Darkness Beneath the Lamp
"But this Eldest Young Master has neither the intention nor the reason to accept your guidance, Hobop Wonju."
With that single stroke, Yeon So-hyeon crushed the conciliatory overture the Hobop Wonju had so carefully veiled in polite phrasing.
In an instant, the courtyard of the Hobop Court sank into dead silence.
Every person who had gathered to receive the Eldest Young Master closed their mouths and froze in place. Across that vast courtyard, not even the whisper of a sleeve could be heard.
Kang Ho, standing directly behind Yeon So-hyeon as his attendant, wanted nothing more than to flee the scene. The Hobop Wonju's face had gone utterly expressionless, a chill of pure cold radiating from it. Had those eyes been fixed on Kang Ho himself rather than on the Eldest Young Master before him, Kang Ho would not have lasted even a few seconds under that pressure.
Someone swallowed hard—a dry, audible gulp that seemed deafening in the hush.
"…Eldest Young Master."
It was the Hobop Wonju himself who broke the silence, his voice low.
"Did you not have business at this Hobop Court?"
His eyes, dark as black glass, shifted toward the Banker of the Sword House Bank. To save the Banker—a man already mired in political crisis—the cooperation of the Hobop Court was essential, was it not? The Hobop Wonju's words and manner were meant to drive that fact home once more.
"Indeed."
Surprisingly, Yeon So-hyeon conceded without resistance.
"Precisely so, is it not?"
At that easy answer, the Hobop Wonju's expression loosened for a moment—and in the very instant those around him dared to draw breath again, Yeon So-hyeon continued.
"But the business this Eldest Young Master has is with the Hobop Court—not with you, Hobop Wonju."
"…What?"
The Hobop Wonju's eyes flew wide. This time it was more than a glare—real pressure rolled off him. Kang Ho barely swallowed a scream. Only the generous folds of formal dress, worn for the sake of propriety, hid the trembling of his legs.
"It seems the Eldest Young Master does not understand…"
Veins stood out on the Hobop Wonju's forehead as he stared down at Yeon So-hyeon without so much as a blink, his eyes sharp and blue with fury.
"I, the Hobop Wonju, am the Hobop Court."
What towering arrogance. A steward playing the landlord. And yet—for those who had privatized the power of the Luoyang Sword House ever since the Clan Head's fall—it was an arrogant claim, but not an untrue one.
Now, in the silence, every gaze turned toward the Eldest Young Master, Yeon So-hyeon.
"Oh?"
But the answer came from an unexpected quarter.
"You dare raise your inner force before the Eldest Young Master of this House?"
The tone dismissed both the pressure the Hobop Wonju had personally generated and the silent weight of every Hobop Court man who had come out to receive them—as if none of it registered in the slightest.
"It's hot enough as it is. Looking to cool the courtyard with a little blood, are we?"
At a manner that treated the entire Hobop Court as an enemy worth picking a fight with, the hands of the Court's combat personnel drifted toward their swords.
"Heh. Fine by me. Today, let's play for real."
But the men reaching for their blades stopped dead the moment they saw the owner of that voice step forward.
"…Tal-myeong-gwi-geom."
Someone muttered the name. Tal-myeong-gwi-geom bared sharp teeth in a smile.
"Yeah. That's me."
And with those words, the swords on his back began to slide free of their scabbards—untouched by any hand.
Flying swords drawn by Qi alone — the Life-Taking Ghost Sword's signature art.
There was no one in the Luoyang Sword House who failed to recognize that technique—a feat all but synonymous with Tal-myeong-gwi-geom's name.
The Hobop Wonju's gaze snapped first to Tal-myeong-gwi-geom.
"Good, good. I heard the Hobop Court had plenty of usable fighters. Looks like I'll get a proper workout today!"
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom paid him no mind at all. If no one stopped him, a ghostly killing intent clung about him—the resolve of a man who meant to see blood before he was done.
Next, the Hobop Wonju looked to the Banker of the Sword House Bank. But reading a heart beneath the deep-layered wrinkles of a man tempered by countless trials was no easy thing. Finding no will to intervene in the Banker's calmly settled eyes, the Hobop Wonju abandoned the effort and turned instead to Yeon So-hyeon's attendants.
Not one of them. Not even the lowest maidservants. Far from uttering a single word of mediation, they each quietly edged a half-step forward—poised to draw steel at any moment.
In the end, the Hobop Wonju had no choice but to look, at last, upon the Eldest Young Master himself.
A soft snort of laughter.
He saw the blatant sneer that curled Yeon So-hyeon's lips the moment their eyes met.
…What is he playing at?
This was the same Eldest Young Master who had dragged a Banker short on time all the way here. The one who stood to lose was Yeon So-hyeon.
That is why I even offered my hand first…
And not only had the Eldest Young Master slapped that hand away—he was now openly condoning his subordinates' armed provocation.
[My lord.]
A close aide watching the situation sent a transmission from close range.
[Our Hobop Court's strength is more than sufficient—but to clash head-on with the Eldest Young Master like this would be madness.]
Their opponent was no longer the Eldest Young Master of old.
[All that would remain for our side is catastrophic political and material loss.]
[That much, I know.]
The problem was—
His gaze returned once more to Yeon So-hyeon. The smile had only deepened. What did that smile mean?
What is that bastard after?
But there was no longer any time left for him to deliberate.
What is he relying on?
There was no luxury left for such questions.
Damn it…!
He had no choice. He bowed his head first—toward the Eldest Young Master, Yeon So-hyeon.
"…I apologize for the discourtesy, Eldest Young Master."
He could feel the Hobop Court men surrounding them grinding their teeth. Of course they were furious. And yet, at the same time, he could sense the quiet relief that had settled over them as well.
"I am sorry."
But even as he bowed his head—
"Alright then…"
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom's swords paid no heed whatsoever.
"Let's do this."
At last they left their scabbards entirely, drawn free and clear.
In that moment of blank shock, the Hobop Court personnel stood stranded—unable to advance, unable to retreat—when a quiet voice cut through the courtyard.
"Enough."
Yeon So-hyeon's words rang low and clear. Only then did Tal-myeong-gwi-geom's swords slide back into their scabbards. The soft shick of steel seating home mixed with sighs of relief from every side.
"As you command."
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom answered shortly and stepped back. Yeon So-hyeon's gaze turned to the Hobop Wonju.
"I accept your apology. That being so—"
"However."
Before Yeon So-hyeon's words could finish, the Hobop Wonju raised both hands, palms joined.
"As it turns out, the reception staff inform me that we have run completely out of tea. To receive a guest under such circumstances would be a grave discourtesy."
A roundabout phrasing—but the meaning was unmistakable.
"Therefore, once proper preparations have been made, we shall receive you again at that time."
It was a clear order of expulsion. Whatever Yeon So-hyeon wanted, he would not even be given the chance to obtain it here.
"My apologies, Eldest Young Master."
Even as the words of apology left his mouth, the Hobop Wonju's gaze—tracing a smooth arc—flicked briefly toward the Banker of the Sword House Bank. It was a glance so short that most would never have caught it. But the Hobop Wonju clearly saw the Banker's eyes waver in that fleeting instant.
If you thought I would fold so easily, you miscalculated, Eldest Young Master.
With this, Yeon So-hyeon had wasted nothing but time and worn out his feet for nothing…
Or so, at least, the Hobop Wonju judged.
"Haha."
Yeon So-hyeon's short, clear laugh.
"No tea, you say. How truly unfortunate."
…What?
But to the Hobop Wonju's ears, that laughter grated worse than a demon's cackle.
Does the Eldest Young Master still have a card left?
Even though he could not begin to compare with Yeon So-hyeon, the Hobop Wonju's keen mind flashed with sudden insight at that leisurely composure.
Surely not…?!
"But did I not say so from the very beginning?"
Yeon So-hyeon continued, smooth and unhurried.
"This Eldest Young Master has no need of you."
And with that, his gaze drifted at ease toward one side of the courtyard. The Hobop Wonju, without thinking, turned his head to follow.
"I present myself before the Eldest Young Master."
A blunt voice. A man who had stood silently in the corner all this time stepped forward and bowed his head to Yeon So-hyeon.
"My subordinates have already prepared tea for the Eldest Young Master. Allow me to escort you."
The moment the Hobop Wonju recognized the man's face, his mouth fell open of its own accord.
"Yuk-bujang…!"
Hobop Yuk-bujang—the youngest among the division heads of the Hobop Court. He had taken on a number of duties of late, but he had never particularly distinguished himself, nor had he ever caused any real friction. And yet here, in this moment, he was openly defying the Hobop Wonju to his face.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
"Have you lost your mind?!"
The other division heads cried out in horror, but Yuk-bujang did not so much as glance their way.
"This way, if you please."
Far from reading the room, he stepped further forward and personally volunteered to guide the Eldest Young Master.
[Yuk-bujang.]
The Hobop Wonju's transmission stabbed into Yuk-bujang's ear.
[I trust you have fully prepared yourself for how I will take this.]
A warning. But Yuk-bujang, as if he had not heard the transmission at all, calmly guided Yeon So-hyeon and his party inward.
[…Come to think of it, my lord!]
As the Hobop Wonju stared after that retreating back with a gaze like frost, a transmission from his aide reached him.
[The investigation currently handling the Sword House Bank is under none other than the Hobop Sixth Division!]
And Yeon So-hyeon's business concerned nothing but the Sword House Bank. The Eldest Young Master had, with perfect precision—as if he had foreseen it all—persuaded exactly the man he needed: Yuk-bujang.
But when…?
The Hobop Wonju flung a transmission to his aides.
[Does the Hobop Sixth Division not already have a number of major cases on its hands besides the Sword House Bank?]
Yuk-bujang was overseeing the investigation and the full legal apparatus related to the construction site of the Wulong Assembly arena—a project pushed by the Third Young Master's faction. And that same Yuk-bujang was handling the Sword House Bank as well?
[Just how did this case end up under the Hobop Sixth Division as well…!]
Reaching the answer himself, the Hobop Wonju ground his teeth.
The Central Audit Department…!
The investigation into the Sword House Bank had unquestionably begun with the Central Audit Department. That same department, citing insufficient personnel, had requested investigative cooperation from the Hobop Sixth Division. And so, naturally, the Sixth Division had joined the Sword House Bank investigation—and because every stage of the inquiry had been reported up through the Hobop Sixth Division, the Hobop Wonju himself had never sensed a problem.
Damn it…!
Forgetting all dignity, he ground his teeth before he could stop himself. This was beyond having one's nose cut off with one's eyes open.
A restless murmur rose through the courtyard.
Here, before the eyes of all these Hobop Court personnel assembled to receive the Eldest Young Master—
The murmur grew.
—his own direct subordinate had stabbed him in the back, and the spectacle of it was laid bare for every last one of them to see.
"Hobop Wonju."
Cutting through that murmur, Yeon So-hyeon's voice carried clearly. Following Yuk-bujang's guidance, he had been moving inward—but now he stopped, turned, and spoke. The Hobop Court men parted, clearing the space between the Hobop Wonju and Yeon So-hyeon.
"If you wished to play master of the Hobop Court, you should have devoted yourself to the Hobop Court alone. Why go sniffing around this House's political games?"
The Hobop Wonju could see the mockery curling Yeon So-hyeon's lips with perfect clarity.
"That is why you cannot even keep your own people in hand—why you cannot even command them properly."
In the Hobop Wonju's ears, the sound of Yeon So-hyeon's receding tongue-click—tsk, tsk—and the restless murmuring of the men around him seemed as if they would never, ever cease.