, "I don't even need to bother with someone like you."
"Stubborn," he muttered. Turning to Yang Gicheol, he said, "We need to resolve this quickly and get out. As you know, ronin have no loyalty. The longer we delay, the greater the risk of leaks. If you don't give me a clear answer now, I'm disbanding them immediately. And of course, you won't get your deposit back."
"That won't happen. We'll proceed as planned."
Having made his position clear, Yang Gicheol turned to Jeong Yeo and tried to persuade him. "Even though the Byeok Clan Sword School is declining, they still wield considerable influence in many areas. If we seize those territories, we can more than double the Main Association's strength."
Success in this venture would secure long-term profits in the hundreds of thousands of taels, making twenty thousand taels seem like mere pocket change.
"The Byeok Clan Sword School's influence in the Shandong Region stems from the local martial artists' deep trust in Master Byeok," Jeong Yeo explained.
Yang Gicheol's expression soured. "That sounds like you're implying my character is inferior to his."
"That's not what I meant," Jeong Yeo replied.
"Trust? There's no such thing in this Martial Arts World," Yang Gicheol scoffed. "Only two things exist here: the strong and the weak. The strong dominate, and the weak are dominated. The strong survive, and the weak die."
Jeong Yeo remained silent. He had long known his master was greedy, but he never imagined his avarice could be so vile.
"If you attack the Byeok Clan Sword School, I will no longer serve you, Association Leader," Jeong Yeo declared.
This was his last resort. He had been with the Yang Association for twenty years, weathering countless trials together. He could say with certainty that without his efforts, the Yang Association would never have reached its current stature.
Jeong Yeo had expected that if he pushed hard enough, Yang Gicheol would eventually feign defeat and reluctantly yield.
But Yang Gicheol's response was merciless.
"How dare you impose such conditions? Get out of my sight before I beat you to death in the training hall!"
Jeong Yeo's breath caught in his throat.
Beat me to death in the training hall? He had never heard such a crude and vicious threat before, and a storm of resentment washed over him.
What have I been doing with my life all this time?
Anger at his own foolishness overwhelmed any hatred he felt for Yang Gicheol.
Afraid he might burst into tears if he stayed any longer, he stood up abruptly.
"Stay in seclusion until I summon you again!"
Without a word, he left the room.
Behind him, Jeong Yeo heard the Blood Hound's sinister chuckle.
"No one must leave the Byeok Clan Sword School alive that day."
"Don't worry. We'll wipe out every Byeok—including their dogs—root and branch."
Jeong Yeo clenched his fists, his knuckles white, as he heard the conversation before the door slammed shut. He desperately wanted to burst back in and beat those two bastards to a pulp.
But he knew that would be suicide.
This was his limit—the full extent of his moral courage and ability as a human being.
He couldn't bear to stay in this place where he had lost all hope and dignity. Once this ordeal was over, Yang Gicheol would try to soothe him again with honeyed words.
He would leave before that happened. He didn't want to be discarded more wretchedly later.
"Damn it! I wanted to make the Yang Association the foremost association under heaven."
He trudged forward, weighed down by the pain of leaving the place he'd dedicated his entire life to, when an inexplicable sense of unease washed over him.
Lifting his head, he saw a young man perched on the rooftop. Blood dripped steadily from the sword dangling in his hand, a stark contrast to the clear blue sky behind him.
"Who are you?"
Who else could it be?
It was me.
Jeong Yeo instinctively reached for his sword.
"Are you going to act like an idiot until the very end?"
My words startled him, freezing his hand mid-motion.
"Do you really want your life to end defending a worthless wretch like that?"
A heavy silence descended between us, oppressive as a physical weight.