The Vanished Bracelet
Clunk.
The locked door swung open.
This is the place.
The secret chamber of the Baekcheonmun Lord lay before him. The middle-aged man swept the room with eyes thick with greed.
Everyone else is elsewhere.
After confirming that no presence lingered nearby, he still moved as quickly as he could into the hidden space, though he had time to spare.
I have to find the Cheonhwangdo Map.
Around him, the costly treasures and golden ornaments the Baekcheonmun Lord had amassed were carefully displayed. None of them registered in his eyes. His gaze darted about the chamber, hunting for the one thing he wanted.
…!
And there, nestled among the precious relics, he found a wooden box.
The seal of the Middle Kingdom’s Merchant State. No mistake.
He opened it.
This… is…?
Inside lay a dull black bracelet, the sort of cheap trinket one might see for sale at a street market. Yet fine, delicate images had been etched into its surface.
This has to be it.
A triumphant smile touched the middle-aged man’s lips as he lifted the black bracelet and fastened it around his wrist.
They’re coming now.
He dropped one glittering jewel into the open box in plain view, then shut the lid. No one would ever know what had truly been inside.
Footsteps hammered closer.
“Lord Moyong, when did you get in?”
The presence that had rushed in from outside called to the middle-aged man as its owner stepped into the secret chamber.
“Lord Peng, I only just found the place and came in myself. Though I confess I have no idea what the Cheonhwangdo Map even looks like.”
Peng Ga-u, Lord of the Hebei Peng Family, fixed Moyong Nam, Lord of the Moyong Family, with a brief, suspicious look. The man had slipped beyond his notice for roughly a quarter of an hour.
Moments later, all five family lords were inside the secret chamber and began ransacking its contents.
“What about this one! It bears the seal of the Middle Kingdom’s Merchant State.”
Peng Ga-u held out the wooden box he had found.
“Lord Peng, open it.”
“Very well.”
Click.
Inside the opened box sat a single red jewel.
The Lord of the Shandong Ak Family frowned and asked, “Is that really the Cheonhwangdo Map…?”
“I wouldn’t know. This is the first time I’ve seen it myself…”
They examined the jewel, but it merely glittered. Nothing about it suggested any connection to the Cheonhwangdo Map.
Moyong Nam shook his head.
“It would appear the thing is not here either. Just as the Baekcheonmun Lord outside claimed, it seems to be gone. Have we not been deceived by the one who sent us into this place?”
“Hmm? Giving up rather quickly, aren’t you, Lord Moyong?”
“If Lord Peng wishes to keep searching, by all means do so. Or take the box with you, if you like. I, for one, will waste no more time on a fruitless errand. The Moyong Family will withdraw, just as the Namgung Family did before us.”
“You didn’t by chance find the real thing inside that box, did you?”
Moyong Nam spread his arms wide with a look of pure exasperation.
“If any of you doubt me, search my person.”
Ak Cheong, Lord of the Shandong Family, examined him thoroughly. Nothing of note was found. No one noticed that one more ordinary black bracelet now hung upon his wrist.
“Satisfied? I am leaving. To be suspected like this is truly disappointing.”
Moyong Nam opened his eyes and smiled.
Already twenty-five years ago…
He had smuggled the black bracelet—suspected to be part of the Cheonhwangdo Map—out of Baekcheonmun. Back then he had been nearly feverish with the thought that he might find Cheonhwangdo at once. That excitement had not lasted long.
The Cheonhwangdo Map created by Man Chugeum, last lord of the Middle Kingdom’s Merchant State, had never been a single piece.
In the end, one must obtain all four maps before the location of Cheonhwangdo can be known.
Upon returning to his family, Moyong Nam had hidden the bracelet in a place known only to himself. The risk of keeping something that might reveal Cheonhwangdo’s whereabouts constantly on his person was simply too great.
And for the twenty-five years that followed, he had searched for the remaining pieces of the Cheonhwangdo Map—and failed.
Not a single clue in all that time… Tch.
Then as now, all he knew was that the Merchant State’s lord had fashioned four maps.
So only one method remains?
If he meant to drag the hidden pieces of the Cheonhwangdo Map up into the open, he would have to use a different approach from anything he had tried before.
I can wait no longer.
Moyong Nam had not the slightest desire to hand Cheonhwangdo down to the next generation—to his own children.
This is mine. I will never give it to anyone else. Not even to my own son…
Suddenly he wanted to look upon the black bracelet again.
He rose and stepped into his bedchamber. There stood a bed of red jade, its four sides carved with the patterns of crimson dragons. Moyong Nam approached, laid his hand upon the wish-granting pearl clenched in one great dragon’s jaws, and poured his inner energy into it.
A low, resonant hum answered. A faint sound rose from beneath the bed, and the floor began to open.
A secret chamber.
Heh heh heh.
Moyong Nam descended at a measured pace until his figure vanished from the bedchamber. Three or four steps into the space below, he froze as if his entire body had locked rigid, eyes flying wide.
“It’s… gone.”
The place where the black bracelet should have been was empty. Hollow.
Color flooded Moyong Nam’s face; killing intent poured from his eyes. He searched the chamber again. The bracelet that belonged there was still nowhere to be seen.
“Kh… uhh… Who… which bastard…!!”
Within the Moyong Family, not a single person knew of the secret space beneath his bed. He had kept it hidden even from his wife and children.
He could not believe it.
Mastering his fury, he climbed back into the bedchamber, made his way to his study, and sat, forcing his breath to slow.
Someone entered while I was away.
Yet he had never left his post while remaining within the family grounds. If there had been any such absence…
Moyong Nam spoke in a low voice.
“Ghost. Show yourself.”
“Yes, my lord.”
A man the color of pale ash materialized at Moyong Nam’s side and sank into a deep bow.
“Who entered this place while I was gone?”
“…”
Ghost hesitated, offering no reply. Moyong Nam’s eyes, thick with killing intent, seemed ready to bore straight through the man’s face. Yet his voice remained as even as ever.
“Something has happened, I take it.”
“I… left my post for a moment.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“A masked man infiltrated the grounds in secret. I left my station for only a very short time in order to capture the intruder.”
“And did you catch him?”
“Forgive me. His movement technique was too swift. He escaped.”
Moyong Nam swallowed the rage boiling inside him and asked again.
“How long were you away from your post?”
“Less than half a quarter-hour. When I returned, there was not a single trace.”
Listening to Ghost’s answer, Moyong Nam became certain of when the object had vanished.
Taken in less than half a quarter-hour. That is something no one could manage without knowing the chamber existed beneath the bed.
He was convinced it had to be someone from within.
“Ghost. While I was away at the Zhuge Family, learn who left our grounds.”
“Understood.”
Whoosh.
Ghost’s form vanished in a trail of gray inner energy, then reappeared a quarter-hour later.
“My lord, I report.”
“Have you found them?”
“The Third Young Master is nowhere to be found. He has always been the sort to stay out overnight, so the family seems not to have paid it much mind. He has not been seen on the grounds for nearly half a month.”
“…”
His third son, Moyong Jeok.
Among his five sons, the boy had always been the quiet one. He possessed not even a shred of talent for martial arts. In a martial family, the weak simply fell away of their own accord. As the years passed, Moyong Nam had spoken less and less with Moyong Jeok. The boy was so silent that at times it was impossible to guess what he was thinking.
A certainty settled over Moyong Nam.
That one is the culprit.
The sheer absurdity of it left him speechless.
I took a proper hit. But… he would never have done this alone. I wonder who stands behind him.
Finding the vanished Moyong Jeok came first.
“Ghost. Take the Beidou Unit and go. Capture the third son as quickly as possible. You must take him—no exceptions.”
“I receive my lord’s command.”
Among the influential houses of Xinyang in Henan was Buhal Mountain Villa. In the merchant world, it commanded so many trading companies that it rivaled even the Ten Guilds of Sangcheon.
And of late, its lord, Han Muk, had been unable to sleep for worry.
A month earlier, a single letter had arrived at Buhal Mountain Villa. Its contents were simple.
In half a month, I will come to collect the Hoesang-rok.
Yet Han Muk himself had no idea what the letter meant.
“I haven’t the faintest notion what this Hoesang-rok is supposed to be.”
“My lord, some madman must have far too much free time on his hands.”
Steward Jang Bo-un dismissed the matter without concern.
“Steward Jang, there are plenty of madmen about these days. See to it that no trouble arises around the villa.”
“You need not worry. One hundred martial artists are permanently stationed at this villa.”
Jang Bo-un still thought the matter simple. The villa stood in a narrow gorge; with a hundred martial artists standing guard, no one could force their way in lightly.
The half-month named in the letter came and went. Evening deepened, and nothing happened.
Then, precisely at the hour of Hai, a figure cut through the martial artists guarding the lord’s hall and stepped inside—a masked man whose sword still dripped red onto the floor.
“On the way here I took the heads of the ones who were hiding.”
“…!!!”
“What of the Hoesang-rok?”
“W-what is that? I truly have no idea what this Hoesang-rok is supposed to—!”
A flash of steel.
In that instant the masked man’s sword skimmed past Han Muk’s right thigh.
“Aaagh!”
“I will ask once more. If you still claim ignorance, next time it will be your neck. And it will not end with a grazing wound.”
“N-no! I truly do not know! How could there be something called the Hoesang-rok in our villa? I have never even heard of it!”
Han Muk flattened himself against the floor on the spot.
“The lord of this place does not know what the Hoesang-rok is?”
“Th-that is so.”
“I find that hard to believe. Did you not hear of it from the previous lord?”
“That… a few years ago my father suddenly fell ill… His mind is no longer sound…”
“Dementia, then?”
“Yes. There are moments when he recovers himself, but most of the time he remembers nothing.”
Only then did the masked man lower the sword he had leveled at Han Muk’s throat.
“You have half a month. This time I leave without taking your head. But if you do not bring the Hoesang-rok before me half a month from now, your neck will be the one that rolls.”
Whoosh!!
The masked man’s form vanished.
Strength drained from Han Muk’s entire body; he collapsed where he stood. One hundred martial artists had guarded the villa, yet they had failed to stop a single assassin.
…Useless mouths that do nothing but waste rice…!!
The next day, Han Muk summoned his steward and told him what had happened the previous night. Jang Bo-un’s face went pale; he had no idea what to do.
“I-I am sorry, my lord. I will recruit more martial artists at once.”
“…”
He stole a glance at the lord’s dark expression.
“Is there… something else you wish to say?”
“Even with a hundred men at the villa, we could not stop an assassin from walking in. If their skill is of a similar level, even a thousand would not be enough!”
“Th-then…”
“An eye for an eye, would you not agree? To stop an assassin, we must hire an assassin of our own.”
“Ah… that does seem a sound idea.”
And now.
Whoosh!
A figure settled onto a rooftop. Another followed close behind and dropped into place beside the first.
A man in a broad bamboo hat that hid his face and a woman in a white hat surveyed the buildings around them.
Quite a few are hidden. But… they’re rather clumsy about it.
The man in the bamboo hat was Uncheon, arrived from the Yaweol Sect. The white hat belonged to Ha Jiryeon, the Alluring Assassin.
Uncheon had meant to come to the villa alone, but this being his first mission, the sect lord had shown consideration by sending Ha Jiryeon with him.
Lord Han Muk’s condition for the contract was simple: enter Buhal Mountain Villa unseen and appear before him.
He wants to test my skill. Well then—shall we meet?
Whoosh!
Uncheon and Ha Jiryeon’s forms vanished from the roof. The martial artists concealed around the lord’s hall never sensed a single presence. They had been certain that not even an ant could enter the lord’s hall undetected.
Nearly fifty martial artists kept double and triple watch, their forms carefully hidden.
Nod… nod…
Yet Han Muk sat in his chair, dozing. He could not rest easy enough to sleep properly.
Uncheon understood him perfectly.
He doesn’t want to die. Sleep comes, but he feels he’ll die if he gives in to it.
Han Muk still had no idea Uncheon was there.
Tap. Tap.
“If you’re tired, you may as well sleep comfortably.”
Uncheon struck a pressure point lightly and sent the man into unconsciousness. Ha Jiryeon started in surprise.
“What are you doing?”
“He looked exhausted. Let’s let him get some proper rest.”
Uncheon lifted the unconscious Han Muk, whose head had lolled back, and laid him gently on the bed.
He’ll sleep soundly until morning.
Uncheon took the seat where the man had been dozing.
“We may as well rest ourselves until morning comes.”
Han Muk’s eyes snapped open on the bed.
Hah! Where…
He sat up and realized he was lying on his own bed.
“How… did I…?”
“You looked thoroughly exhausted, so I took the liberty of laying you on the bed.”
“…?!”
An unfamiliar man’s voice came from the seat across the room. Han Muk jolted upright as if a spring had launched him. Two figures sat there, faces hidden by a bamboo hat and a white hat.
“Do not be alarmed. We are from the Yaweol Sect.”
“Ah—the Yaweol Sect…”
He had received word that Steward Jang Bo-un had placed a request with them. Among the assassin sects of the Central Plains, the Yaweol Sect ranked among the Class A houses.
“I have heard the rough outline of the situation. We entered unseen, just as you wished, Manor Lord. Is that satisfactory?”
Breached by assassins once again. This time, mercifully, they were not enemies, so he still had his life—but it made plain that no number of guards at the villa would make a difference.
“All that expensive hired muscle, and for nothing…”
“Manor Lord, the fault is not theirs. To stop an assassin, you need martial artists whose five senses far exceed the ordinary. Failing that, you must layer your guard as thickly as possible.”
Han Muk looked at Uncheon in the bamboo hat and asked, “You mean the method of the guard was wrong?”
“I do. Even if your guards surround the lord’s hall, no direction is ever perfect. Invisible gaps open in the spaces between them.”
“Ah…”
Han Muk felt he had placed his request in the right hands after all.
“Then could you teach them how to stand proper guard?”
“There is no longer any need.”
“What…?”
“Is it not better that no one knows I have arrived? The assassin as well must remain unaware of our presence.”
“Ah… I understand what you mean.”
Han Muk nodded. Even within the villa, only the steward knew that a request had been made to the Yaweol Sect.
“Even when you cannot see us, we will remain at your side. Live as you always have.”
“Understood.”
Seeing the people the Yaweol Sect had sent, Han Muk felt a measure of relief. He had confirmed they possessed abilities on par with the assassin who had come to kill him.
Knock. Knock.
At that moment, Steward Jang Bo-un’s voice came from beyond the door.
“My lord, it is Steward Jang.”
“Come in.”
Jang Bo-un opened the door and stepped inside. No one was there but Lord Han Muk.
“My lord. Tomorrow is the deadline the assassin named… Yet the ones I contacted still do not seem to have arrived.”
“…?”
Han Muk glanced toward the place where the bamboo-hatted man had been standing only moments before.
Where did he go?
But the figure was already gone; no trace of where he had vanished remained.
Then a voice transmission brushed his ear.
Han Muk kept his expression carefully unremarkable as he answered.
“Steward Jang, if an arrangement has been made, they will arrive sometime tomorrow. Let us wait.”
“Ah… yes… Understood.”
Ordinarily the lord would have scolded him for failing to have things ready on time.
Strange…
He regarded Lord Han Muk with a suspicious eye.