The Next Operation
Every last man under the Second Young Master was grinding his way up the Valley of Sin.
"Move! Overwhelm them with numbers if you have to!"
They pushed through the raining boulders.
"Aaaaagh—!"
They waded through the storm of arrows.
"My leg—my leg…?!"
They even endured the iron hail of repeating crossbows.
And when those who had clawed their way upward finally reached the heights, what awaited them was the guerrilla warfare Old Lady Gwak had prepared.
It was as if they had stepped into a deep jungle swamp. The advancing throng was sucked under without resistance and swallowed whole.
Even after they committed black-path martial artists to silence the catapults, the middle reaches of the battle only grew more desperate for them.
"They're putting themselves through hell," someone muttered.
Yet amid the slaughter there were those who cared nothing for advance or occupation.
"Live long enough and you get to watch guerrilla warfare right in the middle of a city."
The one cackling, white hair flying loose, was the captain of the Fresh Blood Fleet—Sahae Hyungsal.
Before others he cultivated the reputation of a blood-mad lunatic. If that had been all he was, he would never have survived this long in the hell of the southern seas or the den of Sapaecheon.
"Captain."
He spun at the call, face brightening.
"Finished the identification?"
"Yes."
His lieutenant nodded with a murderous smile and pointed.
"There, there, and the upper floors of that large building."
Sahae Hyungsal, a master who had already crossed the wall, had no trouble locating the spots even in the dark.
"The ones waving flags."
"Correct. They appear to be signalmen—relaying the situation upward and carrying orders back down to the field."
"I see."
Sahae Hyungsal's mouth stretched into a long, hungry grin.
"So that's the secret to moving an entire army like a single body in this dog-shit terrain."
A long, heavy lump of metal was placed into his waiting hand—a fully loaded flintlock long gun.
Shoulder, aim, fire—all in a single breath.
Bang—!
The ear-splitting report of the firearm rolled across the valley.
"Direct hit!"
Far away, beyond the acrid black-powder smoke, one of Yeon So-hyeon's flag-bearing signalmen toppled from his perch.
"Good!"
Cheers rose from his men as Sahae Hyungsal casually tossed the empty gun behind him.
"Hup!"
His personal loader caught it with practiced ease. A freshly charged long gun settled into the captain's hands.
"Boys."
He raised the weapon high and roared with laughter.
"The hunt begins now."
The Fresh Blood Fleet had no interest in advancing or occupying. What they cared about was battle merit—and the rewards that came with it.
"Signalman Eight is down!"
"One and Three have gone silent!"
"Enemy snipers!"
The Sleeping Dragon of the South, Old Lady Gwak, clicked her tongue.
"Someone on their side is quick on the uptake."
With the signal network compromised, the finely tuned tactics they had been using would no longer hold.
"For the moment we can leave things to local judgment, but…"
"It won't last long."
Fireworks, signal arrows—plenty of substitutes existed. The problem was the loss of precision and subtlety.
"What are your orders?"
Old Lady Gwak decided at once.
"We've had our fun."
An ordinary strategist would have dragged the engagement out to pad their own glory. She had long since risen above such things.
"Send the signal."
Her gaze traveled to the dark-path forces still crawling stubbornly upward. Blood already ran in rivulets through the valley, yet even more enemies kept pouring in like a rising tide.
"Guerrilla operations are suspended for now. We move to the next operation."
Shock flickered across the faces of her staff officers.
"The next operation…?!"
Her decision was absolute.
"Signal the entire army."
Moments later, two violet fireworks bloomed high above the Valley of Sin.
Luoyang Sword Family—Agency Headquarters.
Director's office.
The massive safe in the director's office had been broken open. Inside it, First Young Master Yeon So-hyeon was examining documents.
Yet for some reason his usual swift reading pace had slowed.
"First Young Master."
A Special Task Force operative who had been standing guard at the entrance stepped inside and bowed deeply, every motion of perfect courtesy.
Gone was any trace of the contempt these men once reserved for the Swordless One. In its place rested something close to awe.
"A visitor has arrived from the Senate and requests an audience with the First Young Master."
"Admit them."
So-hyeon answered without even turning from the safe.
"At once, First Young Master."
The operative clasped his hands in formal salute toward So-hyeon's back, then withdrew with measured steps. For anyone who had taken part in the Agency purification operation that day, such a change in attitude was only natural.
"This is rather cold of you, First Young Master."
A voice that carried the weight of years.
"After ending your seclusion you never once showed your face, and only now—when you need our hands—do you call for us?"
Clink-clink.
The clear chime of ornaments hanging from a walking stick was a sound So-hyeon knew well.
"…Senate Chief. You came in person?"
When So-hyeon turned, his gaze toward the old woman was unexpectedly gentle.
"Hoho. Of course I did."
Was this truly the same Senate Chief who had once driven the Elder Council Chief away with a single chilling presence? Her manner now was almost warm.
"The one who must one day lead this family has asked the Senate for aid. How could this old woman simply sit still?"
So-hyeon had requested only the counsel of a few retired elders who had once worked in related fields. The Senate Chief herself had come instead.
"…I am deeply grateful that you have taken the field yourself. Yet—"
The smile on So-hyeon's face stiffened with concern.
"—if you personally take command of the Agency's reorganization, there will be no end of talk behind our backs."
With the Senate Chief rolling up her sleeves, the purge and reform would finish far faster than expected. Family law, however, forbade it outright.
The old woman remained unperturbed.
"Whether they bark behind our backs or yammer to our faces, barking dogs are not frightening."
She laughed lightly.
"Let them bark all they like."
"…The very existence of the Senate could be threatened, Senate Chief."
"The existence of the Senate?"
She shook her head as if the matter were trivial.
"That no longer concerns me, First Young Master."
"…Senate Chief."
So-hyeon's expression turned almost blank at the sheer boldness of the remark.
"First Young Master. What is the core function the Senate holds today?"
With that single question, So-hyeon understood everything she meant to say.
"…The Senate selects the supreme councilors who sit on the Supreme Operations Committee, and by doing so it has propped up the Sword Family during the Family Head's long absence."
"Exactly."
She took up the thread.
"But in the near future the Supreme Operations Committee itself will become unnecessary. Why, then, should we cling to the mere survival of the Senate?"
So-hyeon turned his face away, hiding his expression.
Her words meant she believed without the slightest doubt that he would become the Young Family Head—and, in time, the new Family Head.
"…You do not resent me for that long seclusion?"
After a long silence the question slipped out. The Senate Chief gave a bitter little smile.
"If you mean the matter of the Heavenly Killer Star, this old woman has heard the tales and knows of it, First Young Master."
Her sightless gaze turned toward the window. Beyond it, invisible yet unmistakable, rivers of blood were still flowing through the Valley of Sin.
Since the day So-hyeon had ended his seclusion, oceans of blood had already been spilled—and far more would follow. How much more, no one dared imagine.
"Fate, destiny… even at this age there is still so much in the world I do not understand."
Her gaze settled on So-hyeon's back.
"I will not presume to speak of things I do not know. However—"
Her eyes remained soft and warm.
"This old woman—no."
She corrected herself.
"Every elder of the Senate—"
She poured sincerity into each word.
"—welcomes with all our hearts the day the First Young Master ended his seclusion and returned to us."
The characters on the document blurred. So-hyeon's grip tightened until the paper creased. He stared up at the empty air for no reason at all.
Where did such endless goodwill and trust come from? And how was he supposed to repay it?
"Hoho."
The Senate Chief, eyes equally red, discreetly wiped the corners and changed the subject.
"Well then. Has the First Young Master's investigation borne fruit? Have any of the questions been answered?"
"…To a degree."
So-hyeon nodded and set down the sheaf of papers he had been studying—the most closely guarded documents from the deepest recesses of the Agency Director's great safe.
"There has been progress."
The Senate Chief's attention turned to the titles stamped with layer upon layer of classified seals.
Field Report on the Period Immediately Before and After the Family Head Assault Incident
Reconstruction of Events and Unresolved Questions Based on Testimony of Agents Present at the Assault Site
In-Depth Psychiatric Evaluation Reports on the Field Agents of That Day
"That is good to hear."
And that was all. The Senate Chief spoke no further on the matter. Until the First Young Master himself chose to raise it, even she dared not touch a subject so sensitive.
"And the Fourth Young Master?"
She redirected the conversation herself.
"Seeing how completely you are focused here, I trust you have prepared thoroughly. Still… are you not worried?"
"…Everyone keeps asking me that."
So-hyeon gave a short laugh. The Senate Chief shrugged.
"No matter how often people call him a genius, he is still only a boy, is he not?"
"Not at all."
It was not empty reassurance.
"I am not worried in the slightest."
"Even so—"
Whatever she meant to say was cut short by a thin whistle that rose from the distant sky outside the window.
Fweeeee—
Slender violet sparks shot high into the heavens and burst with soft reports.
"Signal fireworks?"
"Yes."
So-hyeon nodded.
"They have moved on to the next operation."
Not a trace of worry or anxiety showed on his face. He truly felt not the least concern for the Fourth Young Master or the Valley of Sin that had been entrusted to him.
In the history only So-hyeon remembered—the history before his regression—the Fourth Young Master had suffered crushing failure in business and never risen again. Yet during the extreme civil war that marked the Sword Family's period of destruction, the one who had made everyone tremble in fear was Yeon Bi and the men under his command.
So-hyeon's gaze rested calmly on the successive signal fireworks still climbing into the sky.
Valley of Sin.
"Signal confirmed."
"Final procedures underway."
"Wind direction and strength checked."
"Clear."
"Position confirmed."
"Clear."
"Friendly forces and civilians confirmed."
"Clear."
Their voices were nearly unintelligible, drowned by the hiss of labored breathing through masks. For that reason they accompanied every word with hand signals even at close range.
"Ahh… I always hate this part. It ruins the hair."
Dang Ye-rin—the Fourth Young Master's closest confidante and strategist—sighed as she accepted the object her subordinate held out.
"Final procedures confirmed complete."
"Understood."
The moment she pulled the poison-defense mask over her face, her own voice became just as muffled. Yet everyone present read her hand signal with perfect clarity.
"Commence operation."
She drew a circle in the air with one finger, then pointed down the valley.
"Begin the poison release."