Chapter 86
Chapter 86
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 86
Chapter Title: Ban Yonggwol
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Ban Yonggwol had lost his parents at a young age and lived on the streets until he was taken in by the sect leader of the Seongnim Sect, a mid-tier faction in Chengdu. Thanks to that, he had trained in martial arts from childhood and managed to step into the beginner ranks of second-rate at a fairly young age.
It wasn't his unfortunate childhood that twisted his personality, though. Ban Yonggwol simply felt a subtle thrill and pride every time he crushed someone beneath him.
Like most mid-tier sects, the Seongnim Sect wasn't aligned with either the orthodox or unorthodox factions.
It wasn't because the Seongnim Sect Leader held some unbiased philosophy. No one simply cared about the opinions of a mid-tier sect leader.
Dang Mujin quietly scaled the wall of the Seongnim Sect and slipped inside.
He had passed by the front of the Seongnim Sect hundreds or thousands of times. But this was his first time entering past the wall.
"Where could Ban Yonggwol be?"
Dang Mujin focused his mind and slowly wandered the grounds, probing for signs of life.
There weren't many presences to be felt. At most, three or four people.
Just as he had expected. In a small sect like the Seongnim Sect, disciples usually lived in their own homes nearby while training.
Suddenly, a small question bubbled up in Dang Mujin's mind.
"Why am I looking for Ban Yonggwol? Didn't we agree to talk later when we met earlier?"
But soon after, a strange conviction gripped him.
There's something off about Ban Yonggwol. Yeah. Definitely something. He had to find him right now.
Dang Mujin moved to search for Ban Yonggwol. He doubted he'd be in the large central building, so he checked the small structures around the edges first.
His guess was spot on, and he immediately sensed a familiar presence. It was Ban Yonggwol.
Dang Mujin cautiously flung open the door. There lay Ban Yonggwol.
Ban Yonggwol hadn't fallen into a deep sleep yet and was tossing and turning when he spotted Dang Mujin. He gasped in shock at the sudden shadowy figure.
"You, who—!"
"Quiet."
Dang Mujin's left hand clamped over Ban Yonggwol's mouth, while his right hand struck an acupoint. Ban Yonggwol's mouth flapped uselessly, but no sound came out.
Ban Yonggwol twisted in panic. An elder like Yi Chung might have gone for the throat or chest acupoints, but completely immobilizing someone with acupoints was tricky—especially when they were thrashing about.
Dang Mujin slapped Ban Yonggwol's cheek hard a couple of times, then drew his sword halfway from its sheath at his waist. The blade gleamed bluish in the moonlight.
"Don't want a hole in you, do you? Better stay still."
Ban Yonggwol trembled violently.
Dang Mujin pulled out a thick rope and bound Ban Yonggwol's hands and feet, then scanned the room. In one corner sat a pitch-black mask.
Seeing the mask sent a chill through his blood. The image of the elder, dead with a dagger embedded in his forehead, flashed in his mind.
With an inexplicable certainty, Dang Mujin shoved the black mask into Ban Yonggwol's robes.
"Vicious bastard. Thought I wouldn't notice you pretending to have nothing to do with Salmak?"
Dang Mujin hoisted the squirming Ban Yonggwol over his shoulder and headed out. Ban Yonggwol was fairly burly, so the weight pressed heavily on his shoulder and waist.
For some reason, he felt good. Like a hunter proudly displaying his catch.
Just as Dang Mujin was about to scale the wall again, a middle-aged man with thin whiskers appeared and stopped him. It was the Seongnim Sect Leader.
"You there. Who are you? And who's the one on your shoulder?"
Dang Mujin was a polite young man who knew how to respect his elders, so he gently set Ban Yonggwol down and offered a light fist salute.
"Long time no see, Sect Leader. I'm Dang Mujin of the Dang Clinic. This guy's Ban Yonggwol."
The Seongnim Sect Leader was a bit flustered. He hadn't expected a response, let alone such a polite and courteous one.
The mismatch between Dang Mujin's suspicious actions and his calm voice created a strong sense of dissonance.
"Dang Mujin of the Dang Clinic? What's this about? Where are you taking Ban Yonggwol?"
"I have some questions for him."
"What could you possibly need to ask that you'd subdue him in the dead of night and sneak away?"
"I can't go into details, but it has to do with this."
Dang Mujin pulled the mask from Ban Yonggwol's robes.
The Seongnim Sect Leader's heart skipped a beat. He'd long known Ban Yonggwol ran with a gang and caused trouble. But since he'd raised the boy like his own son from childhood, he'd never been able to scold him harshly.
"I know the kid runs with a crew and stirs up problems. I'll handle him strictly, so could you look the other way this once?"
"If it were just that, I wouldn't have come all this way. Ban Yonggwol's committed far worse crimes. Today, I'm making him pay for what he's done—taking countless lives."
The Seongnim Sect Leader flinched. Had Ban Yonggwol taken lives? Not one or two, but countless?
Ban Yonggwol writhed madly on the ground, staring up at the Sect Leader.
With his jaw acupoint sealed, no sound escaped Ban Yonggwol's mouth. But the Sect Leader, having watched him grow up, could read the meaning from his expression and movements alone. Ban Yonggwol was genuinely wronged.
Moreover, something was off about Dang Mujin right now. He wasn't the soft-hearted youth from the Dang Clinic that the Sect Leader remembered. His words seemed rational at first glance, but they were clearly twisted and insane somewhere deep down.
"From where I'm standing, if I let you go now, Ban Yonggwol won't come back in one piece. Am I wrong?"
The Seongnim Sect Leader spread his legs, lowered his stance, and stabilized his lower body.
The preparatory stance for the Seongnim Fist—the signature technique he'd honed his whole life, the one that earned him the title of first-rate warrior.
Dang Mujin spoke awkwardly.
"I don't want to fight you, Sect Leader."
"Then leave Ban Yonggwol and go. I'll deal with him harshly... No, come back at sunrise tomorrow. I'll punish him right in front of you."
"I can't do that. You'd just try to keep him alive."
The statement treated killing Ban Yonggwol as a given.
The Seongnim Sect Leader hardened his resolve. Ban Yonggwol might be stubborn and worthless, but he was like a son to him—he wouldn't let him die. The Sect Leader's eyes narrowed, his stance growing even more solid.
It clearly signaled his intent to fight.
Instead of drawing his sword, Dang Mujin mirrored the Sect Leader by taking a fist technique preparatory stance.
Unlike his cold demeanor toward Ban Yonggwol, there wasn't even a hint of killing intent in the way Dang Mujin regarded the Sect Leader.
"Strange."
The Seongnim Sect Leader sensed that the aura emanating from Dang Mujin was no joke. He couldn't gauge the exact level, but it was clear this wouldn't be an easy fight.
Ban Yonggwol, sprawled on the ground, twisted his body in hopes of the Sect Leader's victory.
"Hah!"
The Seongnim Sect Leader charged at Dang Mujin. Fist techniques benefited from taking the initiative, even if not as much as sword arts.
His fist flew toward the space between Dang Mujin's shoulder and chest. The target: the Heavenly Pivot acupoint. An attack meant to subdue, not kill.
But Dang Mujin's left hand flowed smoothly, deflecting the fist. His right hand followed in. The targets: the Sect Leader's abdomen, around the Great Granary and Gate Passage acupoints. And it wasn't even a fist—it was an open palm.
Just like the Sect Leader, Dang Mujin clearly had no intent to kill.
The Sect Leader shoved Dang Mujin's forearm aside, but Dang Mujin had anticipated it and unleashed the second form. When the Sect Leader blocked that too, the momentum of Dang Mujin's technique naturally flowed into the third form.
The Sect Leader realized.
"This isn't an exchange."
It might look like they were trading forms, but their roles were distinctly divided.
Dang Mujin attacked, and the Sect Leader struggled to defend. Amid the endless barrage of Dang Mujin's fists and palms, the Sect Leader found no way to counter.
It reminded him of the Shaolin fist techniques he'd glimpsed from afar in his youth. Each form solid, yet emphasizing flow in an unceasing linked chain.
Even setting aside effort and experience, the sheer quality of the fist technique was worlds apart.
And that wasn't all. With every clash of limbs, the Sect Leader felt Dang Mujin's internal energy seep in. His head and gut churned like they'd been shaken up. He was sorely outmatched in raw internal energy too.
"How...?"
The exchange didn't last long. The Sect Leader took a palm strike to the abdomen, flew back, and vomited up his stomach contents.
"Urk, blegh!"
As he turned his head and retched, his eyes met Ban Yonggwol's. Despair filled Ban Yonggwol's face.
When the Sect Leader's vomiting finally stopped, Dang Mujin approached. His expression was that of the gentle youth from the Dang Clinic, not an enraged warrior.
"I'm sorry. Sleep it off till morning. You'll wake up by lunchtime at the latest."
Dang Mujin covered the Sect Leader's mouth with his right hand, then brought his left palm to the man's nose.
A faint medicinal aura—or was it poison?—flowed from his palm.
The Sect Leader's body grew limp, his mind foggy. Soon, he slumped unconscious.
Dang Mujin carefully carried the fainted Sect Leader to what seemed like his bedroom and laid him down. He even adjusted the pillow so his neck and shoulders wouldn't ache when he woke.
When Dang Mujin stepped back outside, he hoisted Ban Yonggwol again to climb the wall—but then realized he had nowhere to take him.
He couldn't bring him to the clinic, and intruding into someone else's home would be a hassle. Waking sleeping people would just cause trouble.
His gaze fell on the small building from which he'd dragged Ban Yonggwol. With the Sect Leader already subdued, there was no need to leave the grounds.
Dang Mujin tossed Ban Yonggwol into the room and shut the door.
Looking at him sprawled on the floor, a raw urge welled up to just kill him without further ado.
But at the same time, a fierce aversion surged.
"Is it okay to kill someone so lightly? He's definitely a Salmak assassin, but I don't have hard proof."
That wasn't rational judgment—it was Dang Mujin's inherent gentleness, the life attitude ingrained from over twenty years at the clinic.
After a moment's hesitation, he reached a slightly twisted conclusion unlike his usual self.
"I'll get a confession that he's with Salmak, then kill him."
Dang Mujin released Ban Yonggwol's jaw acupoint, drew his sword, and stabbed it into the center of the floor. A form of intimidation. A declaration: make noise, and you die.
He squatted in front of Ban Yonggwol.
"Talk."
"W-what do you want me to say!"
Ban Yonggwol's voice, always so brash, trembled pathetically.
But to Dang Mujin, it felt fake, like a deception.
"There must be a reason you attacked me."
"...It was a stupid reason. Sorry!"
"You know I didn't come here for that. Explain properly."
Dang Mujin questioned him calmly, without even a simple poke or prod.
If anything, that made Ban Yonggwol even more terrified. It wasn't anger mixed with reason—they coexisted in their separate domains. It seemed ideal at first, but in reality, it was profoundly inhuman.
Ban Yonggwol spilled his story incoherently. Honestly, and fast.
"I just... didn't like you. I know people treat me like dog shit. Not out of fear, but disgust—they avoid me. But you're different. People come to you for help. I was jealous. And it bugged me that you were trying to climb above me. I know it's dumb. Forgive me..."
Ban Yonggwol forgot his shame and poured out his guts.
But that wasn't the "confession" Dang Mujin wanted. He tilted his head slightly.
"That's not it. Someone wanted me dead. Someone told you to kill Dang Mujin and everyone around him. Who gave the order?"
"Order? There was none! I did it 'cause I'm an idiot!"
"Of course. Your kind always keep their mouths shut until a blade's in their throat."
"What are you talking about? I don't know anything!"
"I'll jog your memory."
Dang Mujin grinned. In his eyes, Ban Yonggwol saw a quiet blaze of rage, hatred, and madness swirling.
The sword blade glowing blue in the floor was scary, but those eyes were worse. Unthinkingly, Ban Yonggwol looked down, avoiding Dang Mujin's gaze.
"That guy's not right in the head. He's insane. Completely lost it..."
Then, Dang Mujin gently stroked the back of Ban Yonggwol's head.
"Yonggwol. Far away in Henan, there's a place called Jeyuan. And there's a clan there called the Jeyuan Baek family."
"Uh, y-yeah. Jeyuan Baek Clan. Right."
An out-of-nowhere story came from Dang Mujin's mouth.
Ban Yonggwol chimed in anyway, not knowing why it came up. Maybe it'd calm him a bit.
"The clan head was Baek Chaseo. A terribly ugly, narrow-minded guy, but he had some guts. Still, it took less than half an incense stick for him to spill everything he knew, and a full one for him to beg for death."
Even the thought of chiming in vanished. Ban Yonggwol's jaw chattered, his teeth clacking, his mind going blank.
"Yonggwol. I won't lie about sparing you. But if you don't come clean, you won't even get to die."
Ban Yonggwol gasped raggedly. Dang Mujin was about to do something.
How should he answer to escape this?
But before he could think of a solution, Ban Yonggwol felt a strange sensation. Dang Mujin hadn't moved a finger, yet sharp pain stabbed his chest.
It wasn't an illusion. Within a few breaths, the agony spread through his whole body—like tiny blades shoved inside him, then shaken violently.
"Aaagh—!"
Ban Yonggwol knew instinctively. If he meant to spare him, he wouldn't inflict this. No human could endure it.
In that moment, Ban Yonggwol made the wisest, coldest judgment of his life.
His limbs bound, he desperately twisted his body, swinging his neck toward the sword in the floor.
But Dang Mujin was faster. He yanked the sword out and sheathed it.
"Kill me!"
"It's just starting. No whining. Besides, I said you can't die yet. Signal when you want to confess about your backer."
Dang Mujin's hand approached Ban Yonggwol. Clearly to reseal the jaw acupoint.
Ban Yonggwol twisted desperately to evade it.
"Who! Who do I say? Please!"
"No. I don't need a false confession."
Even as the pain wracked him fully, Ban Yonggwol desperately racked his brain. What answer did Dang Mujin want? But there were too few clues.
Writhing in agony, he spat out every name that came to mind.
"Hu Wan-cheong! Du Ja-chung! Im Yeon-gwang! Seongnim Sect Leader! Qingcheng Sect, Qingcheng warriors! Emei nuns! Aaagh, aaagh! Won Pyeong! Dan Seol-yeong! Dang Jesun! Wunyang! You bastard, just kill me! Aaagh!"
"Don't just blurt them out. Think it over and tell the truth."
As if thinking it over and telling the truth made any sense.
But oblivious to how strange his words sounded, Dang Mujin struck Ban Yonggwol's jaw acupoint. Ban Yonggwol needed time to be honest.
How much time passed? After Ban Yonggwol fainted and woke several times, a voice came from outside.
"You vile fiend who attacked the Seongnim Sect—come out and state your name at once!"
A low but piercing voice that rang clear.
Dang Mujin opened the door and stepped into the Seongnim Sect courtyard.
Three people stood there: Huang Lingzi, branch leader of the Qingcheng Chengdu Branch; Jin Song, chief instructor of the branch; and a Seongnim Sect disciple who must have fetched them.
The four men's bewildered gazes intertwined.