Living-Dead Eccentric (1)

Slowly—very slowly.

I breathed as if time itself had stopped.

I was up in the tree, hidden among thick leaves, while four Black Market warriors were passing beneath.

At best, they were second-rate to low first-rate.

I could beat them head-on.

But I chose to wait.

If possible, I had to do this without a sound.

One step. Two. Three.

They were just under me now.

When the last man passed, I dropped upside-down without a whisper.

Shaak!

Flipping in midair, my blade skimmed the rearmost man’s carotid.

“Guk!”

Psssh!

As a jet of blood fountained from his neck, my sword was already cutting for the two ahead.

“Wha—!”

“Urk—!”

Swiish!

Their eyes found me—but too late.

Their throats were already open.

The lead man turned, saw me, and gaped to shout.

“Enem—!”

But my sword Black Wolf was already sunk to the hilt in his heart.

Puuuk!

“Keurk!”

As the light left his eyes and he collapsed, I drew the blade out, smooth as if from tofu.

A second’s admiration for my new sword’s keenness—and I moved on.

We hadn’t found the Living-Dead Eccentric’s trail yet, and until we did, I meant to trim every Black Market force I ran into.

A few hours earlier, after leaving the Guandi Shrine, we split into two teams again.

One: Bae Jonggwan staying at an inn to protect the Eccentric’s children.

The other: the captain, Bi Sayoung, and me, heading to rescue the Eccentric himself.

‘Jonggwan, this part needs stealth. Captain, Sayoung, and I will go. You guard his children so they aren’t kidnapped again.’

The captain nodded and added,

‘Agreed. Since your inner power just surged, you should circulate and settle it. I’ll teach you a Moon-Saber set—train that.’

With the elixirs, Bae Jonggwan had amassed over forty years of inner energy—finally meeting the conditions to step into first-rate.

The three of us raced like the wind to the Guizhou–Guangxi border where the Black Market was hunting Ma Jong-hwan.

From Heungin in Guizhou, the Eccentric had fled southeast toward Guangxi.

Like Yunnan, this region was jungle and rolling hills; the Black Market men were clearly struggling to search it.

So Master Go Ju-yong had spread his many forces wide, encircling likely areas and tightening the noose slowly.

We split three ways, shadowing them from different directions to sniff out the Eccentric’s path.

‘Find him if you can, and punch holes in their encirclement whenever the situation allows.’

‘Got it. Be careful—especially you, Sayoung. Don’t overdo it.’

‘Heng, I’m first-rate now too. No need to worry so much, Captain.’

Hence my current work: moving in silence and knifing through Black Market squads.

The captain was surely razing another wing by now.

I was a little uneasy about Bi Sayoung, but he had stepped into first-rate and packed a full One Jia of inner power; no one could catch him if he chose to run—not even a pinnacle master.

Moving quietly again, I spotted more Black Market men ahead.

Roughly a dozen—more than before.

I lowered myself in the brush and crept forward like a tiger closing on prey.

The Bijong Sect’s Thousand Wind Steps, at its peak, makes you air itself; even short of that realm, I made not the slightest rustle.

I gauged their levels.

Mostly second-rate to low first-rate; the leader looked mid first-rate.

That wasn’t the issue.

If I rushed a reckless ambush and one of them signaled nearby teams, we’d be in trouble.

As I weighed it, my eye fell to the leather pouch at my belt.

I smiled.

Decision made.

A small gamble—with my pretty friends.

Judging the distance, I aimed the pouch’s mouth into the air.

I pried it open—

Two snakes shot out like arrows.

Pip-ping!

Ever since the Poison Forest, I’d been raising these Three-Color Arrow-Snakes.

I watched them arc high and fall.

My aim was true.

My darlings dropped right over the heads of the searching Black Market men.

Jeong Mosu, captain of the Black Market’s Outer Hall Forward Squad, was furious to his core.

Everything rankled.

The Living-Dead Eccentric, who’d left not a shadow for days; the Master who sent them thrashing through jungle to catch him; the sweltering heat; the whining mosquitoes.

Nothing failed to annoy.

So he vented on his subordinates.

“Move sharper, you idiots! We catch him faster, we get home faster—got it?!”

He was no sharper himself, and he knew his men had no outlet for their own frustration—but he didn’t care.

Just then—

Something thumped down from the sky beside his exhausted men.

One of them glanced over—and screamed.

“Uaagh! A snake!”

“W-what the—?!”

They leapt back from the spot.

Two snakes coiled on the ground, flicking tongues and facing them.

Jeong Mosu had flinched, too.

But habit made him snap first.

“You fools! Two snakes and you panic?! Catch them—now!”

“…”

Scowling, the men edged back in—

The snakes fired like arrows.

Shwik!

Thud!

“Uwaaa! Wh-what?!”

“D-did it bite you?!”

By the time they recovered, the snakes’ fangs were already sunk in two men.

The rest stumbled back in a rush.

But the bitten men could not.

Their faces blackened; they toppled and frothed at the mouth.

“D-did you see that?! The snake shot like an arrow!”

“H-how—he went black the instant it bit him?!”

Terrified, they dared not approach.

Nor did Jeong Mosu, though he shouted from afar,

“You idiots! Grab those snakes! You want your brothers to die?!”

“B-but, Captain!”

When no one moved despite his order, Jeong Mosu glared—

And saw him.

A handsome young man, ghost-silent behind his men, cutting throats from their backs.

Shuaaaak!

His sword fanned out like a vision.

“Urk—!”

“Ghk—!”

“Gueeerk—!”

In a heartbeat, the fan of blades blossomed, and men fell, blood spraying.

“Wh-what are—!”

Jeong Mosu yanked for his sabre.

But the stranger’s sword reached him first.

Pshuk!

The man’s face rushed up large in his vision; a prick on his neck—and suddenly the blue sky filled his eyes.

The last thing he saw.

I lopped the leader’s head off and chuckled, glancing at Black Wolf.

Lopping a neck felt like cutting grass.

The blade was spotless—no blood clung.

“A demon blade indeed.”

Murmuring, I scanned around.

I’d thrown hidden weapons at three farther men—time to confirm.

All dead on the spot.

Two felled by the Arrow-Snakes, six by sword, three by hidden weapons.

To give them no time even to shout—good result.

Better, even, than the end of my last life.

At last, I’d surpassed the old me.

Not that it means much—I wasn’t pinnacle then—but this time, I might climb that realm.

Assuming I don’t die out of nowhere.

Sheathing Black Wolf, I strode to those dying of snake venom, pinched each serpent by the neck, and slipped them back into the pouch.

They never withdraw their fangs until the target stops breathing—makes retrieval easy.

“Good work, pretties.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

How could snakes be this cute?

They were certainly prettier than Diancang Sword Viper Ju Taegyeong.

Well, he’s useless; my little darlings helped topple Blood-Seeking Demon General Ji Gwang-ok—no contest.

Sure, they’d tried to bite me when we met—but who cared about the past?

Pretty now was what mattered.

With that cheerful thought, I moved on in silence.

If possible, I wanted to find the Eccentric before the Black Market did.

After another couple of hours, something changed.

Peeeeeep!

From up ahead came a sharp signal whistle.

They must’ve spotted him.

Pababak!

I abandoned stealth and sprinted full tilt.

Scenery blurred past—another reminder I’d grown stronger.

After about a quarter-hour—

I saw a crowd ahead.

Black Market men had driven a lone figure toward a sheer cliff, hemming him in.

I slowed and hid quickly.

Thirty to forty men—and their leader looked dangerous.

A man in black in his forties laughed, sounding relieved.

“Hah-hahaha! At last, Living-Dead Eccentric! After making us suffer so long, you end up caught anyway! I ought to kill you now, but by Big Brother’s order I’ll only break your legs!”

Big Brother, huh…

The Black Market had four pinnacle masters—the “Four Heavenly Kings”—with Go Ju-yong among them, all sworn as brothers.

For a backcountry sect, that was shocking.

I’d grown numb on the Front, but pinnacle masters aren’t common—in most regions, one such man rules an entire prefecture like a king.

‘Guizhou’s capital, Guiyang, was an exception; with the Seonu Clan and other sect leaders, there were a dozen pinnacles. The Nine Great Sects or the Martial Alliance might boast scores, and Ten Thousand Demon Cult up north was said to have hundreds—but those are exceptions; hence their renown.’

In short, pinnacle masters were rare and precious in the martial world.

No wonder Lady Cheong-yeon had gaped at Flying Dragon Thirteenth boasting five pinnacles in their twenties.

And no wonder Blood Cult arts that rocketed one to pinnacle tempted so many.

Of all times… a pinnacle showed up where I was alone, and he found the Eccentric before I did?

With forty men at his back.

I hesitated.

What should I do?

They were pressing the Eccentric toward the dead-end cliff even now.

Left alone, he’d be taken—but I saw no clever move.

Then—

From behind me—my back-trail—came the footfalls of men running.

Not light; about second-rate. Likely Black Market warriors.

Three of them, hurrying this way.

Men rushing from the direction I’d come—clear what that meant.

Damn. They found the bodies I left.

A sour taste.

Worst timing to have my presence exposed.

I almost turned back to link up with Captain Seol Pung.

Then a thought struck me.

Hm. If I played this right…