Yaksha's Gaze
“Move it, faster! I said that way!”
A rough-looking man bellowed as he shoved a bound prisoner roughly by the arm and body.
“You bitch! When I say follow, just follow quietly without all the backtalk!”
Slap!
“Kyaaak!”
On the other side, a young woman whose hair was grabbed took a slap to the cheek and screamed.
Her cheek swelled up almost immediately from the brutal blow that snapped her head back harshly.
“Hey! I said don't damage the merchandise! You wanna die?”
“Sorry!”
The bandit who had slapped the woman muttered a half-hearted apology before turning his fierce glare elsewhere.
The bandit lair was utter pandemonium.
Numerous people were bound and suffering horrific treatment, while the bandits handled them with utter brutality, as if humanity meant nothing.
Regardless of age or gender, curses were standard fare, and they didn't hesitate to beat or stomp on them.
They treated the people like nothing more than objects.
A short distance from where the chaos unfolded stood a single man.
A burly figure watched the entire scene with a scowl of dissatisfaction, while beside him stood a slimmer man in a deferential posture.
The observer was the lair's boss, and the one next to him was the deputy boss.
“Is this all for this haul? Didn't I count wrong? We're way short!”
“No, sir. Some of the guys haven't returned yet, so we'll fill the numbers.”
The boss's face twisted even more at the deputy's report.
“Do we have to cut it this close every time? We could take it easy and still fill it! Do you have any idea how much each head is worth? Don't you think about how that money feeds and clothes you lot?”
“Sorry.”
The boss's voice grew louder with the deputy's apology.
“If you're sorry, then handle it properly beforehand! Do I have to micromanage everything? How the hell do you manage these idiots anyway?!”
“Sorry.”
He might have had grounds to feel wronged, but the deputy just kept repeating his apologies.
He knew all too well that excuses would only stoke the boss's rage further.
Only apology without excuse would end this quickly—and he knew that best.
“How badly did you manage them?!”
Thud!
The boss lashed out with a kick straight to the deputy's gut.
The deputy staggered from the powerful blow, fell, then scrambled back up and stood at attention.
“Time's up and they're still not back! Numbers are short! What the fuck is this? Total clusterfuck!”
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The more he ranted, the angrier he got, and the boss's beating began in earnest.
The captives shrank back even more in the brutal atmosphere, holding their breath.
The bandits, meanwhile, carried on yelling at the prisoners as if it were nothing.
The boss's roars echoed throughout the entire lair.
Even the bandits patrolling the entrance heard it crystal clear.
The guards halted their steps, stood side by side, and stared toward the boss furiously pummeling away.
“He's at it again. Doesn't he have some kinda mental illness?”
“Tell me about it. It's not like he shares the extra cash with us.”
“Maybe we should just bail to somewhere else.”
“Don't be stupid. If we get caught, we're totally fucked.”
They gossiped behind his back but kept their voices as low as possible, lest they be overheard.
That was when it happened.
One glanced at his partner and asked.
“Why you shaking like that? You seen the boss like this once or twice?”
“Huh? Why am I...?”
Unaware of his own trembling hands until then, the bandit stared down at them in confusion.
Then he looked over—and his partner was shaking too.
“You're shaking too? What, you scared or somethin'...”
“Me? Why would my hands... Huh?”
Both were trembling.
Neither had even noticed their own shaking.
Not knowing the cause only made it stranger.
But crucially, the trembling was intensifying bit by bit.
It started in their hands, spread up their arms, and soon engulfed their entire bodies.
“What the hell? What's going on?”
“R-right? My voice is sh-shaking too.”
A tremor from an unknown source.
Cold sweat now beaded on their brows.
Step.
“Hey, you hear that s-sound or what?”
“W-what sound? You h-hear somethin'?”
The two clamped their mouths shut amid their chattering bodies.
Step.
Then footsteps reached their ears.
“S-someone's c-coming?”
“P-probably one of ours. H-ha... why am I shaking so much?”
They turned from the lair's interior back to the outside.
But their trembling only worsened.
“Why's it so d-dark and creepy today?”
“Y-yeah.”
Thick trees and underbrush flanked both sides of the path leading to the lair.
The overcast sky made the path feel even dimmer.
Step. Step.
The footsteps drew steadily closer.
Gulp!
One swallowed unconsciously; the other wiped sweat on his sleeve.
Their eyes locked onto the murky center of the path.
Step. Step. Step.
The approaching footsteps stopped.
Still shrouded in shadow, the figure was impossible to make out.
The commotion from behind them continued, but it felt distant, like echoes from another world.
All their nerves focused on the enveloping darkness of the path.
No one in the lair noticed these two waging a desperate inner battle in a world apart.
Flash!
Twitch!
Two bluish glints flashed in the darkness.
Facing them, the pair flinched instinctively.
But that was all they managed.
They froze in place upon meeting those glints.
It was raw bodily instinct, but also their minds commanding it.
Stay still, hold your breath—their survival instincts in full force.
They finally realized the source of their inexplicable trembling: something unknown lurking in the dark.
That was when it moved.
The vague shape in the shadows stirred.
The motion felt agonizingly slow.
It began with the toes.
Whoever it was stepped forward into a single shaft of light piercing through branches and leaves.
From feet upward: legs, then torso.
As the mystery figure's full form slowly emerged, breathing grew harder for them.
And finally.
His body stepped fully into view, face discernible.
The instant they met his face—his eyes—their minds filled with one word: terror.
Were a yaksha's eyes like this?
Cold yet blazing hot, an indescribable gaze.
The trembling that had gripped their motionless bodies vanished.
They couldn't even shake anymore; paralysis was total.
The figure approached slowly.
Knowing it was an intruder, they could do nothing.
Like sleep paralysis: body locked, voice gone.
They desperately wished someone from behind would notice and come help.
Yet doubt crept in: even if they did, could they help?
He drew nearer, step by unhurried step.
Unlike his eyes, his gait was utterly relaxed, natural—like a leisurely stroll.
As the distance closed, death itself seemed to approach; their hearts nearly stopped.
Please... please...
Praying wordlessly, they repeated please in their minds.
With those slow steps, he reached their noses—then, mercifully, passed them by.
He paused briefly, glanced once, and moved on.
Huu...
They exhaled silent sighs of relief inwardly.
Grateful they couldn't move.
No—even if they could, they wouldn't look back.
Whatever happened next, witnessing it firsthand might shatter their hearts.
Woo-gang entered the bandit lair with utter naturalness.
His movements were so seamless that no one around noticed.
As if he'd always been there.
Everyone remained oblivious to his presence, lost in their own tasks.
Thus, Woo-gang reached the lair's heart and stood silently, observing the bandits' actions.
The reason he'd tracked the escaped bandit's trail here wasn't anything grand.
Worry that the villagers might face repercussions?
To Woo-gang, who felt he'd already settled his debts with them, such sentiment held no sway.
Simply: these scum deserved retribution, and he figured there'd be more beyond the village raiders.
Thud!
“Ah, what the—? Who the hell are you, standing here... Huh? You're not one of ours?”
Then, a bandit bumped into the motionless Woo-gang.
About to bark assuming he was one of them, he blinked at the unfamiliar face.
As the bandit struggled to process the impossible scene, Woo-gang spoke.
“What are these people? Kidnapped?”
“What?! Intruder! What the hell are the lookouts doing?!”
His shout drew every bandit's gaze to Woo-gang.
Even the boss, mid-beatdown on the deputy, snapped to attention.
Woo-gang stood tall, eyeing the bandits steadily.
“What are you waiting for? He's an intruder! Grab him!”
The boss bellowed upon grasping the situation late, and the first bandit who'd spotted Woo-gang swung his sword.
Swoosh!
The blade whistled sharply, but Woo-gang didn't flinch.
Instead, he casually raised a hand, crossing index and middle fingers lightly.
Clang!
Woo-gang flicked his index finger, batting the incoming sword aside.
The blade retraced its path exactly.
A mere finger flick, but the force exceeded what the bandit could handle.
He couldn't hold on and dropped it.
Whirrr! Crash!
The flung sword spun wildly behind him before embedding deep into a tree.
Letting go before it hit his head had saved his life.
The sword-swinging bandit collapsed onto his ass in shock.
“Looks like I can't just leave you be.”
Woo-gang lightly leveled his spear.
That alone dominated the air around him.
“All of you, rush him!”
The boss's face flushed beet red as he roared.
The bandits drew their weapons and charged Woo-gang en masse.