The Black Market Incident (3)

The instant my eyes met the man’s, my mind went blank.

Why was someone here?

No—more than that, how did I fail to sense his presence?

I had to subdue him fast.

If he so much as shouted, it was over.

But the man drew his sword before I could rush him.

Chaaang!

Drawing his blade, he barked—quietly.

“Who goes there?!”

I paused, puzzled.

Quietly? Why?

Shouldn’t he shout to summon the guards?

Then the bedding beside the naked man wriggled, and from beneath it a woman—also naked—peeked out.

She was a beautiful young woman with a youthful face.

Seeing me, she let out a small, startled cry.

“My dear! Shut the door quickly! The sound will carry outside!”

Huh? Shut the door? The sound would carry outside?

Hearing that much, I glanced back at the door behind me.

I clearly felt both of them flinch.

Well now—look at these two.

I snapped the door shut.

At once, I felt the outside noises cut off completely.

Perfect soundproofing.

And when the door closed, the man and woman both wore relieved expressions—enough for me to guess the situation.

The man, calmer now, leveled his sword at me and shouted,

“What are you doing here?! How dare you sneak into the Black Market Master’s quarters in a mask! Thief, are you?!”

Well, a thief, yes.

But you two aren’t exactly in a place to say that, are you?

I chuckled and replied,

“A man rutting with the Master’s concubine in the Master’s own room hardly has the standing to object.”

The man’s face drained white in an instant.

He stammered,

“A-are you someone Father sent? D-did you know from the start?”

Father, huh?

Then this guy was—

I smiled, cold.

“Go Mu-sang! Do you know your sin?!”

He was so shocked he stumbled back and collapsed onto the bed.

He muttered, blank-eyed,

“T-this can’t be… how…?”

Correct.

This was Go Mu-sang, son of Go Ju-yong.

The very one who, after Go Ju-yong’s death, flew into a rage and killed Ma Jong-hwan’s daughters.

When I’d heard that story, I thought him so filial—turns out he was screwing his father’s concubine behind his back.

Just then—

The woman, pale as well, twisted into a vicious scowl and screamed,

“My dear! We’re not exposed yet! Kill him! Then there’ll be no evidence!”

At her words, Go Mu-sang snapped to.

He thrust his sword out again, eyes blazing at me.

The woman urged from the side,

“Hurry and kill him! Do it before anyone outside notices!”

Before anyone outside noticed.

That’s… very helpful, actually?

Grinning, I spun and grabbed the door latch. Both the man and woman shrieked at once.

“No!”

Go Mu-sang hurled himself forward, stabbing for my back with desperate force.

“Die!”

Swhik!

Judging by his skill, he was about mid first-rate.

If we met head-on, he wouldn’t be easy to subdue—but in such frantic haste?

I could only be grateful.

With a slight twist, I slipped past his blade and used that turning force to cut as I drew.

Shaak!

“Khuk!”

My sword lightly grazed his throat as he lunged with all his strength.

His eyes bulged in disbelief as he collapsed.

From his half-severed neck, blood spurted late.

I considered merely subduing him, but in both my past life and his present reputation, he wasn’t worth keeping alive.

Better to kill when I could.

As I dispatched Go Mu-sang without hesitation, the concubine froze, face stricken with terror.

“H-how could you… the Master’s son…?”

Then, realizing something, she cried,

“You’re not sent by the Master, are you?!”

I was a little impressed.

Sharp mind—devious sharp.

Then, for whatever reason, she threw off the covers and rose.

Her naked, bewitching figure filled my view.

She quickly smiled seductively and said,

“Listen. If you’re not the Master’s man, then take me with you. I’ve been held here by force. If you get me out, I’ll repay you by becoming your woman.”

With dewy eyes and tragic tone, she looked like a suffering heroine.

I might almost have fallen for it.

If she hadn’t just been screeching for my death with that venomous face.

Thunk!

My unhesitating thrust pierced her heart; she stared at me in disbelief and crumpled.

Had she been a bit less sly, I might have debated it—but I wouldn’t leave a snake like that alive.

I was suddenly glad Captain Seol Pung hadn’t come this way.

If it were him, he’d know it was a lie and still flounder just because she was a woman—unable to finish it.

That damned fear of women.

After that, I took the inner passage within the room and descended to the Master’s private second-floor vault—accessible only from here.

Long story short: I struck out.

Once inside, I realized this vault wasn’t a place to confine people.

Still, I wasn’t disappointed.

If anything, I whistled in admiration.

“Fweee—fancy.”

My eyes were about to pop at the goods on display.

Gold notes, bullion, jewels; weapons that looked exceedingly rare; and even piles of elixirs stacked high.

So this bastard Go Ju-yong had this many elixirs stuffed in his vault and still coveted another’s, causing all that trouble.

My eyes gleamed as I took it in.

“Well now, look at this.”

Meanwhile, finding his way to the dungeon was not hard for Seol Pung.

Of all places, the dungeon’s security was overwhelming.

But precisely because it was so tight, sneaking in like Seonu Jin had was difficult.

After a brief thought, Seol Pung gave up on stealth.

The building was ground level, but reportedly held cells down to three basement floors.

Six sentries guarded the entrance at all times, and four more circled the dungeon like meshing gears, rotating shifts.

Seol Pung hid in the shadows and waited.

Crouched like a beast, he sprang the instant one sentry rounded a corner—straight at the gate guards like a flying tiger.

PAPAK!

By the time the guards realized something had hit them, Seol Pung’s fists and feet were already smashing their heads.

“Wha—!”

“Th—!”

BABABABABAK!

All six collapsed unconscious in the space of a heartbeat.

Seol Pung didn’t stop there.

He dashed toward the opposite corner from where the sentry had gone.

A guard just rounding back widened his eyes in shock.

“Wha—!”

Thud!

He, too, made no sound.

Dropping him, Seol Pung whipped around the corner and ran the patrol route in reverse, knocking out the rest. One full circuit took barely three breaths.

He hesitated, debating whether to kill them, then shook his head and tossed them all into the first cell inside.

Living on the Front, killing came too easily to him.

Precisely for that reason, he tried not to kill unless he had to.

Fight monsters, yes—but he would not become one.

Locking them in, Seol Pung asked the other prisoners on the ground floor,

“Are Ma Jong-hwan the Living-Dead Eccentric’s two daughters here?”

The inmates—who’d been wide-eyed since he’d thrown the guards into cells—shouted over one another,

“N-no such people! Just get me out!”

“Right! No women here, as far as I know! Hero, who are you?! I, Noh Sang-won, the Middle-Mountain Chivalrous Blade, am a man without shame before Heaven! If you free me, I will repay—!”

“Great hero!”

“Great hero!”

They clamored.

Seol Pung gave a wry smile and said,

“If you keep shouting like that, I’ll leave without freeing anyone.”

At his words, everyone gasped and fell silent.

Seonu Jin had said:

On the first level, mostly petty offenders; on the second and third basements, those who opposed the Black Market.

When Seol Pung asked what to do with them, Seonu Jin had answered casually,

‘Just free them. If the Black Market locked them up, odds are there are more good people than bad. And even if some are bad, if the Black Market could catch them, they’re not all that dangerous.’

The thought of possibly releasing bad men didn’t sit well with Seol Pung.

But sorting them one by one wasn’t feasible timewise.

He told the prisoners,

“I’ll free you, certainly. But only after I check the lowest level. Until I return, keep quiet so no one notices.”

They went mouse-still, and Seol Pung descended.

In the end, he also struck out.

The two daughters weren’t in the dungeon.

Instead, he freed all those on the third basement who had been imprisoned for opposing the Black Market.

Among them was Jong Won-ik, head of the Killing Council—a group formed by those who had lost families or been ruined by the Black Market.

With tears in his eyes, Jong Won-ik thanked him.

“Thank you! Without you, I’d have died in here like the rest, unable to avenge my wife and children on those Black Market dogs! I’ll never forget this grace!”

Ascending, Seol Pung released those on the second and first floors as well.

It was, of course, to free the unjustly held—but also to plunge the Black Market into chaos.

In such confusion, they would never discover who had done this.

In the orthodox world, women who surpassed the pinnacle in their twenties were called Phoenixes. In the unorthodox circles, young women who surpassed the pinnacle were given the title “Magpie.”

Among them, Ya Un-hyang—the Blood-Whip Xi Shi, also called the Infernal Magpie—had been employed by the Black Market for six months.

She had done little here.

As with most who hired her, Master Go Ju-yong hadn’t hired her for her martial might, but because he wanted to share a night with her.

But though Ya Un-hyang was a free-spirited unorthodox woman, she wasn’t easy.

Unless she fancied a man, she would not lie with him.

So there was no way she’d allow anything with that old goat Go Ju-yong.

As long as she was under their banner, refusing his persistent advances could have caused trouble—but she didn’t fret.

She always took payment in advance for exactly such situations.

If a client tried anything too brazen, she returned the fee and left.

By that measure, Go Ju-yong hadn’t been the worst employer so far. At least he hadn’t tried to force her.

At least, until now.

But watching what he did to the Living-Dead Eccentric, she was disgusted.

Backstabbing a man he’d just traded with and seizing his family for leverage—he hadn’t done anything to her yet, but clearly he was capable.

Even as unorthodox as she was, she believed there were human lines you did not cross.

So she refused the order to hunt Ma Jong-hwan and stayed.

And she had already decided to leave this place.

‘I’ll go as soon as Go Ju-yong returns.’

Honestly, she’d considered killing him and taking Ma Jong-hwan’s pills herself.

But she restrained herself; she wouldn’t do what he had done—betray a recent employer.

Now Ya Un-hyang was walking toward the rear of the compound.

Because a ruckus at the main gate had drawn everyone’s attention.

With manpower already thin, the rear would be very vulnerable like this.

Not that she cared enough about the Black Market to defend it—

But while hired, she did her job.

“Hm?”

Her ear caught a brief stir from the dungeon side.

It was only a moment—but that made it more suspicious.

When she went to check, the sentries at the front were gone.

Something had definitely happened.

She thought to call people, but there weren’t many to call and it was far; she decided to handle it alone.

Just then, people poured out of the dungeon.

Ragged clothes, beaten looks—prisoners, without doubt.

“Hmmm.”

She’d wondered—turns out something really had happened.

A pain in the neck.

She murmured in a languid voice,

“Work is work.”

The black steel whip coiled around her slim waist writhed like a living snake, then shot out and lashed the ground before the dungeon.

Shraaaash!

“Uwaaagh! Wh-what?!”

“What is that?!”

The fleeing prisoners froze where they stood.

The lash mark gouged the earth as if a dragon had passed.

In her lazy voice, Ya Un-hyang told them,

“Stop there. If you don’t move, I won’t kill you.”

Under the moonlight, their gazes rose to her face—dreamy, mysterious; her skintight black garb outlining a devastating figure; the black steel whip coiling and writhing about her like a living thing. In Jiangnan, there were few who did not know her name.

Someone swallowed and whispered,

“Blood-Whip Xi Shi.”

“Blood-Whip Xi Shi, Ya Un-hyang.”

She said, languidly,

“Sorry, but while I’m hired, escapes are a problem. If you quietly return to your cells, I’ll pretend I saw nothing.”

As she spoke, the black whip that circled her body smashed the ground again with crushing force.

KWHOOOOOM!

The impact was so immense that smoke rose from the deep trench.

Displaying such overwhelming skill as if it were nothing, Ya Un-hyang warned in her signature languid tone,

“But if you resist, I can’t help it.”

Blood-Whip Xi Shi.

She was as beautiful as Xi Shi, but her black whip had been soaked in blood—thus the epithet.

In particular, the night she exterminated the master of Heukgal Bang, ruler of Yizhou in Guangxi Province, along with his officers—after they tried to drug and violate her—was still legend among Jiangnan’s women warriors years later.

The prisoners, eager to escape, met her—and froze, nailed in place—when a man in a black mask stepped slowly out from among them.

Seol Pung.

Ya Un-hyang’s eyes glinted at the sight of him.

“Black-clad mask? So you’re the mastermind behind this.”

At her words, the black whip coiling around her began to undulate like a dragon once more.

She had immediately sensed Seol Pung would be no easy foe.

But unlike Ya Un-hyang, whose dreamy eyes now sparked with fighting spirit, Seol Pung’s gaze only grew darker.

Of all things—it was a woman.

Damn it.