Kinds Of Power (6)

Would this be how it feels to be struck by sudden lightning?

From crown to toes, something cold yet burning seemed to lance through him.

Looking at the bloodless Gwan Hong, Lee An slowly spoke.

“Hall Master of the Sichuan Branch Finance Hall, Gwan Hong.”

“!!”

“Not answering?”

The Investigation and Defense Court was organized to uphold public order.

Among its ranks, the Chief Constable stood just below the Court Head and Deputy Court Head. In terms of the Sichuan Branch, it was a post equivalent to Oh Byung-chan, the General Commander.

Of the Left and Right Chief Constables, the Left Chief Constable, Lee An, was the more senior, effectively third in the Sichuan Investigation and Defense Court.

Even a Finance Hall Master watched his tongue. In the money-ruled Sichuan, they could posture a little, but in the central provinces, a Chief Constable’s authority could knock birds from the sky.

Seeing Gwan Hong still silent, Lee An continued,

“As of this moment, we arrest Gwan Hong—rank-four tax officer and Finance Hall Master of the Sichuan Branch. He will be transferred to the Investigation and Defense Court’s main gaol, all visitation is prohibited.”

Lee An drew a red baton from his belt.

“Anyone who shelters the criminal or obstructs the arrest will be deemed to share his charges and will likewise be apprehended. This is an order issued as Left Chief Constable of the Investigation and Defense Court.”

His voice carried a terrible authority.

It was the pressure only a high-ranking constable with deep field experience could wield—honed by years of hauling villains in alongside Seo Jong-dam.

“N-no.”

Unconsciously, Gwan Hong backed away a few steps.

“T-this is a setup! That weasel framed me—!”

“We verified your entries in the copy. In your own words with a civilian you acknowledged taking bribes, and in your exchange with General Commander Oh you admitted to crimes the world does not yet know.”

Lee An leveled the red baton at him.

Saaak!

Mist-like energy streamed from the tip, binding Gwan Hong’s limbs.

His face went pale.

Packed with powerful internal energy, the baton radiated crushing pressure. Being aimed at by the red baton alone rattled his breath.

“If he flees, a kill-on-escape order is authorized.”

Meaning they were licensed to kill if he ran.

This was an order from the Left Chief Constable himself. If he ran, every Sichuan constable would hunt him.

‘What is this?’

Gwan Hong couldn’t think straight.

His mind went white. He no longer knew what to say or do.

Lee An ordered the man standing to his right,

“Bind the criminal.”

“Yes.”

A senior-rank constable started toward Gwan Hong.

Just then—

Kwaang!

The ceiling’s edge burst and an older man dropped like lightning onto the scene. Instructor Gong, Gong Du.

As soon as he broke through, he hurled two small beads. Anyone could see they were dangerous.

Seo Jong-dam, who’d been suppressing his presence in a corner, sprang like thunder.

Zoom!

Before the beads could land, his supple force flicked them back to the ceiling.

In the split-second of distraction—

Gong Du flashed to the front of Gwan Hong, and dropped another bead at their feet.

As Oh Byung-chan lunged for the bead and Gong Du’s left hand snatched for Gwan Hong’s shoulder—

Peoeok!

Jin-hyeon’s kick snapped Gong Du’s left arm up.

In that instant, their eyes met.

Paaak!

With his forward momentum, Jin-hyeon grabbed Gong Du by the collar and drove him into the floor.

Kwaang!

As they smashed through a pillar, Gong Du’s knee slammed up into Jin-hyeon’s gut.

It was such a powerful strike that it almost knocked the breath out of him. Even with his Body-Refining Qi shielding him, a sharp pain ran through his body. The impact was heavy—far too much for someone of such a small build.

Catching Gong Du’s left arm with his right, Jin-hyeon drew up his Body-Refining Qi.

Ttuduk!

A crack ran through Gong Du’s left arm.

Even with Serpent-Shark Hand engaged, it only cracked. His skin, muscle, and bone were far tougher than his looks.

It was a body tempered by deep internal energy. He couldn’t snap his neck with his Serpent-Shark Hand as is.

Peoeok!

Gong Du’s left elbow crashed into Jin-hyeon’s face.

He even attacked with a cracked arm. Pain meant little to him.

Riding the blow, Jin-hyeon spun, palmed the floor, and scythed a knee.

Ppakak!

Hit square in the chest, Gong Du grunted and hit the wall.

Righting himself instantly, Jin-hyeon swept his right arm.

A strike aimed at Gong Du’s carotid artery—his fingers, raised like a hawk’s talons, carried a chill infused with Body-Refining Qi. It was the Ten-Fingers Soul-Slaughter Art’s Eagle-Slaying Strike.

Jjiiik!

His reflexes were superb.

The killing stroke tore along his cheek as he ducked and twisted to bleed the line.

One side of his face hung ragged, yet he lived—and already drove a drawn dagger for Jin-hyeon’s solar plexus.

Even in agony he reacted, hunting vital points as naturally as breathing.

This was a true assassin. Even in the Eight Wastes Alliance days, this was the level to be counted as one.

But—

‘Still far off.’
Jin-hyeon’s left hand snatched at his wrist like a bolt of lightning.

For the first time, panic flickered in Gong Du’s eyes.

He’d aimed for a sure opening, yet the man twisted and caught the wrist of the hand holding the dagger—not through speed, but through reading his motions. Without foreseeing, no one reacts like that.

Ppakak!

Jin-hyeon’s palm snapped up his jaw.

Gong Du’s eyes went blank for an instant. A flash burst before his eyes, and his mind was half knocked out.

“Hup!”

Even though the blow landed squarely on his jaw, he held onto his senses through sheer force of breath.

Although there had been stronger assassins a century ago, not many were this tough.

Admiring his grit, Jin-hyeon smashed an elbow into his temple.

Peoeok!

It was a clean, precise strike—a decisive blow that even an assassin’s willpower couldn’t withstand.

Gong Du collapsed on the spot.

“Teacher Jin!”

“Are you alright?!”

Jin-hyeon flipped him, pressed his paralytic point, then dislocated his shoulder—so even if the point wore off, he couldn’t resist.

Swift, precise, and thorough.

Lee An couldn’t help admiring his speed. Even in his active days, he’d seldom neutralized foes that quickly.

These were the methods the former Eight Wastes Alliance Leader used to take assassins alive. In a different body they were rough, but brutally effective.

With his knee on Gong Du’s back, Jin-hyeon asked,

“Those looked like poison beads—did they detonate?”

“They didn’t. Everyone’s fine.”

“Good.”

Jin-hyeon sighed and slumped to the side.

“Sore.”

His face burned. It was the place where Gong Du’s elbow had hit.

In particular, the violent twist of his upper body left both sides of his ribs burning. Despite all his training, his muscles had still been strained in shock.

“Still, it’s better than getting stabbed.”

He thumped his sides and rose.

“Why only me!”

As if waiting, Gwan Hong burst out.

His reddened face twisted hideously.

“You all heard it! That bastard took bribes too! Why isn’t he arrested!”

His rabid eyes fixed on Oh Byung-chan.

Without a word, Lee An swung his baton.

Ppakak!

He didn’t even groan. Gwan Hong’s face swelled at once. The blow was so harsh three teeth snapped and skittered across the floor.

If there were internal energy behind that strike, his head would’ve flown. Gwan Hong’s face went chalk white.

Calm-eyed, Lee An looked down at the terrified man and ordered his men,

“Take him.”

“Yes.”

Then Gwan Hong’s gaze fell on Gong Du.

The finest insect he had.

“…It was him.”

“What?”

“He threatened me into it. It wasn’t my will. Please be lenient.”

Revulsion flickered over Seo Jong-dam’s face.

To dump his sins on a subordinate who leapt in to save him—disgusting. Even an assassin would feel hollow hearing that.

“Do you see?”

“…”

“Petty men like that swaggered about on black money.”

At Seo’s words, Lee An sighed.

“I thought too much.”

“You moved now—that’s enough.”

“No. If the Deputy Court Head hadn’t personally come to shield us from the higher-ups’ pressure, I’d still be hesitating.”

Seo Jong-dam smiled wryly.

“Don’t run yourself down—what would that make of my faith in you?”

“…”

“And I’m not the Deputy Court Head. I’m the Head Instructor.”

“Ah—apologies. Force of habit.”

“You exasperating man.”

Lee An looked around.

Most seated on the fifth floor were senior Investigation and Defense Court constables, but one had a distinct status.

The Right Chief Constable, a junior who was one year below Lee An.

“Sorry for calling you without explanation. It nearly turned dangerous.”

“…”

“But there was no other way to persuade you.”

The Right Chief Constable regarded him, then bowed stiffly.

“I’ll report to the superiors.”

“Do so.”

It couldn’t be helped. The Right Chief Constable knew how to survive in office. As a senior, Lee An felt a needless pang of guilt.

Passing the bitter-faced Lee An, he halted and said,

“Senior.”

“Go on.”

“I’ve lived comfortably, but I haven’t lived like these bastards.”

“!”

“For any discipline over bypassing the reporting chain, we’ll take it together.”

Lee An’s eyes trembled.

Only for a moment.

“Thank you.”

“Buy me a drink later.”

“I will.”

Behind the constables bustling about—

“Whew.”

Jin-hyeon refilled Oh Byung-chan’s cup. Oh Byung-chan stared at it with tired eyes.

Lee An addressed him:

“We won’t issue a separate summons, but before the Martial Examiners from the Main Office arrive, we’ll need you to stop by once.”

“…Don’t worry.”

“You’ve done well.”

He turned to Jin-hyeon:

“Won’t you go in and rest?”

“I’ll talk with the General Commander a bit first.”

“Alright. Ah, and those connected to the criminal…?”

“I’ll bring them by tomorrow.”

“Good. Come by for a meal after. I’ll give formal thanks.”

“Can anyone swallow food in a restaurant swarming with constables?”

Lee An snorted and took his leave.

Three remained, including Seo Jong-dam.

“Oof, my back.”

Seo Jong-dam sat between them.

Jin-hyeon filled his cup.

“Thanks, Teacher.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Seo looked to Oh Byung-chan:

“I knew your strategy and tactics were formidable, General Commander, but I didn’t know you could act so well.”

Oh Byung-chan closed his eyes.

“I’m a sinner too.”

“Your reputation, General Commander Oh, won’t be tarnished just because your son took a little under-the-table money out of hardship.”

“For a salaryman official not to keep his child in hand—that is a grave sin.”

Seo Jong-dam felt pained. Childless though he was, he understood.

So he couldn’t claim it wasn’t his fault. He, himself, might have done the same. He might even have bound himself and gone in.

Then Jin-hyeon said,

“Have you heard of the Merit–Fault Ledger?”

“The fault of failing to keep one’s child in line cannot be offset by merit—no matter how great the accomplishments.”

“Is that so?”

Jin-hyeon smiled.

“You aided in catching the criminal; that alone merits consideration. Still—if it weighs on you, judge for yourself.”

Watching him, Oh Byung-chan threw out a question:

“What would you do?”

“Best not ask me. I’m a man who wants no entanglement with the Heavenly Will Alliance.”

“It seems there’s nothing you won’t say in front of officials.”

“I was born this way.”

“As a man with sins, it may be rich of me to say this—but under the Heavenly Will Alliance’s rule, lawbreakers are everywhere. And I…”

“…”

“I judge it shouldn’t be so—and yet, I think it inevitable.”

Seo Jong-dam’s eyes wavered.

Oh Byung-chan confessed in a more even tone:

“The current Heavenly Will Alliance is big but hollow—that’s my view. Bullying officials are everywhere. It’s a wonder the world hasn’t flipped.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s not my place to say this, having failed to keep my child in line, but I’ve seen many like you ‘cause incidents.’”

Jin-hyeon’s eyes deepened.

Oh Byung-chan drained his cup and stood.

“Make trouble in petty ways and you’re just a profligate, do it right, and they call you a hero.”

“…”

“Just don’t live as half-baked as I have.”