Welcome to Banwigul
“……Situation? What kind of situation?”
Ma Gwan-wol raised his eyes as if deep in thought.
In that instant—
“Ah.”
Slap!
Gwak Yeon’s head snapped to the side.
“Is it this kind of situation?”
The hand had moved too fast for an ordinary man to follow. Even without loading it with inner force, the blow packed enough power to burst the inside of his cheek.
“……Ptoo.”
Still turned away, Gwak Yeon spat blood. His heart hammered in his chest.
Thump!
He liked violence.
The moment the knot of resentment in his heart burst open and he could unleash every skill he had honed without restraint—that strange pleasure and release filled him with joy.
But he did not unbar that violence whenever he pleased.
Through the events of his previous life he had forged a principle of his own.
He endured the fire that built up while dealing with the good and the weak, then unleashed it upon the strong and the scum—
That standard had carried over from his past life.
He had kept it so long that abandoning it now would feel like denying every year he had lived. It had become one with his existence.
And so, as the justification for violence grew more complete by the moment, Gwak Yeon could no longer hold back and burst out laughing.
Heh heh heh—
Ma Gwan-wol let out a hollow chuckle and muttered,
“What? You’re laughing? Our young master actually likes this sort of—”
“Let me ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“How many people have you killed?”
Barely suppressing a laugh that threatened to explode again, Gwak Yeon continued the questions that would complete his justification.
“Leave out the martial artists who fight with life and death on the line. Even if they get assassinated, people in this world have already made their peace with that. Count mainly the common folk.”
“……What?”
“I want to hear straight from your mouth what kind of black-path outfit the Honcheon Sect really is.”
There were many kinds of black-path groups.
All of them were martial artists who operated outside the law without a second thought, yet each claimed its own territory.
Some ran gambling dens or peddled illegal drugs. Others bribed officials and dived into Hangzhou’s nightlife. From petty alleyway tolls to the big money of dogfighting pits and auction-house rigging, countless factions carved out their domains.
Blade fights were common enough.
But even here there were standards.
Was it a territorial scrap that broke out while they were simply trying to make a living among themselves? A clash born of grudges between martial artists? Or something that involved slaughtering innocent civilians?
“You’re not some assassination gate that only takes contracts on martial artists, are you?”
Plenty of black-path groups targeted only martial artists.
They might cut down every fighter they met to raise their own skill, live off assassination contracts, or build notoriety through mass ambushes—yet they still knew how to keep the face and rules of the jianghu.
Even in this world, black-path outfits whose entire purpose was to sell and massacre commoners were not that common.
“What a load of bullshit. Does a blade have eyes? Swing it long enough and every kind of bastard ends up on the ground.”
“A blade doesn’t have eyes, no. But you do.”
A black-path man who simply didn’t care when civilians got caught in his swings was one thing. A black-path man who cheerfully drew steel the moment he saw a civilian was something else entirely. Their natures were quite different.
And toward those who killed civilians—people who had nothing to do with the rules of the jianghu—just to turn a profit, Gwak Yeon felt little guilt.
Slap!
This time Gwak Yeon’s head snapped the other way.
“……Ptoo.”
“You’ve been awfully casual with your speech from the start.”
Killing intent began to seep into Ma Gwan-wol’s smile.
He looked at Gwak Yeon, whose split lip was dripping blood, and opened his mouth.
“I still use honorifics even with a milk-stinking brat like you.”
“So how many did you kill? Twenty? Thirty?”
“Ha.”
“I have some memories of your lot, but I didn’t experience them myself. I want to hear it from your own mouth.”
“What the hell are you talking about now?”
At Ma Gwan-wol’s momentary blank look, Gwak Yeon pressed on.
“The Honcheon Sect. You keep permanent men in gambling dens and run loan-sharking, but that’s not your main business. You sneak into the homes of retired courtesans and musicians who have no family left, wave blades around, and rob them of every coin they’ve saved. Anyone who resists, you kill them all. That money becomes the seed capital for your loan-sharking. Am I right?”
“This kind of attention is a first. I’m almost embarrassed.”
“And when you find a soft shop that isn’t tied to any other sect or family, you force protection money out of them. If they get on your nerves, you kill them and put your own people in charge. I’ve heard the number of commoners you’ve killed that way has already passed twenty. Is that right too?”
“Ah, that part’s wrong.”
Ma Gwan-wol wore a playful smile and held up four fingers.
“Once I kill that old man today, it’ll be an even forty.”
“Ugh!”
Gwak Yeon glanced at the shopkeeper trembling on the floor and muttered,
“Why the owner?”
“You’re about to meet a nasty end. If word of this gets out, it’ll be a bit of a hassle.”
“You worry about everything, don’t you.”
“If you’re staying calm because you trust your family name, you’re mistaken. We’re not the same as last time.”
“That’s a relief.”
At last Gwak Yeon drained his water cup and slowly rose to his feet.
“If you held back just because you were scared of my family, I’d feel dirty about it too.”
“Are you drunk right now, or have you gone mad?”
“One last question.”
“What?”
“Around here—is there a place where you can kill someone and bury them without anyone finding out?”
Ma Gwan-wol’s eyes widened for a moment, then he burst out laughing.
“Pu—puhahahahaha!”
The Honcheon Sect thugs laughed along with him.
They rolled on the floor, tears streaming, but Gwak Yeon paid them no mind.
He pulled a generous handful of silver from his pouch and held it out to the deathly pale shopkeeper.
“Owner, this is for the water.”
“W-wait—”
“I’ll be back soon, but if these ones come back through that door instead, wake this fellow up. He’s a skilled man from the Seoho Gwak Family’s Biryongdang, so you needn’t worry…… but please, don’t wake him before someone returns.”
“Am I dreaming right now?”
Ma Gwan-wol wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes after laughing so hard and gestured to his men.
“Yeah, I know a place where you can bury a body and never get caught. We’re heading out now.”
And so, leaving Cheon Gang snoring obliviously and the shopkeeper at a complete loss, Gwak Yeon followed the Honcheon Sect outside.
Ding-a-ling.
The hour was nearly dawn.
The outskirts of the pleasure district.
Step, step, step, step……
They wound through the alleys between long-collapsed pavilions, heading deeper into the dark underbelly of the city. The path looked all too familiar.
“Like I said earlier.”
Perhaps he wanted to see Gwak Yeon thrash in panic at his words.
“If you’re doing this because you trust your family name, you can still change your mind. We’ve had our fun here. Heading up to Beijing wouldn’t matter one bit.”
Surrounded by black-path underlings, Gwak Yeon walked on while Ma Gwan-wol, leader of the Honcheon Sect, kept glancing back with an expectant face.
“And as it happens, three days ago we brought in one crazy monster of a bastard. Hey—is he still around?”
“Jang Po? He was making such a racket about being hungry earlier that we took him outside.”
“That lunatic’s possessed by a glutton spirit.”
“Heh, but he fights well, doesn’t he? Wouldn’t it be a sight if that bastard went up against Gwak Seo-ryong?”
“Gwak Seo-ryong is Gwak Seo-ryong. You think he’d stand a chance?”
“Still, if we throw him in, he’d buy us enough time to run, right?”
“Yeah, that much he could manage.”
“Then…… heh heh heh, no problem if we just cripple this kid today, right?”
“You’ll make the baby cry. Keep it down.”
“Heh, sorry. Got a little too excited.”
The conversation was clearly meant for Gwak Yeon’s ears—the sound of men itching to watch a young master from a great family get broken.
The Honcheon Sect thugs even hummed as they walked.
They reached a wide empty lot between half-ruined pavilions where no living soul remained.
“Welcome.”
Ma Gwan-wol turned around.
Whoosh!
Someone lit torches, and the surroundings sprang into view.
“You’ve arrived at Banwigul.”
In the broad space formed by half-collapsed multi-story pavilions lay rotting tools, discarded coffins, and smashed carriages. Even the ground, littered with cracked pillars, was uneven and full of stones.
“We dispose of bodies here from time to time.”
“How?”
“See over there? A river runs right behind. Wrap them in those sacks piled in the crates, tie them with that rope, hang a rock on them, and drop them in. Done.”
“What if the bindings come loose?”
“It’s deep and the current’s fast. They’ll be carried far away before they ever float up.”
“Any chance of being found at the river mouth?”
“This one heads out to sea. You’ll never find them.”
“Ah.”
Ma Gwan-wol tilted his head.
Even after he had carefully explained why Gwak Yeon’s family would never recover his corpse, the young man surveyed the place as calmly as if he were touring an inn.
What the hell?
Rumor said the third son had gone easy on him in a spar and that had inflated his confidence…… but had he completely lost his mind—
That was when it came.
A laugh that made the hair on the back of the neck stand up.
Heh heh heh heh heh—
Gwak Yeon’s shoulders shook with laughter.
At that eerie atmosphere, every Honcheon Sect man felt a chill.
“……Perfect. Just perfect.”
Something seemed to glitter near his face—
“Guhk!”
The throat of the Honcheon Sect thug standing beside him was pierced clean through.
The fight erupted in an instant.
Cursing, the Honcheon Sect men drew their weapons.
“Crazy bastard!”
“Shit!”
“Kill him!”
Blades poured in from every direction.
With a single leap Gwak Yeon avoided them all, then quickly scanned the enemies looking up at him.
“One, two…… no.”
He tilted his head at the odd words, then stomped on one man’s head as he dropped and launched himself forward.
“Gyaaaaah!”
“My eye! My eeeeeye!”
He spun hard, kicked another man’s head, then stabbed the face of the one opposite.
Thud.
And so began the indiscriminate slaughter.
He leisurely dodged the black-path men’s desperate attacks while stabbing and slashing, leaping all over Banwigul.
“That way! Over there!”
“Uwaaah!”
“Hit him already!”
Even the rain of blades and the hidden weapons flying from every side left only shallow scratches; none could deal Gwak Yeon a fatal wound.
“Out of the way, you idiots!”
Ma Gwan-wol grabbed the greatsword on his back and prepared to leap—then suddenly felt something strange.
……What is that?
In the middle of the unexpected bloodbath, something glittered.
Sparkle…… sparkle……
Was it a blade edge catching the moonlight? A sword tip reflecting torchlight? Or sparks flying from a swung torch?
Maybe he was imagining it.
“One, two, three…… damn.”
That bastard had been counting from the start.
The moment Ma Gwan-wol thought he saw something near him, he shook off the distraction, swung his greatsword in a heavy arc, and charged in.
“Surround him from behind!”
“Whoa.”
Whoosh—!
The massive greatsword came down.
Even though it had come from a blind spot, Gwak Yeon twisted his upper body and avoided it.
“One, two, three, fo—ah, damn it!”
“You little—guh!”
In that instant Gwak Yeon spun and drove his rear foot into Ma Gwan-wol’s gut. Using the rotational force, he immediately swung his blade at the man’s shoulder.
Tap!
Ma Gwan-wol leapt back, opening the distance.
Even in pain he was still a sect leader; he barely slipped past Gwak Yeon’s sword—
“……Kh?!”
His shoulder had been cut.
The moment of shock lasted only a breath.
At once the man’s left shoulder moved and the dagger already in his left hand shot forward.
“Oh, nice dodge.”
Gwak Yeon twisted his torso again, thinking he had avoided it—
“Hup!”
Something grazed his side.
A hot sensation. In that flash Ma Gwan-wol saw something.
The shadow glimpsed in an instant, combined with every experience he had ever had, raced through his mind.
“……!”
His face went deathly pale and he screamed,
“S-sorcery!”
“Ah, damn.”
“Sorcery! It’s sorcery! Throw everything you’re holding, you bastards!”
“Already figured it out, huh.”
“I can’t hear you! Just throw it all and rush him at once!”
Gwak Yeon clicked his tongue.
Looking at Ma Gwan-wol bellowing in terror, he thought,
Caught after only two times. I’ll put this on hold.
That was right.
When he had swung the sword at Ma Gwan-wol and when the man had thrown the dagger, both times Gwak Yeon had fired the bloodline ability half a beat late.
Right under the blade edge.
To dull eyes it would have looked like nothing more than a faint ripple of shadow.
But—
I can’t use this against the Jusan Baek Family.
If even a man of this level could spot it after two tries, true experts would notice immediately.
Fine.
This experiment ends here.
Next—
“Die!”
“M-monster bastard!”
“Kraaaah!”
“Take this and die!”
“All of you! Shoot everything!”
It was a solid strategy.
When you meet an incomprehensible monster, you throw whatever you can from a distance first so you can read how it responds.
But…… even if they figure it out, what difference does it make?
In that moment more than a dozen hidden weapons and daggers flew from every direction.
Yet the blood that had been flowing from the scratches on Gwak Yeon’s arms and legs suddenly took shape—
Swish-swish-swish!
Swish-swish-swish!
Swish-swish-swish!
Every flying weapon was knocked out of the air and clattered to the ground.
Daggers and short blades rang as they hit the dirt.
“……!”
“……!”
“……!”
“……!”
Shock.
Even that word was not enough for the expressions carved onto the Honcheon Sect men’s faces.
“Those faces are something else.”
With that single remark he moved like lightning, firing blood threads at the still-dazed men.
Thud, thud, thud.
Bodies riddled through various parts collapsed to the ground, and the fight was over.
“Gyaaaaaah!”
“Great heeeero!”
“N-nooo!”
“P-please spare us!”
“Guh!”
“Please, I beg you, I beg you!”
“H-hiiiik!”
He had left the Honcheon Sect men alive—some barely breathing, some with mortal wounds, some with just enough strength left to speak.
There was only one reason Gwak Yeon had not killed them all.
He still had experiments left to run.
Step, step, step.
“Jang Po! Call Jang Po! P-please don’t come! You m-monster! Jang Po, where the hell is that son of a bitch?!”
He stopped.
“P-please spare me.”
“One.”
“Young master! Great hero! Call Jang Pooo!”
“Two.”
“I’m begging you like this! Just spare my life!”
“Three.”
“I’ll never set foot in Hangzhou again! All right?”
“Four.”
“My knees? I’ll kneel! N-no, I’ll do even worse, just my life……”
“Five.”
“Ugh…… ah……””
The thing he had been testing since the beginning of the fight.
The thing he had sometimes wondered about after becoming a vampire, when he stared into a mirror and forced power into his eyes.
“It takes about five counts of eye contact before it works.”
This was the vampire’s second ability.
“Ma Gwan-wol.”
“Y-yes……””
Ma Gwan-wol’s vacant eyes.
Seeing his own red gaze reflected in them, Gwak Yeon reached a conclusion.
“From now on, I’m going to ask you a few questions.”
“Please…… speak……””
This was a sorcery that bewitched people.