Don't Run Away
"Just as I thought. Impatient bastards never can wait."
Sun Wukong's voice was languid. Perhaps it was the long soak in the steaming water; a faint drowsiness clung to every word. He slowly surveyed the swordsmen filing into the bathhouse — the same martial artists who had stood behind the two younger brothers at the front gate, watching him with murderous eyes.
"No word from the assassins, and hiring those wandering swordsmen didn't work out either."
Truth be told, Sun Wukong didn't think the younger brothers were particularly wicked. Brothers turning blades on one another was everyday life in the martial world. Clutching at a sibling's throat for power and gold was everyday life among humans. The two worlds had simply merged into one. None of it stirred anything in him. His only interest was a single point of connection to the Yusal Sect.
"Don't you think it's a bit much, swarming in like this before a single night's even passed since the vice-master came home?"
The martial artists didn't dare make the first move. More than ten of them crowded into the cramped space, and yet none of them did a thing. It was the presence. The atmosphere. The pressure radiating from that infinitely leisurely expression and posture. That he hadn't so much as changed expression in the face of a sudden ambush filled them with a strange, creeping dread.
Sun Wukong rose slowly, water sloshing around him. Only then did one of them grit his teeth and shout.
"He's unarmed! No weapon! The bastard's stark naked!"
At the same instant, three or four blades slashed and thrust at his lower body, his upper body, his center. Sun Wukong clicked his tongue. He stamped down as if driving his foot through the floor. With a thunderous boom, a crack split through the jade bathtub.
"......!"
It couldn't hold. The tub shattered into fragments that exploded into the air. Sun Wukong's hand flicked lazily, and one of the soaring shards shot forth like a thunderbolt.
KRA-KRA-KRA-KRANG!
"Attacking a man in the bath? That's just rude, even by human standards."
Sun Wukong surged forward, irritation coloring his voice. All ten of them were reasonably skilled — which, of course, meant they weren't particularly good. The bathtub shard in his hand carved indiscriminate arcs through the air.
Shhk.
Everything that crossed those arcs shattered and tore apart in an instant. Every time that wet, ripping sound rang out, another charging martial artist crumpled, spraying blood. The floor ran thick with it.
The broken jade shards had no smooth edges. They were jagged, bristling with points. When swung, they didn't so much cut as they ripped. There was no secret technique in Sun Wukong's swings, no hidden meaning — just the lazy motion of a man swatting flies, as if the whole affair were a nuisance. Every movement was plainly visible. And yet they could neither dodge nor block. The cramped space, the steam filling every corner — all of it scrambled their senses.
"Guhk!"
"His feet! Go for his feet!"
Screams mixed with the shouts. Their raw, living terror poured out through their voices — the feeling of having become flies, insects. The terror of thrashing with everything they had and still being unable to escape, unable even to sink their teeth in and draw blood. All of it spread through the room in a terrible quiet. Above all because of the wounds — the way they dropped the instant they made contact. Wounds as if they'd been torn and shredded by those rough bathtub shards, far more horrific than any clean cut. A single brief clash left five or six gashes, and the martial artists screamed in agony as they fell one after another.
The time it took for half of them to go down: a single breath.
"......!"
They faltered. Those still outside the door, those who'd only set one foot across the threshold, took a step back with deathly pale faces. Sun Wukong's eyes went round.
"......!"
"I didn't kill anyone. It just hurts a bit. If I'd wanted you dead, I'd have ripped your heads off. Right?"
The casual, matter-of-fact way he said it made the martial artists take another step back. That lightly smiling face. Completely naked, strolling toward them with a jade shard that had once been snow-white and was now soaked in blood.
CLANG!
One of them dropped his sword on instinct. That was the start. Swords clattered to the floor one after another. And then they bowed their heads and dropped to their knees. Sun Wukong looked at the backs of their heads and clicked his tongue.
"You lot clean all this up. And you're paying for the damages too."
"......"
"Well?"
"Y-yes, sir!"
"Do a good job. I'll come back and inspect it."
With that, Sun Wukong sauntered out. The martial artist watching him go felt the corner of his eye twitch. It was clearly a leisurely stroll — and yet somehow the man was already at the far end of the corridor. Was that the gait of an immortal, folding space with every stride?
"Just who... did we pick a fight with?"
The martial artist's voice trembled.
"We had no choice."
Chu Jahyeok, the third son of the Chuhyeon Merchant Group, spoke with force, as if steeling his own resolve.
"Even if we sit still and do nothing, do you really think Eldest Brother is the kind of man who'd just leave us be?"
Chu Jain, the second son, bit his lip.
"That's true, but..."
"He's mild and cautious most of the time, but once he sets his mind to something, no one can stop him. He's the one who inherited Father's most ruthless nature. And he's more calculating than anyone. The moment Father passes and Eldest Brother takes over as merchant lord, the first thing he'll do is cut off our hands and feet."
"But it's not as if we lack ability. Wouldn't he put us to good use?"
Chu Jahyeok's eyes sank, just for a moment. His indecisive second brother was as frustrating as ever. He'd hesitated when they hired the assassin. He'd hesitated when they contacted the Green Forest bandits. They were well past the point of no return — and still he hesitated.
Second Brother isn't merchant lord material either.
No matter how he looked at it, the next man to lead the Chuhyeon Merchant Group should be himself. Chu Jahyeok forced down the hunger rising in his eyes and spoke with cold composure.
"The Yusal Sect isn't answering. The assassin is a lost cause. And the Green Forest men we hired failed too. That's the problem. Eldest Brother will move heaven and earth to find the culprit. One word to the Beggars' Guild or the Hao Clan and he'll have his answer in no time."
"Nngh..."
"He'll hand all our businesses and interests over to his sons. We'll be reduced to ordinary merchants. You already know this, Second Brother. That's why we commissioned the assassination in the first place!"
Chu Jahyeok kept talking, building the justification for his own actions. Chu Jain knew all of this — and had no choice but to accept it.
"There's no going back now."
The two brothers had poured their own funds into gathering martial artists. They'd pulled in as many of the merchant group's own fighters as they could, and when that wasn't enough, they'd recruited wandering swordsmen from outside.
"We have to strike first. Fortunately, their strongest man — Jeokjin — is laid up with his injuries. The rest of their fighters are badly hurt too. They still have decent numbers, but if you add up everyone we've recruited recently, we outnumber them by half again."
"Do we have a real chance?"
"We do, Brother. We have to hit them tonight. We can't afford to wait even one more day."
Chu Jahyeok's eyes burned red. This was no time for leisure. The Green Forest had failed, which meant a counterattack was a certainty. Hiring wandering swordsmen to kill your own blood brother — by any measure of justification or decency, it was unforgivable. Even the merchant group's neutrals would turn against them and throw their support behind Vice-Master Chu Jahon. That much was certain. It was a race against time now. Even the indecisive second son, Chu Jain, understood that — however late.
"Why the assassination never happened..."
"The agreed deadline has already passed. Something must have happened to the Yusal Sect. In the end, we'll have to do it ourselves."
"Mm. Still, little brother... I'm worried about those wandering heroes who helped him."
"That's a fair point."
"You know how formidable those Green Forest bandits are. Even Jeokjin got wrecked like that. Won't those heroes take Eldest Brother's side?"
"Well... they probably will."
Chu Jahyeok assessed the situation coldly. He'd try to recruit them himself, if he were in that position. What could a merchant group offer, after all? A great deal of money.
"There's no such thing as a man who's above money."
"True enough. If Eldest Brother wants to win them over, he'll spend a fortune. That's exactly why I'm worried. Experts of that caliber..."
"Not necessarily."
"Hm?"
"Among my men there's a martial artist named Heo who's reached the peak of First-class. In his judgment, the two women are quite skilled — they've entered First-class — but the man is just a wastrel."
"A wastrel? Well, his looks and his manner did give that impression..."
"I had him look twice, in case the man was a hidden expert. But the way he walks, the air about him — he's completely detached from the martial world. The two women are probably just his bodyguards."
"But First-class is still quite high, isn't it?"
"I already told you, Brother. No one is above money."
The corner of Chu Jahyeok's mouth curled up. Chu Jain was indecisive, but he wasn't stupid. A merchant's blood ran in his veins too. The moment he grasped the meaning, his eyes went wide.
"Don't tell me you bought them off?"
"It wasn't difficult."
Chu Jahyeok smiled thinly.
"That golden hair and those golden eyes — just as I thought. He's the illegitimate son of a wealthy family in Tibet."
"Illegitimate?"
"Yes. A mixed-blood brat born to a concubine they brought back as a slave from the Western Regions. Over there, being both mixed-blood and illegitimate meant persecution, so he came to the Central Plains."
"Good heavens..."
"Though they must have been quite fond of that concubine, since they even sent bodyguards along with the boy."
That explained everything. The moment Chu Jahyeok heard the story, he drove the wedge in.
"They're already playing bodyguard to a wastrel for money. A bigger purse would be more than enough, wouldn't it?"
"I see..."
Chu Jain murmured in quiet admiration.
"I guaranteed them at least double whatever Eldest Brother offers. And like any martial artist, they were hungry for techniques too. I promised to spare no expense finding them a rare secret manual."
Chu Jahyeok was inwardly quite pleased.
They were both beauties, no question.
Truly rare beauties. He'd visited every renowned pleasure house in Wuchang, Hubei, and even there, women of that caliber were few and far between. If they ever put on proper makeup, the title of Hubei's Greatest Beauty wouldn't be enough for either of them.
One a ripe, mature beauty. The other still carrying the freshness of a young girl.
How fine it would be to keep both flowers at his side as his personal guards. Chu Jahyeok's eyes gleamed with greed.
Women who'd switch masters for money. Undoing their sashes would be nothing at all. If he became merchant lord, they might even throw themselves at him first.
The Chuhyeon Merchant Group. One of Hubei's five great merchant groups — and thanks to Chu Jahon's accomplishments, it might well become the greatest in all of Hubei.
A man is his wealth. That's how it's always been.
No matter how strong a martial artist was, he'd seen it a hundred times — those same powerful fighters, broke and hiring themselves out to rich men. Even mid-sized sects, when their coffers ran dry, folded up their lofty martial pride. He'd seen that plenty of times too.
Heh heh heh. Not one, but two. Eldest Brother is practically wrapping up gifts for me.
Oblivious to those filthy desires, Chu Jain spoke with genuine admiration.
"That must have cost a fortune."
"A price like this is nothing. You need to become merchant lord, Brother."
"Little brother..."
Chu Jain clapped Chu Jahyeok on the shoulder. Chu Jahyeok could barely contain his inward sneer.
I'll spare you, Brother, out of what little affection I have left. Go tour some pleasant place. I'll make sure you have plenty of money.
Chu Jahyeok already had it all planned. He was the one who should be merchant lord. Chu Jain was just a temporary partner.
Better that I lead the merchant group than this fool of a brother.
Only then could the Chuhyeon Merchant Group ascend like a dragon. He casually turned his gaze.
"Warrior Heo."
"Yes, Young Master."
"The fighting seems to be dragging on. Instead of staying at my side, why don't you go handle it yourself?"
A fierce battle was raging outside even now. They had attacked the pavilion where Vice-Master Chu Jahon was staying, but the resistance was surprisingly fierce. If Warrior Heo — a man at the peak of First-class, on the verge of the Peak Realm — were sent in, that resistance would collapse in no time. Their Jeokjin was still laid up, after all.
Warrior Heo hesitated.
"But my duty is to guard you, Young Master. If someone comes after you while I'm gone..."
"That won't happen."
"You can't be so sure... eh?"
Warrior Heo had been about to shake his head. Instead, his eyes went wide. Chu Jahyeok said nothing. No — those wide, staring eyes. They were looking past him, filled with shock. Only then did Warrior Heo realize the voice had come from behind him. His hand flew to his sword hilt.
CRACK!
But the sword never left its sheath. A hand shot out, seized Warrior Heo's shoulder, and yanked. Bone made a grotesque sound as it popped free. Dislocated.
"See, if I come after him while you're still here, there's no problem at all."
"Y-you...!"
Chu Jahyeok gasped in horror. The figure wore nothing but a single ornate long robe. Water dripped from golden hair. Through the fluttering robe, bare skin flashed into view. Naked beneath that lavish garment — he'd clearly just come straight from the bath.
And then Warrior Heo, his shoulder hanging limp, clenched his teeth, drew his sword with his left hand, and lunged. Sun Wukong clicked his tongue and drove a fist into the man's face. The nose bone collapsed instantly. Teeth sprayed out in a shower. Bright red blood splattered. A martial artist on the verge of the Peak Realm crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.
Sun Wukong frowned.
"Aigoo. You little shits."
He clicked his tongue.
"You got blood on me. Huh?"
"......"
"You don't get what I'm saying?"
Sun Wukong let out a sigh of sheer exasperation. Then he shouted, voice thick with irritation.
"Now I have to wash again before I go to bed!"