Chapter 27

The gold claw member Un Geuk-jin, hidden in the darkness, swallowed hard.

‘He’s a skilled warrior!’

Even exhausted and off-guard from a long infiltration, it was obvious from how he and the three others had approached while concealing themselves.

They couldn’t tell where the man had come from, but he moved with the mastery of a professional in stealth. And,

Swish!

In two motions he slaughtered all three silver claw members. It happened in the blink of an eye.

Startled, Un Geuk-jin almost whispered a prayer. He forced himself to steady his breath and remain still.

“…”

Fortunately, the man didn’t seem to have noticed him yet.

Un Geuk-jin was cautious by nature. He never overestimated his abilities.

‘The moment he carelessly opens that storeroom door, that’s the chance.’

He hid his claws and waited.

Then the man in black who had been inspecting the corpses tilted his head in puzzlement.

He began counting the bodies with the tip of his blade.

“One, two, three… one is missing?”

A chill ran down Un Geuk-jin’s spine.

There was always one rule when Lonely Claw Troops members were dispatched on a mission. Depending on the mission’s rank, the leader of that rank and subordinates of lower ranks were assigned. If a gold claw member took a mission, silver claws were mobilized; if a silver claw took it, bronze claws were mobilized. Only an insider would know that.

‘Could it be?… No, it can’t be.’

He shoved the unease aside. It was probably a probe to see if there was an ambush. He mustn’t be shaken. The opponent hadn’t noticed him.

The man in black gradually approached the storeroom entrance.

As Un Geuk-jin had thought, they showed no vigilance on this side.

He readied his ambush. One more step. Just one more.

At the moment that last step remained,

Whip!

The man in black turned his head.

“Geuk-jin, is that you?”

“…!”

Un Geuk-jin met his gaze from within the darkness.

All three of the dead men wore silver claws. That meant a gold claw member had led them.

‘They even sent a gold claw member for a sack-guarding mission.’

That was information no one outside the Lonely Claw’s inner workings could know. Even now, a gold claw member was likely hiding in the dark, targeting Yeon Mujin.

‘Let’s see…’

None of them registered on Yeon Mujin’s qi presence. Their stealth was that refined. Didn’t I say? The more skilled the Lonely Claw Troops got, the quieter they became. At this level, they were killers more than warriors.

But being invisible to qi didn’t mean they couldn’t be identified.

There weren’t many gold claw members. A gold claw trusted enough by that ‘Un’ fellow to guard the storeroom—someone cautious enough to wait for opportunities while subordinates were being wiped out, with that degree of stealth—there could only be one.

“Geuk-jin, is that you?”

When he spoke casually into the air, the atmosphere rippled. The man was unsettled. And,

Ssssh!

Three streaks of claws shot from the darkness.

Cheng!

Yeon Mujin raised his battered iron sword to block Un Geuk-jin’s attack.

Kigik!

His cheap blade screamed.

The gold claws Un Geuk-jin wore were high-end—worth as much as Yeon Mujin’s annual pay. It was natural he’d be pushed back.

“Hold on, stop!”

Yeon Mujin barked, but Un Geuk-jin pressed on, true to his cautious nature: show no opening and keep up the attack.

Claws are poor for defense compared to a sword.

Shik! Shik! Ssssh!

The six whirling blades were fierce, yet the sounds grew fainter—proof of Un Geuk-jin’s skill.

Pushed onto the defensive, Yeon Mujin retreated. The space that had favored him against the silver claws turned disadvantageous.

He couldn’t fall back forever.

Klang!

“…!”

Ultimately, Yeon Mujin’s iron sword, unable to overcome the hardness difference, snapped.

He paled. The expression was hidden behind his mask, but it was there.

“Hey, wait. That’s cheating, cheating!”

Despite his cry, Un Geuk-jin didn’t let the chance slip.

At the moment the two gauntlets and six blades were about to shred Yeon Mujin’s body—

“Gold claw member Un Geuk-jin! Aren’t you afraid of Chief Un Ji-kang’s fearsome command?”

“…!”

There was only one man gold claw members feared and obeyed: Lonely Claw Troops Chief Un Ji-kang.

Uttuk!

At Yeon Mujin’s single line, Un Geuk-jin’s movements froze. It was a reflex born of years serving Un Ji-kang.

Yeon Mujin knew exactly what kind of man Un Geuk-jin was. Of course—because they knew each other.

Un Geuk-jin’s mouth opened. He would probably want to ask: ‘Are you the one sent by my uncle’s orders?’ But he’d be confused—if so, why had this man killed the silver claws?

Yeon Mujin answered with action.

A broken blade rose and struck beneath Un Geuk-jin. It was as stealthy as his gauntlets and as swift as a spear.

“…!”

By the time Un Geuk-jin realized, he couldn’t fully evade it. He twisted his head back.

Pishuk!

An inch—no, if the blade had been half an inch longer, Un Geuk-jin’s face would have been split in two.

Sprays of blood filled his vision. He stepped back and vowed he wouldn’t be fooled again by that man’s words.

When Un Geuk-jin, having retreated, looked forward again,

He saw a broken blade already flying straight at his face.

“Crazy.”

That was the gold claw member Un Geuk-jin’s final word.

“Jesus, I almost died for real.”

Yeon Mujin looked down at Un Geuk-jin, dead with a blade lodged in his face.

It was fortunate it was Un Geuk-jin. If it had been a different gold claw member, he might have really died.

Four bodies lay collapsed in the corridor: three silver claws and one gold.

Yeon Mujin pulled the blade from Un Geuk-jin’s face. Flesh came away with it.

He folded his hands briefly in prayer for the dead. Love or hate, they’d once eaten from the same pot.

“Today, I really don’t want to see any more blood.”

Yeon Mujin didn’t enjoy using a blade. He disliked it.

Prestigious sects ranted about putting the Tao into the sword, filling it with spirit—what nonsense. For Yeon Mujin, martial skill was simple: methods for killing people. Swordsmen kill with blades; spearmen stab; fist fighters beat. All other talk prettified killing.

If you cut someone down, your sleep is disturbed. Memories surface.

“Bukgung Family Lord, if it was a promise like this I wouldn’t have granted it.”

Looking at the blood on the blade, Yeon Mujin tossed it into a corner and snorted a laugh. Whether it was laugh or cry, he couldn’t tell his mood. Maybe he’d stopped caring.

“Well then, since the job’s done, shall we go collect the payment?”

He carefully opened the storeroom door. Fortunately, there were no hidden mechanisms.

He’d scared himself for nothing. To be foiled by a trap after killing them all would have been humiliating.

Kkigiik!

When the heavy stone gate opened, the bleak interior came into view.

No silks, no gold, no luxurious treasures—this ‘Un’ fellow never cared for such things. Instead, there were crates—an immense number of them.

Yeon Mujin opened the nearest crate.

“Whew.”

Jackpot.

The crate was packed with money. He opened a few more; each the same. This place wasn’t a pit; it was a gold mine.

But the problem was,

“…How am I supposed to haul all this?”

One or two crates he could carry, but the wall was filled with them. No matter how strong, moving everything would attract attention. And who knew when Lonely Claw thugs might burst in?

“Should I find a cart? If the trail gets long, it’s easy to get caught.”

He scratched his head.

“Hm?”

As he pondered, a faint light leaked through a tiny crack in the back wall beyond the stacked crates. It was so weak he wouldn’t have noticed it if the storeroom had been brighter.

He shoved the crates and knocked on the wall beyond. It sounded hollow—his instincts told him so.

There was something there.

The wall had no handle. Pushing did nothing.

At times like this it’s best to stab at it with a blade. But…

Yeon Mujin looked at his bare hand with a wry expression.

‘No weapon?’

He went back to the corridor and glanced at the sword he’d tossed. It was a broken lump of scrap metal.

Left with no choice, he took the gold claw gauntlet from Un Geuk-jin’s corpse and put it on.

“Geuk-jin, don’t be resentful.”

He prayed for the dead again, then returned to the storeroom and assumed a stance.

“I’ll show the skill that once made me the Lonely Claw Troop’s prodigy.”

He muttered to himself where no one could hear.

Swaaaaak!

There was no fancy technique—the weapon was so fine it cut like a knife through tofu.

Yeon Mujin stared at the gauntlet and let out a hollow laugh.

“Well, I’ll be.”

Even unused for years, it was absurdly expensive and perfect.

‘Geuk-jin, if you lose even wearing something like this, you can’t blame fate for your death.’

The light seeping through the crack came from a night-luminous gem. Yeon Mujin craned his head inside.

“…”

His expression hardened.

“Ha…”

He sighed and pressed a hand to his face.

“…You Un bastard, you damned Ji-kang. You hid something like this here?”

Deep at night, at the Wang Family Trading Union.

Un Cheol-ack arrived by carriage and asked his subordinate bronze operative, “You kept them quiet, right?”

“Of course.”

“Under no circumstances must word of the Cocoon Silkworm clan leak out. The Chief will not forgive us.”

The bronze claws nodded with grim faces. They had buried that day’s shameful events in their hearts. Even now, the man’s voice made them grind their teeth in sleep.

“Did you find any trace of the Cocoon Silkworm clan bastards?”

“They fled before dawn. We’ll have to search Taiyuan again… Actually, an informant sent a strange report.”

“What is it?”

“A rumor that they headed to Flying Swallow Manor….”

“The Flying Swallow Manor?”

Un Cheol-ack couldn’t believe his ears.

“Yes. The report cut off there. Lately the atmosphere inside Flying Swallow Manor has been turbulent; they’ve been driving everyone out, so we couldn’t get exact details.”

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

No ordinary boss could scale the Bukgung Family’s wall alone without support. If the rumor was true, it meant they had backing or some way to enter Flying Swallow Manor.

‘…Could it be?’

Un Cheol-ack recalled the strange man who had defeated him—the mysterious figure who had appeared when they attacked the Cocoon Silkworm Clan. Come to think of it, the reason they struck that clan was connected to Flying Swallow Manor.

‘Now that I think about it.’

Recently a wild, thunderous man had shown up at the manor: a lowborn brat who, upon entering, immediately slit a comrade’s throat—a madman. The fiend Un Cheol-ack had seen that day matched that description.

What was that man’s name again?

‘…I don’t recall clearly. But I should check as soon as we return.’

Un Cheol-ack shook his head. What mattered now was the transport mission. They had to move the crates from the Wang Family Trading Union’s storeroom.

“Prepare everything.”

The mission was simple, but secrecy and security were paramount.

Un Cheol-ack’s bronze operatives moved stealthily toward the union’s rear—and discovered something.

“…!”

The moment they entered the corridor, the thick scent of blood hit them. Without a doubt, something had occurred.