Chapter 81. Yong Jo-un... Debt Paid
“Brother, I'll head off and prepare for tomorrow's three-way spar.”
At the fork in the road, Pyeong In-gang spoke up. Gwan Ju-gyeon shot him a sharp glance.
“Huh? Pyeong Elder, you gonna skip out on all this fun?”
“Come on, just call me by name like always.”
“Heh. Still not used to your sudden rise, huh? I get it—I was the same way.”
Pyeong In-gang had been promoted to elder for his “merit” in rescuing(?) Yong Jo-un. His martial prowess was exceptional, but he was too young for the role—until Gu Ja-ang had pushed hard for it.
And now they were off to capture that very same Gu Ja-ang. It didn't sit right with him.
Gwan Ju-gyeon asked abruptly.
“You dragging your feet 'cause you owe that bastard Gu Ja-ang one?”
“Nah, it's not that. I've gotta rotate the kids on the sparring platform... Becoming an elder means a ton more crap to handle.”
Pyeong In-gang hid his true feelings, but Gwan Ju-gyeon wasn't buying it. His eyes flashed with cunning as he fixed on Pyeong In-gang and said,
“This world's a weird place, y'know. Everyone with a mouth yaps about righteousness and loyalty, but good luck finding any of that in reality.”
“……”
“One bit of advice from a senior: the higher you climb, the sharper you gotta stay. Plenty of snakes gunning for your spot. Look up too much and your feet slip out from under you; watch your feet and a blade drops from above...”
“I'll keep that in mind.”
“Good. Get going.”
He waved him off—go on, scram.
Pyeong In-gang gave a light fist salute and headed down the opposite path.
Gwan Ju-gyeon hummed a tune as he made for Gu Ja-ang's quarters.
At the door, he turned to the warriors trailing him. Two held crossbows, the other two gripped throwing knives.
“If he bolts, shoot him down on the spot.”
As Gwan Ju-gyeon approached the main gate, the guard on watch recognized him and bowed low.
“Yeah, good work.”
He passed through the front gate, crossed the small courtyard, and threw open the door to Gu Ja-ang's office. A lantern burned, but no one was inside.
Gwan Ju-gyeon scowled, then grabbed a passing patrol warrior.
“Hey, where's the chief steward?”
“The chief steward? Saw him heading to the outhouse a bit ago.”
“Yeah?”
Gwan Ju-gyeon started for the office but froze, then asked the patrol.
“Where's the outhouse around here?”
“Behind this building.”
Gwancheonbang's privies were mostly riverside—piss straight into the Sang River.
Gu Ja-ang's was no different.
“Damn it!”
He bolted to the outhouse—empty. Gwan Ju-gyeon wrinkled his nose at the cliffside ledge soaked in years of piss-stink.
“Hah... that old rat bastard ran?”
A chief steward escaping via the shitter? Unbelievable.
“Unleash the dogs! We gotta catch him!”
Gwan Ju-gyeon's eyes blazed with fury as he traced Gu Ja-ang's escape route in his head.
Down along the Sang River, hopping ashore at some likely spot—then a distant boom.
Brilliant fireworks lit the night sky.
What's that?
The site for tomorrow's three-way spar. He'd stationed warriors around it, watching day and night just in case—but what could go wrong there?
Gwan Ju-gyeon cocked his head. Sangyang Mad Dog wasn't just a nickname.
He had a nose for trouble. Instinct screamed the spar was going sideways.
The slaughter had started early.
I smell it. Blood...
“Follow me!”
Gwan Ju-gyeon charged toward the platform.
The Sangyang Mad Dog wouldn't miss the blood festival.
At that very moment, as Gwan Ju-gyeon raced madly for the platform.
Back in his office, Cheon Il-hae washed his face with the cold water a maid had brought. The muggy summer night had eased, but the accumulated mental fatigue lingered.
Pressure on the mind, not the body—circulation exercises could only do so much.
What was left to handle...?
Cheon Il-hae stood by the window, gazing out as he ran through his to-do list.
He'd sent Gwan Ju-gyeon to grab Gu Ja-ang; now he had to check that signal flare from the distant platform... His head was a mess.
He envied Hwa Cheon-gang for a moment.
That bastard Hwa Cheon-un handles all the headaches so he can just focus on the fight?
Falling out with Gu Ja-ang meant getting his hands dirty himself. Tonight, he had to sleep by midnight, no matter what.
Thinking of sleep brought drowsiness. Still, unfinished business...
Just close his eyes for a bit?
Cheon Il-hae sank into his chair, leaning back.
?
A sharp prick at the base of his neck, then a jolt—his body below went numb.
Couldn't move!
He nearly yelled for help but clamped his mouth shut in shock.
Cheon Il-hae, one half of the Sangyang Twin Tyrants, bare-fisted. His judgment was lightning-fast.
If his men knew he'd been hit...? None he could trust.
To go down this pathetically...
With the spar tomorrow, he'd doubled the guards. His residence-cum-office, Gwancheon Hall, was an iron fortress.
That very security bred complacency. But who could've rigged his desk chair—the one he'd just been sitting in?
Fierce light exploded from Cheon Il-hae's eyes.
Inside job!
Gu Ja-ang's face flashed first.
Had the bastard struck first? No, he wasn't that bold.
Who, then?
Not lethal poison—nerve toxin paralyzing from the cervical spine down.
They hadn't killed him outright... room for negotiation?
Cheon Il-hae gathered his thoughts, clinging to a sliver of hope, and called out in a grave voice.
Come out strong!
“Who is it?”
Whoosh!
No answer—a flying dagger hurtled at him.
Shit!
Cheon Il-hae's eyes widened in horror. Dodge? All he could manage was tilting his head slightly.
But impossibly, the dagger halted mid-air and clink—dropped.
Gasp! It fell right before his eyes, barely missing his precious parts between the legs.
Cheon Il-hae pissed himself a little in fright.
A thin thread trailed from the dagger's tip.
Right—they never meant to kill me outright!
Cheon Il-hae's hopes rose a notch.
Then someone flew in through the open window.
They landed soundlessly on the floor from the sill. The tight night suit gave it away instantly.
An assassin.
Smallish build... not a man—a woman.
The missing Haeyeonmun killer Hyeol Hwa sprang to mind.
Ah, that bitch came for revenge!
He'd torn Sangyang apart searching for her... where the hell had she been hiding?
Knowing his foe, compromise cards flashed through Cheon Il-hae's mind.
Nothing mattered more than his life—he could offer endless concessions.
Play dumb for now!
Cheon Il-hae channeled the Gwancheonbang Lord's dignity, barking low and stern.
“What is this?”
“Cheon Il-hae, you know damn well why I'm here.”
Hyeol Hwa's voice was ice-cold.
She spoke like she'd read his guts; Cheon Il-hae panicked inwardly. But his face was thick.
“Do I know you?”
Hyeol Hwa ignored him, reeling in the dagger. She went to the wall, yanked down a long curtain with a rip, and circled behind him.
“What the hell?”
Cheon Il-hae panicked.
“You think you could screw over Haeyeonmun and walk away? Ballsy.”
Hyeol Hwa split the long curtain in half with a tear.
Cheon Il-hae heard rustling behind him, curiosity piqued.
What the hell's she doing? Torture?
The thought made him desperate.
“What're you talking about? Screw Haeyeonmun? The hell?”
“Ordered a hit on the Yong family heir in Cheongsu Gate's name, then stabbed 'em in the back.”
“What? Why the fuck would I? First I've heard of it. Who's framing me?”
Cheon Il-hae bellowed in outrage.
Hyeol Hwa twisted the curtain fabric into a rope as she retorted.
“Sitting pretty in your backwater turf, thought Haeyeonmun was a joke? Want me to list what you did last night—what you ate, drank?”
She recited his movements and habits from her subordinates' reports.
Only then did Cheon Il-hae truly fluster. Hearing his own routines from a stranger's mouth felt profoundly weird.
And it hit him.
Right—Haeyeonmun was a nationwide assassin guild.
Cheon Il-hae backpedaled fast.
“Okay, truth is, I found out later. That's why I sent for Gu Ja-ang. Swear it. Just wait a sec—I'll drag him in. Hand him over.”
“……”
Hyeol Hwa tested the tension on her twisted rope.
“I was gonna compensate Haeyeonmun too. Thousand taels of silver... no, ten thousand.”
Desperate offers flew from Cheon Il-hae, but Hyeol Hwa stayed silent.
No point chatting with a dead man.
Unable to move, Cheon Il-hae had no clue what she was up to.
He tried surging inner energy from his dantian to push out the cervical toxin—useless. The poison was bad enough, but with a needle lodged in the spot, even a day's worth of power couldn't budge it.
Hyeol Hwa finished the rope and snap—looped it around his neck.
Finally grasping the situation, Cheon Il-hae yelled frantically.
“I'll give it all! All Gwancheonbang's interests!”
Hyeol Hwa leaned in, whispering in his ear.
“Y'know what I hate most? Guys who shove their responsibilities onto underlings.”
In that instant, Cheon Il-hae erupted his full-body inner energy, trying to smash her with the back of his head.
Hyeol Hwa, as if expecting it, hopped back. His massive chair toppled; she sprang up to the rafters.
She yanked the rope—the fabric noose hauled Cheon Il-hae up.
“Gahk!”
Throat crushed, he spat a weird death rattle.
Hyeol Hwa eyed his toes, adjusting height, and tied off the rope on the beam.
Cheon Il-hae thrashed briefly, then slump—went limp. Soon, his legs soaked dark as shit and piss leaked out.
Had any of the Central Plains' Hundred Masters died this pathetically by suicide?
Rage welled; tears streamed from Cheon Il-hae's eyes.
Moments later.
Hyeol Hwa hopped lightly down from the beam behind him.
She plucked the paralysis needle from his cervical acupoint and muttered,
“Yong Jo-un... debt paid.”
Cheon Il-hae was doomed from the start.
Why?
Because Haeyeonmun's elite assassin Hyeol Hwa had come with iron resolve to kill.
Life's price paid in blood...
Yang Gwan stood by the platform, eyes fixed on the river.
Whoever it was, they'd overheard his chat with Byeok Gyoo Un. Had to confirm the kill for peace of mind.
Sword qi had struck true, but that thud nagged him. Heart protector? Or similar armor?
Still, he was dead. Yang Gwan's sword qi would've shredded any ordinary guard and pierced the heart.
From the wharf, he scanned the spot where Won Seung had fallen, sharpening his gaze. The warehouse docks were dredged deep for big ships, with high embankments—river too murky to see bottom.
Then—energy stirred right below in the water.
The bastard was alive.
“Playing tricks, eh!”
Yang Gwan unleashed sword qi at the ripple.
Splat!
A leaping carp split in half.