Chapter 205: An Awl in a Bag (5)

“Success!”

Mo Yonggun’s eyes lit up.

Je Gal Munho, rarely, showed a visibly excited expression.

“Yangcheon accepted the operational team’s request. We received word that he’s on the move—so by now, he should already have entered that area.”

“Now it’s real.”

Mo Yonggun’s expression turned grave.

“Now it’s real. If anything goes wrong, the entire operational team could die on the spot.”

“Of course, that can happen.”

Mo Yonggun glanced at Je Gal Munho. For some reason, he didn’t look very worried.

“Aren’t you worried?”

“Being worried won’t make someone who should die live, or someone who should live die. Right now is the time to feel relieved that something that could have turned rather violent is proceeding more smoothly than expected.”

Mo Yonggun let out a short laugh.

“That’s true, too.”

It really did make him think Je Gal Munho was someone of substance.

The operational team included a daughter he cherished. And yet he was openly showing joy like this.

Whether it was sincere, or deliberate acting, it was clear he wasn’t ordinary.

“Still, it’s right to worry. Every one of the Thirteen Seats of the Sacred Heavens is inhuman.”

“That’s true.”

“With martial arts at their level, just seeing an opponent once would be enough to tell what martial arts he learned, the traits of those arts, and even what purpose they were created for.”

Je Gal Munho, who had been visibly excited, gradually calmed.

“It’s a realm I still can’t comprehend, but I’ve certainly heard as much.”

That was the same for Mo Yonggun.

They had broken through the wall of martial arts and reached the Transcendent Peak, then endured countless refinements and realizations within that realm until they arrived where they were now.

But even if someone built a realm that lofty, the path of martial arts had no end. Mo Yonggun, and Je Gal Munho as well, couldn’t understand even a fragment of the realm of the Sacred Heavens.

At least, not yet. That was certainly true.

“I don’t know about the others, but there are two who are the most dangerous.”

Je Gal Munho’s eyes gleamed.

“The Hu Gae, and the Tang Clan Lord’s eldest daughter.”

“You’ve seen it precisely. And if we must choose just one of the two, the Hu Gae has the higher risk of being discovered.”

A look of puzzlement rose on Je Gal Munho’s face. On that point, his thinking differed.

“Why do you think that? I would say Tang Sang-a—the child—is more dangerous.”

“The Tang Clan’s martial arts aren’t well known to the world. The names of their arts are famous enough that everyone recognizes them the moment you bring them up, but among those who have actually seen the Tang family’s martial arts, there are almost no survivors. Especially if they’re Dark Path men.”

That was true.

Mo Yonggun’s gaze deepened.

“On the other hand, the Beggars’ Union has spread to every corner of the Central Plains. The martial arts of the ordinary beggars—those with few knots—are contemptibly insignificant, but those insignificant arts piled up and piled up until they became what the Beggars’ Union martial arts are today.”

“That’s right.”

“The martial arts the ordinary beggars learned and the martial arts the Hu Gae learned will be worlds apart. But with the Fighting King’s eyes, he’ll be able to read the core of the martial arts within that extreme difference.”

Je Gal Munho nodded.

“That’s a reasonable point.”

Interest surfaced on Mo Yonggun’s face.

“Judging by your reaction, Strategist, it seems you aren’t too concerned about problems like that.”

Je Gal Munho smiled.

“Because we prepared in advance.”

“Oh?”

“Even someone at my level doesn’t find it difficult to read a person’s qi and guess at his martial lineage. Let alone the Fighting King.”

“So you put countermeasures in place.”

“There are many mysterious objects in the world. And my clan has always taken interest in objects steeped in mystery and legend.”

“That’s unexpected. Are you saying the Je Gal Clan, which pursues reason and the blossoming of wisdom, concerned itself with objects so difficult to understand?”

Je Gal Munho gave a bitter smile.

“If something is hard to understand, it only stokes the curiosity of our scholars to dig until we do understand it.”

Mo Yonggun smiled faintly.

“Still, I find it a bit disappointing. If you had such an item, shouldn’t you have told me, the commander of this operation?”

Je Gal Munho lowered his head.

“About that, I’m sorry.”

He offered no other reason—only that he was sorry.

Mo Yonggun was inwardly surprised by that reaction.

He’s quite forthright. It doesn’t seem deliberate.

Je Gal Munho was a man who drew a clear line between public and private matters. If he hadn’t told him because he didn’t trust him? That would never be the reason.

Growing curious, Mo Yonggun prodded him once more.

“Do you not trust me, then?”

Je Gal Munho shook his head.

“Mo Yonggun is certainly not someone I can personally trust. But with everything entrusted to you now, I have no intention of letting personal feelings interfere with the mission, either.”

“Hmm.”

“As you said, the operational team includes my inadequate little daughter. For my daughter’s safety, if nothing else, I intend to help with everything I can.”

It was a voice filled with sincerity.

Mo Yonggun watched him in silence, then smiled.

“Whether that item existed or not, the plan likely wouldn’t have changed much. Still, I’d like it if this didn’t happen again.”

“I’ll take it to heart. Once again, I offer my apologies.”

That was enough.

Smiling, Mo Yonggun rose from his seat.

“Now, then. I’ll step out for a bit.”

A puzzled look rose on Je Gal Munho’s face.

“Where are you going?”

“Ah. I didn’t tell you, did I.”

“......?”

With his hands clasped behind his back, Mo Yonggun stared out the window.

“When was it... yes, right before the operational team departed. Commander Yeon said this to me.”

“.......”

“He asked if I wouldn’t go with him. He said if we combined forces, the chance of mission success would be far higher.”

Je Gal Munho let out a short laugh.

Truly—his nerve is a work of art.

It was probably half a joke, half serious.

He would never have actually thought Mo Yonggun would follow. It was likely a warning—spoken to keep Mo Yonggun from stirring up the Alliance while Yeon was away from the Alliance of the Martial World.

Even if he’s an enemy, that’s not something you casually say to someone like Mo Yonggun. You—reckless words are poison.

Then Mo Yonggun spoke.

“But when I thought about it...”

“......?”

“Wasn’t Commander Yeon’s point reasonable?”

In that instant, surprise filled Je Gal Munho’s face.

“You mean...?”

“Hahaha. I was feeling stifled anyway. Even if I can’t provide proper help, there’s no harm in having faster, more certain orders and reporting.”

“Do you truly intend to go there?”

Mo Yonggun smiled.

“You may not know what to make of me, but in my younger days, I traveled the world in my own way and learned many things.”

“......!”

“To relive my youth a little, and to lend strength to the operational team... it doesn’t seem like a bad thing for me to go in person.”

It wasn’t merely “not bad.”

For the commander of an operation to act alongside the field agents nearby was a major advantage in many ways. It was only that Mo Yonggun’s position and the weight of his name as an Alliance 봉공 had made it difficult to propose.

But he was saying he would go himself? Mo Yonggun, of all people?

It couldn’t be better—

In Je Gal Munho’s eyes, still full of astonishment, a thread of tension fell.

Which is why it’s even stranger.

Mo Yonggun was not the type to step onto the front lines.

In the first place, he was someone who had never planned to. Yet now, out of nowhere, he had changed his mind and said he would go personally into a place crawling with Dark Path forces—how could anyone not suspect something?

As if he had read Je Gal Munho’s suspicion, Mo Yonggun spoke in a cheerful voice.

“Don’t worry too much. Like you, Strategist, I also intend to do my best—for this operation, at least.”

Je Gal Munho studied Mo Yonggun’s complexion for a moment, then rose and gave a cupped-fist salute.

“Thank you for your decision. Just in case, at the level of the Alliance, we can provide attendants—”

“No. That won’t be necessary. Adding people will only draw the Dark Path bastards’ attention.”

Mo Yonggun turned away.

The look in his eyes as he turned was truly strange—woven through with countless emotions: excitement, anticipation, ambition, desire, tension, and more.

“We depart in half an hour. Strategist, make sure the permit is delivered in advance so there’s no issue with my departure from the Alliance.”

*****

“......Hn.”

Yangcheon, seated in a Grand Preceptor Chair, slowly opened his eyes.

Was that a dream.

It had been a long time since he’d dreamed.

And that dream, the moment he woke, gifted him a truly filthy mood.

He flinched and, without meaning to, pressed a hand to his chest.

It’s still hot.

A fierce throbbing that didn’t show on his skin—something only Yangcheon could feel.

A force whose origin was impossible to grasp was, today, rampaging more roughly than ever.

In Yangcheon’s eyes, a firelike Killing Intent flickered.

Perverse Lust.

The bright smile of the one who introduced himself as the God of Perverse Lust.

And the savage, pure evil hidden behind that innocent face—along with absolute martial arts.

CRUNCH!

His left hand crushed the chair’s armrest to splinters.

Have I still not escaped it.

The strength of the one who called himself the God of Perverse Lust was still tormenting him even now.

If it was an internal injury, it could be called one—yet it also wasn’t something that could be called an internal injury. It didn’t hinder his martial arts, and it didn’t affect his health.

It was {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} only that sticky, disgusting heat—unique to it—would, at times, shove his mood straight into the mud.

Disgusting bastard.

As he recalled that time, Yangcheon had no choice but to admit it: even now, he was still obsessed with that contest.

And that obsession-filled heart was the cause of this chest pain that wasn’t truly pain.

Where in the world did that bastard—no, where did those bastards—come from.

Did they descend from the sky? Did they burst up from the ground?

After he stepped into the world and formed his resolve, Yangcheon studied and memorized everything—Central Plains history, beyond-the-frontier forces, even the major figures.

Because he couldn’t tolerate even the smallest variable, he poured effort into building knowledge as much as he did into completing martial arts. He was confident that the effort he put in back then surpassed even the scholars of the Je Gal Clan.

And within that knowledge, piled and piled again—

The moment he reached toward a single world that was dangerous beyond measure, they appeared.

......You’ll make me a king?

Mockery settled over Yangcheon’s face.

Ridiculous bastards. In just a few months I became the king of the Dark Path and took an entire region into my hands—did you really think I needed your pathetic power?

Originally, he had never intended to execute his plan this quickly.

But then, out of nowhere, the Alliance of the Martial World was founded, and the Dark Path sects shrank under the impact. In the middle of that, pressure also came from that twisted religion’s side.

He didn’t particularly want to bother with them, but support funds that far surpassed imagination were alluring enough. And as they claimed, the more time passed, the harder it would become to unify the Dark Path at all.

So Yangcheon took the first step of the grand unification of the Dark Path that he had planned for decades.

No—rather than taking a step, it would be more accurate to say he began planting flags along a road he was already walking.

Still—

Yangcheon smiled.

Now it finally feels like I’m living.

He was a man with vast ambition. His patience, too, ran deep—deep enough that he endured and studied for decades to make that ambition real.

Now, the time had come to fulfill that will.

To become the master of the world by passing through the three stages—division, seizure, and unification of all under heaven.

At that moment, a voice came from outside the door.

“Manor Lord. The Martial Ancestor Sect descendants have arrived at the Manor.”