Chapter 96. As Expected of Cheongsu Gate's Fox...
The encirclement around Cheongsu Gate shook the moment Won Seung and Hwa Yeo-wol arrived, and curiously enough, it parted right in front of Won Seung.
Won Seung swiftly shoved Hwa Yeo-wol aside and hurled the three darts he gripped in his hand.
The three darts flew off in different directions.
Won Seung had diligently honed his dark arts back at the assassin training camp in the mountains, especially his dart techniques. Whenever he pictured the faces of Jang Gyo-du or the instructors in his mind and threw, it was always a perfect hit.
His master, who taught advanced dark arts, had been so impressed by Won Seung's dart skills that he'd said,
"If you reach the realm of controlling darts with your internal energy, you could found your own Dart Sect!"
Won Seung had already been practicing ways to manipulate darts with his internal energy back then. He just hadn't shown it outwardly.
The three darts he'd thrown now hurtled in different directions and at varying speeds.
The one aimed at Daesan's throat looked ferociously fast, but in truth, it was the slowest.
That's why Daesan raised his greatsword to deflect it—but the dart hadn't even arrived yet.
Meanwhile, the one targeting his right ankle skimmed along the ground. Loaded with heavy internal energy, it seemed ponderously slow.
But that seemingly sluggish dart was actually the fastest.
Daesan waited for the throat dart to close in, then spotted the one nearing his right ankle and instinctively kicked his foot aside to dodge.
Then it hit him—there were three darts.
One had curved sideways right after being thrown. He'd dismissed it as a miss and ignored it, but if it wasn't...?
Daesan gathered his energy, positioned his greatsword across his chest, and unleashed his sword aura.
Clang!
The dart struck the greatsword dead-on.
Had he not been on guard for that instant, it would've pierced his heart.
Shivering, Daesan withdrew his sword and glared at Won Seung. The bastard was already flat on the ground.
What the—? Won Seung, still prone, raised the crossbow in his hand and waved it. As if greeting an old friend...
His eyes, visible through the mask, were smiling.
In that moment,
Thwack!
The steel bolt slammed into his left ankle.
'Argh!'
Even Daesan, who'd deflected countless bolts, hadn't sensed this one creeping along the ground in the darkness.
As he staggered with a pained groan, several more bolts flew in and embedded in his back.
"You cowardly bastards! Fight with swords!"
Daesan bellowed and charged forward. A few bolts weren't enough to fell a master like him.
His limping from the ankle wound was unavoidable, though.
Then a thunderous roar struck his ears.
"Where do you think you're going!"
Hwa Cheon-un, having descended from the walls, rushed in and leaped into the air with a thud, unleashing sword energy.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
The sharp sword energy arced like a crescent moon toward Jungsan, who guarded the rear.
As Jungsan swung his sword to bat away the energy, Hwa U-cheon's bolt struck true in his thigh.
Before he could even groan, Hwa Cheon-un's sword energy surged in. Jungsan blocked frantically but took a stab to the gut.
"Urk!"
Hwa Cheon-un's internal energy rode the blade, shattering Jungsan's organs.
"Jungsan!"
Seeing his brother's death, Daesan's eyes rolled back in rage.
Daesan couldn't accept this. He and his brothers from Dosanrim had weathered countless battles as sword killers. But he realized now—most had been master against master, weapons clashing openly.
Sangyang was a decent-sized city, but in the martial world, it had no notable sects—just a middling place. Hwa Cheon-baek might rank among the Central Plains' top hundred masters, but Cheongsu Gate itself had been beneath notice. Yet Yang Gwan and Mis an had died, followed by Jungsan.
And to bolts, no less... He'd never feared crossbows like this.
This is Dragon Pool Tiger Den...
Meanwhile, Hwa Cheon-un charged at Eumdo, who was already gravely wounded and faltering.
Daesan whirled around. He needed to avenge his brother against Hwa Cheon-un first—but something yanked his foot.
Huh?
A rope around his ankle. He spun to see the bastard gripping the other end.
'That fucker!'
Whoosh!
He swung his sword to sever the rope, but it whipped away empty. Won Seung had circled around, redirecting it.
'You fucker?'
He tried pulling with the ensnared foot, nearly yelping in pain.
The foot he needed to brace on was the one pierced by the bolt. Applying force felt like shattering bone. He wrapped it in internal energy, but it couldn't fully numb the screaming nerves.
In that instant, the rope went taut.
He circulated energy to yank back, but the opponent's internal strength was no joke. With one foot already lifted and the injured one bearing his weight, Daesan was at a disadvantage.
Bolts kept coming amid the struggle.
Daesan swung to deflect them, then let out a screech.
The rope had kicked his leg sideways like a strike, and a bolt rode up his inner thigh into his perineum.
The perineum—one of the body's weakest and most vital acupoints.
Daesan collapsed, curling like a shrimp.
"Sorry. I was aiming for the sole..."
Won Seung lowered his left-hand crossbow, genuinely apologetic as one man to another.
He'd been pulling the rope with his right, so he had to shoot left-handed. Hitting precisely in that state wasn't easy...
Daesan didn't hear the apology to the end.
Thud-thud-thud!
Dozens of bolts rained down, turning him into a porcupine.
At that moment, Eumdo's head was severed by Hwa Cheon-un's sword. Already mortally wounded, he fell to the enraged Hwa Cheon-un's full-force strike.
"......"
Silence fell briefly.
Hwa Cheon-un glanced at Eumdo's rolling head and said to Hwa U-cheon,
"Strengthen the ambushes. More enemies might come."
Then he looked at Won Seung.
"......"
Without Won Seung tangling with Daesan, the outcome might've been different. Wounded or not, those two were masters skilled in linked techniques—if they'd attacked together, even Hwa Cheon-un would've struggled.
Hwa Cheon-un approached Won Seung and cupped his fists.
"I don't know who you are... but thank you for the aid."
Won Seung realized Hwa Cheon-un had recognized him despite the mask. So why pretend otherwise?
Under that piercing gaze, Won Seung felt a pang of guilt inwardly.
'He doesn't think I caused Yang Gwan's death, does he?'
He subtly averted his eyes.
Won Seung felt awkward as Hwa Cheon-un formally cupped his fists with a straight face.
Tch! Does he think I'm here to steal his daughter or something?
What's with ignoring his daughter's friend?
I only stepped in because I felt a bit responsible for Yang Gwan's death...
Then it clicked—Hwa Cheon-un's intent.
As expected of Cheongsu Gate's fox...
Hwa Cheon-un had just witnessed Won Seung take down Daesan with darts, rope, and crossbow.
This guy's a killing expert.
And suddenly, Yang Gwan's death made sense. He'd gone to capture Won Seung and clearly fell to this man's tricks, somehow.
But Hwa Cheon-un had to play dumb.
'Yang Gwan died fighting Sangyang's Mad Dog.'
If Geom Yak Jong came investigating afterward, he'd deny it. So he framed Won Seung as a total stranger.
It was hard to believe a Geom Yak Jong elder fell to some nameless local master, but with multiple witnesses, who could argue?
Won Seung caught on and returned the fist-cup to Hwa Cheon-un.
"This old man couldn't stand by on the way past and intervened. There are many more enemies outside."
He even roughened his voice to sound aged.
Hwa Cheon-un was dumbfounded that Won Seung called himself an old man. This guy?
Unable to respond, he just glared, and Won Seung slipped aside.
Hwa Yeo-wol stood dazed in the spot Won Seung had shoved her to.
From shoving Hwa Yeo-wol, throwing darts, dropping prone to fire the crossbow, and looping the rope around Daesan's ankle—it had all happened in a blink.
One fluid motion, really.
Hwa Yeo-wol had sensed the dart throw wasn't ordinary and dropped as instructed, but she was puzzled.
Then seeing the crossbow pierce Daesan's ankle followed by the rope snaring the good one... she blanked out.
Do martial artists fight like that?
The jianghu she'd heard of was full of heroes. Not quite the old ways of naming themselves, performing rituals, then dueling—but ropes?
Yet it wasn't clumsy. He handled Daesan like someone long-trained to capture people.
Hwa Yeo-wol watched Won Seung approach.
Is this really the Won Seung I know? I want to unmask him and check.
Won Seung sent a transmission.
-Yeo-wol, snap out of it. Remember what I told you? Hurry and tell your father.
Hwa Yeo-wol came to and looked at him.
-I'm going. I'll come keep our promise.
Won Seung leaped away.
He had to vanish while Hwa Cheon-un showed goodwill. Byeok Gyoo Un searching for Yang Gwan would spell trouble.
'Leave boldly when regret lingers. That's how memories last.'
With that, he vaulted Cheongsu Gate's wall.
The night of slaughter was ending as the eastern sky lightened to gray.
Won Seung slipped through alleys out of Cheongsu Gate when someone called.
"Over here!"
It was Jong Bi, peeking from a second-floor railing like an owl.
Won Seung climbed up and crouched beside her.
"What're you doing here?"
"Went home and nearly died."
Jong Bi recounted her fight with Gwisoo. When Cheol Mado and the black society thugs appeared, she'd fled with nowhere to go and wandered seeking Won Seung around Cheongsu Gate.
"This place is dangerous too."
"Feels like it. There are more than a few hiding everywhere."
No sooner had she spoken than a boom of clashing energies erupted.
They peeked over the railing.
Tiles shot skyward from the Red Flame Trio's direction.
The night of slaughter... wasn't over yet.
'Who's fighting?'
The Red Flame Trio looked mighty strong. Was there someone in Sangyang who could take them on?
Many masters had died tonight: Gu Ja-ang, Yang Gwan, Sangyang's Mad Dog, Dosanrim's sword killers... Cheongsu Gate lost Hwa Cheon-baek, and Hwa Cheon-gang was gravely wounded.
Remaining masters... Ilgwon Pasan's Cheon Seok-san? But Red Flame First Strike had gone to Gwancheonbang, so he'd be busy there.
Then again, how well do I know Sangyang's masters...
Who the hell is it?
Won Seung's curiosity piqued.
The black society thugs trailing behind ran into the hidden Red Flame Trio. With fifty-odd black dao swarming, the dawn streets buzzed.
Gang Chun-mok vented his irritation.
"Clear those fuckers out! They're exposing our position!"
Too late. Cheon Seok-san, dragging Gwancheonbang swordsmen, spotted the black dao crowding the street.
Cheon Seok-san widened his fierce eyes and glared at the Red Flame Trio amid them, exuding cold menace.
"Kill them all!"
As Gwancheonbang swordsmen drew blades and charged ferociously, the black society thugs panicked and fled into alleys.
Gang Chun-mok was baffled.
"Are those really black society?"