5 days had passed since Sun-woo and Min-jun began their covert operation.
The once-quiet town now buzzed with hushed whispers, the rumors of a powerful sect and its enigmatic master spreading like wildfire.
Sun-woo, true to his programmer's nature, had meticulously crafted a campaign of misinformation, utilizing Min-jun's familiarity with the town and its inhabitants. He had planted seeds of doubt and fear, carefully cultivating an atmosphere of paranoia within the Black Viper Gang.
Meanwhile, deep within the heart of the mountains, within the rough-hewn walls of the Black Viper's fortress, a different kind of tension brewed.
The atmosphere within the Black Viper fortress was thick with a tension that could be cut with a blade. Gone was the usual raucous laughter and drunken revelry. A heavy, oppressive silence had settled over the rough-hewn halls, broken only by the occasional shuffle of boots or the crackling of the torches that lined the walls.
Viper, his face a mask of cold fury, stood at the head of the long, crudely constructed table, his gaze sweeping across his five lieutenants. They were a grim-looking bunch, each bearing the scars and hardened expressions of a life lived on the fringes of society. They were his Venom Fangs, the enforcers of his will, and tonight, they wore expressions of unease.
"This… sect master," Viper began, his voice a low growl that echoed through the hall, "he's playing games with us. He's trying to make us look weak, to undermine my authority. But I won't allow it."
His lieutenants, Scarface, Fang, Cobra, Claw, and Shadow, exchanged uneasy glances. They were all Awakening Sprout cultivators, barely more than glorified thugs, and the prospect of facing a genuine martial artist, a master of the "Paths of Ascension," filled them with a primal dread.
"Boss," Scarface ventured, his voice trembling slightly, "the rumors… they're spreading fast. Even the men are starting to get nervous."
"Nervous?" Viper sneered. "They have no reason to be nervous. We're the Black Vipers! We fear no one!"
"But the incidents, boss," Claw interjected, his voice low and cautious. "The armory, the watchtower, the supply carts… it's like someone's playing with us."
"Playing with us?" Viper's eyes narrowed to slits. "They're trying to provoke us. They want us to make a mistake."
"And the rumors, boss," Shadow added, his voice barely a whisper. "They say he has an army. An army of cultivators."
Viper slammed his fist on the table, making the torches flicker and dance. "Enough! I don't care about rumors! I care about action!"
He turned to Fang, his eyes glinting with a predatory light. "Fang, I want you to lead the patrols. Every street, every alley, every corner. I want the people to see us, to know that we're watching. I want them to tremble in their boots."
Fang, his youthful bravado returning with the promise of action, grinned. "Yes, boss! They'll learn to respect the Black Vipers!"
"Scarface, Claw, Shadow," Viper continued, his gaze sweeping across his remaining lieutenants, "I want you to focus on the town's perimeter. Set up checkpoints, search every traveler. We'll cut off any information he might be gathering."
"And Cobra," he said, "I want you to oversee the operation. Make sure there are no slip-ups. No mistakes."
"As you command, boss," Cobra replied, his eyes gleaming with a cold, calculating light.
"We'll show them," Viper growled, his voice laced with a dark satisfaction. "We'll show them that the Black Vipers are not to be trifled with."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the rough-hewn walls of the fortress. "And the slaves… thin their guards. A few less guards won't make a difference. We need to show strength in the town, not in the fortress. We need to show them who is in control."
The lieutenants nodded, a grim determination settling over them. They were ready to unleash their brand of terror upon the town, to remind the people who held the power. They would show this sect master, whoever he was, that the Black Vipers were not to be underestimated.
As they dispersed, Viper turned to the map spread out on the table. He traced his finger along the streets of the town, his mind calculating the best way to deploy his forces.
"He'll come through here," pointing at rhe narrow heavily guarded pass, he muttered, "It's the only way."
He knew that the rumors were a carefully crafted smokescreen, a distraction. The sect master was planning something, and Viper was determined to be ready. He wouldn't underestimate his opponent, no matter how outlandish the rumors seemed.
He thought of the incidents that had occurred in the past few days: the ransacked armory, the collapsed watchtower, the sabotaged supply carts.
It was clear that someone was playing a game of cat and mouse, testing their defenses, probing their weaknesses.
"He's trying to make us doubt ourselves," Viper said to himself, his voice laced with a cold fury. "He wants us to panic. But I won't give him the satisfaction. I'll show him what happens when you try to play games with the Black Vipers."
He also knew there was a gamble, a calculated risk. By thinning the guards around the slaves, he was leaving a potential vulnerability. But he believed that the psychological impact of a visible show of force would be far more effective in deterring the sect master. He wanted to project an image of unwavering strength, to make his enemies believe that they were facing an unstoppable force, a force that was everywhere at once.
He would maintain the illusion of absolute control, to prove that he was an unyielding force. He would not allow a single crack to appear in his facade.
He would crush this sect master, whoever he was, and restore the Black Viper Gang to its former, terrifying glory.
He would prove that fear was his weapon, and he was the undisputed master of it.
The time for games was over.
Now, it was time for blood.