Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Chapter 99 : What He Does Best

What He Does Best

The top floor of Divine Wind Pavilion had been completely destroyed.

The walls and pillars had collapsed all at once, the roof caved in, and the floor had shattered, leaving a massive hole.

And that wasn't the end.

While it hadn't sunk in entirely like the fifth floor, the interiors of every floor were battered beyond recognition, looking more like ruins than an inn.

A well-built, sturdy wooden building simply couldn't withstand the force of a powerful martial artist.

There was a reason martial artists in the world of Murim were called superhuman—their deeds were unthinkable for mere men.

"My word..."

"How could that be possible?"

"Not even a gale could do this."

"Why would they do such a thing?"

"I heard last night some dark path bastards ended up fighting each other and did that."

"Shh! Watch your mouth. Do you want to welcome unexpected visitors in the night?"

Passersby, seeing the place from afar, each made a remark.

There were, of course, those who stayed silent for fear of eavesdropping ears, but their eyes lingered on the sight for quite a while, visibly relieved inside.

For ordinary folk in Kaifeng, few had gone without having a coin extorted from them by the Musan Group goons.

Divine Wind Pavilion was a sizeable brothel, but Kaifeng was full of such places—there was hardly anyone who would regret this sight.

If anything, some watched with a sense of delicious satisfaction.

"......"

Yet amid the crowd, one man was watching with a particularly hardened face.

Eyes wide open, his expression had turned to stone.

'Are they saying the Divine Wind Pavilion of the Iron-Blood Gate ended up like that overnight...?'

It was Yang Se-ok of the Yang Clan. Staring blankly, visibly shocked, his face became increasingly complicated.

'As far as I've heard, young hero Yu took control of the Iron-Blood Gate, so in that case, this must mean...'

Beggar's Union's Punggae had passed on the news, and he'd heard directly from Yu Jeong-un—confirming that the new young Gate Leader of Iron-Blood Gate was indeed Yu Jeong-un.

He'd only heard the story yesterday.

But overnight, the brothel owned by Iron-Blood Gate had been completely demolished?

There was no way Yu Jeong-un wasn't involved.

'Looks like I'll have to go see for myself.'

With determination settling in, Yang Se-ok turned away.

He intended to head for the White Stone Teahouse to hear it from Yu Jeong-un directly.

He'd planned to lay low as the Beggar's Union and various eyes were watching the Yang Clan—but after seeing this, there was no way he could just walk by.

He needed to grasp the situation quickly to take proper action.

"... Let's hope nothing serious happened."

Yang Se-ok murmured under his breath.

Politics aside, as a person, he could not help feeling some strange goodwill.

Unlike his delicate, peerless young master's looks, Yu Jeong-un's conduct was the epitome of a martial hero—an exemplary figure, truly.

In fact, he possessed martial prowess beyond his age.

He managed the energy in his body so well that, at first glance, it was barely noticeable.

Perhaps it didn't quite reach the legendary heights of returning spirit, but his sense for controlling internal energy was certainly acute.

Yu Jeong-un was already a famous figure in the upright martial world, to the point where even clumsy facial sketches were being passed around.

Rumor even had it that Mount Hua was brainstorming ways to invite him as an honored guest.

Rumors in the Central Plains tended to exaggerate—but Yang Se-ok, having met him in person, saw no exaggeration here.

Even minor gestures exuded refinement and gravity. He was truly a "dragon among men".

No martial artist could help but feel favorable toward him.

His concern at the moment did not lie with Yu Jeong-un's safety.

Even if he had seized control of Kaifeng's dark path, the Musan Group goons weren't formidable one by one—their martial prowess was laughable, if anything.

They were troublesome, but far from threats to someone at a certain level.

There were plenty of them, yes, but to a martial artist of real caliber, numbers meant nothing.

For someone regarded as one of the supreme rising stars, it was impossible to imagine Yu Jeong-un falling to such scum.

'Still, something clearly happened.'

For an entire pavilion to collapse halfway, an incredible battle must have taken place—all in just a single night.

Even if Yu Jeong-un had been disguising his identity, there was no way the Gate Leader himself hadn't been swept up in the affair.

'If something really did happen...'

Yang Se-ok thought of the elite clan warriors waiting at the estate.

Ever since Jeong-un's arrival, they'd been on standby, ready to move at a moment's notice.

'We move whenever necessary.'

Resolving thus, Yang Se-ok vanished into the crowd of onlookers gawking at the gaping wounds in Divine Wind Pavilion.

* * *

It didn't even take a full two hours for Yang Se-ok's grim face to relax.

"Wh-what do you mean by that?"

Upon reaching the White Stone Teahouse, he headed straight for Yu Jeong-un's quarters.

Bursting in, he found Jeong-un preparing to go out, looking completely unruffled.

Yu Jeong-un spoke.

"They had a ridiculous tradition, it seems. Once a new Gate Leader is chosen, that person must meet and exchange greetings with the Gate Leaders of the other two sects."

"And so...?"

"At first, I thought I'd just go along. If I was safely recognized as the new leader, I figured I'd win an opportunity to confront Jeon Seok-gyeon."

"That meeting was at Divine Wind Pavilion?"

"Yes."

Jeong-un nodded, fastening the Iron-Blood Gate's black long robe over his blue martial uniform.

Yang Se-ok stared intently before asking again.

"But why did Divine Wind Pavilion end up in such a state? And what did you mean when you said you had 'dealt with all of them' just now?"

"When I faced those men and saw their conduct, I simply couldn't hold back. It was impossible not to act. It was obvious that as long as they remained alive, they'd keep tormenting the common folk."

"S-so then...?"

"I slew both the Ghost Face Gate Leader and the Black Hand Gate Leader. As you've said before, they weren't impressive in the least. Kaifeng is a curious place. Such men occupied the seats of Gate Leaders and walked the streets unchallenged for years. Is the District Head really such a great figure? Even if they have royal blood."

"......"

Yang Se-ok, lips trembling, fell silent. The shock of Jeong-un's words drowned out any replies.

'He killed Yang Kang and Il Do-hae?'

That meant, with the Iron-Blood Gate's Neung Jim-ak included, every leader of the three sects supporting Musan Group was dead—all within a single day.

Watching Jeong-un speak about it as if it were nothing, Yang Se-ok felt an acute sense of alienation; he, who had spent years suffering quietly just watching those men, wondered what he had become.

'Was it really this easy?'

Such thoughts crossed his mind.

The power structures atop Kaifeng's martial community were interwoven like webs, and with even the District Head—a royal—entangled, he'd come to think there was simply nothing he could do.

Now, this young man had crushed that whole scheme in an instant.

Yang Se-ok barely regained composure and replied.

"No matter how great a martial artist's influence, they cannot match the royal house. The royals are born with an exceptionally exalted, incomparable status. By now, the District Head will be aware that something has happened. He'll have ordered someone to get to the bottom of this."

"I see."

Jeong-un answered evenly, as if unconcerned. And he really wasn't.

'And what would he do, even if he knew?'

As a warrior of the Heavenly Martial Hall, he was simply doing what he must.

Dispatching a few leeches that plagued the country wasn't something that need trouble him, no matter how the District Head felt.

Not that they could discover his true identity anyway.

Yang Se-ok continued.

"I'm just a little worried. Originally, I requested Young Hero Yu deal with the Musan Group Lord quietly. But with such chaos, even the Beggar's Union will have sensed something major is happening behind the scenes. Once the truth comes out, they'll try to use it to pressure us...."

At that, Jeong-un glanced at Yang Se-ok's face. He was clearly filled with worry, unsure how to navigate what was ahead.

"......"

Jeong-un stared quietly for a moment before speaking.

"If they catch on?"

"Sorry?"

"The Beggar's Union or anyone else—does it matter if news spreads that I destroyed them?"

"W-well... as I explained before, if it came out that this happened at our request, they could use it as leverage to pressure us..."

"Hero Yang."

Jeong-un cut him off.

His tone was a bit cold. Yang Se-ok, startled, looked at him curiously, and Jeong-un continued.

"The Heavenly Martial Hall does not settle private affairs for sects."

"Sorry?"

Yang Se-ok asked, dazed.

"I understand your reasoning. That's why I'm moving discreetly. But when those preying on the common folk are right before my eyes, it's impossible for me to hesitate, worrying only about one sect's welfare."

"..."

"Your clan requested my presence here. But truthfully, it was a matter of timing; even if I hadn't come, the Heavenly Martial Hall would have sent someone eventually. The evil these dark path men commit in this city cannot be taken lightly."

As Jeong-un recalled their words and deeds, he felt the bile rise.

They spoke of murder as if it were nothing. He couldn't even guess how many ordinary people had perished quietly here.

"If anyone stronger than I had come, perhaps they would have refused your request to keep the Heavenly Martial Hall's involvement hidden. That's how our warriors work—they just slaughter all the evil men and go home."

"Th-that..."

"But I was not like that. I worried that if things unfolded thus, the repercussions would impact the common folk. So, hero Yang, I hope you can understand the reasoning behind my actions."

Jeong-un bowed his head slightly as he finished. Yang Se-ok was at a loss.

"Y-Young Hero Yu. What I said was careless. You're not wrong. When it comes to eradicating these men, you needn't put my clan's security first. Please, cut them down freely. We'll handle the aftermath ourselves."

"I thank you for your understanding."

Jeong-un pressed his fists together in a martial salute.

It was a gentle but unmistakable cue for departure.

Now fully ready, sword belted at his waist, Jeong-un looked as if he might leave at any moment.

After returning the salute and preparing to leave, Yang Se-ok found his steps slowing.

He turned back and spoke again.

"May I ask what you plan to do next? I'd like to know, at least roughly, so I can make adequate preparations...."

"I've sent a letter claiming to have claimed the Lord's seat from him. After what I did, he won't see me as his successor. But I've forced a meeting, so my objective is accomplished."

"......"

He'd managed, in just a few days, to meet the reclusive Musan Group Lord.

In fact, rather than seeking him out, he had been summoned by Jeong-un.

The networks he'd painstakingly built over years were all toppled in an instant.

There was no way that man could avoid seeing Jeong-un now.

"My thanks."

After gazing silently at Jeong-un for a moment, Yang Se-ok offered a salute again.

Then, after Yang Se-ok left, Jeong-un, now fully prepared, approached the secret passage.

'I can't wipe them all out by myself.'

There were just too many of them.

It was impossible, even for Jeong-un, to hunt down and slay every last minion.

But if all their ringleaders were killed, the situation changed.

If he took out the focal points and then vanished himself, the leftovers would fall into chaos.

What happened afterward—whoever took the spoils once the dark path was shattered—was none of Jeong-un's concern.

What mattered was clearing out the remaining scum—that, he resolved, would be the job of the righteous sects in this city, not his.

'He understood me well enough.'

Jeong-un remembered the clear gaze in Yang Se-ok's eyes. He decided to trust him.

'I will do what I do best.'

Jeong-un ran his palm over the sword guard at his waist.

To take up the sword—that was what he was most confident in.