Chapter 125
Chapter 125
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 125
Chapter Title: Blood Night Gang's Deployment
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Among the Five Great Clans of the world, the Zhuge Clan.
Shaolin, the North Star among the Nine Great Sects.
Enemies coveting his treasure.
Thus, preparations and countermeasures were essential.
Though it was late, the Moon Port Tower Lord immediately set off for somewhere.
His destination was a massive compound bearing a plaque that read "Blood Night Gang."
"Haha! What brings the renowned Moon Port Tower Lord here at this hour?"
"Blood Night Gang Leader. I have an earnest request."
Hangju was a hub of commerce counted among the foremost in all the Central Plains.
Accordingly, the number of sects based there easily surpassed a hundred, and the Blood Night Gang was one of the top ten among them—a colossal faction.
"A request? What plea could you have for a brute like me, who leads nothing but sword-for-hire fools and knows no other life? You're not thinking of entrusting Moon Port Tower's security to common black path thugs, are you?"
As in most places under heaven, Hangju too was a balance of black and white paths.
The Tower Lord had kept closer ties with white path figures until now.
But with Shaolin and Zhuge to contend against, he could no longer borrow the power of white path sects.
No, even most black path sects would hesitate to get involved.
That was why he had come to the Blood Night Gang Leader.
A man whose nature was not merely black but veering into outright evil—brutal and avaricious—the Blood Night Leader Gu Tae-rang would not back away.
Not if the price was right.
"I'll be direct."
The Tower Lord succinctly explained the day's events and proffered a prepared box.
It was filled to the brim with gold ingots—totaling a hundred nyang.
"This is the advance: a hundred nyang in gold. I promise future commissions to the Blood Night Gang as well. So, lend us your aid."
The Gang Leader, wearing an amused expression, scratched his chin with the tip of his blade.
"Moon Port Tower Lord. Aren't you one of the top rich men in Hangju?"
"......"
"This involves crossing not just Zhuge, but Shaolin too—and for a mere hundred nyang?"
"With the balance, it totals two hundred. And I vow to maintain close ties thereafter."
"Hmm."
Suddenly, the Gang Leader felt his mouth water.
The thick, coppery scent of money wafted pungently.
"I'll lend you the Blood Night Seven Blades. Five hundred nyang instead."
The Blood Night Seven Blades was the moniker for the seven peak-level experts renowned even within the Blood Night Gang.
"......There's no need to commit such overwhelming force. For now, retrieve that girl Wol-hyang from their clutches, and together we'll prepare for any future repercussions..."
The Gang Leader cut off the Tower Lord's words.
"But I want to send them."
Only then did the Tower Lord grasp the Gang Leader's true intent.
He was deliberately deploying excessive force to squeeze out more money.
A surge of anger flared, but so did relief.
This avaricious wolf, scenting money, would never withdraw, no matter what happened later.
If I can reclaim that girl Wol-hyang and bind her to my side forever... it's a profit.
The Tower Lord bowed his head once more in silence.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Sister!"
Zhuge Seol-ha rushed over like the wind and pried the silver dagger from the collapsed So Wol-hyang's hand before wrapping her in an embrace.
By then, dewdrop-like tears had welled up in her eyes, glistening.
Zhuge Seol-ha, who like So Wol-hyang had endured hellish days due to her innate talent despite not wanting it, shared that pain.
It was only natural for her to feel a bond of shared suffering with someone walking the same path of melody and rhythm, bearing a similar traumatic past.
"Sister. You did nothing wrong."
The tears of the two women—no, girls not yet even twenty—stained the floor.
"Do as senior brother says, sister. He'll handle everything. Definitely."
So Wol-hyang turned tear-soaked eyes toward Zhuge Seol-ha.
In response, Seol-ha continued.
"From childhood, senior brother has always found a way through and led us all. So this time too, he'll surely save you in a brilliant, dashing manner."
In Seol-ha's eyes floated the image of Yang-hui.
A rock scarred all over yet without sharp edges—round and smooth—above all, appearing utterly solid and steadfast.
"Young master. Why do you wish to help me?"
So Wol-hyang's voice trembled with heartrending desperation as she asked.
Betrayed by one she trusted. A past manipulated by greed.
Trusting anyone would terrify her now. She needed certainty.
"I told you, sis. I'm playing ronin. Helping because there's profit in it."
"For just one stanza of song?"
Yang-hui smiled faintly once more and gave the exact same answer as in his previous life.
"One stanza from So Wol-hyang, descendant of Su Xiaoxiao and Su Dongpo, hailed as Hangju's top courtesan at such a young age! A treasure worth ten thousand gold!"
In truth, there was another reason.
The very reason he had accepted her request in his past life, ignorant as he was.
"The righteousness I inherited from my father lies in rescue and compassion."
"You acted in righteousness through rescue, yet your compassion did not fade. How then could I stand idly by?"
Words his father had spoken while gazing at an abandoned beggar boy in a dark alley.
Rescue (救) is the intent to save.
Compassion (恤) means the pitiful.
"Why need a reason to rescue the pitiful, to help those in need? Right?"
The mood grew too solemn, so he jested to lighten it.
"Besides, a true man cannot stand by while a beauty is oppressed."
"......"
"So believe in me, sis."
So Wol-hyang merely sobbed quietly.
Yet the emotions in her flowing tears had shifted slightly from before.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Yang-hui's group took Wol-hyang to the Dongpo Inn and secured rooms.
It was a place familiar to her, and remote enough that no civilians would suffer in the coming events.
As Zhuge Seol-ha savored the exquisite Dongpo pork prepared by Chef So, she suddenly posed a question.
"Senior brother. So, what's the plan?"
"Hm? For what?"
Seol-ha's gaze flicked to So Wol-hyang and back.
Sister's matter. Shouldn't we move quickly?
Hearing the transmission, Yang-hui pondered briefly.
Hm. Should he tell her? Or not?
For So Wol-hyang's peace of mind at least, a brief explanation seemed necessary.
"We can't move first. The justification lies with the Tower Lord."
No matter what he had done in the past, the contract between So Wol-hyang and the Tower Lord was legitimate.
Vast wealth or not, the Tower Lord was a mere civilian, so they couldn't wield force arbitrarily.
"So we wait until he crosses the line."
He paused, recalling his past life's events.
The timing differed, but the outcome would likely be similar.
In that case...
Things just got easier.
"It'll happen soon anyway. The Tower Lord wants a swift resolution."
"Really? Let me know if there's anything to prepare."
"Hm. Gear up for a fight? Nah, no need for that either."
As Yang-hui calmly enjoyed his Dongpo pork...
Noise erupted outside, and Chef So burst in, crying out in terror.
"Y-Young master! The Moon Port Tower Lord is approaching with warriors!"
"Speak of the tiger and it appears. Let's go. A-du, you too."
He stepped out, accompanied by Zhuge Seol-ha and A-du.
Tower Lord plus about twenty warriors. Seven peaks, looks like.
Fierce-faced black path experts, all clad in crimson saber sashes at their waists. Younger-looking, but the same faces from his past life.
Even from back then, they were gathered here—none of them dying for another decade, apparently.
All the ones who died by my hand in the previous life are here.
"Looks like the Blood Night Seven Blades. No shame serving that old coot?"
The lead of the Seven Blades, Number One, curled his lips in a smirk.
"If it pays, I could suck a dog's cock."
"Oh? Here's a hundred nyang—give it a go. What a spectacle: seven peak experts slurping dog dick."
"Figurative speech, brat. Wanna die?"
"Who in the world wants to die that you'd ask such a stupid question?"
Unlike Yang-hui's nonchalant retort and A-du's blank, wide-eyed stare...
Zhuge Seol-ha tensed, shielding So Wol-hyang with her body.
With twenty foes including seven peaks, it was a natural reaction.
Senior brother. Isn't this a crisis?
It is.
They were outnumbered in both quality and quantity—a true crisis.
With just A-du, he could manage somehow, but protecting Seol-ha and Wol-hyang while fending off twenty? No confidence there.
But.
"Well, do it."
"Do what?"
"You have that one thing to handle. I want to see the Tower Lord's face twist before we fight, so get it over with."
All seven Blood Night Blades widened their eyes.
They grasped what Yang-hui meant.
"How'd you know?"
"Black path thugs all think alike."
"Hahaha! Guts backed by real cunning, eh?"
The flustered Tower Lord, anxious amid the unexpected turn, hurriedly intervened.
"Great heroes of the Blood Night Seven Blades, carry out the leader's command at once."
"Ah, right."
Number One drew a pouch from his bosom and held it out to the Tower Lord.
"Take it. Wol-hyang, was it? That's the price for that courtesan's body."
"What is this? The leader won't stand for it."
"It's the leader's order. He learned of the precious treasure and wants to hold it himself, cherish it personally. So sell her."
"......I have no intention of selling Wol-hyang."
Number One replied indifferently.
"Refuse, and your head rolls."
"......"
One key difference between black and white paths:
Unlike white, black freely wields force without justification.
Hence the name "black path."
This was what he'd waited for.
The moment Blood Night intervened, everything shifted.
From a white path martial artist plundering civilian wealth to a black-white confrontation—the leeway expanded vastly.
"Hey, old man. You idiot? What possessed you to bring in the black path?"
The Tower Lord's face drained of color at Yang-hui's mockery.
He finally realized what inviting a wolf meant.
"Stupid bastard, all greed no brains. With Shaolin and Zhuge members here, you couldn't seek other sects' help anyway."
That was why the Gang Leader went beyond mere commission—nursing greater ambitions.
He wouldn't have expected another as willing to cross lines as himself.
"Now, that courtesan Wol-hyang belongs to our Blood Night Gang. Here's the deal: kneel if you don't want to die."
"And if not?"
Number One grinned savagely.
"Then you die. We stepped in heedless of repercussions, but no need to leave loose ends."
A snort escaped involuntarily.
"You'd kill us surrendered anyway."
"Busted? Heh, sharp one."
The Blood Night Blades began forming an encirclement.
Swords drawn, crusted with old bloodstains.
Killing intent piled on—it was a spine-chilling sight.
"S-Senior brother. What do we do?"
To Seol-ha, there seemed no escape from this crisis.
Unless Yang-hui had secretly called for reinforcements.
"The others are too many, but I'll handle what I can first. Peaks are impossible, though."
Even optimized for crowds, sound arts had limits.
Especially against peaks—they neutralized it effortlessly.
A mere protective aura halved the power.
That was why few pursued sound arts.
"Yang-hui. Play with 'em?"
"Nah. Time for punishment."
"Then let's go! Sounds fun!"
Unlike Seol-ha, A-du beamed innocently and raised her pot-lid fists into guard.
Yang-hui tossed a word at her.
"Wait. Charge now and Wol-sis becomes hostage—big trouble."
Rampaging was fine, but if the client got taken? Disaster.
So.
So...
Grinning, Yang-hui raised his voice.
"You can come out now, Master!"
It was then.
Chiming!
A dense fog of melody blanketed everywhere—not mere sound for the ears, but vibrations felt by skin, by the whole body.
"Urk!"
"What the—?!"
"Gah! Cough!"
The beautiful tune forced every Blood Night warrior to their knees.
Simultaneously, a girl who appeared about fifteen slowly descended from the air.
The Sound Witch, touching ground, sighed and looked at Yang-hui.
"How did you know, young hero?"
Yang-hui merely grinned once more.