154. The Big Picture (4)
At Han Bin's words, the masked man narrowed his eyes.
For a brief moment, something twitched beneath his mask.
"All talk, no action."
A voice laced with amusement escaped him, and Han Bin shrugged nonchalantly.
"That's my favorite compliment. Thanks, friend."
Leaning forward like an eagle pecking at prey, Han Bin pressed his opponent with Wol-a.
The foe met the pressure head-on without flinching, countering with raw power.
"I'm not your friend."
"That's what they all say—until they get a taste of my blade. Then we're besties."
Han Bin channeled his inner power into Wol-a.
A faint blue aura flickered along the blade.
At the same instant, a red aura bloomed from the masked man's sword.
Han Bin smirked at the sight. Looks like the feint worked.
His opponent's realm was invisible—too overwhelming to suppress outright.
That meant they were equals, or perhaps the foe was even a touch below him.
Best to gauge the enemy's depths and respond accordingly.
Matching the opponent's crimson sword aura, Han Bin intensified his own blue glow.
The vibrations between them grew louder by the second.
Rrrumble, rrrumble.
Both swords wailed in unison, emitting sharp ringing cries.
Han Bin shoved lightly, testing the waters.
Thud!
Was it the clash of opposing forces?
The impact rippled back several times amplified.
Crack-bam!
Han Bin skidded backward, and the black-masked man retreated even farther.
Was it the influence of Quick Sword, Chaotic Demon?
A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of the masked man's mouth as he fell back.
Han Bin felt his own inner power churn violently.
He swallowed the blood pooling in his mouth.
No sense showing weakness to the enemy.
Smirking, Han Bin swiftly layered on another stance from the Yongrin Sword Art.
'One Touch, Instant Strike.'
With Lightning Flash's essence as the base and Quick Sword, Chaotic Demon layered atop, Han Bin's body shot forward.
Whoosh!
Blending as one with Wol-a, he hurtled toward the black-masked man.
The masked man casually wiped the blood from his lips and raised his sword to meet it.
In that instant, his blade's red aura rippled ominously.
Han Bin's eyes narrowed.
He's about to unleash his hidden strength.
Just as the crimson and blue auras were set to collide, Han Bin switched stances.
'Feint East, Strike West.'
A technique to render the foe helpless in a single blow.
The catch? It only worked reliably against equals or inferiors.
Against a superior realm, success hinged on probability.
In other words, perfect deception against a matched opponent.
Han's sword curved around the enemy's sword barrier like a shield.
Slithering through like a serpent in tall grass.
The masked man caught the shift and leaped back.
Splat.
But Han Bin's blade was faster.
Whoosh!
Wol-a slashed across the masked man's face.
He twisted backward, barely dodging.
But his mask snagged on the tip.
Rip!
A smear of blood stained the blade's edge where the mask tore.
The masked man had retreated over five paces in the blink of an eye.
Had the attack landed because his realm was higher?
No—the way he'd dodged suggested Han Bin held the absolute edge.
Just luck, then.
Han Bin needed to shake him more.
He flicked his sword clean.
The snagged mask fluttered to the ground.
Plop.
Approaching steadily, Han Bin quipped,
"Golden Cicada Sheds Its Shell? Were you a cicada in a past life?"
"Hoo..."
The masked man bowed his head, taking a deep breath.
Then he straightened.
Torchlight danced across his contorted face and sharp contours.
Han Bin tilted his head.
I know that face from somewhere.
"Second Young Master?"
The man Han Bin referred to was none other than Hwang Bo-yeong-u.
But Hwang Bo-yeong-u was right there, slung across Patriarch Hwang Bo-man-cheong's back.
So who was this imposter?
Seeing Han Bin's confusion, the man chuckled.
"Busted."
Han Bin squinted, studying his features.
He's trying to throw me off.
Staring down the mysterious foe, Han Bin burst out laughing.
"Pfft!"
"What's so funny?"
"Just feeling sorry for you."
"..."
As the mystery man cocked his head, Han Bin leveled Wol-a at him.
"That looks like one pricey human-skin mask I just wrecked. Since we're already at it, lemme cover the bill."
The foe flinched and backed away.
True to Han Bin's words, chunks of flayed skin mask dangled raggedly from his face.
The mystery man retreated unsteadily.
Han Bin scanned the surroundings as he closed in.
But he didn't rush.
Instead, he advanced in a zigzag pattern.
The foe's face twisted in frustration.
"No openings at all!"
"Less 'no openings' and more 'you're sloppy.' Who falls for kid stuff like this?"
Han Bin pointed Wol-a downward.
Scattered across the floor were iron caltrops.
Caltrops were spiked projectiles, four barbs fused together. Scatter them, and at least one barb always pointed skyward.
The enemy had prepared poisoned caltrops in anticipation of being pushed back—meticulous indeed.
Stepping carefully around them, Han Bin approached.
Step, step.
Now just three paces away.
That was when it happened.
The mystery man poured even more red aura into his sword.
Sizzle.
It sounded like paper burning.
Han Bin gripped Wol-a two-handed.
He'd pegged the enemy's realm.
Definitely Hwagyeong.
Likely on par with that remnant blood demon he'd faced before.
A master like that using caltrops? A tough nut, no doubt.
Red sword aura blazing, the mystery man charged Han Bin with a predatory grin—as if he'd fully assessed his prey.
That was when Han Bin smacked his lips.
He'd spotted the rippling point on the approaching foe.
Han Bin ignited his own blue sword aura and lunged.
'One Touch, Instant Strike.'
As blades met, he switched again.
'Feint East, Strike West.'
His sword danced mystically once more.
But this time, it was blocked.
Clang!
Feint East, Strike West relied on probability.
But there was a workaround.
Even a low probability meant two successes in ten attempts.
Han Bin chained another stance.
'Self-Inflicted Trap.'
Wielding Quick Sword, Chaotic Demon, Self-Inflicted Trap, and Feint East, Strike West against the foe.
The enemy gaped as Han Bin's assault hammered him.
His momentum screamed inferior, yet his swordplay matched evenly.
Han Bin's blade moved at unimaginable speeds.
Worse, he wielded it heedless of his own body.
Most would prioritize defense when vital points were threatened.
Especially greenhorns—they guarded themselves fiercely.
Not Han Bin.
He ignored incoming strikes to his vitals, targeting others instead.
And the second issue: he'd clearly slashed Han Bin's flesh, yet his own arm went numb.
As if he'd been struck at a vital point.
The mystery man bellowed,
"Grafting Flowers onto a Tree!"
Han Bin chuckled at the cry.
The foe wavered slightly.
Seizing it, Han Bin unleashed Feint East, Strike West again.
Only fifteen years of power left now.
One more, and victory wasn't guaranteed.
'Take the bait!' Han Bin screamed inwardly.
Did his resolve connect?
A refreshing sensation tingled at his fingertips.
Squish!
Dragon Eye confirms the formula.
You have acquired Bok (bak) from the Applications section of Yongrin Sword Art.
Ban (ban), Jin (jin), Bok (bok)
Han Bin glanced sharply at the mystery man.
One point remained.
On his left arm.
He lunged fiercely.
But the foe darted back.
Something felt off during their clash.
Han Bin caught his breath too.
Not much inner power left for Yongrin Sword Art stances now.
Two more at best before exhaustion.
That was when the retreating mystery man hit the wall.
He glanced up and shouted,
"Come any closer, and I'll collapse this tunnel!"
He seized a cord dangling from the ceiling.
Han Bin squinted at it.
If he was telling the truth, that cord triggered the collapse.
Maybe a bluff.
Risk it?
He eyed the man's left arm and smacked his lips.
After a moment's thought, Han Bin said,
"Go ahead and try. Wanna guess my specialty?"
"Not interested."
"Too bad—it's mutual destruction."
"Bluffing!"
"Wanna test it?"
Han Bin stepped forward.
The man gripped the cord tighter.
"..."
Han Bin halted, staring him down.
The foe clearly saw him as superior after the feint.
Though demonic foes were at a disadvantage.
Thanks to Quick Sword, Chaotic Demon.
But with scant power left, in this tight space? Victory uncertain.
The man spoke again.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Me? Fourth Young Master of Hebei Paeng Family."
"Like I'm the Second Young Master of Huangbo Family? But our headquarters never sent a master like you!"
"Headquarters?"
Han Bin's eyes narrowed.
Not "main sect"—headquarters. Meant a group outside the orthodox, unorthodox, or demonic paths.
He had to assume another faction existed, beyond Jeong, Sa, Ma.
Even his past life hadn't uncovered this.
Han Bin focused harder.
The man smirked.
"Sorry, slipped up."
"We're both dead meat anyway—might as well spill."
"You first."
"Take a guess."
"Demonic Cult?"
"Half right."
Han Bin slipped in a lie.
Push a bit more, and the truth might surface.
At least he wasn't Demonic Cult.
"Half right? Then why fight here?"
Han Bin tilted his head.
Not Demonic Cult, but not hostile to them?
As he pondered the foe's identity—
Urgent footsteps echoed from behind.
Han Bin didn't turn.
Had to be Hwang Bo-man-cheong.
He signaled backward with hand signs—universal for Justice Alliance members.
Stay back.
Hwang Bo-man-cheong froze, then observed from afar.
"That guy!"
He yelped in shock.
A dead ringer for his son faced off against Han Bin—even a Hwagyeong master would startle.
He instinctively checked his back, where his son lay bound.
Han Bin's voice rang out.
"He's wearing a human-skin mask modeled after Second Young Master. Don't let it rattle you."
Only then did Hwang Bo-man-cheong notice the tattered mask.
As he debated intervening—
The man's left hand twitched toward the trap mechanism.
Han Bin launched himself.
'Lightning Flash.'
'One Touch, Instant Strike.'
'Beggar's Eighteen Steps.'
Maximum speed, straight at the man.
But he parried casually with his right-hand sword.
Screeech!
The grating clash echoed nastily down the tunnel.
The foe grinned slyly.
"Your hand's revealed. We'll sort your identity later."
Han Bin chuckled.
The guy still bought the Hebei Paeng fourth young master ruse.
"Do whatever. Now watch my true depths. Enjoy the show!"
In a flash, Han Bin added a Yongrin Sword Art stance.
'Bluffing Display.'