Back to Square One (2)
Ga-in, deputy leader of the Baek-ryong-dan, opened her eyes.
Her head throbbed with a hangover.
Aigoo, how much did I drink last night?
She slowly sat up.
The blanket slipped away, revealing the back of the man lying beside her.
A scar on his back that always sent a chill down her spine, no matter how many times she saw it.
It was a long sword wound stretching from his left shoulder to his right waist—so deep and vicious that it was a miracle his body hadn't been cleaved in two.
She traced the scar gently with her fingers and murmured,
"Every time I see you, your rank's dropped another notch."
The man stirred awake and replied,
"If it's embarrassing, you can toss me aside."
He was Baek So-cheon. This was a different side of him from the prickly, cold man she'd seen in the interrogation room earlier. Now, he felt soft, almost gentle.
"If I wanted to, I would've ditched you ages ago."
She gave a faint smile and added,
"Truth be told, there's no good place to dump a guy like you anyway."
Ga-in was five years Baek So-cheon's junior. They met occasionally for drinks and shared beds. They weren't lovers, colleagues, or even friends—but they were more comfortable with each other than anyone else. They kept two simple promises: no prying into each other's private lives, no clinginess.
"Where do you think they'll send you?"
"No idea. Maybe even to your Baek-ryong-dan."
"Hard pass."
"Why?"
"Why do you think? If I saw you every day, it'd be this good? I'd have to stay on edge all the time. Show you my bare face without makeup. No thanks."
"That mess from last night was your made-up face?"
"You've got some guts. A martial artist woman right behind you."
Only then did Baek So-cheon roll over to face her. His chest bore a massive scar, just like his back.
A thunderbolt-shaped mark.
She'd heard that strikes from the Black Heaven Alliance Lord's Byeok-ryeok Shin-geom left scars like lightning bolts.
That's why she'd asked him once before.
No way, right?
Of course not.
Why had she pressed with that extra "right?"
Fear. The Murim Alliance Lord was the one who'd clashed with the Black Heaven Alliance Lord in a life-or-death duel—or so the world believed. She dreaded hearing from Baek So-cheon's lips, That was my fight. She feared becoming the one who learned a secret she shouldn't.
His shoulder and abdomen carried more scars.
The purple one on his shoulder resembled a butterfly taking flight; the one on his stomach looked like something had ripped into him whole, a gruesome tear.
Every time she saw his scarred body, she compared it to her own flawless, smooth skin and wondered if she'd been too cautious with her life. Even through the wars, she'd been lucky enough to escape unscathed.
"Why not just quit while you're at it?"
"Maybe I will."
She knew there was some reason he couldn't leave the alliance. She'd never asked about it and never would. It was the deepest part of his private life.
Knowing he wouldn't go, she could speak freely.
"Quit and do something you've always wanted to try."
"Never thought about it."
"Try it now."
"Hm."
Baek So-cheon had never once imagined life outside the Murim Alliance.
"Live doing stuff you haven't tried. Open a shop or something."
"Think you could handle asshole customers?"
"Nah. The place would be a bloodbath every day."
Ga-in pondered for a moment, then came up with something new.
"How about wandering the Central Plains for fun? Sample local delicacies, meet beauties from every region."
"I've been everywhere in the Central Plains."
"Farm then. Or be a hunter, a herb gatherer—live like a carefree immortal."
"Sounds boring already."
"Murim troubleshooter?"
"Can't even fix my own problems."
"Ah."
She clutched her head in mock despair, then made a grand proposal.
"Fine. Since you're not doing anything, conquer the Murim world."
"Should I?"
"Oho, a real man after all?"
"Gotta dream big sometime."
"So later, when they ask why you turned the jianghu into a sea of blood, you'll say some woman named Ga-in told you to?"
"You always need someone to take the blame."
Baek So-cheon and Ga-in looked at each other and laughed. Jokes only possible from bodies without a scrap of inner power.
"Ah, I'm late. Gotta go."
She dressed first. In her thirties now, she still had the stunning figure and silky skin from their first time together.
"Round two?"
"Three times last night. Think about your age."
"Five's a breeze."
"Stare at the mirror and flex all you want."
She leaned in and planted a light kiss on his forehead.
"Big kid. You've got nowhere left to get kicked out of. Stay out of trouble, okay?"
"Gotta eat to live. I'll try."
"I'm off."
"See ya."
"Meet other women too. I'll back off anytime. You're the scary one if you get attached."
Ga-in left the room. Walking down the hall, she gave a wry chuckle.
Was that really why?
No. She was afraid she'd get attached to him. He couldn't use inner power, but that didn't matter. She'd protect him, feed him.
That's why. Even in his worst state as a martial artist, he was magnetic. Falling for a man like this would hurl her life into a mad storm.
There was another fear.
Baek So-cheon was still charming now—but in ten years? No guarantee he wouldn't become a washed-up drunk pining for past glories. His history was too brilliant to dismiss the risk.
And one more.
Over the past three years, she'd sometimes sensed his wandering wasn't just from lost inner power.
Some other wound, that unknowable shadow—it stirred greater unease than all the rest.
Whatever the reasons, she couldn't picture a future with him. Wouldn't picture it.
I'm just that kind of girl. Sorry, sunbae.
Left alone, Baek So-cheon gazed at the mirror on the wall.
As she'd said, his reflection looked utterly worn out.
Not just from three rounds last night, but a deep fatigue built over three long years.
* * *
When Baek So-cheon returned to the Cheol-geom-dan, No Woong of the third squad was waiting for him. The one who admired and followed Baek So-cheon most in the squad. Baek So-cheon had beaten superiors but never subordinates, so he still had plenty of loyal men who liked him.
"Squad leader!"
"Not squad leader anymore."
"Damn! The rumors are true. I'll round up the guys and flip this place upside down."
"Why? Pile on more trouble so they boot me for good?"
"No way! There was definitely an ambush. You saved all our lives!"
"Enough. Don't make a scene. Out."
"I'll go on a hunger strike."
"You, who lives for food? Hunger strike?"
"That's what makes it a fight."
"Out. I'm tired."
"Yes, sir."
No Woong paused at the door and added,
"There was an ambush that day. I believe you, squad leader."
"I know. Now go."
From outside, No Woong greeted someone.
Soon, another man entered.
"Man, you're prickly. They're all worried about the captain."
The newcomer was Hwang Il-bi, leader of the first squad in the Cheol-geom-dan.
The Cheol-geom-dan had seven squads, each divided into five units. Baek So-cheon had led the third unit of the first squad. Now demoted to regular soldier.
"Don't call him captain."
"Got it. Anyway, now I can call you whatever. Bro Baek! That work?"
Hwang Il-bi called Baek So-cheon "captain" because he'd joined during Baek So-cheon's tenure as Cheol-geom-dan lord. Now their roles were reversed.
"Why're you here?"
"Why? Gonna chew me out and kick me too?"
He plopped on the bed as if it were nothing and asked,
"So, what'd they say? Letting you stay in the Cheol-geom-dan?"
"Transferring me somewhere new."
"Those Am-yeong-gak bastards. No flexibility."
"Better without me, right? Admit it—you were uncomfortable with me around."
"What's your deal? Get hives if we're close? Cringe if I say something nice?"
"Shut up. Out."
"Nope."
"Forgot? My demotion was for assaulting a superior. You're my superior now."
"You know how cool our captain—no, Bro Baek—was when I pledged to the alliance?"
"Cool my ass."
"Back then, you were really..."
"Cut the shitty past talk."
"Why curse like some thug? You didn't back then."
"Didn't need to then. Scared dogs bark loudest. Weaklings curse. Done. Get out."
"Damn! You make it so relatable, I can't stay."
Just then, a warrior arrived with news for Hwang Il-bi.
"Squad leader, the captain's summoning you urgently."
"That guy's timing is always shit."
Hwang Il-bi stood from the bed and said,
"Have a drink before you go. No welcome party at your new spot, so let's do a proper farewell shot."
"Pass."
Hwang Il-bi left at the curt reply.
"Fine. Off to pledge loyalty to our real captain."
Alone, Baek So-cheon packed his few belongings into his travel sack: a few changes of training clothes and odds and ends.
Slinging the sack over his shoulder, he crossed the training grounds, then paused.
His gaze fixed on the distant Alliance Lord's hall.
After staring a moment, he resumed walking and left the alliance.
Someone watched from afar.
Cheol-geom-dan lord Chung Yang.
His eyes blazed with malice. No wonder—Baek So-cheon had been demoted partly for "assaulting a superior," and that superior was him.
"Arrogant prick."
Recalling the incident fueled his hatred.
When Baek So-cheon, his former superior, became his subordinate, Chung Yang naturally resented it. Baek So-cheon wasn't the obedient type.
Still, Chung Yang should've ignored him. Baek So-cheon never started fights.
But like a thorn in his throat, Chung Yang escalated a trivial matter into a harsh reprimand.
I'll make you remember who's boss.
He hadn't realized one thing.
Baek So-cheon was broken enough to beat even a superior. In front of his men, Chung Yang got thoroughly thrashed. No inner power, yet impossibly fast and strong.
In rage, he'd nearly unleashed his own power for a counterattack.
His subordinates had desperately stopped him—a wise move in hindsight. Hurting the powerless Baek So-cheon would've tarnished his reputation.
"Why doesn't that leech leave? What's left to suck dry?"
Venting his loathing, Chung Yang glanced back.
"You think I sent the third unit into an ambush too?"
"No way, sir."
The man behind him was Hwang Il-bi, who'd just left Baek So-cheon's room.
"You like that bastard, don't you? Hang on his every word."
"Misunderstanding."
"You do."
"Just playing along. You know how prickly he is."
"True. Filthiest temper in headquarters."
A smug grin spread across Chung Yang's face.
"No more seeing that ugly mug."
"Pardon?"
"Posting's set. Jeol-gang Province, Mun-seong branch."
The Mun-seong branch was far from headquarters, a forgotten corner of the Central Plains. Not even a branch office—a true exile.
"Sending him far."
"I pulled strings. He'll rot there and die a backwater ghost."
Chung Yang was ambitious and political. He'd leveraged his connections to banish Baek So-cheon. No need to watch the Alliance Lord's reaction anymore; this proved even he had given up on Baek So-cheon.
Hwang Il-bi watched Baek So-cheon's retreating figure.
...Captain.
He wanted to follow to the Mun-seong branch. Here, men at least minded the Alliance Lord. But in that backwater, without inner power—what dangers awaited? Would he hold back with that prickly temper? He'd eliminate any filth that crossed his path.
But he couldn't follow. Baek So-cheon had his life; Hwang Il-bi had his own.
Sorry. Not enough to drop everything and chase you.
If he were single, he might've gone.
But he had a precious wife and child. Still, he'd pondered it once or twice—that's how much he liked Baek So-cheon.
The man who'd never said a kind word. Why did he like him so much? From the start. There was something humanly magnetic about him, hard to explain. That's why Hwang Il-bi hurt most watching him fall apart.
You're no backwater ghost. We'll meet again soon. Rest up somewhere scenic. Oh, and no booze for you, so I'll drink your farewell share with this jerk.
Hwang Il-bi flashed a bright smile at Chung Yang.
"Such a fine day—let's raise a celebratory glass, shall we?"