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Illusion arts were, at their core, martial techniques laced with trickery. That was why it was so hard to explain them to those who had never encountered them.
Go So-jeong and Majil reacted that way. They could not comprehend how Neung Je-gang, whose body had been shredded and scattered, was now standing alive and whole. Nor could he reveal the truth about the Death-Demon Flow’s illusion of death—least of all to Go So-jeong, who belonged to the Martial Alliance.
“If I’m alive, what’s the problem?”
Neung Je-gang brushed it off, giving only a simple explanation about the Hidden Shadows and Extreme Secrecy Method instead of the Death-Demon Flow.
And it was true enough—wasn’t the fact he lived reason enough to rejoice?
“Then who are they?”
Realizing Neung Je-gang would not speak further, Go So-jeong shifted to another issue. She and Majil already knew his temperament. Once his lips closed, there was no way to pry them open.
The smell of blood hung thick in the butcher village at Dongpa Ridge. People were searching the place from end to end—those who had come following Cheong Yeon.
“They’re called the Chaos-Blood Squad of the Black Alliance.”
“The Chaos-Blood Squad!”
Go So-jeong gasped.
“What?”
“They’re one of the three great armed corps of the Black Alliance. They’re about the same as our Martial Alliance’s Special Assault Corps. But why are they here?”
“They said they came for meat.”
“Meat?”
“This is a slaughterhouse, isn’t it?”
“You’re saying the Chaos-Blood Squad handles hauling meat?”
“That’s their business. Not mine.”
Hearing that, Go So-jeong stared at him for a long moment. When his discomfort grew under her gaze, she finally spoke angrily.
“And why are you speaking down to me?”
“Uh…”
Neung Je-gang shut his mouth. He had indeed spoken in half-form unconsciously, irritated by her endless questions.
“Chief!”
Majil’s voice saved him from the moment. At the sound, Neung Je-gang quickly turned toward him.
“What is it?”
“I can’t learn that illusion art, can I?”
Apparently Majil had been pondering it all along. After all, the idea of transforming into whatever form one desired was fascinating.
“No.”
It was impossible until all Five Elements were gathered. Majil knew that, yet asked out of regret.
“Chief!”
Just then Cheong Yeon approached, directing the Black Alliance warriors scouring the village.
Before Go So-jeong and Majil fully regained their composure, Neung Je-gang and Cheong Yeon exchanged news of what had happened to each. Of course, Neung Je-gang concealed that he was cultivating a forbidden art. He could not completely trust Cheong Yeon now that the man belonged to the Black Alliance.
“When will you depart? I’ll escort you.”
“All business is finished?”
The Chaos-Blood Squad had not come in vain. The late Yuk Cheon-u had prepared the ordered meat in advance, and fortunately it had been stored separately and so survived the fierce battle.
“Yes, we can go now.”
At Cheong Yeon’s words, Neung Je-gang rose. Go So-jeong and Majil followed, rested enough to move again.
Yet Majil’s expression darkened. His eyes toward Cheong Yeon blazed.
Noticing, Neung Je-gang said,
“Cheong Yeon, you know Majil, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
The answer was curt, and his gaze toward Majil was just as unfriendly.
“Majil, you know Cheong Yeon too. Meeting like this is fate, so ease your face.”
Grit—! Majil’s teeth ground audibly.
Cheong Yeon pretended not to notice and looked away. Their history was bitter indeed.
For it had been Cheong Yeon who destroyed Majil’s dantian when Neung Je-gang captured him in Beijing. Though done as official duty, it had forced Majil to abandon every dream—something he would never forget.
“Hahaha!”
Neung Je-gang, aware of this, could say no more.
“Chief!”
“What?”
“Why does that man still call you Chief? Does the Black Alliance hand out that title to anyone?”
Majil’s voice was edged with provocation.
Cheong Yeon merely glared once at him, then turned his eyes back to Neung Je-gang.
“Chief! Why do you keep someone so vile at your side?”
“Haha.”
Neung Je-gang could only laugh, too weary to explain.
Go So-jeong, knowing none of their shared past, simply blinked round eyes in confusion.
The Chaos-Blood Squad slowly pulled wagons laden with meat. A little behind, Neung Je-gang’s group walked with Cheong Yeon.
“At that pace, won’t the meat spoil?”
Go So-jeong asked, curious.
She had seen provisions transported often enough within the Martial Alliance, and this place was far hotter than Zhengzhou.
“There are warriors trained in Cold Yin Arts riding the wagons. That’s why my unit handles the meat supply.”
Cheong Yeon answered her immediately—without once glancing at Majil.
“What?”
“This is a sweltering region. Very few in the Black Alliance practice Cold Yin Arts. By chance, two such men ended up under me, so I was assigned this task.”
“Oh! Then wouldn’t it be better to give those two separate posts instead of wasting an elite squad like the Chaos-Blood Squad on provisions?”
“But those two refuse to leave the squad, even if it means death…”
“Why?”
“They’re warriors too. Though sometimes pulled into menial work, being part of the Chaos-Blood Squad still earns higher standing in the Alliance.”
“Is that so? Strange… Usually orders from above must be followed without question.”
Go So-jeong tilted her head. In the Martial Alliance, disobeying orders was unthinkable—though she herself was hardly one to talk.
“The Black Alliance assigns posts by strength. If you dislike your post, fight the warrior where you want to go. If you win, you take it. If you want to be Alliance Lord, challenge him—win, and the post is yours.”
“Ah! So it’s rule by might… I like that method!”
Go So-jeong nodded, impressed. The Black Alliance contrasted sharply with her Martial Alliance.
Cheong Yeon gave her a strange look. In the Martial Alliance, he had heard, such methods were dismissed as brutish insubordination—typical of the demonic path.
‘But she likes it?’
The woman who had called herself daughter of the Martial Alliance’s Investigation Unit Chief certainly thought in unusual ways.
“By the way—how long have you known the Secret Shadow?”
She asked at last, revealing the question she’d really wanted to ask. All her small talk with Cheong Yeon had been leading here.
But Cheong Yeon said nothing about Neung Je-gang.
“Since you call him Chief, you must have once belonged to the same place. Where might that be?”
Seeing him keep silent, Go So-jeong muttered as if to herself, watching him closely for any reaction. But none came.
Men trained in the Eastern Depot were masters of silence. For secrecy, they lived always prepared to cut their own throats. Even if no longer of the Depot, both Neung Je-gang and Cheong Yeon never spoke what they did not wish to.
Thus Go So-jeong learned nothing of Neung Je-gang’s ties.
While she and Cheong Yeon conversed, Majil walked sullenly behind, practicing shaping his True Fire Energy into stable forms.
Though he had gained new methods with the hidden weapons technique Neung Je-gang taught, there were still limits. His wild frenzy earlier had left him collapsed. If even one butcher had survived then, he and Go So-jeong might have died miserably.
Creating flame bombs and flinging them wastefully was powerful but consumed too much qi.
‘I’ll make a flame-sword, just like Chief said. Then he’ll teach me a good sword art. Heh-heh! And then I’ll thrash that Cheong Yeon first.’
Majil’s target was Cheong Yeon. Truthfully, he had felt crushed the moment they met. Despite knowing Fire, Metal, and Earth, he hadn’t dared challenge him. Whatever Cheong Yeon had learned in the Black Alliance gave off a chilling aura he hadn’t felt even back in Beijing.
‘And why does he still call him Chief? Damn sly dog!’
Majil was jealous. He had thought no one else belonged at Neung Je-gang’s side. But Cheong Yeon seemed to be sliding in, and if not, why else still call him Chief?
‘Chief told him not to, yet he still does—it reeks of a scheme.’
Dislike bred more dislike. Majil convinced himself Cheong Yeon approached Neung Je-gang with some hidden plot.
Not once did it cross his mind that this was simply jealousy.
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