That Man Is Different.

“It should be around here.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Just wait.”

In response to Seo Jong-dae’s question, Bong Seok answered irritably.

They had already been wandering the mountains for days.

Bong Seok took a cloth from his bosom, a cloth with a rough map drawn on it. He had received it from a Beggars’ Union disciple.

But there was a mountain next to a mountain, and another mountain next to that.

It was a place ringed by mountains on all sides.

It was only natural that the group could not find their way.

‘Does this even mean anything?’

Tang Ho looked at the group with doubtful eyes.

Just then, Gyo-ha, who had been following behind Bong Seok, came to a stop.

The others naturally halted as well.

Hopeful gazes turned toward Gyo-ha. They knew how sharp his senses were.

They were also growing tired of camping out under the open sky.

“Have you found it?”

At Jeon Pyeong’s question, Gyo-ha closed his eyes and drew in a breath.

“Probably.”

Gyo-ha exhaled quietly. There was no joy in his tone.

Before the group could even feel puzzled, Gyo-ha suddenly dashed off.

In an instant, he vanished into the bushes.

“Young hero!”

“Brother Gyo!”

The group hurriedly chased after him.

His speed was such that one could not believe he had not even ten years of internal energy.

But the group was not surprised.

They had been through far too much to be startled by something like this.

Before long, they understood why Gyo-ha had rushed forward with such a grim face.

Tang Ho was the first to realize it.

“Do not tell me…”

Running, Tang Ho furrowed his brow. Before the others could ask, Bong Seok reacted.

“This is, ack—”

While speaking as he ran, Bong Seok bit his tongue.

Before they had time to look at him in exasperation, the group’s faces also stiffened one by one.

A faintly stinging smell rose up.

It was a scent familiar to them all.

A smell one could not help but grow used to when living in the Kangho.

It was the smell of blood.

Their steps quickened. Without needing to say who first, they all put internal energy into their legs.

They each unfolded their own movement arts.

The closer they drew to where Gyo-ha had gone, the thicker the blood scent became.

And at last, the group reached their destination.

A small village.

There were others who had arrived before them.

When the group flared their presences, the beasts tearing at the corpses scattered.

“We are already too late.”

A look of dismay crossed Jeon Pyeong’s face.

“We cannot say for sure it is the work of a yokai…”

As he was speaking, Bong Seok’s face hardened. He had noticed something strange about the corpses.

Every single one had the chest torn open.

And what should have been inside was missing.

Their hearts.

There was no difference between old and young.

“…At the very least, this is not the work of beasts.”

Tang Ho clicked his tongue, his face rigid.

In the meantime, Gyo-ha, who had been surveying the village, returned.

Under their gazes, Gyo-ha spoke.

“Yes. I can smell it.”

“Can you track it?”

At Seo Jong-dae’s question, Gyo-ha shook his head.

Seo Jong-dae had wanted to avoid troublesome affairs, yet even he could not turn away from this village’s tragedy.

“That thing, what was written on it again?”

Gyo-ha spoke while looking at the wooden plaque in Jeon Pyeong’s hands.

“In the fourth month of the year of the wood horse, the deceased surnamed Jo appeared in his hometown. In the first month of this year, he was killed in a clash between Black Path men. At the time, his level was at the entry to second-rate. Suspected to be an impostor, but appearance and memories matched. Twenty-first day of the fourth month of the year of the wood horse, White-Clothed Beggar Gu Il.”

Jeon Pyeong read that far, then drew in a breath.

“Addendum. Rumor has come in that surnamed Jo is removing organs from animal carcasses every night. Since then, three people have gone missing in the village as well. One of them has been confirmed as a Beggars’ Union disciple. Further investigation appears necessary. Seventeenth day of the fifth month of the year of the wood horse, Single-Knot Beggar Gu Jeong.”

After saying that much, Jeon Pyeong lifted his head.

‘Organs.’

If that organ was the heart, then it was no mere rumor.

They could also guess the reason the villagers had been killed.

“…So the rumors spread and it could not stay any longer.”

That was the likeliest possibility.

After hearing this, Gyo-ha strode off. When they saw what he was doing, he was picking up a shovel lying by a field hut.

Only then did the others start to move.

Chasing the murderer was important, but they could not just leave these people like this.

Soon, the only sound in the village was that of earth being dug.

It was Seo Jong-dae who broke that silence.

“What is the level of a Single-Knot Beggar of the Beggars’ Union?”

At the sudden question, Bong Seok lifted his eyes sharply. But when he saw what Seo Jong-dae was looking at, he bit down on his lips.

Among the corpses was one who looked like a beggar.

It was clearly the Single-Knot Beggar who had said he would carry out further investigation.

“…It varies widely. From White-Clothed Beggar, you can earn your first knot in three years. If your talent is recognized, you can reach it even faster. It is not just martial arts. You can also qualify if you excel at side skills like gathering information or tracking.”

Having said that, Bong Seok looked at a club lying nearby.

“Seeing that he carried a dog-beating staff, he must have learned the Thirty-Six Paths Dog-Beating Staff Art. So he was at least third-rate or higher.”

“A third-rate martial artist was killed without being able to lift a hand.”

There were no signs of resistance.

Some of the villagers even held farm tools.

“…One thing is certain. It is not at the entry to second-rate.”

Tang Ho spoke coolly.

Meanwhile, the villagers’ graves were steadily made.

Martial artists were no different from superhuman beings.

With seven such people there, it was no surprise.

They laid the corpses into the holes they had dug, covered them with earth, and piled stones on top.

After offering a brief prayer for their repose, the group moved on.

“What do we do now?”

This was no longer just a matter of hunting a yokai. Their opponent was a murderer who had wiped out an entire village.

Gyo-ha moved through the undergrowth, sniffing, but it was hard to find any trace.

Just then.

“Move.”

Bong Seok pushed Gyo-ha aside.

Then he peered intently through the bushes and spoke.

“This way.”

Striding forward, Bong Seok walked on.

The group’s eyes widened, but they soon recalled that Bong Seok was a Beggars’ Union disciple.

‘Tracking arts.’

It was the technique Noh-sam had shown in the past.

“So he is not just any beggar.”

Tang Ho’s small murmur of admiration could be heard, but the others pretended not to notice.

Thus the group followed behind Bong Seok.

The problem was this.

“This way. No, it was over there.”

Bong Seok’s tracking art was so clumsy it was almost shameful to compare it to Noh-sam’s.

Sensing their looks, Bong Seok flared up.

“It is my first time actually using it in the field too!”

“…We did not say anything.”

Jeon Pyeong replied calmly. Bong Seok shut his mouth, yet he had not lied.

His face was just as tense as the others.

The reason was not hard to guess.

The dead Beggars’ Union disciple. Of course, that alone was not it.

The villagers’ deaths also played a part.

He might be a little petty and selfish, but he was still a disciple of the Beggars’ Union.

The day was already growing dark.

If it rained, their search would become even harder.

As if even blinking would be a waste, Bong Seok chased the tracks with bloodshot eyes.

Finding animal carcasses without hearts here and there let them be sure they were tracking it correctly.

However, as time passed, the group’s expressions worsened.

The traces of people passing by grew more and more numerous.

And their unease soon became reality.

“Damn it.”

Ahead of them lay a fairly large town.

It was big enough to be called a city.

They had reached Jinchuan.

“Did it go inside there?”

At Jeon Pyeong’s question, Bong Seok nodded.

“Those, things called yokai, can they live among crowds of people as well?”

“My master said they can exist anytime and anywhere.”

Gyo-ha scratched his cheek as he answered Tang Ho’s question.

In the meantime, Bong Seok was already heading boldly toward the town.

“Let us go for now. With Brother Gyo’s nose, we will manage somehow.”

At Jeon Pyeong’s words, the group nodded and followed after Bong Seok.

But they did not even need to rely on Gyo-ha’s nose.

“Has there been anyone who arrived here in the last two or three days? At least a second-rate martial artist or higher.”

“Second-rate or higher…”

At Bong Seok’s question, the beggars crouching nearby looked at one another.

Among them were beggars with knots tied here and there in their rags.

They were White-Clothed Beggars and Single-Knot Beggars of the Beggars’ Union.

True to the Beggars’ Union, they were well informed about strangers who appeared in town.

When the group stared in surprise, Bong Seok shrugged.

“The Beggars’ Union may not be the strongest power under heaven, but we are at least the group with the most disciples in the world.”

There was nowhere in the world without beggars.

Meanwhile, a clue came from the mouths of the Beggars’ Union men.

“You mean that guy? The one who supposedly joined the Black Society.”

“Demon-Banishing Sword?”

“Yes. As far as second-rate or higher goes, he is the only one.”

“The Black Society?”

Bong Seok echoed the name.

It was not because he did not know. It was a name that existed in nearly every sizable town.

“…Are they Black Path men?”

“Who else but Black Path scum would use a name like that.”

One of the beggars answered Jeon Gwang’s question.

“But they are not like ordinary Black Path thugs.”

Black Path men were Black Path men. To common folk they were objects of fear.

But not to martial artists.

They were only groups that knew how to swing blades a little.

“They have backing.”

“Backing?”

The group was puzzled, but something occurred to Bong Seok.

“Ironblood Hall.”

“That is right.”

The beggar nodded. At the name Ironblood Hall, Gyo-ha tilted his head.

He had heard it somewhere before.

The answer came from elsewhere.

“You mean Ironblood Hall of Lanzhou?”

It was Jeon Pyeong.

“Of course. Do you think there is another Ironblood Hall in these parts?”

This was where the Yu Family Manor was, which was also Jeon Pyeong’s clan.

So there was no way he would not know.

“What is Ironblood Hall of Gansu doing here…”

“Gansu is not that far from Lanzhou anyway. It is much closer than Dunhuang or Anxi.”

Seo Jong-dae replied coolly, and Bong Seok nodded.

Hearing the two speak, Gyo-ha recalled the man they had met back then.

Seo Jeong-hu.

He had withdrawn when Gyo-ha’s master Yun Heo had appeared, yet he was a man whose spirit had overwhelmed everyone present at Justice Gate.

“Lately, rumors that Justice Gate’s relationship with Wudang has soured have been spreading, and Ironblood Hall has begun expanding its power in earnest. They cannot get into Chengdu, where there are three major powers, but a place like Jinchuan is doable.”

Those major powers meant Qingcheng, Emei, and the Tang Clan.

Two of the Nine Sects, One Union and one of the Five Great Clans.

There was no way an unorthodox power could move into such a place.

“Whether it is by the Evil Heaven Alliance’s orders or something Mad Saber decided on his own, I do not know.”

Ironblood Mad Saber. That was Seo Jeong-hu’s epithet.

“He is well known for how dark his heart is.”

That was why it had been surprising when he joined the Evil Heaven Alliance.

From the start, he was not someone Justice Gate could keep in check.

The only reason they had been able to endure until now was because of Justice Gate’s master, Jeong Yeon-geom.

As he was highly renowned as a chivalrous swordsman, he had many close friends.

But now, those friends too were leaving the Murim one by one.

Ironblood Hall was not yet one of the Seven Powers that supported the Evil Heaven Alliance, but there was talk that if the Seven Powers ever gained an eighth seat, Ironblood Hall would take it.

“Right now, Shadowless Blade has come down to the Black Society.”

The group had heard that name as well.

He was one of the Ironblood Ten.

One of the ten masters who represented Ironblood Hall.

He was not someone you sent to mere Black Path riffraff, much less a minor sect.

“…Why.”

“Precisely because they are Black Path, perhaps.”

It was Seo Jong-dae. When the group looked at him, he spoke as if it were nothing.

“The unorthodox sects in this area already belong to the Evil Heaven Alliance. Whether they want it or not, they have become tied to the Seven Powers.”

That had been decided from the moment Ironblood Hall joined the Evil Heaven Alliance.

Even look at the Qingcheng Sect of the Murim Alliance. Did they not keep guard against Kunlun?

The Evil Heaven Alliance would be even worse.

“Yet even those Seven Powers will not meddle with the Black Path.”

Because of appearances.

Even mid-sized unorthodox sects looked down on the Black Path.

There was no way the pillars of the unorthodox world known as the Seven Powers would pay them any heed.

“But that man is different.”

“…”

They fell silent. The Mad Saber had been a wandering rogue from the very start.

He came from the same bottom rung as the Black Path.

Unlike other powers, he had nothing to hold him back.

So if he wanted to build an independent power, there was nothing better than the Black Path.

While chasing a yokai, the group had suddenly come face to face with something they had not expected at all, and their hearts sank heavily.