The Road To Hell. (1)

Gu Yang-ho could not accept the current situation.

Before him—known as the Invincible Single Blade—everyone should be humble. It had always been that way.

And yet his wrist had been grabbed—by some strange little kid wearing a straw hat, no less.

‘What the hell kind of ridiculous situation is this?’

Never in his life had Gu Yang-ho been this humiliated.

He couldn’t break the grip even when he put all his strength into his wrist; it meant he was outmatched in internal energy.

Even flustered, he took stock of the situation.

His left wrist was held, but his right hand still gripped the blade.

Should he launch a surprise strike and cut the kid down in one blow? He wasn’t sure it would work.

As he hesitated, someone’s transmitted voice echoed in his head.

• Didn’t I tell you not to tell me what to do? You’re dead now.

He knew who’d sent it.

It was the little girl who had stood before Im Pyeong-su and glared at him. She was taunting him for having his wrist held.

Anger surged, but before that a cold foreboding crossed his mind.

Where had things gone wrong?

While he hesitated, the kid in front of him spoke softly.

“A frog in a well doesn’t fear a snake. This is your last chance.”

After speaking, Yu Jinsan gently released his wrist.

Though the man had a twisted temperament, Yu Jinsan bore him no grudge and gave him one more chance.

“…”

Gu Yang-ho stood at a crossroads.

Should he swallow his pride and retreat, or hold his stance to the end?

Neither choice was easy.

‘This is maddening. Both of these brats are so rude—they look like the children of some prestigious clan…’

In wealthy clans, children are often trained from youth with Spiritual Pills.

But without real combat experience they had limits; he still judged he had a good chance.

‘No matter how much internal qi they have, they’re still pampered kids. They won’t be my match. But killing them wouldn’t benefit me…’

If a Sect raised such brutes, there would be repercussions he couldn’t ignore.

At that moment the whispering spectators made him hesitate.

“What on earth is going on?”

“The Invincible Single Blade can’t say a thing to that kid.”

“I just can’t believe it.”

Gu Yang-ho boiled with fury.

He wanted to slit the kid’s throat on the spot, but something in him forbade it; his instinct told him not to fight.

‘Damn brats. I’ll remember their faces—I’ll deal with them later.’

He sighed and slowly lowered his weapon.

His pride wounded, he decided to back down for now.

Just as he turned to leave.

• Cowardly loser. Puhihi.

It was the same girl who had provoked him earlier; absurdly, she was clutching her belly, laughing at him.

Gu Yang-ho felt dizzy.

He couldn’t hold back this time.

Wasn’t he the Invincible Single Blade who had never been defeated?

In no circumstances would he tolerate being called a coward.

“I’ll kill you little brats.”

A suffocating killing intent suddenly poured from his entire body.

Across from him, Yu Jinsan flinched in disbelief.

‘Why did he suddenly change like that?’

He had been certain Gu Yang-ho would have given up and left.

Why would the man who had just lowered his weapon suddenly prepare to strike?

He was curious but had no time to ponder—Gu Yang-ho was already swinging his blade to kill.

The blade, heavy with killing intent, arced toward his chest.

It was a surprise attack; in the past it might have rattled him. Now it seemed laughable.

To a Supreme-realm eye, the movement was as slow as a grub.

Yu Jinsan avoided the attack by simply twisting his upper body.

Paaang-!

Just as the fierce blade aura flashed over his chest, Yu Jinsan’s left hand grabbed Gu Yang-ho’s sleeve and yanked him in with a sharp pull.

Gu Yang-ho tried to resist but was helplessly hauled down.

Then Yu Jinsan’s right hand shot up and struck the side of his face with full force.

Slap-!

The blow snapped Gu Yang-ho’s neck as if it would turn.

Blood spurted from his mouth, but Yu Jinsan had no time to gloat.

Only now did Gu Yang-ho realize he had never been an opponent he could touch from the start.

“Grrk!”

Yu Jinsan didn’t follow up.

He disliked unnecessary interference and judged that an appropriate humiliation would bring him to his senses.

“Tsk. Told to stop, and yet he invited trouble.”

Yu Jinsan tossed out the scolding as if in contempt and turned away.

He had taken a few steps toward his granddaughter when.

“…?”

Suddenly he felt a chill at his back.

He didn’t need to turn to know the man he’d slapped was charging from behind.

To attack from behind—how cowardly.

But he didn’t dodge, despite knowing an ambush was coming.

Because his granddaughter had moved first.

Taat-!

Yu Seol’s figure vanished like a mirage—so fast it seemed unreal.

In an instant, Yu Seol reappeared between her grandfather and Gu Yang-ho.

Turup-!

It was the sound of her hand seizing the blade that had been coming down toward her grandfather’s head.

The martial artists around, seeing it belatedly, were shocked.

“Gasp!”

“Oh my—did she just catch that with her fingers?”

“H-how could she do that…?”

Some rubbed their eyes to check again; nothing changed.

Yu Seol gripped Gu Yang-ho’s blade with only her thumb and index finger—on a blade laced with chilling blade qi.

The most surprised was the attacker himself.

Gu Yang-ho tried to protest, but Yu Seol gave him no chance.

She hurled herself at him like lightning.

A curved instep struck his ankle.

Crack-!

“Gah!”

With a cry, Gu Yang-ho crashed down in a heap.

What crushed him more than fear was the unbearable shame of being made a laughingstock in front of everyone.

His bloodshot eyes glared at Yu Seol as if to kill.

“Die…”

For a moment no more sound came from his mouth; he opened and closed it like a goldfish.

Only Yu Jinsan knew why: he had constricted the man’s body with the momentum of the Profound Realm.

“You want to kill me?”

Everyone’s eyes widened as if they’d pop.

Suddenly Gu Yang-ho floated up into the air with a boong.

His hands clutched his own throat, legs flailing like a swimmer.

“Huff!”

“W-what is that!?”

“Is he possessed by a ghost?”

The sight of him thrashing in midair was terrifying.

Everyone’s gaze then turned to Yu Seol.

She had one hand gently extended beneath him.

To control a person with qi—especially someone at the peak of martial skill—was unthinkable.

It was a realm the onlooking martial artists couldn’t even imagine.

“I’ll give you one last chance.”

When Yu Seol lightly twisted her grip, Gu Yang-ho finally spoke.

With a deranged look he muttered over and over.

“I-I’m wrong… I’m wrong…”

It was an instinctive reply. The fear gripping his body crushed his pride.

At that moment the man dangling in the air slumped down.

His legs gave out; he couldn’t stand.

Yu Jinsan trudged up and knelt at his side.

“But you’ll have to pay for attacking me from behind.”

Gu Yang-ho looked at Yu Jinsan in despair.

“…?”

“I’ll spare you, but you have no qualification as a warrior.”

At that, Yu Jinsan’s fist aimed at Gu Yang-ho’s abdomen.

A gust of force shot from the fist and struck his dantian precisely.

Crack-!

“…”

Gu Yang-ho no longer moved; the instant his dantian was destroyed he lost consciousness.

Everyone watched intently, but no one spoke.

Their faces mixed awe, fear, and a dozen other emotions.

At some point Yu Jinsan broke the silence.

“Could you step aside for a moment? The entrance is blocked.”

The martial artists at the inn’s entrance hastily opened a path.

The servers at Yongun Inn couldn’t compose themselves.

The once-empty inn was now packed with martial artists.

All their attention focused on one place.

At a corner table sat the Yin Yang Twin Monster.

They had blocked out the surrounding noise and were in the midst of a meal.

“He was a really strange man.”

Yu Jinsan nodded in agreement; he didn’t know his granddaughter had taunted Gu Yang-ho via transmitted voice.

“He was crazy. It seemed he’d just give up and leave, but then his eyes changed and he attacked the old man—like someone had provoked him.”

Yu Seol turned her head, smiling as if she knew nothing.

“By the way, when will that man get up?”

Right beside them, a middle-aged man in a lightweight white robe lay with his head bowed.

He was the one who had introduced himself as Im Pyeong-su of the Humble One Sword.

He had been knocked unconscious by Gu Yang-ho’s blow and still hadn’t woken.

They had brought him because they had a few questions to ask.

“He’ll wake in a bit. Hurry and bring some food, child. Fish soup isn’t good when it cools.”

Yu Jinsan ladled plenty of fish and broth into his granddaughter’s bowl.

As if in repayment, Yu Seol piled duck meat into her grandfather’s bowl.

“Grandpa, eat a lot too.”

“Alright. As expected, it’s only our Seol.”

The food was generally lightly seasoned and often oily.

They ate leisurely; about half an hour later—

“…Ugh.”

With a groan Im Pyeong-su lifted his head, coming to.

Yu Jinsan slid an empty plate in front of him and said: “You awake? Eat something first. We’ll talk while you eat.”

Im Pyeong-su blinked with a dazed expression.

It was a natural reaction—he couldn’t grasp the situation.

Why was he sitting in an inn when he had been fighting Gu Yang-ho? And who were the two kids in front of him?

He moved his stiff neck and looked around.

Dozens of martial artists sat around staring intently at him.

Then he saw a few familiar faces.

They frantically signaled him with gestures.

‘What—are they telling me to shut up and just eat?’

Yu Seol smiled and casually reached out her hand.

“I didn’t give you chopsticks, Grandpa.”

At that moment Im Pyeong-su saw two chopsticks fly from the table beside them.

They stopped in midair before him and fluttered like heat haze, wriggling as if begging to be grabbed.

‘…Floating utensils? At this level, too.’

A technique beyond even his wildest imaginings.

Dumbfounded, he reflexively seized the chopsticks.

Seeing that, Yu Jinsan removed the silence barrier he had cast, allowing the surrounding conversations to be heard.

“By some chance we ended up saving your life.”

Im Pyeong-su saw the martial artists around nodding vigorously.

Unlike Gu Yang-ho, he was perceptive.

He sensed incomparable masters beyond his reach stood before him.

As he gathered his thoughts.

“The martial artists of Shaanxi call us the Yin Yang Twin Monster.”

At that, the inn murmured.

“Yin Yang Twin Monster…?”

Everyone glanced at each other, but no one had heard the name.

It made sense—Shaanxi was far from this southern region.

Not a single martial artist in the inn had been there.

Then Yu Jinsan cast his silence barrier again, and as he scooped food onto Im Pyeong-su’s plate he said: “There are a few things I’d like to ask you. Consider it payment for the food and please cooperate.”