Chapter 28

The pungent scent of blood stiffened everyone at once.

“Light the fire burners.”

At Un Cheol-ack’s command, two or three men lit the fire burners.

Light flooded the dark corridor.

“Check.”

A few rushed out, checked the bodies slumped on the floor, and reported back.

“It’s Senior Dong-chun.”

Silver-claw member Dong-chun— a fighter whose skill rivaled Un Cheol-ack’s.

Then word came that the other bodies were silver-claw members as well.

Above all, the most shocking thing was—

“Th-that is Senior Geuk-jin…!”

“What did you say?”

Gold-claw member Un Geuk-jin—he lay propped at the entrance, his face horribly pierced, already dead.

His emblematic gold claw was nowhere to be seen.

Thus his identity was confirmed last.

“Check the goods first, quickly!”

At Un Cheol-ack’s sharp command, a bronze-ranked member holding a torch ran inside.

Then came a thunderous shout.

“The chests—the chests are gone!”

“What!”

The remaining men all headed into the storage chamber.

It was true: the chests that held the head’s slush fund were empty, not a single coin left.

Un Cheol-ack and the others went ashen.

If they reported this, how would the chief react?

“Surely not…”

Un Cheol-ack turned his head.

This storage didn’t only hold slush funds; it held things that must never be exposed.

“…!”

To his horror, one section of the wall had been roughly cut open.

“Bring it out!”

Un Cheol-ack snatched a fire burner and moved into the hidden inner compartment.

He thrust the flame and his head inside to assess the situation.

“…Phew.”

Un Cheol-ack let out a relieved breath.

Fortunately, the inner goods seemed untouched.

Thus the worst case seemed avoided. The moment he turned his head—

Thud!

The storage door slammed shut behind them.

“Huh?”

The bronze-claw members murmured in alarm.

There couldn’t be anyone else in here, could there?

But what surprised them next was worse.

Whoosh!

A gust of wind from nowhere blew out the flame of the torch the bronze-ranked member held.

“What the—!”

This storage room was sealed on all sides with no windows; the only place wind could come through—the entrance—had just been closed, hadn’t it?

Whoosh!

The wind blew again and snuffed out another torch.

Now only the fire burner Un Cheol-ack held remained lit.

Un Cheol-ack looked at the faces of the bronze-claw members watching him.

There was no one else around.

And then—

Whoosh!

The last fire burner guttered out.

Darkness settled completely.

People unconsciously stilled their breathing and strained to listen.

Un Cheol-ack did the same.

He should have barked orders, but his voice failed him.

The unnatural darkness unnerved him.

Then a voice broke the silence.

“Who knows what’s inside here?”

It was a mischievous, sly voice—terribly out of place.

Shh-ik!

One bronze-claw member nearest the voice swung his weapon toward its source.

Clang!

He was wrong; his blade struck only solid wall.

“Bi-kang, Sa-un, do you know what’s in there?”

The two bronze-claw members flinched at their names.

They swung too, but it was futile; their blades met only each other’s steel and empty air.

“Don’t know? Seems you don’t.”

This time the voice came from the ceiling.

First left, then right, now above—the voice drifted like a ghost.

Or perhaps it was a ghost? None of them had seen any spirit snuffing the flames.

Panicked bronze-claw members flailed and slashed, but they cut only thin air.

Un Cheol-ack waited, tracking the ghostly voice.

In the pitch dark, his hearing was his only guide.

At last he realized the voice belonged to someone he remembered.

“You…?”

It was the voice of that madman in the drunken-dog mask who had fought them at the Cocoon Silkworm Clan.

The next words came from directly behind Un Cheol-ack.

“Cheol-ack, it seems you already knew.”

Shwaaak!

Before the name finished, Un Cheol-ack swung his silver blade with all his strength.

Again it was futile; his blade only scraped the stone wall.

Angered, Un Cheol-ack shouted.

“You bastard! Where do you keep running off to? Come out like a man and fight me properly!”

“What are you saying, you nail-grower. Is that manly behavior, you effeminate wretch?”

From that mocking retort, it became clear—the remaining men also realized who they faced.

The voice echoed from every direction, its source impossible to pin down. Whatever trickery it was, it was clever.

“There are corpses inside.”

“…”

A single thought flashed among the bronze-ranked members.

What? What did you say—corpses?

“Old men, young men, maidens, even children. Corpses are stored there cleanly, without regard for age or sex.”

“What nonsense is this!”

Un Cheol-ack flared up, shouting.

It was a secret that must never be revealed.

A secret that, if exposed, could never go unpunished. That madman was trying to expose it now.

“Why are corpses stored in a place like this? What on earth was it for? Is there some special use for them?”

The voice asked, rhetorically.

The bronze-claw members couldn’t help being drawn in by the question.

Un Cheol-ack thought to himself,

‘Even if he saw the corpses, he wouldn’t know their purpose. There’s no way he’d know.’

But he was wrong. The voice answered.

“Because all those things are ingredients for jiangshi.”

“What!”

Un Cheol-ack cried in shock.

How on earth did he know that?

It was a secret known only to the Un family.

But it didn’t stop there.

“The head of the Lonely Claw troops, Un Ji-kang, has been secretly practicing jiangshi arts. When his skill peaks, who do you think he’ll make into a jiangshi first?”

‘No, stop!’

Un Cheol-ack cried inwardly.

He had to shut that bastard up immediately.

He hurled his silver blade, murderous intent behind it, toward the suspected direction.

“Kraaah!”

“Aah!”

Screams filled the cramped room, but the voice went on.

“Lonely Claw troops, do you know why your weapon is the claw?”

Meanwhile Un Cheol-ack kept swinging his silver blade.

More than half his men were cut by the swinging blade.

“Who’s there!”

“Block!”

“Counterattack!”

“Don’t move! Stop! Cover your ears and drop to the ground!”

But the voice was faster than their reflexes.

“Because the claw technique is precisely the martial art optimized for jiangshi.”

“…!!”

Un Cheol-ack and the Lonely Claw troops were stunned.

Their eyes, now adapted to the dark, could make out each other’s outlines.

In the dim chamber, only five men remained standing.

They glimpsed faint clawed gauntlets and confirmed one another.

“Everyone, stand back-to-back! Move forward one step at a time and search the surroundings!”

The bronze-claw members hadn’t fully grasped that Un Cheol-ack had harmed their comrades.

So they followed Un Cheol-ack’s orders. The five stood back-to-back,

“One step!”

They stepped and slowly scanned the area.

“Two steps!”

They searched left and right, between legs and up to the ceiling—leaving no nook for even a mouse to hide.

“Three steps!”

The storage was so small they reached the wall in three steps.

But they found nothing. When Un Cheol-ack turned,

“…”

Only one figure stood watching him in the darkness.

It was enough to swear the place was haunted.

“Cheol-ack.”

A silhouette on the other side of the darkness spoke.

It was that very voice—he had pretended to be one of the Lonely Claw troops, wearing clawed gauntlets.

A chill ran down Un Cheol-ack’s spine.

“Do you know why I spared you last time?”

Playfulness had drained from his tone.

Un Cheol-ack recalled his cousin’s gaze at the entrance where he’d died.

Could I possibly defeat the one who even bested the gold claw member?

“Even if I might later, for now I didn’t want to provoke that Un bastard. It would’ve been a bother if he noticed me. The Ji-kang brat I know is naturally gifted at tormenting people. I didn’t spare you because I liked you, nor because I feared you. I spared you because it was simply bothersome. That was all. Understand?”

Who the hell was this, to speak so casually of his uncle?

Un Cheol-ack gripped his silver blade and asked.

“Who are you?”

“But that’s not it. A man can’t just let this pass. I’ve found dozens of bodies in there. Do you think the Un bastard would sacrifice only dozens for his insidious plan? I don’t.”

“What exactly are you?”

“Cheol-ack, it’s your fault. I truly didn’t want more people to die today. So why did you do something to rile me?”

“Where did you come from? Do you bear a grudge against our Un family to do this!”

“…”

Un Cheol-ack felt the silhouette staring intently across from him.

“You still don’t listen to people, do you?”

“Crazy bastard! Who are you to say that!”

Talking to him made his chest tighten and his head buzz.

Is this what it’s like when nothing you say gets through? He found himself swayed.

He really was nothing but a madman.

“Fine. Today I will relent.”

“What?”

“My name is Yeon Mujin.”

“…What?”

Un Cheol-ack rummaged his memory and recalled the name.

Yeon Mujin — the Bukgung family guard who had gone to the Flying Swallow Manor not long ago.

He also remembered his subordinate’s report that the Cocoon Silkworm clan members had all headed to the Flying Swallow Manor.

Hwak.

Yeon Mujin lit a fire burner.

The bronze-claw members collapsed at his feet were already dead.

He looked Un Cheol-ack square in the eye and said,

“I will not spare you today.”

He wore the missing gold claws on both hands.

Yeon Mujin said,

“I was once called a ghost.”

Whoosh!

Yeon Mujin vanished like an apparition into the darkness.

Un Ji-kang, chief of the Solitary Cloud Manor and leader of the Lonely Claw troops, stepped into the ruined Wang Family Merchant Union storage.

Seven bronze-claw members, four silver-claw members, one gold-claw member.

This was the number of warriors the Lonely Claw troops had lost on this mission. It included two of Un’s nephews.

He was quick with numbers; he liked to calculate gains and losses precisely.

Typically it took over five years to train a bronze-claw member, ten for a silver, and over twenty for a gold.

So the losses this time amounted to over eighty years of training.

This calculation excludes training costs and counts only the raw time invested in raising warriors.

Moreover, these members hadn’t died on a combat mission; their duties were escort and transport.

And what about the value of the items and the slush funds they were supposed to transport?

It was a loss large enough to stagger Chief Un’s balance.

But more than anything, what pained him most was this.

Un Ji-kang inspected the inner storage where the bodies had been kept.

It had been burned to ashes.

Nothing remained.

The corpses, the materials for jiangshi arts, even the records of research—all were gone.

All had become ashes.

“…”

Do you know that when anger goes too far it turns cold?

Un Ji-kang felt a cold fury he hadn’t experienced in nearly ten years.

“What kind of bastard…”

Un Ji-kang hated suffering losses above all else.

This calculating, vicious temperament had brought him this far.

If someone cost him even a single coin, Un Ji-kang would find them and repay tenfold.

Grind!

Un Ji-kang clenched his teeth.

For a loss on this scale, money could not sate his rage.

He felt only by annihilating the offender’s entire family—relatives and kin—would he find relief.

“I will find them, no matter what.”

Whoever had done this.

Un Ji-kang stared at the ashen ruins a moment longer, then turned and left.