The Martial Alliance’s Commission (4)

Grumble, grumble.

Mutter, mutter.

Forced to accompany Neung Je-gang again, Gal Hwi-jeong’s cheeks puffed like a sulking child. His self-pity at being unable to escape a man he hated mixed with the fact that he had just been told—again—to keep it down.

“Is the scene inside the Martial Alliance?”

Neung Je-gang asked because Gal Hwi-jeong kept leading him around within the Alliance instead of heading out.

“No. The scene is Hanzhong in Shaanxi. But we moved the bodies here to preserve their condition. It’s been over a month since they were found. Left as they were, they would have rotted. The Alliance has a special place perfect for storing corpses, so their condition is virtually the same as when we discovered them.”

Once given an opening, Gal Hwi-jeong poured out all the words he had bottled up.

“Is the original scene intact?”

“We preserved it as-is. It’s been a while, so there’ll be dust, but it’s maintained exactly as first discovered.”

That was fortunate. If the scene remained untouched, there was a far better chance of finding clues.

“This is where the bodies are kept.”

They stopped before a massive door within the Alliance, guarded by eight warriors despite being inside the compound.

Creak—

With a dull groan, the door opened and a wave of cold air spilled out.

“We call this the Ice Vault. It was made as a training hall for disciples who cultivate cold-element arts, but now it serves for preserving corpses.”

The Ice Vault descended by stairs deep underground. Even Neung Je-gang could not guess how it had been made.

Gal Hwi-jeong, ever talkative, supplied the answer.

“It started as an underground training hall. Then we happened to acquire two bingjeong—Ice Essence Crystals—so we laid a formation here, and… well, you see the result.”

With such crystals, and a formation to diffuse the cold, this Ice Vault made sense.

“We’re here.”

Another door waited at the bottom—meaning it was even colder beyond.

Grk—

As it opened, an icy prickle crept over the skin. Neung Je-gang, however, felt no chill; he was long past the state of being affected by heat or cold.

He stepped in ahead of Gal Hwi-jeong. The branch chief’s eyes went round—he had deliberately failed to warn how bitter the cold was, thinking to make the youth suffer once. Again, his little plan went nowhere; the only one shivering was himself.

A vast underground space opened out—just as one would expect of a training hall. In the center stood thirty black coffins in neat ranks.

Neung Je-gang approached them.

“They’re frozen too hard.”

Corpses frozen solid were troublesome to autopsy; to find wounds or cause of death, one needed to manipulate the body, risking breakage and false marks.

He raised his inner energy and took a corpse’s hand. The warmth of the Three Yang Energy Art flowed into it. A short time later, the body loosened enough to handle.

He examined carefully. The clothes had been removed, which helped.

There was a straight, split incision down chest and belly.

“This…?”

“Ah, that’s from our autopsy. We found no poison, no clear traces of martial impact. In short, no fatal wound. With everyone dead, we had to ask for help.”

He spoke as if forgetting they had requested outside aid because the Investigation Unit lacked hands. With so many investigators, they should have spared one or two—yet supposedly they couldn’t. Odd.

Snickt—

Neung Je-gang drew a slim blade and widened the existing cut.

Nothing. No sign of toxin insertion; no pulp or severing of viscera; not a true-energy kill.

“Did you know there are four ways to kill without external wounds?”

He asked suddenly.

“Pressing lethal acupoints…?”

Neung Je-gang nodded.

“That’s one. But an autopsy would show blocked blood flow.”

“Then… mm…”

Gal Hwi-jeong’s wits ran out.

“One is to stop the heart; another, to stop the brain. The last is, of course, poison. The problem: halting only the heart or only the brain without trace is not easy. Ribs protect the heart; the skull protects the brain. And to do that to thirty people at once—nearly impossible.”

He released that corpse’s hand, examined another, and then stared into empty air.

A slow grin spread over his face. Neither Gal Hwi-jeong nor Go So-jeong, hiding in the shadows, could know what he thought—but both felt he had grasped something.

“You said the scene was in Hanzhong, Shaanxi?”

“Yes, but…?”

“Let’s go. To be certain, we need to see it with our own eyes.”

They left the Alliance for Hanzhong. Both Go So-jeong and Gal Hwi-jeong reported up the chain: the “Secret Shadow” seemed to have found a lead.

“We’ve word that the brat calling himself Secret Shadow has figured something out.”

In a lavish chamber where silk hangings swayed, a woman reclining across a great bed glanced up, startled.

“Impossible…? Someone can recognize it?”

“Do you not know who Secret Shadow is? He was the foremost assassin in the Jianghu. The current one may be the son, but assume he inherited the father’s gifts. Judging from what he showed in the pirate-suppression, he’s no worse than his sire. With top-shelf assassin craft, he might truly discern it. And as Nam Yeong’s disciple, he may be better.”

“What do we do, then?”

She looked worried.

“They went to the scene. Did anything at all get left there?”

“Hmph. You know very well nothing was left. And the real scene wasn’t there—what could he possibly find?”

The woman was firm.

“But the bodies that should have held nothing yielded something to him. It’s too risky to sit back.”

“Then…?”

“We kill him. Before he reaches Hanzhong.”

“Wouldn’t that leave our traces?”

“Heh heh… not at all. We’ll commission the Assassin Pavilion. They grind their teeth at Secret Shadow. And their base lies right along the route to Hanzhong—perfect.”

“Ah, I see. Hoho! Even if they fail, it can be chalked up to their personal vendetta. Very well—I’ll place the contract. You mustn’t expose yourself.”

“I’m counting on you.”

The man bowed to the woman and turned toward the door.

“Leaving already? It’s been so long…”

She beckoned with a sultry hand. He kept walking.

“You know how busy the Martial Alliance is. It took effort to come at all. Next time.”

After he left, the woman tugged one of the tasselled cords beside the bed.

“You called?”

No one was visible, yet a voice answered.

“Send a contract to the Assassin Pavilion. Target: Secret Shadow. Time limit: before he reaches Hanzhong. Price: one hundred thousand taels in gold. Choose a child who can keep a mouth sealed—we cannot be traced.”

“Understood.”

Silence returned.

“Hehe—Second Secret Shadow, is it? His father was the handsomest rogue in the Jianghu. Is the son just as pretty, I wonder? Hehe… hehehe!”

Her laughter slithered through the chamber like cold mist.