Ten-Battle Assassin No. 50 - Chapter 79: Must Capture Hwa Yeo-wol
“I knew the request was fishy from the start. But I never imagined Gwangeonbang would use it to frame Cheongsu Gate.”
Hyeol Hwa had felt something off while investigating the background of the hit on Yong Jo-un.
Cheongsu Gate openly putting out a contract to kill Yong Jo-un, who had sent them a formal challenge? From the very place that would be the prime suspect if he died? If word got out, they'd face the scorn of the world and could even be expelled from the orthodox sects?
Hwa Cheon-un of Cheongsu Gate wasn't that stupid.
She should have double-checked the client...
It was no excuse for a Haeyeonmun elite assassin that time was short.
But that wasn't the only reason...
For some reason, she just didn't want to write him off as mere prey.
Call it respect for a warrior bold enough to challenge Hwa Cheon-gang head-on.
“I see...”
Hyeol Hwa bit back her irritation at Yong Jo-un's elderly drawl and clamped her mouth shut before she could snap.
This guy would probably stay like this until he dropped dead.
Instead, she asked what she was truly curious about.
“Why'd you let me live?”
“......”
Yong Jo-un couldn't answer.
At first, he'd been swayed by Won Seung's persuasion. Later, he simply hadn't felt like killing her.
In the end, he'd even felt grateful to Won Seung for holding him back.
He didn't know why such feelings had arisen.
His life had been nothing but martial cultivation and revenge, leaving him clumsy with other emotions—and clueless about what they meant.
Stumped for a reply, Yong Jo-un rose to his feet.
“I've said all I have to say.”
“Idiot...”
Hyeol Hwa muttered it under her breath.
Yong Jo-un shot her a look, doubting his own ears.
She glared right back.
“You're just gonna let an assassin who tried to kill you walk free?”
Yong Jo-un couldn't make sense of her words. Was she saying he should have killed her?
Unable to grasp why she was provoking him, he just stared blankly down at her.
She couldn't bear the weight of his boundless gaze.
Turning her head, she gazed out at the night garden.
Yesterday it had rained, but tonight it was just muggy...
Irritation gnawed at her.
Mission failed, tangled up with weirdos. One was the type who'd go to the underworld and deep-fry the King of Hell himself. The other... a living Buddha.
Oh, and there was that pervert too. Eerily handsome and ruthless... but always bursting into tears at the drop of a hat. Probably not right in the head either...
“......”
Yong Jo-un started to say something, then just turned and left.
There was nothing left to say. He'd spared her life, and now she was calling him an idiot... The jianghu was just as incomprehensible as ever.
As Yong Jo-un descended into the night garden, a quiet murmur from Hyeol Hwa clung to his back like a shadow.
“I owe you.”
The words struck his heart. He almost turned, but held back and headed to his quarters in the warehouse.
Moments later, Yong Jo-un packed a simple bundle and set off for the Yong family ruins.
It might be his last night; he wanted to spend it in the home of his childhood.
After he left, Hyeol Hwa emerged from the study. She had nothing to pack. She'd come in running for her life, with only what was on her—sword, clothes, a few personal items.
She glanced at herself in the living room mirror, wearing the flimsy gown the pervert had given her, then stepped out of Baekhwa Pavilion.
She hadn't even passed one alley when four men appeared.
Men in pitch-black night clothes—they bowed deeply.
“We greet the young lord!”
“......”
“The sect lord has been greatly worried.”
“......”
“We heard you were injured. A carriage awaits. Please, return with us at once.”
“No.”
Hyeol Hwa's eyes gleamed in the darkness.
“I'm going to Gwangeonbang.”
A debt had to be paid promptly.
* * *
Won Seung, walking toward Cheongsu Gate's plaza after parting with Hwa Yeo-wol, suddenly smacked his forehead with his palm.
“Damn, forgot to give her the Boheoldan.”
He'd made extra when preparing it for Yong Jo-un, planning to give some to Hwa Yeo-wol too.
But Hwa Ugeuk had shown up out of nowhere, forcing them apart too suddenly.
Won Seung glanced around, slipped into an alley, and unpacked the bundle he'd been carrying—just in case he needed to scale a wall. Black night clothes.
He changed into the lightweight black outfit, donned a mask, and headed to the outer quarters' guesthouse. Scaling the wall, he drew on his research from his stay at Cheongsu Gate: how to infiltrate without detection.
Back then, it was all about how to kill Hwa Cheon-gang.
Who'd have thought he'd use it to deliver medicine to Hwa Yeo-wol.
Tight security for tomorrow's tripartite duel, but Won Seung slipped into the inner courtyard without hesitation.
Entering a garden he'd visited before, a chill voice made him freeze.
“What do you want now?”
Huh? She spotted me?
Won Seung melted into the shadows, peered ahead, and understood.
Byeok Gyoo Un was pacing Hwa Yeo-wol's garden, waiting.
“Even in a sect, one must mind their conduct.”
That bastard? He must really wanna get castrated.
“How rude. What business does Young Master Byeok have lurking outside a lady's quarters at night?”
“I'm here as senior brother to caution my junior sister on her behavior.”
Hwa Yeo-wol kept calling him "young master," but Byeok Gyoo Un insisted on "junior sister."
Byeok Gyoo Un finished and turned to leave.
As Hwa Yeo-wol entered her quarters and shut the door, Won Seung's transmission reached her.
-It's me.
Hwa Yeo-wol startled. She knew Won Seung practiced martial arts, but not that he was a transmission-level expert.
She glanced around; Won Seung emerged smoothly.
Seeing him in black night clothes and mask, she tensed.
-Came to give you something. Forgot earlier 'cause Hwa Ugeuk popped up outta nowhere.
Won Seung pulled a vial of Boheoldan from his bosom.
-This is Boheoldan. Take it and circulate your energy—it'll boost your internal energy.
Hwa Yeo-wol gestured for him to enter, but he shook his head.
-Nah, gotta go now.
He'd planned to slap Byeok Gyoo Un silly while he was here.
A sprinkle of Chwimimonghonju to knock him out, then a dagger thrust he wouldn't feel. Maybe yank out his front teeth so he never ran his mouth again?
Won Seung waved farewell and vanished into the darkness.
Hwa Yeo-wol marveled again at how seamlessly he blended with the shadows—flawless lightness skill.
To think Seung was such an expert...
There were guards where Won Seung had gone, yet no alarm. Proof of his superior skill.
Hwa Yeo-wol stared after him a moment, then gripped the vial tightly.
Geom Yak Jong warriors were staying in the outer gardens.
Won Seung scaled the wall there and spotted a lit hall.
Creeping to the window, he pressed his ear close.
Muffled voices inside—an old man's.
Disappointed, he started to withdraw—then froze.
“Remember this. You must capture Hwa Yeo-wol.”
Huh? Capture who?
Byeok Gyoo Un's voice replied.
“Yes, Uncle. Junior Sister Hwa suits my tastes. She'll accept me soon enough.”
Uncle? Geom Yak Jong brought four people. Only Yang Gwan fits. So they were relatives.
“Sigh...”
Yang Gwan sighed.
“With your parents gone and your house fallen, you're the weakest among the sect lord's disciples. At this rate, revenge for your family is a distant dream. I'd love to back you, but... I've been away from the sect so long, I hold no real power now.”
“I know how you've always worried for me, Uncle. I'll never forget your grace in forging this tie with Cheongsu Gate.”
“Marry Hwa Yeo-wol... and in ten years, I'll make you lord of Cheongsu Gate. So...”
“Hmph!”
Won Seung snorted involuntarily at Yang Gwan's bold claim. Thieves in the house, indeed. Yang Gwan and Byeok Gyoo Un were here to swallow Cheongsu Gate under the pretext of its crisis.
“Who's there!”
Yang Gwan leaped, snatched a sword from the wall, and hurled it.
Shit!
Killing intent exploded; Won Seung dodged on instinct.
Kwang!
The sword shattered the window, embedding in a pillar.
A true Geom Yak Jong elder. He'd nearly been skewered.
Won Seung bolted, scaling the wall.
Crack!
Yang Gwan burst through the window, yanked the sword free, and glared after him.
Byeok Gyoo Un emerged, sword in hand, to pursue—but Yang Gwan stopped him.
“His lightness skill is no joke. I'll chase; you return to your quarters.”
Yang Gwan's form stretched unnaturally, vaulting the wall in an instant.
Won Seung glanced back—terrifying energy closing in from the dark.
That old man's the real deal!
No comparison to nobodies like Gu Ak-pyeong.
“Intruder!”
-Preeek!
Warnings and horn blasts echoed everywhere.
The already ironclad security now zeroed in on Won Seung.
He leaped roofs and walls like mad.
Blind arrows and bolts flew from somewhere; he dodged artfully and soon vaulted Cheongsu Gate's outer wall, escaping.
He aimed toward Gwangeonbang even in flight.
Yang Gwan scaled the wall and pursued.
Why's the old fart so nimble? I'm done for.
Won Seung checked his arsenal while running.
Since Cheon Seok-san's ambush, he carried as much as possible.
Four daggers strapped to calves and wrists, hair needles, San-gong Powder, Chwimimonghonju, master's short sword, and Seven Treasures Soul Separation Powder.
Might have to use the Seven Treasures Soul Separation Powder.
Last time against Cheon Seok-san, the coarse grains made inhalation poisoning tricky.
So he'd ground it into fine dust dispersible in air. Risky—could poison himself too.
Won Seung steeled himself.
Oh no!
In the frantic chase, he'd reached the Sang River.
Dive in? Then he spotted distant warehouse buildings.
Lights flickered near tomorrow's duel arena.
Cheongsu Gate and Gwangeonbang warriors guarding it.
Perfect!
Won Seung dashed toward the warehouses.
In that brief pause, Yang Gwan closed to within ten-odd zhang.
As he neared the arena, Yang Gwan caught up.
Thud!
A footfall behind—then robes fluttering wildly in midair.
A frigid sword qi shot toward Won Seung's back.
He rolled sideways, flinging San-gong Powder.
Whoosh!
White powder billowed.
“Hmph!”
Yang Gwan swung; sword wind scattered it instantly.
Won Seung hadn't expected it to work on such an expert anyway.
Just buying time—but Yang Gwan was already upon him.
“Think crude tricks will save you?”
Yang Gwan landed before him, sword raised elegantly behind his back.