The Trap
“Little brother!”
Yi Jingang shot to his feet. As he kicked off from his spot to rush forward, the shorty draped a blade across his throat.
“Don’t move carelessly.”
“Eek!”
Ignoring the sharp edge, Yi Jingang thrashed wildly. Fresh gashes opened deep, blood pouring freely. The shorty withdrew his knife—thwack!—and slammed a fist into him. Yi Jingang let out a guttural gurgle before collapsing to the ground.
Yi Jinpyeong had no time to worry about his brother. Most of his body had stiffened in an instant, locking him in place. The needle embedded in the dirt floor wasn’t lethal poison, thankfully. But it packed a paralyzing toxin potent enough to numb him outright.
He could barely move his face, but fighting with just eyes, nose, and mouth wasn’t feasible.
“Gotcha. We got him!”
The man clutching his belly cackled foolishly, wiping tears from his eyes.
“Brat. Didn’t you call me sloppy? Well? Who’s the sloppy rookie now?”
Yi Jinpyeong smiled bitterly. How had he stumbled into this bastard’s trap?
Yi Gyeol in his previous life had reached the realm of Ten Thousand Poisons Immunity, immune to mere toxins. But now? He had to watch out even for falling leaves.
Looking back, the signs had been there. Moments that should’ve foreshadowed the trap. Luring him here on purpose. The man hadn’t budged an inch from start to finish. His underlings swinging blades in place without advancing rashly.
Everything from the beginning had been meticulously prepared.
He hadn’t expected the bastard’s own skills to be formidable and backed by such thorough preparation. No excuses—this was his own blunder.
As Yi Jinpyeong reflected, the man pulled out various needles, comparing them in deep thought. Why did the creep carry so damn many?
“Yes, this one’ll do!”
He selected an eerily long needle, grinning wickedly at Yi Jinpyeong.
“Brat. Know what poison’s coated on this?”
I don’t want to know.
“None at all. Just a slender needle. That’s the beauty of it. Poke it right, and it heals. Stab deep in the wrong spot... and you’ll discover sensations you’ve never dreamed of. Heh heh heh!”
New sensations? Pass.
The man rolled his eyes with a leer. Definitely a pervert. His looks screamed it.
Facing mortal peril, Yi Jinpyeong spoke up.
“Couldn’t we settle this peacefully with words? ‘The four seas are one family,’ right?”
The man blinked in confusion, then clutched his belly, roaring with laughter.
“Hah! What a lunatic! You yapped and strutted like you owned the place, and now? ‘Four seas one family’? Peace?!”
“I figured you were just some fraud impersonating the Tang Clan. How was I to know the mighty Tang family of the world would grace this backwater personally? If I’d known, none of this happens. I’d have groveled face-down, awaiting judgment.”
“Hmph. Pathetic. Desperate enough to spew nonsense. You pegged my clan on sight earlier—now playing dumb? Such tricks don’t work on this body.”
With some breathing room, the bastard sounded sharper.
“This fight started in the streets to begin with. Why would someone destined for great things in the vast Central Plains bother with scraps around Dongjeong Lake?”
“True, it’s not for this body to handle.”
The smug man replied.
“But I prefer sweeping obstacles aside quick. Business stalled, so I checked—turns out Jang Gapae idiots were blaming you Yi Gajang lot. The descendants of legendary Yi Gajang? Had to see for myself.”
“...Didn’t know our family still had such fans.”
He chuckled.
“Fans? Just wanted to eye the relic of some dusty old testament.”
Testament. Was he referring to Yi Gyeol’s last words?
But the bastard said something unexpected.
“One of our Tang ancestors left a testament: Never advance near Dongjeong Lake. Don’t even glance that way. Know why?”
“......”
“To warn us never to tangle with you damned Yi Gajang fools.”
Yi Jinpyeong smirked. Absurd.
He hadn’t expected the Tang Clan’s testament to be about his family. A warning to steer clear of Yi Gajang, no less.
The gigolo-esque pretty boy cackled on.
“Hilarious, right? That’s the whole testament from our ancestor. No explanation, no reason. Just ‘Beware Yi Gajang. Don’t tangle. Stay away from Dongjeong Lake.’ Back then? Made sense. Yi Gyeol, the once-top dog, was a nasty piece of work. Arrogant, cocky, no respect for rank... beating folks left and right. Everyone dodged him.”
That era’s Yi Gyeol stood before him now. Same prickly personality intact.
Oblivious, the bastard blabbered excitedly.
“But that was then. Yi Gajang declined ages ago—practically extinct. So why should a great house like ours Tang Clan be bound by some archaic warning, letting riffraff carve up this land of milk and honey at Dongjeong Lake?”
“......”
“What’d you call me earlier? Side branch? Lost the succession fight? Hmph. Outsiders might see it that way. But this body merely crouched low to leap higher. Things’ll change soon. Smash Yi Gajang so they never block us again, swallow Dongjeong Lake, swell our power—who’d dare look down then?”
He closed in. The needle in his hand gleamed, over ten chun long. Imagining it buried deep sent chills down the spine.
“I’ll grant you’re nimble. Not all talk—decent skill. But no matter your tricks, you’re in my palm. Your brother’s worse. Pitifully weak! Heir to the world’s greatest? That scrawny, withered frame? That flailing, dance-like swordplay... heh heh heh!”
Shaking with laughter. Yi Jinpyeong glanced at Yi Jingang.
His brother sat up again, blade at his throat, body caked in dried and fresh blood. The day’s endless pain made even sitting a struggle. And the mockery raining down.
Yet he ignored his plight. Eyes full of worry fixed on Yi Jinpyeong, repeating like a parrot.
“Little brother. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I dragged you into danger. As the eldest, I lack the strength to protect you all... the family.”
Yi Jingang. What’re you sorry for? Why claim all the blame? Why cling to pointless duty?
“Our brother is...”
Yi Jinpyeong trailed off, sighing deeply.
The man grinned.
“Still calls that loser ‘brother.’ Me? I’d have beaten him dead and seized the patriarch seat. Heaven’s blind. Someone kidnap Dang Sohwi already? I’d cheer and beg them to just kill him!”
Eyes gleaming with delusion. Yi Jinpyeong spoke.
“Our brother’s been on a long hunger fast lately—low stamina. And his compassion overflows, so he won’t draw steel lightly on lowly scum.”
“What?”
The man stared, baffled. Calmly, Yi Jinpyeong continued.
“But this body’s different. Even against vermin, I go all out. Or they keep crawling back—learned that early.”
“You mad bastard! Spouting what?!”
“Rookie. That’s you. Mindless of rank, clueless of place—vermin.”
“This punk—mouth running even now?!”
Face twisting, he jabbed the needle viciously. Yi Jinpyeong’s hand blocked it.
The man’s eyes flew wide. Real shock this time. Pure alarm.
Yes. That look.
Yi Jinpyeong grinned wide.
“Rookie. You gave me too much time.”
His fist smashed into the gigolo’s face.
Crack!
***
“Gaaah!”
The man screamed, tumbling back. Mid-fall, he sprang to soften the impact, flicking his sleeve to unleash dozens of hidden weapons. Solid fundamentals, clearly drilled.
Yi Jinpyeong spun, shedding his half-tattered shirt with a whirl. It dissolved in a hiss, baring his still-skinny torso—pale skin mottled black from the recent poison.
The man hastily widened the gap. Yi Jinpyeong smacked his lips.
Pity. Should’ve ended it in one.
Fresh from paralysis, his power and precision fell short. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. The scrape had been razor-thin.
Without recently ascending to Cheonryu—second stage, wielding Mok-gi’s vital growth force—he couldn’t have shaken the paralysis so fast.
Had he been his past self, fully immune, he’d never have fallen for it.
Yanking the needle from his foot, he stepped forward. Circulating restorative qi surged faster. Black ooze dripped from his fingers; his face regained color.
All normal again.
Watching Yi Jinpyeong revert in real time, the man gaped in horror, clutching his bloodied face.
“H-how?! Damn it! All of you—charge! Hack him down!”
The warriors hesitated. Wary of the floor’s poison needles, it seemed. Only the gigolo knew their exact spots.
Yi Jinpyeong traced the man’s path, lunging. Distance closing fast.
“You idiots! Block him or you’re all dead!”
Warriors rushed, blades flashing. Yi Jinpyeong snatched the first sword, kicked an ankle to topple him, shoved forward. The flailing warrior backpedaled, stepped on something—whoosh! Hidden darts riddled him. His body turned sickly green, foam bubbling as he dropped.
Vicious poison.
Thorough prep.
Paralysis needles plus traps everywhere. The whole hill was a deathtrap. One misstep meant life or death... and the gigolo hurling darts like mad.
Yi Jinpyeong yanked, shoved, kicked, slashed relentlessly. Darts rained every color. But his foes ate the poison, dropping soundlessly.
Watching subordinates crumple without screams, the shorty holding Yi Jingang yelled desperately.
“Call them off, milord! You’re just losing men!”
“Shut it, you moron! You too—get over here and stop him!”
The gigolo flung more from his sleeve—inky black, needle-thin. They spread like a net, dissolving man and object alike in acrid smoke.
Gruesome.
Yi Jinpyeong pressed on. Shattering Wind Sword—blade danced with wind, shredding the needle web, closing another step.
Panicking, the man shouted as inspiration struck.
“No! Stay back! Cut the eldest’s throat! No—sever an arm! Now!”
Yi Jinpyeong faltered.
Too slow to end it quick—the worst had come.
Reading his face, the Tang bastard crowed triumphantly.
“Yes! That’s it! If he doesn’t stop, next arm. Still coming? Then his head!”