[Chapter 3]
"What happened?"
"A similar incident occurred eight months ago."
Gwi Myung was surprised that the Rat Hole had a record of a similar case, but that wasn't the issue. The target of that case was what astonished him.
"Do you know of Geum Jeok-San?"
"Of course, isn't he the wealthiest man in Shandong?"
Lim Dal had the most wealth in Shandong, and he was known as Geum Jeok-San because he owned so much gold that it formed a mountain.
Gwi Myung's eyes showed a glint of interest.
"Even him?"
Gu Seo confirmed with a nod.
"Even though they're keeping it under wraps… we found out that he was also swindled."
"It was similar to this case but over there…"
Gwi Myung was taken aback by his next words.
"Geum Jeok-San lost not just five, but seven of his fingers."
As his eyes opened wide, Gwi Myung felt a thrill. Jeok Lee-Gun was definitely related to that incident as well.
"How much damage was done over there?"
"The exact number is unknown, but estimates say it was around 1.5 million nyang."
'!'
He let out a gasp. If Jeok Lee-Gun was involved in that incident as well…
'How much money did this guy take?'
If Jin Lee-Bong and Geum Jeok-San were not the only victims, then the amount he had must be astronomical.
Gwi Myung's heart was racing. Assuming he was able to take care of him, if he got lucky, he would end up with an immense amount of wealth.
"I have a question for you."
"Of course."
"If you had a subordinate who worked for somebody for twenty years, would you be able to deceive him in one night?"
Gu Seo took a moment to think about it.
"We have to take many variables into account, such as the subordinate's personality, observational skills, and what they thought of their master. If your target's skill is at such a level, his abilities are truly impressive."
"Is there someone who makes human skin masks in this area?"
"I know a person."
"Can you get me in touch with them?"
Gu Seo hesitated to tell him, as the mask creator was an important connection for the Rat Hole, and his identity couldn't be given away carelessly. Sensing the concern on his face, Gwi Myung spoke in an assuring tone.
"There's no need to worry, I'm Gwi Myung."
"He was truly a frightening individual."
Merchant Yun's recollection of Jeok Lee-Gun was unsettling.
As Gwi Myung had anticipated, Jeok Lee-Gun procured the materials for crafting a human skin mask from this place. Not only that, but he acquired items to alter his physique and medicines to modify his voice.
"He was the kind of person who could take a life with a smile on his face."
This was a stark contrast to the impression given by the courtesans.
"Is that your intuition speaking?"
Yun nodded, his trust in Gwi Myung was bolstered by the introduction from his long-time patron, Gu Seo.
"In this line of work, one encounters a myriad of individuals. Yet, it was the first time I met someone who exudes such an unsettling aura. And he was so young, too."
"Be more specific."
"It was an innate presence. Simply standing beside him made it difficult to breathe."
Could a mere twenty-year-old really emanate such a murderous aura?
It was a notion that swayed on the edge of believability.
The deeper he delved into Jeok Lee-Gun's background, the more enigmatic he seemed to appear.
"He possessed extensive knowledge of disguising techniques. He must have been trained by a master of considerable reputation."
"Do you know who that might be?"
Yun shook his head. It was an understandable response. Techniques of disguise were closely guarded secrets. Even Yun, who appeared to be an ordinary general store owner, was no exception.
Gwi Myung concluded that there was nothing more to extract from Yun.
As he turned to leave, he hesitated momentarily.
"Who introduced him to this establishment?"
"It was a gambler named Yeom who made the introduction."
"The guy was a fool."
Yeom was very critical of the addict who had squandered his life on gambling.
"He always lost money. In my three decades of gambling, I have never encountered anyone as inept as that guy."
Gwi Myung, listening intently, sighed lightly. The man he was pursuing was like an onion; peeling away one layer only revealed another. He was an enigmatic bastard.
Perhaps feeling grateful for the few nyang he had received, Yeom began to babble about things he hadn't even been asked.
"One day, I got so frustrated that I questioned why he kept coming back in spite of losing so much. His answer was a real masterpiece."
"What was his response?"
"He claimed he was preparing for something that required immense luck in the future. So, he wanted to exhaust all his bad luck here. Hahaha! In all my years, I had never heard such an absurd excuse."
Gwi Myung's expression hardened in an instant.
This isn't an excuse, is it? Does this imply he lost deliberately?
If he could lose on purpose, he could also win on purpose.
'Who the hell is this guy?'
A shiver ran down his spine. He had faced numerous adversaries as an assassin, but never had he encountered someone this cunning.
"Did he mention anything else?"
"Ah, what did he say? He definitely said something…"
Yeom's eyes darted around, gauging Gwi Myung's reaction.
He was dragging the conversation along for more nyang. Gwi Myung played along and opened his purse.
"Ah! Now I recall. He said he was going to enter some kind of tournament."
Gwi Myung grabbed Yeom by the collar.
"What tournament?"
"Uh, I think he mentioned a martial arts tournament…"
Gwi Myung, staring into Yeom's unfocused eyes, released his grip. He realized there was no more information to extract. Pressing further would only lead Yeom to start fabricating stories.
Several martial arts tournaments that took place in the martial world came to mind.
If Yeom's information was accurate, locating the man would be a straightforward task. Yet, it seemed improbable that someone who had orchestrated such a grandiose scam would participate in a martial arts tournament.
Nevertheless, it was the most substantial lead he had uncovered thus far. Yes, if he continued to tighten the noose, the man's trail would eventually surface.
Even onions have an end when you peel them. Just wait.
Leaving Yeom to blend in with the gamblers, Gwi Myung exited the gambling den.
Gwi Myung glanced up at the sky. The overcast sky threatened rain at any moment.
He proceeded to the final place he needed to investigate.
"Young Master Jeok was truly a warm-hearted individual."
This was the assessment of the manor manager regarding Jeok Lee-Gun. Mixed opinions about him were no longer surprising.
"He was genuinely a good person."
Even after his departure, seeing him receive such generous treatment, it was clear he had earned high regard from this elderly man.
'He was a greatly favored person.'
Gwi Myung's expression showed a faint smile, recalling Jin Lee-Bong.
This was the manor where Jeok Lee-Gun had resided for the past six months. The manor had been vacant since Jeok Lee-Gun left some time ago.
"What was so admirable about him? Did he lend you money?"
Gwi Myung did not bother to conceal his killing intent. When dealing with ordinary people, such pressure is certainly effective in extracting information.
Indeed, the manager, perhaps due to tension, continued to speak without pause.
"That's not it, but he always showed concern for people like us, those in lower positions."
"For instance?"
The manager hesitated momentarily.
He seemed worried that his response might cause harm to Jeok Lee-Gun. But Gwi Myung's showed a killing intent that made it hard to uphold his loyalty.
"Don't worry, I only need the information for an investigation."
The manager most likely didn't believe his affirmation, but since Jeok Lee-Gun was no longer around, he let go of his qualms and answered truthfully.
"My son aspired to become a martial artist and had started causing trouble since around two years ago. After attending a martial arts school last year, he started associating with some ruffians. I sought Jeok Lee-Gun's help because he never listened to my words."
"What happened after that?"
"After conversing with Jeok Lee-Gun, my son abandoned his naive longing for the martial world. Do you know what he advised him to do?"
The manager quickly spoke, perhaps fearing Gwi Myung would summon his son for an inquiry as well.
"He told my son that soon a more wonderful martial world would unfold. He advised him to enter the martial world then. And then he demonstrated a move. When he swung his sword, there was a thunderclap that appeared from the clear sky, and lightning struck. My son tends to exaggerate, so it was hard to believe. Nevertheless, since that day, he has settled down and ceased fighting. To me, Jeok Lee-Gun is my benefactor."
The son's change brought no interest to Gwi Myung.
The thunderclap was what he really felt was an issue.
It was widely acknowledged that only the Thunder Sword Technique could produce a thunderclap upon a martial artist reaching the composition stage.
'That's inconceivable.'
Achieving the composition stage at the age of twenty was beyond belief.
Even Naeng Lee-Sang, a revered martial arts master, was said to have achieved the composition stage at forty. Furthermore, would he demonstrate such valuable martial arts to the manor manager's son? And such an individual was humiliated by a group of vagrants?
It was a sequence of events that defied Gwi Myung's common sense. Gwi Myung pressed his temples with his fingers as if his head was throbbing.
"Did he ever have any visitors?"
"No, not a single person visited."
"Isn't it peculiar for someone so young to live alone in such a place?"
"I just thought he was a lonely person."
Finally, the manager halted in front of the annex in the rear garden.
"Here it is. Feel free to take your time and look around."
Gwi Myung called out to him just as he was about to turn away.
"One final question."
Gwi Myung retrieved a coin from his pocket.
"Did he leave any message when he departed? Perhaps about his destination?"
The manager, fixated on the silver coin in Gwi Myung's hand, tried hard to remember.
"Ah! He mentioned he was going to find a smart woman to manage his large household, now that he was ready. The most beautiful and intelligent woman in the martial world."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, upon hearing that, I really wished my son had been born a daughter."
"Did he make any mention of a martial arts tournament?"
The manager tilted his head, indicating he had not heard anything of the sort.
Without a moment's hesitation, Gwi Myung tossed him a silver coin. The manager, delighted with the money, quickly disappeared.
"A woman…"
Furthermore, he wanted to find a woman to oversee a large household? What could this guy possibly be planning?
Gwi Myung entered the building at a leisurely pace. He walked down the corridor and stepped into the room where Jeok Lee-Gun was said to have stayed.
The room was meticulously organized. Dust had accumulated on the table, as it hadn't been cleaned during the period it remained vacant.
Gwi Myung's attention shifted to the map of the Central Plains adorning the wall. His eyes, which had initially skimmed over it, now homed in with focus.
He approached it with urgency.
A red circle was drawn over the Hubei region, accompanied by a hastily scribbled phrase in red letters.
"Conquer Hubei."
Conquer Hubei? The province itself?
At that moment, the two significant martial arts tournaments scheduled to be held there this year flashed through Gwi Myung's mind like a bolt of lightning. It felt as though a previously obstructed clue was finally unraveling.
Re-examining the map, Gwi Myung chuckled, as if Jeok Lee-Gun were standing right before him, Gwi Myung provocatively said.
"Why limit yourself? Why not inscribe 'Dominate the World'?"
Then, a chilling voice replied from behind him.
"I stopped him from doing that. Advised him to take it step by step."
Ttorororong–
Gwi Myung was jolted back to awareness by the sound of clear, flowing water.
He was startled.
'Gasp! Did I lose consciousness?'
The more alarming realization was that he couldn't figure out how he had lost consciousness. Fragmented scenes flickered in his mind, and his head felt as though it might explode.
'Let's stay calm.'
Gwi Myung steadied himself.
The title of 'Best in the World' was not bestowed lightly. He had once completed an assassination after enduring ten days in a cesspool. His mental fortitude was unparalleled in the martial world.
His shoulder felt as though it were ablaze. How much blood had he lost? The fact that he could still feel pain was a positive sign. If the nerves had been completely severed, he would feel nothing.
Gwi Myung refrained from opening his eyes hastily.
The scene before him would remain unchanged regardless. It was prudent to delay revealing his regained consciousness for as long as possible.
As he concentrated, his memory began to resurface gradually. Amidst the splitting headache, fragmented testimonies about Jeok Lee-Gun emerged.
And then, the eerie voice that reverberated in Gwi Myung's mind.
Ah! That's right. He had heard a voice from behind.
In that moment, Gwi Myung turned without hesitation and unleashed a lethal hidden weapon. The individual had approached him without a sound, indicating their superiority.
My God! Such a master.
Only a surprise attack could save him. That judgment was undoubtedly correct.
'But…'
His head throbbed once more.
A fleeting vision of an object hurtling towards him materialized.
It moved with a swiftness surpassing any weapon Gwi Myung had ever faced.
'I was struck by that.'
Ttorororong.
The gentle sound of water dripping echoed once more. It was the noise produced by the sound of tea being poured into a cup.
'Who could be the one who captured me?'
Praying it wasn't the worst-case scenario, Gwi Myung cautiously opened his eyes.
His blurred vision slowly began to sharpen.
Three individuals were seated around a table, sipping tea.
Gwi Myung squeezed his eyes shut once more.
How he wished they were burly brutes, exchanging crude jokes, or a torturer brandishing heated iron rods to intimidate him. But reality diverged sharply from Gwi Myung's desire.
'Damn! This is bad.'
Though he couldn't verify it clearly, he sensed they were all elderly. And the one with her back turned was unmistakably an old woman.
Sipping tea with elegance while holding someone captive? That could signify only one thing. Masters! Damn, and there were three of them.
Gwi Myung cracked his eyes open slightly again and glanced down at his throbbing right shoulder.
Gwi Myung nearly let out a scream.
Embedded in his shoulder was something beyond his wildest nightmares.
It was a sickle.
A crude, heavy sickle with a blue steel blade had pierced his shoulder and lodged itself into the wall behind him.
'Could it be that the object that flew at me was this sickle?'
The mental shock of failing to evade such a crude and enormous sickle rattled Gwi Myung's mind.
At that moment, a realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.
'Impossible!'
No sickle-wielding master in existence could penetrate his shoulder.
All but one.
The master who wielded a set of cursed demonic weapons.
The Twin Sickle-Wielding Demon.
Sixty years ago, the legendary demonic master, Yang Hwa-Young, had terrorized the martial world with her twin sickles.
Yang Hwa-Young was one of the most extraordinary women in the long history of the martial world. It was rare enough for a woman to wield a sickle as a weapon, but what was truly astonishing was her earth-shattering martial prowess.
She was the most trusted and favored by the previous Heavenly Demon. Known for her extreme demonic arts and cold nature, she was called the Supreme Demon Empress, a legendary figure regarded to be above the Six Demon Supremes.
The legendary demonic master of the martial world, Yang Hwa-Young, wielding the Twin Demonic Sickles.
'Is it really her?'