Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Red Light District (2)
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The woman who introduced herself as the Second Division Leader of the Crimson Lotus Unit acted with the restraint of a seasoned warrior, making her courtesan attire seem utterly out of place.
She dropped to one knee before me in a formal bow while simultaneously extending her senses to scan the surroundings.
Despite her outward appearance, it was clear she was no ordinary fighter—she was highly skilled.
"Have you found any leads?"
"Yes. We've spotted some suspicious activity. Please take a look at this."
With that, she handed me a document stained with blood.
"What's this?"
"It came from a low-ranking government official we... entertained as a guest. Please check it out."
"Entertained," in her case, no doubt meant luring him in like a courtesan before piercing his throat.
As a division leader in the Crimson Lotus Unit, her primary duties were likely closer to assassination than intelligence gathering.
I took the document she offered and examined its contents.
It was a kind of ledger. The early entries for rice, grains, and clothing were unremarkable, but the final page listed an item that had no business being there.
"Gunpowder?"
"Exactly. Something a low-level bureaucrat has no right to handle."
If this was true, the situation was far graver than I'd imagined.
By the unwritten rule known as "officials and martial artists do not invade each other's domains," the government stayed out of murim affairs, and murim stayed out of the government's.
But if this gunpowder had indeed fallen into the Demonic Cult's hands, it was tantamount to the imperial court breaking that decree.
Even if it was to check the Murim Alliance's growing power after the Demonic Cult's defeat in the war, this crossed a clear line.
"Fortunately, the quantity isn't that large."
"We can't rule out the possibility of more ledgers like this. And right now, in Xiyang, the only place gunpowder could be smuggled to besides the Demonic Cult is nowhere to be found—so it's safe to say the treaty has been violated."
Gunpowder was among the most strictly controlled items even by the government. Capable of claiming countless lives in small amounts, it was banned from circulation to protect imperial authority.
In my past life, the Demonic Cult bastards had used gunpowder too, but I'd never dreamed it came from the government.
These damn scum treat human lives like jokes.
"What should we do?"
"A low-ranking official carrying a ledger into the red light district means the Demonic Cult dogs who made the deal are still around here somewhere. So we just kill every last one of those sons of bitches."
She flashed a faint smile at my words. Though she didn't show it outright, was she, like her division head, driven by a thirst for revenge?
"Kyaaaaaaaah!!"
At that moment, a woman's horrific scream echoed from afar, reaching us like a reverberation.
Paat!
I unleashed my lightness skill without hesitation, racing toward the source of the scream.
Leaping from rooftop to rooftop of the towering pleasure houses, I spotted a chaotic crowd in the distance—and weaving leisurely through them, a single figure clad in black.
But the distance was too great to make out any details. Could I even catch up?
No—I had to.
I couldn't allow another victim.
"Sss."
I gathered my internal energy throughout my body and focused it into my toes. I could feel the qi taking shape around the tile beneath my foot.
If sword aura sharpens a blade, then in footwork, it propels the entire body with manifested energy.
I hadn't reached the realm of Void Step, where one shapes qi in midair, but simply placing my foot on solidified aura allowed for speeds on another level entirely.
Like the difference between jumping under your own power and being launched skyward from someone's palm.
Kwaang!
With a heavy thud, I shot forward like a pebble flung from a rubber band, at speeds invisible to the eye.
Kuung!
The added weight made every landing shatter tiles into fragments that scattered everywhere.
Yet I never slowed down.
The culprit was a lightness skill master no one could catch, but bit by bit, the gap between us was closing—I could see it.
One step, another.
Each stride carried me over several buildings, and soon the distance shrank to within ten zhang.
His face was hidden by a mask and black garb, but I could confirm one thing: he was missing his left ear. I'd come to the right place.
Realizing I was on his tail, he suddenly accelerated.
But I wasn't letting him slip away here.
Death Mirror Ice Art: Deathly Cold Palm.
The frigid energy gathered in my palm shot forward through the air via the palm technique.
Like a fierce blizzard, the chill didn't weaken with distance—instead, it sharpened and accelerated, finally reaching him.
Paang!
But contrary to my expectations, he didn't lose speed. In an instant, a blade extended from him, deflecting the palm wind of ice energy and altering its path.
He casually dispelled the visibly freezing chill and vanished from sight in a flash, ramping up his pace.
Having pushed my lightness skill so hard to get this far, catching up now wouldn't be easy.
"Hah, damn it. I had him."
I'd figured even if he blocked the palm wind, the freezing would slow him down.
But this guy handled the ice energy effortlessly, like he was used to it.
That meant he was either a highly accomplished expert... or someone who wielded ice arts himself.
Probability-wise, the latter was more likely.
"A Demonic Cult figure using ice arts to target women with skin like white jade."
I had a suspect in mind.
For now, let's check the scene.
"No, no! Sister Hongseol, how can you go like this?!"
A wail echoed from inside one of the pleasure houses in the still-crowded red light district.
Inside the room lay a corpse so grotesquely twisted it was unrecognizable, its chill turning the air icy cold.
The source of the sobbing was likely a courtesan close to the deceased.
The victim had probably been a courtesan who once flaunted her beauty, desperately hoping to escape this life someday.
Now, though, not a trace of that beauty remained—she'd left the world in a bizarre, mutilated form.
The onlookers crowding around reacted to the courtesan's loud lament each in their own way.
Some mourned the dead woman.
Others thought what did it matter if some whore died.
One thing was certain: a young woman who might have become someone's mother had lived her life in vain and departed.
"Excuse me, may I examine the body?"
Yi Sowol pushed through the crowd and addressed the courtesan weeping over the corpse.
"Who the hell are you to poke at her body?!"
She glared at him with venomous eyes—eyes filled with resentment toward the onlookers who offered no condolences despite her death.
She knew it wasn't right to vent that at the man before her, but sometimes words spill out beyond even the speaker's control.
"I am Yi Sowol, the Sword Dragon dispatched by the Murim Alliance to investigate this incident."
The mention of the Murim Alliance made her and the crowd flinch, suddenly minding their words.
And the title "Sword Dragon" proved he was no ordinary man.
"...I'm sorry for my outburst. Please catch the killer."
Even she, lost in tears and blame, corrected her emotions and bowed to him.
Her eyes pleaded for vengeance against the one who harmed her friend.
"I promise I will."
He nodded and immediately inspected the body.
Amid the grotesque transformation of her entire body, only her left wrist was broken and twisted backward—suggesting the killer had grabbed it with his right hand.
Her clothes were disheveled but not removed, proving the crime wasn't sexual in nature.
So, not a yin-yang harvesting technique.
Yi Sowol placed a hand on her forehead and gently lifted her closed eyelids.
Only the whites of her eyes showed.
She'd endured agony so intense it knocked her out right before death, rolling her eyes back.
Observing her condition, Yi Sowol clenched his trembling hand in rage-inducing fury.
He closed his eyes, clasped his hands, and paid silent respects before slowly rising.
"Thank you for your cooperation. I will find the culprit."
A chill glinted in Yi Sowol's eyes. Watching him mourn the dead woman, the courtesan resumed her tears.
"Young hero! So you were here."
As he finished his investigation and stepped outside, Unhak and the others came rushing up breathlessly.
They must have hurried over to assess the disturbance in the streets.
"What happened?"
"There's been a victim. Traces of demonic arts."
The words "demonic arts" made them pale and break into cold sweats.
"Demonic Cultists were really here?"
"Yes. But they won't show up again. They've caused enough commotion, and I chased them this time. They know they can't escape unscathed if they're spotted again."
"Did you identify them?"
"He was masked, so no face, but I got a rough description. Finding him should be easy now. The problem is we don't know where he is... though I have a hunch."
Their faces lit up at that. After a month, a solid lead felt like good news to them.
"Your expression... it's dark."
Only Yuseongil, oddly perceptive despite his disinterest, asked why I looked grim.
Sharp instincts for someone so aloof.
"A woman died."
My curt words sank the mood instantly.
"It's strange to care that some courtesan died, but she didn't have to."
Only then did they feel the weight of their responsibility. If they'd tried harder, caught the Demonic Cult's trail sooner...
Maybe she wouldn't have died.
No one said it, but they all thought it.
"...Making her death not in vain is up to us."
Namgung Cheon gritted his teeth and continued.
"We'll catch those bastards for sure."
Unlike before, when exhaustion had set in, his eyes now burned with resolve.
He had real potential, after all.
"We will."
Yes—we had to.
Not a single one could escape. Only by rounding up all that trash and repaying the pain they inflicted on their victims a hundredfold would I feel satisfied.