Chongqing
Jang Sang-chae's head flew into the air.
Even in the moment his neck was severed, his expression carried not a trace of fear, as if he had already confirmed his victory. From the start of the fight, he had done nothing but relentlessly press forward—how could he have thought otherwise?
But Tang Mujin had realized one truth when he learned the Heart-Piercing Sword .
In a swordfight, the process doesn't matter. Only the final instant of victory matters.
It's fine to be on the defensive the whole time. It's fine even if your arms and legs are cut off.
In the end, the one who severs the opponent's neck and pierces their heart is the victor.
Jang Sang-chae's headless body dropped to its knees, then collapsed to the ground.
Silence fell over the cave.
"Uh…?"
With that short cry, confusion spread.
"The Boss is dead!"
"Run!"
"Run? We have to avenge him! Can't you see the blood pouring out?"
"He killed the Boss even in that state!"
"Idiot! You want us to just hand over all our treasure to those two? I can't do that!"
The wavering bandits' mood began to harden toward desperate resistance.
The first to realize this wasn't Tang Mujin, but Hong Geolgae. He wasn't clever, but like any beggar, his instincts were sharp.
Even while blood gushed from his hands and mouth, Hong Geolgae snatched at the pouch hanging from Tang Mujin's waist, ripping it loose.
From it, he pulled out a dozen needles, then plunged them into a medicine pouch filled with wolfsbane and rainwater.
Then, gathering the last of his inner strength, he flung them forward.
"Mancheon Hwayu! (Ten Thousand Flowers Rainfall!)"
At that shout, Tang Mujin instinctively clicked his tongue.
Not only did Hong Geolgae recite the names of techniques that existed, he even began making up names for ones that didn't.
If the technique had any real power, Tang Mujin could've overlooked it. But the way Hong Geolgae scattered the needles was clumsy, and the effect pitiful. Far from filling the sky, it couldn't even cover the cave.
Besides, how much inner strength could really be imbued into such fine needles? Most bounced harmlessly off the bandits' thin clothes.
But a few needles did pierce two of the men at the front. Their mistake was taking off their jackets while working in the rain to build the dam.
"What the hell?"
"I don't know, just kill them!"
The bandits in the back shouted, but the two struck by the needles couldn't easily move forward. Only two or three needles had hit them, yet their breathing was suddenly labored, and their legs felt heavy.
A master on the level of Jang Sang-chae might've expelled the poison with inner strength. But ordinary bandits had no such ability. They didn't even realize what was happening to them.
The two staggered forward a few steps before collapsing to the ground.
"What's wrong with them?"
"Hey, stop! Something's off with those guys!"
The two pressed their hands to the ground, gasping raggedly—hff, hff—like men suffocating. Soon foam frothed from their mouths.
"Ghk… ghk…"
They clawed at the stone floor with their bare hands, their whole bodies trembling violently. Their skin turned dark and bluish-black.
As if trying to speak, or plead for help, they reached out toward their comrades. The sight was bizarre and terrifying. Unconsciously, the bandits stepped back.
The way the two died looked too agonizing. Better to die to a blade than like that.
Unable to bear it, one of them shouted:
"Wh-what the fuck did you do to them?!"
"Poison."
Tang Mujin stepped forward as he spoke. From here, words would be his sharpest weapon.
When he held out his hand, Hong Geolgae passed him the needle case and medicine pouch.
"If you want to charge in, then do it. I can't say I'll kill you all, but at least a dozen of you will end up like that."
The bandits faltered, unwilling to approach. Yet, they didn't flee either.
Why? Tang Mujin's mind raced.
Even though their leader was dead, they couldn't run. Even in fear, they couldn't run.
Just like how, even in the pouring rain, they desperately kept building the dam.
Suddenly, he recalled something Jang Sang-chae had said.
—Plenty have tried to plunder Jang Sang-chae before.
Why mention this to the two who had stumbled into his cave?
The answer was simple.
Tang Mujin opened his mouth.
"Looks like this cave holds the treasure Jang Sang-chae gathered."
No one answered. But silence is sometimes agreement. Tang Mujin had found a way out.
If you can't have both of what you want, abandon one quickly.
"We have no interest in the treasure."
"What?"
The bandit with the eyepatch asked again, thinking they had come for plunder. A natural suspicion.
"We know you kidnapped children. We came here to rescue them, not to steal. Jang Sang-chae's treasure is none of our concern."
"Those kids aren't children of rich men or officials. You mean to say you went through all this just to save a bunch of beggar brats?"
"Yes."
The bandits wavered in disbelief.
Tang Mujin took a step back, sliding his sword into its sheath—a sign he had no intention of fighting.
"No need to doubt us. Jang Sang-chae is dead, and the treasure has no master. If you fight us, all you'll gain is the chance of dying miserably. So what will it be—fight and die? Or take the unguarded treasure and run?"
"How do we know you're not lying about wanting no treasure?"
"There's no need to worry. I'll even clear the way for you."
Tang Mujin followed their gazes.
They looked toward the brighter of the two tunnels. That must be where the treasure was.
Then the children must be in the opposite tunnel. Tang Mujin pointed toward the darker path.
"The children are this way, aren't they?"
The bandit with the eyepatch nodded. Tang Mujin stepped into the dark passage, his voice calm and steady.
"Let's go."
The bandits watched the two vanish into the darkness.
A moment later, they all scrambled toward the treasure.
So-seon sat huddled in the dark cave.
She had no idea how many days had passed since her capture. Maybe two or three. Maybe more than ten.
The cave walls and floor were cold and jagged. Small puddles dotted the ground, filling the air with the stench of damp moss.
Worse than the smell or the cold was the endless darkness. The only light she'd seen came from the bandits' torches when they brought food.
In the dark, insects often crawled over her feet or up her arms, sending chills down her body.
So-seon was used to bugs, being a beggar. But feeling their touch in the pitch dark, without knowing what they looked like, was something else entirely.
She wanted to escape right away. But she couldn't. A sturdy wooden door blocked the cave.
"Daddy… Deputy Chief…"
Whenever the fear became too much, So-seon whispered those names.
Her most dependable father.
And Hong Myeonnogae, the Central Deputy Chief of the Beggars' Sect, the strongest and highest-ranking man she knew.
"We're finished. We'll never get out alive."
A voice spoke beside her.
There were two other children in the cave, captured before her.
Which meant they had already endured the darkness long enough to lose all hope.
The two children rejected every positive thought, as if believing that abandoning hope quickly would make the suffering easier to bear.
"The demonic cultivators will eat us."
"Eat us?"
"That's what the bandits said. The evil demonic cultivators will drain our blood."
"Why would they drink blood?"
"They said drinking children's blood makes them stronger."
So-seon shuddered. Among her friends, several had already gone missing.
And not one of them had ever returned alive. So-seon knew her fate would be no different—she just didn't want to accept it.
Softly, she whispered: Deputy Chief. Daddy, Deputy Chief.
"Calling won't help. Your daddy can't beat the bandits. They have swords."
"Deputy Chief can win. The adults said Hong Myeon-nogae is the strongest man in Chongqing."
"That doesn't matter. These bandits said they're close with the Beggars' Sect."
So-seon's heart sank. Those words meant there was nowhere to turn, no hope left.
After a moment's thought, she decided to pretend she hadn't heard anything. A child needs something to cling to.
"Daddy, Deputy Chief, Daddy…"
How much time passed like that? From deep within the cave, faint movement was heard.
So-seon and the other children stiffened. It wasn't time for a meal, which meant only two possibilities: either a new child was being thrown in, or one of them was being taken out.
The former was better. The latter—just the thought of it made her shiver, imagining a demonic cultivator sucking her blood dry.
No… it won't be that.
The door burst open, and the sharp stench of blood rushed in. The children recoiled further.
A torchlight flared, shining on their faces. The long-forgotten brightness made them squirm and shrink back.
"Deputy Chief, Daddy, Deputy Chief…"
Hearing her murmur, Hong Geolgae gave a faint laugh.
"That's right. Your Deputy Chief has come."
Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae reached out their hands toward the three children. Their hands were the guides leading them out of the darkness.
When Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae emerged from the cave, the sky had cleared as if the storm had been a lie.
The bandits who had been building the dam were now scattering, clutching fistfuls of Jang Sang-chae's treasure. Perhaps someday new bandits would take root in Chongqing, but for Jang Sang-chae, this was the end.
Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae delivered the three children to the beggars beneath the bridge. Both children and parents looked as if they couldn't tell whether it was a dream or reality.
At first, all eyes were on the children. But soon, the beggars' gazes turned to Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae, whose appearances were dreadful—both of them drenched in blood from head to toe.
So Samgu and the other parents slammed their foreheads against the ground, bowing so hard it seemed their skulls might break.
"Thank you, thank you, great hero! I don't know how we can ever repay you. I have nothing, but if you give me time…"
"There's no need for payment. It's enough that the children have returned to their parents."
Leaving behind the beggars who begged to repay them somehow, Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae returned to the Shinyue Inn.
When the innkeeper saw them covered in blood, his face twisted in disgust—no doubt worried about bloodstains on his bedding. But whatever the innkeeper thought was of no concern to Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae.
Tang Mujin asked,
"What about you? What will you do now?"
"Well… I think I'll stick with you a bit longer."
It seemed Hong Geolgae secretly wished to settle in Chongqing. But now wasn't the time. With Hong Myeon-nogae of the Righteous Faction still around, who knew what he might do to him?
It had been many years, so perhaps their grudge had faded, but if the hatred was still deep, Hong Myeon-nogae might very well try to kill him.
"Do as you please."
Tang Mujin himself had no reason to refuse. Having Hong Geolgae around wasn't a bad thing. He could take care of himself, he was a fine sparring partner, and above all—they had grown rather close.
But when they opened the door to their room, a familiar face was already there. Goiyi was sprawled across the bed.
As soon as he saw them, he sat up and frowned.
"What the hell did you do to end up coming back in such rags?"
How should he answer that? Tang Mujin hesitated for a while, then shrugged.
"We just played a little rough, that's all. What about you, old man? What've you been up to these past days?"
"I was just about to tell you. And it's good Hong Geolgae is here too. Both of you, sit down."
Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae leaned in, curious about what Goiyi would say.
"I left Chongqing for a few days because something weighed on my mind."
"What was bothering you?"
Goiyi's expression grew grave as he set the mood.
"Do you know that long ago, here in Chongqing, there was a conflict between the Five Dark Factions and the Righteous Faction?"
Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae chuckled.
"Of course we know."