Long Live
“Still, it really is a remarkable thing.”
Tang Gwi-ho spoke as he slowly walked forward.
Her posture could not have been more defenseless—perfect for an attack—yet the Emei Abbess could not move a muscle. She had already been completely neutralized.
“For so long that white-haired old poison ghost has been a thorn in our Tang Family’s side…”
True, Tang Gwi-ho was now the Vice Head of the Sichuan Tang Family, and the white-haired poisonous old ghost was merely the Grand Abbess of Emei. Yet long before he had even been born, she had already been a figure of notorious renown.
Across the vast lands of Sichuan, through all those years, almost no one could match her gift for weaving vicious schemes. At the same time her political instincts rivaled those of the high ministers of the imperial capital. And her martial skill had long since broken through the wall.
“And yet that same poisonous old ghost is caught this easily.”
He lifted a hand sheathed in specialized leather gloves and playfully tapped the kneeling Abbess’s wrinkled forehead.
“Twice, no less.”
The fight—if it could even be called a fight—had not lasted long. Victory in battle often hinged on preparation, and few families under heaven could match the Sichuan Tang Family for the depth and thoroughness of theirs.
“…J-just kill me.”
The words that left the Abbess’s mouth—one arm severed, one eyeball melted—would normally have been enough to fill Tang Gwi-ho with rich, abundant satisfaction. Yet he remained unmoved.
“A pity,” he said. “Whether you live or die is not within my authority.”
After all, the one who had captured the white-haired poisonous old ghost twice was not him, but the First Young Master, Yeon So-hyeon.
Was this what it felt like to be trapped in the Buddha’s palm? Yeon So-hyeon had cast a vast net and already won before she ever arrived. Once snared, even when escape had been possible she had walked straight into his trap of her own accord.
“…You bastard! You’ll regret leaving me alive!”
The hatred in her voice was thick enough to chill the blood, yet Tang Gwi-ho did not so much as snort. His shadows paid her no mind either. There was no need to concern themselves with a woman whose dantian was already dissolving from within.
“Unit Leader. The nuns have all been loaded.”
In the metal cage-carts, the nuns were bound in long lines and packed in exactly as ordered.
“Any dead?”
“None.”
They were valuable. At the very least they had to remain breathing long enough to testify regarding the attempted assassination of Daseonrang, face investigation for those charges, and be formally executed.
“Transport them along the prearranged route. People from Sichuan will already be on their way, so you should meet them somewhere in the middle.”
“And this one…?”
A shadow’s gaze flicked toward the Emei Abbess.
“Don’t concern yourself with her.”
A languid smile curved Tang Gwi-ho’s lips.
“The First Young Master entrusted her to me, so I will deliver her to him myself.”
The shadows bound the Abbess and sealed her mouth with a specially designed gag.
“Gaaaaah—!”
“Now, now, no need to be so frightened.”
Tang Gwi-ho offered a wicked little smile to the Abbess thrashing and howling like a beast.
“Surely you don’t think the First Young Master intends to eat you?”
It was a mocking joke from a man who knew nothing of Amcheonjonza’s true nature. Yet the truth, oddly enough, sometimes lay closer to the joke than one might expect.
The sky above was clear and cloudless, yet the streets near the Valley of Sin were a wreck.
Black smoke rose here and there. Shattered storefronts and streets in utter disarray made one question whether this could truly be the bustling district of Luoyang known as the Moon Palace.
The bodies had been hastily cleared away, but the dark crimson bloodstains still clinging to the paving stones laid bare everything that had happened the night before.
The aftershocks of the underworld of Luoyang rising almost in full force—looting, arson, murder. To list every loss would take forever; the street had been dealt a crushing blow.
“There he is!”
A clerk who had been glancing outside every so often shouted, and the shopkeeper who had been sweeping up the wreckage of his own store with his own hands flung the broom aside.
“Let’s go see, right now!”
Shopkeepers and clerks poured down the stairs in a single mass. Every door on the shop had long since been smashed, so there was no need to lock anything behind them.
“I see them!”
“They’re coming this way!”
The street was already thronged with residents who had spilled out of their homes. Most of them had lost their entire livelihood to the looting and destruction, and their faces were drawn with distress and grief. Yet somehow the mark of true despair was hard to find among them.
“Make way!”
At the head of the procession, a Luoyang Sword Family warrior astride a warhorse shouted in a ringing voice.
“Transport of the criminals!”
A stir ran through the gathered crowd.
“Don’t push! I said don’t push!”
Those trying desperately to get to the front tangled with those being forced back by the warriors’ control.
“Damn it! I can’t see a thing from here!”
But the moment the criminals themselves came into view, every one of them stopped and held their breath.
Stripped of their splendid silks, dressed instead in ragged white, they walked barefoot down the street bound in a long line. Overnight their faces seemed to have aged ten years; every head was bowed low.
“That one…?”
“That’s Elder Song, isn’t it? No doubt about it.”
Whispers rose from the crowd. These were elders of the Luoyang Sword Family, men famous throughout Luoyang, and the street was full of people who recognized them.
“Elder Hahou’s over there too.”
They were the elders of the Second Young Master’s faction who had carried out the previous night’s operation. Captured by War Department warriors at the Third Pier, they were now being transferred to the main house.
Some clenched their teeth in humiliation at hearing their names called. Others still shouted brazen nonsense.
“This is a frame-up! I was only in the city on outside business!”
And some, like the one-eyed Elder Hahou, simply walked on with calm faces.
“So those men…”
“They’re the ones who set the underworld loose and caused all this chaos?”
Even as they muttered, no one in the crowd dared raise their voice at them. Even bound and barefoot, these were still elders of the Sword Family. Between them and the common people stood an unbridgeable gulf of rank and power.
The deep, powerful underworld of Luoyang had squeezed enormous protection money from the shopkeepers of the pleasure district, and that money had flowed to their masters in the Second Young Master’s faction. To those shopkeepers, the Second Young Master’s elders had been beings from beyond the heavens.
But then—
“You fucking bastards…!”
Someone hurled a curse and a small stone with all their strength. The stone flew wildly off course and clattered to the ground, yet it was enough.
“Elders of the Sword Family, and look at you…!”
Another stone grazed one of the elders as it flew past.
“And you still dare call yourselves elders of the greatest family under heaven?!”
One stone-thrower became two; two became three. That much was easy. Three became ten, and ten became dozens—even easier.
“Damn you all!”
“Go to hell!”
The night’s chaos had left the ground littered with broken paving stones. Once the fire caught, men and women, young and old, everyone hurled stones at the elders without distinction.
Crack!
A stone struck Elder Hahou’s head, splitting the skin and drawing blood. He walked on with his eyes closed, enduring every blow.
“Guh…!”
But not everyone possessed Elder Hahou’s internal energy and superhuman body.
Crack—!
“Hiiik…!”
A stone thrown with real force smashed into an aged elder’s shoulder. He collapsed where he stood with a thin, deflating scream.
“…Tch.”
Warriors stepped forward with reluctant faces and began batting aside any stones that flew along truly dangerous paths. Criminals or not, they could not be allowed to die under a hail of rocks on the roadside before the main house had passed judgment.
“Why are you protecting them?!”
The one-sided suffering. The one-sided torment. The rage of victims who had been forced into silence by their own powerlessness finally began to erupt.
“You’re all the same pack of dogs in the end, aren’t you?!”
“Sword Family looks after its own, is that it?!”
“Then you should have dragged them away quietly where no one could see!”
“Are you mocking us because we’re nothing but powerless commoners?!”
A crowd is hard to set alight, but once the fire catches it spreads beyond all control.
“Defensive stance!”
The War Department warriors ground their teeth and gripped their sword hilts.
Yet the clash they feared never came.
“Hear me, people of Luoyang.”
The voice was low, yet it seemed to ring directly inside every head. The crowd froze as one.
“Our Luoyang Sword Family is neither shielding these criminals nor mocking any of you.”
A massive middle-aged man approached from the rear of the procession, a great sword strapped to his back.
“Sword Avalanche Yeom!”
“It’s Elder Yeom of the Sword Family…!”
No one in the crowd could fail to recognize the victorious general who had restored order after the previous night’s chaos.
Elder Yeom raised a hand still caked with dried blood toward those who knew him and continued.
“You will already have heard. Our First Young Master and the Supreme Operations Committee acknowledge their responsibility, and they have promised to provide every possible form of compensation and support without stinting!”
The First Young Master Yeon So-hyeon and the Supreme Operations Committee had moved with lightning speed. The moment the fighting ended they had dispatched people everywhere, posted notices, accepted responsibility, and pledged restitution. That was why the faces of those gathered here, however dark, were not filled with despair.
“I know that some among you have lost people close to you, and I know that no mere monetary compensation can heal such loss.”
Watching the crowd drop the stones from their hands one by one, Elder Yeom solemnly brought his palms together.
“I offer you my deepest regret.”
The hair-trigger tension of moments before vanished as if it had never existed. Elder Yeom’s presence was that effective.
“I will not ask you to trust the entire Sword Family at once. Nothing changes overnight. But—”
He lowered his joined hands and spoke with humble bearing yet a commanding voice.
“In the Sword Family as it stands today, there is without question someone you can trust.”
Elder Yeom met the eyes of the crowd and asked,
“Is that not so?”
At the question, a quiet change passed across the faces of the people.
From the rear ranks someone shot a hand into the air. Instead of a broken stone they raised a tightly clenched fist and shouted at the top of their lungs.
“The Sword Family has the First Young Master!”
At that cry the crowd understood.
On this street, in this pleasure district, there was no longer any place for the Second Young Master’s faction that had ruled through the underworld.
Even if, in a world where people live, shadows can never be entirely banished—at least from now on there would be no organizations free to wield absolute power as they pleased.
“Long live the First Young Master!”
No one could say who shouted first.
“Long live!”
“Long live!”
The cries of the crowd spread in every direction.
And for some reason, the heads of the Second Young Master’s elders bowed even lower than they had when the stones had fallen like rain.