All Matters Must Be Set Right (6)
At Jeong Hwiji's command, one of the Henan Jeong Family warriors swung his sword toward Jeong Inji's nape.
Instead of closing his eyes upon seeing the blade's tip, Jeong Inji turned his head to gaze at the family head's seat.
What the hell is that thing?
Thinking back, Jeong Hwiji's scheme had been far too meticulous.
No, it wasn't the precision of the plan that astonished him—it was the ruthless ambition to eliminate his own bloodline and seize the family head's position.
As death loomed, Jeong Inji's mind flashed through his life like a lantern show.
Jeong Inji had no greed for the Henan Jeong Family.
He had hoped his younger brother would rise as the Henan Supreme Sword and come to dominate the five great families of Jiangnam.
For that grand vision to come true, Jeong Inji had to focus on holding the family together.
He believed that as long as he protected the Henan Jeong Family, his brother Jeong Hwiji would one day claim the Justice Alliance leader's throne.
That was why he had yielded all the spirit elixirs to his brother.
He had never burdened his brother with any tasks, all to aid his cultivation.
He had supported his brother Jeong Hwiji's growth into the Henan Supreme Sword without the slightest neglect.
And yet, his brother was trying to kill him?
In that instant, he saw the sword tip halt just an inch from his throat.
Jeong Inji quietly closed his eyes.
That was when it happened.
Ting!
The sound of a blade being deflected rang out.
The warrior, his hand numb from the impact, stepped back and glared at his opponent.
There stood Han Bin, dressed as a servant, grinning.
The warrior took another step back.
He had sensed an uncanny aura from Han Bin.
Jeong Hwiji realized things had gone awry and quickly ordered another warrior.
"Kill the Paeng Family's fourth young master!"
No sooner had he spoken than Jeong Hwiji's eyes widened in shock.
The warriors around the Paeng Family's fourth young master collapsed on the spot.
Thud!
They fell sideways, their bodies folding like snapped reeds.
Behind the fallen warriors stood a young girl beaming innocently.
Yi Mu-myeong, his pressure points released, had seized a sword from one of the downed men.
Amid the sudden chaos, Jeong Hwiji raised the family head's token high once more.
"Don't panic! Eliminate all enemies here and now!"
As the warriors began tightening their encirclement around Yi Mu-myeong and Seol-hwa,
a thunderous, unidentified roar filled the family head's hall.
"You bastards!"
The shout, laced with powerful inner energy like a lion's roar, froze the warriors in place. They turned toward the sound.
Their eyes bulged.
The voice had come from the side door of the family head's hall.
As the warriors stared,
Creak...
a wheeled wooden chair slowly rolled into view.
"Gasp!"
"Th-that's..."
The Henan Jeong Family warriors trailed off, speechless.
As the wooden wheels halted, they could finally make out the face of the man seated there.
It was none other than the Henan Jeong Family head, Jeong Muryong.
Though he couldn't rise from the chair, it was unmistakably him.
Jeong Muryong scanned the hall with an icy, furious glare that anyone could recognize—not pallid from illness, but seething with rage.
The family head bellowed again.
"All of you, lower your swords!"
The atmosphere grew as heavy as a blizzard.
The Henan Jeong Family warriors hesitated.
From the opposite side, Jeong Hwiji shouted,
"That's a fake! Obey the family head's token and my orders!"
Jeong Hwiji thrust the token high.
In that moment, the warriors glanced back and forth between the token and Family Head Jeong Muryong.
Someone spoke up.
"The family head was bedridden until morning—he couldn't have woken up. That's a fake!"
With that cry, the mood swung toward Jeong Hwiji.
The Henan Jeong Family warriors gripped their swords with renewed vigor.
Jeong Hwiji smirked triumphantly.
The one who had shouted was his right-hand man.
All the warriors here were the family head's direct enforcers.
Half were his own people; the other half were skilled ronin hired from the markets.
With the interlopers cleared out, he was the absolute authority here.
Jeong Hwiji glanced at his father, Family Head Jeong Muryong.
His father's sudden appearance was surprising, but his voice betrayed incomplete recovery.
Jeong Hwiji shouted at the warriors again.
"Deal with them swiftly! Take out that fake too!"
Now ordering the death of his own father.
Family Head Jeong Muryong, watching him, quietly closed his eyes.
Was he giving up on life?
Or had he reached some resolve?
Han Bin, observing, snapped his fingers with delight.
Snap!
At that exact moment, something strange occurred.
The warriors advancing on Han Bin, Jeong Inji, and Family Head Jeong Muryong froze.
Their movements resembled those under hypnosis.
At this bizarre turn, Jeong Hwiji yelled again.
"What are you doing? Finish them off now! By the family head's token, all of you..."
Jeong Hwiji couldn't finish.
Half the warriors were now holding swords to their comrades' throats.
Those moving to execute Jeong Inji and the family head had been subdued by their own allies.
Jeong Hwiji's eyes widened.
He couldn't believe the scene.
The warriors now restraining their fellows were the ronin he had personally selected.
He had sent away those loyal to Eldest Young Master Jeong Inji under various pretexts.
The shortages were filled by hiring skilled ronin from Henan's markets with coin.
Jeong Hwiji trusted these hired blades even more than his existing retainers.
Ronin followed money, not men—as long as he paid on time, betrayal was unthinkable.
The subduers called out, gazing somewhere.
"All handled, Deputy Commander!"
Jeong Hwiji whipped his gaze that way.
They were looking toward the warrior supporting Family Head Jeong Muryong.
"Gasp!"
Jeong Hwiji let out a startled cry.
The one aiding Jeong Muryong was none other than Haenam Sawoo—the ronin he'd paid extra to guard the family head's hall.
"Wh-what in the world?"
To the trembling Jeong Hwiji, Sim Miho stepped forward.
"We pledge to the higher bidder, you see. Your pocket change doesn't cut it."
Half of it was true enough.
Han Bin's offer outstripped Jeong Hwiji's by far.
Someone patted Sim Miho's shoulder.
"Well done, Deputy."
"All in a day's work, Commander."
From their exchange, they were clearly from some enforcer group.
An armed force that had infiltrated the ronin markets to sabotage him?
Did that mean Eldest Young Master Jeong Inji had been secretly building his own faction?
This was beyond Jeong Hwiji's wildest imaginings.
His sword hand trembled violently.
He scanned his surroundings.
He couldn't die alone.
Jeong Hwiji's eyes locked on one spot.
Naturally, the servant-clad Han Bin.
"You're the only one I'll kill with my own hands."
Blue sword energy bloomed from Jeong Hwiji's blade.
It writhed upward like smoke.
A feat visible only at the pinnacle of super peak realm.
Whoosh!
Jeong Hwiji charged straight at Han Bin.
In an instant, Han Bin's form vanished.
Swish swish swish.
Jeong Hwiji's sword cleaved the spot where Han Bin had stood.
Whirl!
The curtain behind Han Bin was sliced in half by the erupting sword energy.
The events unfolded so swiftly that everyone's eyes widened.
To the others, Han Bin's disappearance was imperceptible.
They assumed he lay fallen beneath the bisected curtain.
Even Yi Mu-myeong, disguised as Han Bin, screamed in horror.
"Agh! My lord!"
Yi Mu-myeong forgot his disguise entirely, calling out for Han Bin.
Seol-hwa beside him poked his side.
"Uncle, why so jumpy? First time seeing Phantom Shift?"
Yi Mu-myeong's eyes bulged as he scanned around.
Nothing was visible near Jeong Hwiji.
The only place Han Bin could be was under the ruined curtain on the floor.
Still shocked, Yi Mu-myeong asked Seol-hwa,
"Phantom Shift?"
"Eh, not the point."
"What are you trying to say, Seol-hwa?"
"Did you see Young Master's last expression?"
"What expression?"
"A sleazy grin."
Yi Mu-myeong stared blankly at Seol-hwa, shock forgotten.
His lord Han Bin was in dire peril.
He hadn't even thought to check Han Bin's face amid the surprise.
No, he hadn't even realized Han Bin had dodged the strike...
Doubts piling up, Yi Mu-myeong asked again.
"Seol-hwa, you really saw my lord's expression?"
"You don't see expressions with your eyes—you feel them with your heart."
Seol-hwa giggled.
Her laughter slowed Yi Mu-myeong's racing heart to normal.
As Yi Mu-myeong and the others stared at the curtain Jeong Hwiji had slashed,
the most stunned was Jeong Hwiji himself.
He, who claimed the title of Henan Supreme Sword, felt an odd sensation at his fingertips.
A mere graze.
The enigmatic servant had slipped away before his blade could connect.
But where was he now?
And who the hell was he?
No time for questions.
First, eliminate the intruder.
Calming himself and extending his senses, Jeong Hwiji detected the man's presence.
He spun, slashing behind him.
Henan Swift Strike!
The Henan Jeong Family's foundational sword art, emphasizing speed.
But Jeong Hwiji's version was too fast for ordinary eyes to follow.
This was the ultimate swift sword the family pursued.
And Jeong Hwiji embodied it.
Swish!
Jeong Hwiji narrowed his eyes.
Again, no impact sensation from his hand.
That was when it came.
A sharp sting in his side.
What?
Jeong Hwiji looked down.
A dagger was embedded there.
A voice echoed from afar. Turning, he saw the servant grinning beside his father, Family Head Jeong Muryong.
Han Bin, having stabbed the dagger into Jeong Hwiji's side and retreated, gazed into empty air with satisfaction.
Form confirmed via Dragon Eye.
Human-grade formula: Body (body) acquired.
Human-grade - Kill (kill), Body (body)
Confirming the formula, Han Bin murmured low.
"Knew my eyes wouldn't fail me. Wanggeoni was right after all."
He meant it sincerely.
Glowing points of the formula still lingered on Jeong Hwiji's body.
Perhaps...
He could complete the last remaining human-grade form today.
Hearing Han Bin's cryptic words, Jeong Muryong beside him widened his eyes.
"What do you mean by that, great hero?"
At Jeong Muryong's startled tone, Han Bin finally turned to him.
"Ah, Family Head. Sorry, just meaningless rambling."
"I see."
"So, how shall we deal with him?"
"As for my second son's fate, leave it to your judgment..."
Before Jeong Muryong finished, Han Bin asked,
"I'm asking about the Henan Jeong Family's house rules."
Han Bin regarded Family Head Jeong Muryong with a serious expression.
He had already decided to handle Jeong Hwiji himself.
But there were limits, principles.
He'd cook him up his way, but not beyond the house rules.
"......"
Receiving Han Bin's question, Family Head Jeong Muryong silently turned his head.
There stood Jeong Hwiji, who had plotted to trap his brother and murder him to usurp the family head's seat.
Glared at fiercely by his second son, Jeong Muryong rose from his chair.
No one had anticipated the sickly figure standing tall.