49. Time for the Hunt (2)
“What’s the point of talking to someone who stabs first and asks questions later?”
“Hm.”
Akbigwang cleared his throat again.
He tapped his temple, rummaging through his memories.
After a long silence, Akbigwang finally spoke.
“But tell me this, sir. Why did you take the bait on my provocation? Most people would ask, ‘What was that about?’ first.”
“If someone put a blade to your throat, would you just sit there?”
“Of course not.”
“Same here.”
At Hanbin’s words, Akbigwang delved back into his memories.
A chill suddenly ran down his spine.
Hanbin had a point, to some extent.
But only an arch-enemy would fight with such demonic ferocity.
‘Pierced through the left shoulder and still charging in, ignoring it? Does anyone like that even exist in the martial world?’
If such a person did exist, they had to be...
“A lunatic!”
Akbigwang blurted out his inner thought without realizing it.
Hanbin’s face crumpled like parched earth in a drought.
“What did you just call me?”
“Ah, nothing. Anyway, was that really Jinyong Pahon Geom?”
“Yeah, it was. If you like it, go ahead and try it out. Even the toughest tree falls after ten whacks.”
“Th-thank you, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir.”
“No way. Who else deserves the title if not the man who dismantled Akryong Bicham in one go?”
Hanbin furrowed his brow.
That final strike, where the spear tip had flown at him as if teleporting through space.
He’d sensed it wasn’t ordinary, and sure enough, it was the Ak family’s secret technique, Akryong Bicham.
But had he really dismantled it?
It felt like Akbigwang was hyping him up to elevate his own family.
Hanbin said, “Still, cut it out.”
“Then I’ll call you boss.”
“Do whatever. But...”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Let’s just avoid seeing each other as much as possible from now on.”
Hanbin turned away to check his wounds.
He circulated a bit of qi, sensing his body’s condition.
‘Huh?’
Hanbin narrowed his eyes.
Without even lifting his clothes, he could feel his blood flowing smoothly.
The Yongrin Sword Art incantations were truly miraculous.
Momentarily marveling, Hanbin tapped his temple, plotting the next phase of his hunt.
The key point: his real prey wasn’t the wolves.
Three days later,
Despite Hanbin’s stern warning, Akbigwang frequented the Paeng family camp like it was his own home.
“Boss! I’m here!”
Glancing toward the voice outside, Hanbin saw Akbigwang winning over the Paeng warriors with food he’d brought from the Ak camp.
The Paeng warriors seemed to like him too, chatting freely without suspicion.
Hanbin decided to drop his negative view of Akbigwang.
“What do you want?”
“Thought I’d share the supplies that arrived at our camp.”
“No need to worry about us anymore, so you can stop coming.”
“Wh-what’s with the cold shoulder?”
“Fine, since you say it’s cold, I’ll ask one thing.”
“Shoot, boss.”
“Why the constant tributes?”
Hanbin’s word choice was spot-on.
The food he brought daily was more like tribute than gifts.
Akbigwang cleared his throat at the question.
“Ahem.”
Instead of answering, he grinned with a bandit-like smirk.
“Why the creepy grin?”
“Creepy? How about we become sworn brothers while we’re at it?”
“Pass.”
“See you tomorrow then.”
Akbigwang left with an awkward expression.
In truth, he was following his father’s orders.
The head of the Shandong Ak family had warned him: stay away from madmen.
Especially if they were strong in martial arts—don’t even glance their way.
But if you had to get involved?
Make them a friend—that was the family head’s advice.
That’s why Akbigwang kept visiting the Paeng camp.
Once Akbigwang was gone, Hanbin stepped out to stretch his stiff body.
He felt multiple pairs of eyes on him.
Some glanced and moved on, but most lingered on Hanbin for a moment.
“That’s the Hebei Dark Dragon?”
“Was there a junior this strong around here to earn a ‘dragon’ title?”
“They say he’s a prodigy who reaches the peak no matter the path. Deserves to be called a dragon.”
“Does that mean he’s reached the peak of martial arts?”
“Less about martial prowess, more about scheming mastery.”
“Did Young Master Paeng use schemes?”
“Beating Mu Ga Bi-ryong of the Stone Fire Sect, and just days ago taking down Akbigwang—couldn’t happen without schemes, right?”
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”
Hanbin unconsciously turned toward the voices.
Where their eyes met, two imperial soldiers who’d been chatting hurriedly scattered.
That’s when it happened.
A large group approached the camps from afar.
Looking closely, they wore leather outfits, carrying bows and quivers.
Hanbin instantly knew who they were.
Only hunters dressed like that.
Nearly forty of them at a glance.
They were the hunters assigned to the Justice Alliance.
The registered hunters were gradually assigned to various camps.
Three were sent to the Paeng camp.
Sim Miho brought the three hunters before Hanbin.
“My lord, these are the hunters who’ll help us take down the wolves.”
As Sim Miho finished the introduction, the hunters cupped their fists in greeting to Hanbin.
“Looking forward to working with you.”
“Greetings, young master.”
“It’s an honor to serve alongside the Hebei Paeng family.”
They bowed deeply, their flattery dripping like honey.
Hanbin smiled and returned the gesture.
“Likewise.”
Hanbin smiled, then subtly dipped his head to eye their cupped fists.
Releasing his gaze from their hands, he smirked faintly and left the tent.
Shrugging ambiguously at those behind him, he headed to the Ak camp.
Entering the Ak tent like it was his own, Hanbin scanned the room before speaking.
“The Ak camp’s lively too.”
“Boss! Welcome.”
Akbigwang greeted him with a broad grin.
Hanbin had come to exchange greetings with Akbigwang, the three elders, and even the hunters there—asking them to take good care of each other.
All the while, his eyes never left their hands.
‘The hunters assigned to Paeng and Ak are different...’
Hanbin’s lips curved up another notch.
It was the relaxed smile of a beast who’d spotted its prey.
What’s the easiest way to distinguish a hunter from a warrior?
The calluses on their hands.
And how do those calluses differ?
Anyone with decent experience in the jianghu can tell.
Calluses from drawing a bowstring versus gripping a weapon are distinctly different.
Hunters share calluses in two common spots.
One is the thumb.
To draw the string smoothly, they use a horn thumb ring—an auxiliary tool. The thumb wearing it clearly shows how much bow work they’ve done.
The index finger, where the string passes, is the same.
‘A hunter who doesn’t use a bow?’
If someone claimed that, even a passing dog would laugh.
No hunters in this region skipped traps and bows.
Hanbin had checked the Ak camp hunters by that standard.
Even among hunters, those at Paeng and Ak differed.
The Paeng-assigned “hunters” were warriors.
‘Warriors disguised as hunters?’
That meant one thing.
Their prey wasn’t wolves.
Imagining what was to come, Hanbin flashed a sly grin.
Seeing it, Sim Miho asked, “Something good happen?”
“It’s a secret, Deputy Sim.”
“That’s not fair.”
“What’s not?”
“I’m your right-hand woman.”
“Since when?”
“So mean.”
“Fine, say that’s true.”
“You admit it? Then how can you keep secrets from your right hand?”
“Know too much, and even right hands get hurt.”
“Gasp, seriously too mean.”
Sim Miho’s eyes narrowed playfully. Hanbin watched her banter freely now that they were closer, finding it amusing.
That’s when it happened.
The rumble of cart wheels echoed.
Creak...
Turning, Hanbin saw a wagon slowly approaching his tent.
It stopped in front, and they quietly began unloading crates.
Eying the stacking boxes, Sim Miho asked the man who’d stepped down from the cart.
“What’s all this?”
“I was just told to deliver here. No idea.”
As Sim Miho tilted her head, Hanbin spoke up.
“I ordered it all. You sent the order to Cheonli Escort Agency, remember, Deputy Sim?”
“What even is it?”
“Hunting gear for the wolves!”
“Hunting gear?”
“Open one.”
At Hanbin’s words, Sim Miho cautiously pried open a crate.
“What in the...”
She trailed off.
The crate was packed with foodstuffs.
She’d sent the order to Cheonhwa Pavilion, but hadn’t known the details.
As Sim Miho stared in bewilderment, Hanbin shrugged.
“A ghost that eats well looks good even in death, right? And give these to the hunters.”
He pointed to a few crates.
Sim Miho jumped.
“This much? Where’d the money come from?”
“Plenty left from selling that darksteel last time.”
Of course, a lie.
The payment came from the advance on Cheonsu Manor’s purchase.
Hanbin grinned, and Sim Miho’s eyes twitched in shock.
Seeing her expression, Hanbin pulled a letter from his bosom.
“Read this when you have time.”
“I’ll read it now.”
Sim Miho took it and started reading immediately.
Finished, she smiled brightly.
“Just trust me.”
“Read it now.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The letter outlined their next moves.
No wonder she was startled, but Sim Miho just smiled like it was nothing.
Done reading, she casually tossed it into the tent’s brazier.
Glancing around, she smiled at the gathered hunters.
“You’ve worked hard. Take these.”
She handed over oil-paper-wrapped packages, and the hunters’ eyes widened.
“What’s all this?”
“Eat the fresh meat now, store the jerky. And these are spices...”
As Sim Miho spoke casually, the hunters bowed deeply.
“All this for us?”
“It’s extras, no need to feel burdened. Looking forward to your help with the wolf hunt starting tomorrow.”
Finished, Sim Miho turned quietly.
Having delivered as instructed, she tilted her head.
Something felt off about the hunters.
‘What are they really?’
The doubt passed quickly. She shook her head.
Staying by Hanbin’s side had taught her much.
First: not everything is as it seems.
Second: Hanbin’s actions always have a reason.
Then Hanbin entered the tent, carrying a specially requested satchel.
Unpacking it, a note caught his eye.
Hanbin quickly unfolded it.
Black Heaven