A Place Taken and a Place Left Behind (4)
Luoyang’s pleasure district.
Though the old capital had long since lost the splendor of its former glory, it was still Luoyang. The brilliantly lit night streets drew in countless moths weary from life, luring them toward the flames.
“Ugh... I’m drunk.”
“Heh heh. You’ve gotten soft, haven’t you? And how much have you even had to drink?”
“Hmph. I’m not even close to done. I could drink until dawn.”
“Tsk tsk. Bragging’s all fine and good, but your purse is pretty light... Urgh! What the hell!”
The swaying drunkard landed hard on the ground with a thud. He had bumped shoulders with someone passing by.
“You bastard, have you lost your mind—!”
But the man who had been about to shout reflexively shut his mouth like a clamshell.
“...”
The one who had collided with him glanced down at him. He didn’t have a particularly fierce face, and he wasn’t built like some hulking brute, either.
And yet the fallen man could do nothing but tremble violently, unable even to breathe.
It wasn’t because he was weak-nerved. Anyone who saw the dozen-odd knife scars slashing across that face would have reacted the same way.
“Uh... uh...”
His friend, instantly sobered, hurried over and bowed so deeply his back nearly folded in half.
“I’m sorry! He’s terribly drunk—”
“...”
“I-I’ll apologize in his place, sir!”
The man with the cold eyes was just about to move his shoulder when the person standing beside him laid a hand on it.
“Stop wasting time and let’s go.”
“...”
At that, the scar-faced man’s lips twitched once.
He stared at them for a moment with eyes so unreadable it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, then silently turned away.
The man who had restrained him then chuckled and said to the drunkards, “There seems to be a gambling den up ahead. You should stop by.”
“...”
“No, no—maybe I should say you’ve already used up all the luck you’ll ever have in your life. To survive after meeting Blood Saber Fiend... that’s no small feat.”
Muttering to himself, the man soon quickened his pace and followed after the one who had already gone on ahead.
“...”
The drunkards, who had sobered all at once, wiped the cold sweat streaming down their foreheads.
“What... was that face...”
“Did you see his eyes?”
“A-a martial artist, maybe?”
“Of course he was.”
For ordinary people, meeting a martial artist was not nearly as common as one might think.
“Why would a martial artist be here...? Hm?”
The dazed man muttered to himself, then flinched and hunched his shoulders. Hanging from the waist of the man who had just passed by him was a massive saber that made his hair stand on end just to look at it.
“...”
And it wasn’t only the saber.
On the back of the one striding ahead, a spear jutted up, and a giant, broad-shouldered brute with a frame that looked built for violence was also marching along with long, heavy steps.
“Wh-what’s going on?”
Everyone who had passed by was exuding an eerie aura.
Other people seemed to sense it too; they began holding their breath and edging back toward the side of the road.
“Did a war break out?”
“Where did all those martial artists come from?”
As one grim-faced figure after another began appearing everywhere, ordinary people stole nervous, curious glances at them.
But there was one man watching this scene with a completely different set of eyes.
‘...Blood Saber Fiend, Iron Ghost, Revolving Spear Fiend, Nine Nether Swordman? Damn it, what the hell is going on here?’
Gwak Byeong, the head of the Beggars’ Sect branch in Luoyang, had gone pale as death at the sight of so many famed masters of the evil factions heading together in one place.
If he had not seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed they had gathered in the same place. Evil faction people were, by nature, even more suspicious and hostile toward their own kind than they were toward the righteous factions.
‘I-I need to request reinforcements.’
But that also meant the opposite: something enormous had to be happening for all these people who normally growled at one another to gather together like this.
Just as Gwak Byeong was about to turn and flee in a panic, something caught his eye and froze him in place.
“Uh... u...”
The face of a man approaching from over there came clearly into view.
“B-B-Broken Soul... Broken Soul Blood Hand...”
Gwak Byeong’s face turned even paler.
If the men he had seen so far were merely notable figures among the evil factions of Jiangnan, then Broken Soul Blood Hand was a giant among giants—someone not even remotely comparable.
The middle-aged man, who looked so gaunt and fragile he seemed one bad breeze away from collapse, strode forward, then tilted his gaze and looked directly at Gwak Byeong.
“...”
The instant their eyes met, Gwak Byeong felt ice-cold all over, as though he had fallen into a frozen pit.
‘H-he noticed me...’
But that was all.
Even though he had clearly recognized him as a Beggars’ Sect member, Broken Soul Blood Hand showed no particular interest and simply passed by.
“...”
His legs turning to jelly, Gwak Byeong sank right down where he stood.
“B-branch leader.”
“Are you all right?”
The beggars behind him hurried over and supported him.
“...What on earth is happening here?”
Instead of answering, Gwak Byeong followed the backs of the evil faction members with his eyes.
As they walked down the broad avenue, the towers of Huahua Tower rose high before them.
As a rule, the uppermost floor of a pleasure house was reserved for only the wealthiest patrons, and it was no exaggeration to say that the prestige of such a house depended on how luxuriously it dressed up that highest floor.
Huahua Tower’s top floor was likewise decorated with exquisite ornaments befitting its reputation as Luoyang’s finest establishment.
But.
Normally, that upper floor should have been noisy with the clinking of gold and the laughter of courtesans, yet now it was sunk in a silence so deep it seemed no living thing remained.
“...”
Those seated in what were plainly expensive chairs stared wordlessly ahead.
It was an amusing sight.
There were no fewer than twenty people sitting on Huahua Tower’s top floor right now. Yet none of them spoke first, and none of them met another’s gaze.
They knew why.
Though they were all bound together under the name of the evil factions, in truth they could never be close. They had drawn blades on one another, stabbed knives into each other’s backs without hesitation just to seize more territory—what reason would they have to be friendly now?
It was a miracle, really, that there hadn’t already been bloodshed despite so many of them gathering in one place.
They had come here for a reason today, and because they needed to avoid unnecessary conflict, they were all trying their best not to provoke one another.
But... the silence went on for so long that, in the end, someone couldn’t bear it anymore.
“Damn it! How long are we supposed to wait?”
Biaksa Blade Jin Ryang shouted sharply. It had already been half a shichen since they entered this place, and still the ones who had summoned them had not shown even the tip of their noses.
It was only natural he would be furious.
But apparently not everyone thought so.
“Shut your mouth, brat.”
“...What was that?”
“It means keep your mouth shut before I shove the saber at your waist into it.”
Veins began to bulge in Biaksa Blade’s eyes.
“Think you’re capable of that, Red Fiend?”
As Biaksa Blade growled the words, the one called Red Fiend snorted.
“Alone? Taking on your Biaksa Blade would be a troublesome business.”
“At least you know it.”
“But there are, let’s see... more than ten people here who could probably put a blade through that mouth of yours. Know your place before you start talking.”
“You little bastard...”
Biaksa Blade was just about to fly into a rage when—
“You’re noisy.”
“...”
Biaksa Blade shut his mouth.
His gaze had landed on Broken Soul Blood Hand, who sat furthest in the back. Seeing that expressionless face, unreadable as ever, Biaksa Blade turned red and pale in turns, then sat back down without another word.
No matter how notorious he was in Zhejiang—so notorious that his name alone could stop a child’s crying—he still didn’t dare offend Broken Soul Blood Hand.
The strong were revered in the martial world.
And that law of the strong was followed even more strictly in the world of the evil factions.
“But...”
Then Broken Soul Blood Hand spoke, a hint of irritation in his voice.
“It is boring, that much is true. Gangseo-chilsal are poor hosts.”
“If we were guests, we’d have treated you as such.”
The moment those words fell, the door behind them swung open and seven men strode in. Every gaze in the room snapped to them at once.
‘Those are...’
‘...So they are.’
The world was wide.
Merely knowing of someone’s fame did not mean you knew their face.
And those who were seeing Gangseo-chilsal for the first time here today found themselves nodding before they even realized it.
Iron Ghost’s lips twisted.
‘The rumors weren’t exaggerated.’
Their aura was so fierce that his fingertips tingled.
Gangseo-chilsal. The seven sworn brothers called the Seven Gods of Jiangxi.
Each and every one of them was someone who could build a mountain of infamy on their own.
That was precisely why they were inevitably destined to clash. Two tigers could not live on one mountain; if seven tigers lived on one mountain, then of course it would become a living hell.
And yet Gangseo-chilsal had not fought one another to the death. Instead, they had become sworn brothers.
Only seven men, and yet the moment they were born as one, a force emerged that no power under heaven could dare treat lightly.
Especially...
‘Is that fellow their first blade? Gal Cheon-lip, Heartless Ghost Blade?’
The instant he saw the man walking at the front with a languid expression, every muscle in his body tightened. His instincts recognized the danger in the man before his mind could.
Step. Step.
Gal Cheon-lip swaggered forward, then spun around and flashed everyone a crooked grin.
“Good, you lot of trash. Or... should I call you the dogs that ran with your tails between your legs?”
“You...”
Their faces all hardened at the sudden torrent of abuse.
“Didn’t know you were the type to spit while lying down.”
As Iron Ghost said this coolly and sarcastically, Gal Cheon-lip let out a low chuckle.
“That’s fair enough. Introductions, then. I’m Gal Cheon-lip, the first dog of the Seven Dogs of Jiangxi.”
The men with folded arms gave faint nods.
They had already guessed he was Gal Cheon-lip, even without hearing it. The very air around him was different.
“Let’s get to the point.”
As if there was no need to bother with politeness, Gal Cheon-lip spoke again.
“The fact that a bunch of arrogant bastards like you dragged your heavy asses all the way here means your bellies must be stuck to your backs by now, right? You ran north to avoid the wolves, only to find that this place is full of tigers.”
Everyone here had moved north because they didn’t want to come under the banner of the Saperyeon.
Jang Il-so had offered only two choices: submit or die.
But there was no paradise to be found in the place they had fled to.
It wasn’t as savage as Jiangnan, perhaps, but Jiangbei was a far harder place to breathe in. Every time they tried to make a move, those damn Shaolin, the Tang Family, and the Beggars’ Sect came rushing in like lunatics to keep watch over them.
None of them had said it outright, but everyone had grown deeply sick of this reality.
That was why they had answered Gal Cheon-lip’s summons. If circumstances were different, these people would never have gathered face-to-face in one place like this.
Especially since they were all the sort who hated joining up with others and had come north precisely to avoid that.
“Quit spouting useless nonsense and say it. Why did you call us here?”
At Broken Soul Blood Hand’s words, Gal Cheon-lip’s eyes gleamed.
“If the famed Broken Soul Blood Hand is asking, I ought to answer. The reason is simple enough. We’re out of money.”
At that, a few muffled laughs slipped out here and there.
“So? You called us here for charity?”
“I’m a beggar too, but you lot ought to be beggars as well, shouldn’t you? Beggars can’t give charity to beggars. In that case...”
A sharp blue light spilled from Gal Cheon-lip’s eyes.
“It’s better to kill and take it.”
At that cold voice, even the air inside the room began to turn icy.