Chapter 657

The shattered teacup spilled tea onto the floor with a soft trickle.

Crash—!

The oppressive aura caused the table to tremble violently.

“Urk…”

Under the crushing weight on his shoulders, Bumdong let out a strained grunt.

This was no ordinary presence—this was the aura of a martial master. A formidable one at that.

While struggling under the pressure, Bumdong glanced at Moyong Hee-ah. She was staring at the unexpected intruder with wide, astonished eyes. That was all.

Despite the suffocating pressure, she seemed completely unaffected.

This could only mean one thing—the person responsible for the aura was controlling it with meticulous precision, ensuring it harmed no one else.

‘Where did such a master come from?!’

Cold sweat dripped down Bumdong’s face as he steadied his inner energy. The overwhelming pressure was intense, but not entirely insurmountable.

Clenching his jaw, Bumdong summoned his strength and forced himself to stand.

Crack—!

“Gah!”

The pain was sharp, but Bumdong managed to overcome the pressure and rise to his feet. Or so it seemed—was it just his imagination, or did the pressure lessen slightly the moment he stood?

As if it had been adjusted to make it easier for him.

“Hoo…”

The moment Bumdong stood, the oppressive aura vanished like a ghost.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he cast a piercing gaze at the young man before him. What he saw made him inwardly flinch.

‘He’s…young.’

Much younger than he’d anticipated.

The person’s rugged appearance belied a youthful face—barely past his early twenties, at most. Even assuming he had a youthful complexion, he could only be in his early thirties.

‘And you’re telling me that monstrous aura came from him?!’

It was hard to believe.

Who was this man? Who could emit such an overwhelming presence?

Suppressing his unease, Bumdong adjusted his stance and asked,

“Did you just say that to me?”

The words echoed in his mind. The young man had called him a barking dog.

The Daeju of the Flying Dragon Unit within the Martial Alliance—a position so revered that even heads of great martial clans treated him with respect—had been referred to in such a manner by a mere youth.

Could he have failed to notice the decorations on his shoulder, marking his rank?

As doubt clouded Bumdong’s expression, the young man’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Oh, not at all. It’s just that there was a dog barking incessantly nearby. Annoyed, I stepped out to check, and lo and behold, there was a mutt outside the building. That’s all I was referring to.”

“…”

Bumdong’s brow furrowed at the obvious insult.

It was a blatant excuse—anyone could tell it was a deliberate provocation.

“And the thing was so filthy. Its constant barking was already irritating, but its mangy face made me want to grab it and boil it alive. It’s probably still outside. Care to take a look?”

Crack.

Bumdong’s fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

The youth had crossed the line. No matter who he was, no one had the right to treat the Daeju of the Martial Alliance in such a manner.

“You dare…”

Bumdong’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.

The young man feigned surprise and responded casually,

“Oh my, you seem upset. Rough day, perhaps?”

“Do you even know who you’re speaking to, showing such disrespect?”

“Why would I care? I’m not interested.”

Snap!

A vein bulged on Bumdong’s forehead. His patience was at its limit.

“I am Bumdong, Daeju of the Flying Dragon Unit under the Martial Alliance.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“…”

Even after hearing his title, the young man remained unfazed. It was clear he’d known from the beginning.

Was he truly behaving this way while fully aware of his position?

“And who might you be?”

At Bumdong’s question, the young man tilted his head nonchalantly.

“Why should I tell you?”

“What?”

“If you’re part of an investigative unit, go investigate. Why are you asking me?”

“…!”

The youth not only knew who Bumdong was but also his affiliation with the investigative unit.

“You might not fully grasp the situation…”

Realizing the implications, Bumdong’s expression hardened as he continued,

“You may be a skilled martial artist, but you’ve just shown hostility toward the Daeju of the Martial Alliance.”

A direct show of aggression against a Daeju was tantamount to declaring war on the Martial Alliance.

For any martial artist from the righteous factions, such an act should have been unthinkable.

“When did I do that?”

The young man shrugged, his shameless demeanor igniting a fire in Bumdong’s chest.

He wanted to draw his sword right then and there, but he held back.

‘He’s strong.’

Stronger than he could confidently handle.

There was even a chance this was an old master disguised as a youth using a mask of rejuvenation.

The odds were too high.

“Even if you claim otherwise, your aura filled this room. The branch leader must have seen it, too.”

Bumdong looked to Moyong Hee-ah for confirmation.

“Pardon? What aura are you referring to?”

Her wide-eyed response left Bumdong speechless.

‘This woman…!’

Though the aura had bypassed her, making it possible she didn’t feel it, her exaggerated reaction made it clear she was feigning ignorance.

The young man chuckled at her response and turned back to Bumdong.

“Oh, was it that? It was just a joke.”

“A joke? You call that a joke?”

“Of course. Just harmless fun.”

“Fun?! You think you can dismiss such a display as mere fun?!”

As Bumdong began to shout, the youth’s expression turned cold.

“It had better be a joke. Otherwise…”

Shiver.

A chill ran down Bumdong’s spine, silencing him instantly.

Though the oppressive aura didn’t return, his body froze as if bound by invisible chains.

Before he realized it, the young man was standing right in front of him, gazing into his eyes.

“And if it wasn’t a joke, then what you did earlier wouldn’t be a joke either, now would it?”

“…!”

Bumdong involuntarily shuddered at the words, a cold sweat running down his back.

"How?"

The young man's cryptic words pierced straight through Bumdong's chest. He was clearly referring to the energy Bumdong had just directed toward Moyong Hee-ah.

"How did he notice?"

It had been a subtle release of energy, intended only for the woman standing right in front of him—not the young man.

Even for someone at a high level, detecting such a minor fluctuation shouldn’t have been easy.

Who in the world was he?

“I can practically hear the gears turning in your head.”

With that mocking comment, the stiffness in Bumdong's body eased.

“Let’s just keep this simple, shall we? We had a little fun, that’s all. Isn’t it easier to leave it at that?”

Tap, tap.

The young man patted Bumdong’s shoulder, his touch light but unsettling.

It was a bewildering situation—one Bumdong couldn’t begin to make sense of.

And because of that, he didn’t notice the faint trace of something seeping into him through the young man’s touch.

“Or would you prefer we draw swords here and now? I’m not much of a dancer, but if you insist, I’ll indulge you.”

“…”

Every word that left the young man’s mouth grated on Bumdong’s nerves.

"This isn't good."

Bumdong’s years of experience with the Martial Alliance warned him that the situation was precarious.

The young man’s eyes held genuine intent. He wasn’t bluffing—he was ready to fight to the death in the heart of Hanan.

Meeting his gaze made Bumdong instinctively reach for his sword.

Could he win? He couldn’t be certain. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Realizing the futility, Bumdong slowly withdrew his hand from his weapon.

“…Tch.”

As Bumdong finally relented, the young man’s smile faded, as though losing interest.

That, strangely enough, was even more unsettling.

"He truly didn’t care if we fought right here and now."

The chilling realization made Bumdong straighten his posture. But before leaving, he addressed Moyong Hee-ah.

“As the branch leader suggested, I will return with proper authorization next time.”

“Yes, I’ll be waiting. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to see you off since we’ve just received another guest.”

Moyong Hee-ah responded with a graceful smile, and Bumdong’s frown deepened.

“Also…”

He glanced at the young man, his words laced with warning.

“I suspect we’ll meet again soon. When we do, I hope you’ll introduce yourself properly.”

It was a veiled threat. After being treated with such disdain, Bumdong was certain their paths would cross again.

“Oh, scurrying away with your tail tucked between your legs while throwing out empty bravado? Oops, I was just thinking aloud.”

“…”

Bumdong’s fists clenched, his body trembling with barely restrained fury. He contemplated drawing his sword at least a dozen times.

“Hoo…”

Letting out a deep sigh, Bumdong turned to leave. As he passed by the young man, heading for the exit, the latter didn’t even spare him a glance.

Once Bumdong had fully disappeared from the premises,

“Haa…”

Moyong Hee-ah finally exhaled the breath she had been holding.

The young man—Gu Yangcheon—turned toward the door Bumdong had exited.

“…Why didn’t you stop him?” Moyong Hee-ah asked, breaking the silence.

Gu Yangcheon shifted his gaze to her.

“Should I have?”

“No, letting him go was the right call. It would have been troublesome if you hadn’t.”

For now, releasing him was the wisest choice.

However…

“It’s just surprising that you let him go. That’s unlike you.”

Her words carried an implicit question: Isn’t that unlike the Gu Yangcheon I know?

Hearing that, Gu Yangcheon chuckled.

“You’re right. Normally, I wouldn’t have.”

He’d nearly killed him on the spot.

The man’s audacity had been infuriating, enough to make him want to incinerate him without leaving a single strand of hair.

But he’d restrained himself.

“I figured he might be useful later. That’s the only reason I let him live.”

“…”

His words were devoid of any warmth, as if he were discussing a mere object rather than a person.

The cold detachment in his voice made Moyong Hee-ah swallow nervously.

“…Do you know him?”

There was something oddly familiar about the man’s demeanor.

Bumdong, the Daeju of the Flying Dragon Unit, or the “Blade of Annihilation.”

It wouldn’t have been surprising if Gu Yangcheon knew of such a prominent figure, but his reaction felt different.

After a moment of thought, Gu Yangcheon replied,

“No.”

His denial was casual, and it wasn’t a lie—at least not in this lifetime.

But in a past life?

That was another story.

“Hah.”

As he recalled Bumdong, Gu Yangcheon let out a shallow laugh.

The memory stirred something within him, prompting Moyong Hee-ah to rub her own shoulder uneasily.

He hadn’t forgotten. Not a single face.

Bumdong was no exception.

“Long time no see.”

How could he not feel a sense of twisted nostalgia?

“To think the bastard would walk straight to me.”

It wasn’t his turn yet.

Gu Yangcheon had planned to deal with other matters before seeking him out.

But seeing him show up like this, so pathetically…

“How could I not be delighted?”

He was so pleased, he could hardly contain himself.

Hiding his trembling hands in his sleeves, Gu Yangcheon grinned.

"It’s a pity. If he’d pushed me just a little further, I might’ve drawn my blade."

If that had happened, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing him.

But he hadn’t.

“Or maybe he would’ve held back to the very end, being the coward he is.”

Thinking about it, Gu Yangcheon wriggled his trembling fingers, forcing them to still.

“Is this done? Should we head upstairs now, or do you have more to handle?”

“A-ah, no, I was just about to head up.”

“Good.”

With that, Moyong Hee-ah rose, and Gu Yangcheon followed suit.

His face was utterly cold as he turned away.

“I left him with a parting gift. Now, how should I play with him?”

It had worked out perfectly. He’d needed someone like Bumdong.

“Let’s have some fun together, Daeju.”

Bumdong was sharp and competent—qualities that had earned him the trust of his former leader, making him a division commander.

And because of those qualities…

“He betrayed faster than anyone else.”

Bumdong, the “Mad Dog Sword,” one of the first to defect to the demonic side during its early days, had once been Gu Yangcheon’s superior in the Martial Alliance.

Recalling this, Gu Yangcheon thought to himself,

“Make yourself as useful as possible before you die, Daeju.”

And if not, he’d ensure that was the case.

******************

Afterward, I went up to the branch leader's office with Moyong Hee-ah.

When we entered, Seodong, who had seen me leave earlier and then return with Moyong Hee-ah, looked at me in surprise.

But there wasn’t much he could do, so I offered a casual grin to brush it off.

Everything seemed to have settled, and I was finally ready to relax and have a proper conversation.

Until...

“…What did you just say?”

I found myself staring blankly at Moyong Hee-ah in disbelief.

“A new faction has emerged in Zhongyuan.”

Her words caught me off guard.

“They’re called the Magyo (Demonic Cult).”

It was a name I was very familiar with.

“It’s said to have been founded by an unheard-of master called Cheonma (Heavenly Demon). They’ve been indiscriminately attacking both the righteous factions and the unorthodox sects alike.”

A strange, indescribable feeling welled up inside me as I listened.

But that wasn’t the biggest problem.

“Their power seems considerable. The Martial Alliance has been struggling to gather information about them. However, according to some rumors…”

Her next words stopped me in my tracks.

“They say the identity of this Cheonma might be one of the Three Revered Masters—Paejon (Defeated Master).”

Moyong Hee-ah said this with a serious expression.

Before I could even process what she’d said...

“…Huh?”

A bewildered voice came from behind us.

It was from none other than the former Paejon himself—now the second son of the Bi family, Bi Eujin.

His arms were crossed, his expression utterly dumbfounded.