Chapter 2

Chapter 2
## Chapter 2: Wicked Bonds and Virtuous Ties (2)

As the heavy wooden door was slammed shut and the auras of Sima Geon and Cheol Woo faded into the distance, Gwan Hyo let out a weary, lingering breath.

“So, it concludes in this manner after all.”

“Are you truly content to let those traitors walk away?” Gwan Pae inquired, his tone jagged with irritation.

“What choice remains? Their loyalty has long since evaporated,” Gwan Hyo replied. “Furthermore, that man fulfilled his end of the bargain to the letter. He brought the Demon World’s Ten Strongholds to their knees, and through his actions, our house has achieved the monumental victory of bringing the demonic realms under a single banner once more.”

“Still, permitting his departure is a terrible waste of resources. Our future ambitions require strength of his caliber; we cannot simply let it slip away.”

Before Gwan Pae could elaborate on his protest, the second brother, Gwan Jong, dismissed the idea with a shake of his head.

“Regardless of his utility, the peril is too great.”

“Peril?” Gwan Pae’s brow pinched in confusion. “Hah! He may harbor some resentment, but surely he wouldn’t dare…”

Gwan Pae remained convinced that Sima Geon lacked the audacity to ever turn his blade against their family.

Gwan Jong’s face tightened with exasperation as he raised his voice. “He carried a sword today. A weapon he was granted the privilege to wear in any company, yet one he never chose to draw until this moment. Do you fail to grasp the gravity of that? It signifies his readiness to kill anyone who blocks his path. He proved as much by slaughtering the Sky Guard Unit without a second thought when they attempted to obstruct him.”

“Even so, we are both here to shield our Father,” Gwan Pae countered with unearned bravado. “The remaining Sky Guard Unit would rally to us in an instant. No matter his prowess, he cannot overcome our collective strength.”

Gwan Jong rubbed his temples, his voice dropping to a low, questioning hiss. “Do you truly believe that?”

“What do you mean?”

“While you were resting here in luxury, I was on the front lines watching him tear through the Demon World’s Ten Strongholds. My own eyes witnessed him shatter the North Heaven Sword Demon, the most formidable warrior of our kind since the era of the Heavenly Demon progenitor. You only saw the North Heaven Sword Demon as a broken man fleeing for his life. If Sima Geon truly intended to strike us down…”

Gwan Jong trailed off, the reality of the situation too bitter to voice aloud.

Gwan Pae recoiled at his brother’s intensity, but a sudden thought emboldened him. “The Poison Blood Gu! We still have the Poison Blood Gu that was embedded in him at Black Dragon Valley, don’t we? Regardless of his martial skill, he cannot purge a parasite from his own vitals. We can still pull his strings like a marionette… Argh!”

The rest of Gwan Pae’s words were cut short by a scream as he clutched his head. Crimson fluid began to seep through his shaking fingers.

“You brainless idiot!”

Gwan Hyo bellowed in fury, having just shattered a ceramic wine vessel against Gwan Pae’s skull.

“Three years ago, I gave him my word that if he demolished the Demon World’s Ten Strongholds, he would earn his liberty. And what did he do? He smiled as he presented me with the shriveled, dead remains of the Poison Blood Gu. You were standing right there beside me—have you already lost your memory?”

“Ah…!”

A sharp gasp of realization escaped Gwan Pae as the suppressed memory finally resurfaced.

“Our connection to him is severed. Do not entertain any idiocy regarding him. Especially you, Gwan Pae—consider this your final warning,” Gwan Hyo declared with chilling authority, fearing his son’s incompetence would invite disaster. Gwan Pae bowed his head in a silent, albeit resentful, submission.

“What is the fate of the Divine Demon Division?” Gwan Hyo asked after a heavy silence.

Gwan Jong considered this, his expression darkening. “It will likely fracture. Most of them will seek to follow him back to their ancestral lands.”

“Do whatever is necessary to retain them. Even if they attempt to depart, the Divine Demon Division is an unparalleled force. Their combat experience and raw power are vital assets we must keep under our control.”

“I shall do my best,” Gwan Jong replied, though his voice lacked any real confidence in the outcome.

—

“Thirty pieces of Gyeongdeokjin porcelain—along with various silks. Additionally…”

“That’s enough.”

No Yang, the second-in-command of the Golden Fox Bandit Lair, picked at his nose and cut off Yuk Geum’s detailed accounting.

“Get to the point. What is the total value?”

“I estimate at least twenty gold taels, sir.”

The mention of such a sum caused No Yang to lurch upward from his lounging position, his heavy facial fat quivering with the movement.

“Twenty gold taels? Bahaha! Finally, a haul worth the effort. Excellent work.”

No Yang’s expression twisted into a greedy, satisfied grin.

“We also took several workers from the trade caravan and a few survivors from the protection detail,” Yuk Geum added.

“Captives? Why bother with the extra mouths to feed? Just execute them,” No Yang dismissed with a careless wave.

“I selected only the young and hardy ones. If we find the right buyers, they will fetch a significant premium.”

“Is that so? Very well, proceed as you see fit.” No Yang’s irritation vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He nodded rhythmically before asking with a predatory glint, “Any women among them?”

“None this time.”

“Tch, a pity. Regardless, it is time to cycle the women currently in the camp. Sell off the ones who have grown dull and secure some new faces. I am weary of looking at the same stock every day.”

“As you command.”

Yuk Geum lowered his head, masking the disdain in his eyes.

“One more thing,” No Yang added. “Liquidate today’s spoils immediately. The Bandit Chief—my elder brother—has sent word that he requires more capital for his dealings.”

“Selling so hastily will likely result in a lower profit margin.”

“The price is secondary. This is about securing our status among the Eighteen Bandit Strongholds. We cannot let a lack of coin hinder our ascent. Sell it all, even at a loss.”

Yuk Geum paused for a heartbeat before nodding his head. “I understand.”

“Is there a guard outside?”

“Yes, Deputy Leader.”

The door swung open, and a man with matted hair hurried into the room.

“Prepare a feast and bring the liquor. Gather all the women in the lair as well. Since they are to be sold soon, we might as well enjoy them one last time.”

“Understood, Deputy Leader.” The man retreated instantly to fulfill the order.

“You are dismissed,” No Yang told Yuk Geum, shooing him away. “Join us for a drink later if the mood strikes you.”

Yuk Geum offered a stiff bow and walked out. No Yang watched his departure with eyes full of contempt. He took great pleasure in humiliating Yuk Geum, who usually acted superior simply because he served as the Bandit Chief’s literate advisor.

“Hehehe! I’ll make sure you never forget who holds the power here.”

Outside the room, Yuk Geum’s hand tightened into a white-knuckled fist as the sound of mocking laughter reached his ears.

‘That bloated swine!’

It was galling that the Bandit Chief had left the stronghold in the care of someone as avaricious and inept as No Yang.

‘Just a little longer. Family ties or not, I will see you destroyed…’

As Yuk Geum’s eyes burned with murderous intent, a violent tremor suddenly tore through the entire lair.

The window frames groaned, and white dust fell in sheets from the ceiling.

“Wh-what is happening?”

No Yang burst through the door with a speed that belied his massive frame.

“It feels like the earth is shaking!”

“An earthquake? We have to get out before the roof collapses!” Terrified of being buried alive, No Yang scrambled past Yuk Geum and began to run.

While it didn’t feel quite like a natural tremor, Yuk Geum couldn’t think of another explanation and quickly followed after him.

At the entrance of the lair, a single strike from Cheol Woo’s fist had reduced the heavy gate to splinters. A subsequent kick sent the massive stone masonry tumbling down with a deafening roar.

Several bandits on watch were instantly flattened by the falling stone. As the rest of the gang came pouring out to investigate the disturbance, they were met with the sight of their dying comrades and flew into a blind fury.

“Who are you bastards?!”

A mid-tier captain known as Black King emerged with a group of fighters.

Black King was the largest and most repulsive member of the Golden Fox Bandit Lair. A fresh facial scar from that morning’s ambush on the Sanghwa Escort Agency only served to make his hideous features more terrifying.

“I’m surprised. I didn’t think they’d have someone of your proportions here,” Sima Geon remarked, eyeing the bandit’s size.

Cheol Woo let out a derisive snort. “Boss, don’t insult me. That’s not a man; it’s just a prize hog.”

“You arrogant gnats!”

Enraged by the taunt, Black King lunged forward, his massive broadsword whistling through the air in a deadly arc.

Cheol Woo didn’t bother to move. Instead, he drove his bare fist directly toward the incoming steel aimed at his throat.

To any witness, the sight of a fist meeting a heavy blade would seem like a suicidal act of insanity. Even Black King was momentarily stunned mid-swing, feeling almost insulted that he had to waste a sword stroke on such a fool.

“Die, you idiot! I’ll carve you into pieces!”

He shifted his aim slightly, deciding to shatter the man’s hand first before hacking the rest of him into animal feed.

As Black King poured his full strength into the grip of his sword, a sickening thud echoed through the courtyard, followed by a shockwave that rattled his entire skeleton.

“Gah!”

Black King gasped, his breath stolen by the impact.

He stumbled backward, staring in horror at his ruined, broken wrist.

“This… this is impossible…”

The force that had broken his arm came from the collision with Cheol Woo’s hand.

More shockingly, the heavy blade that had struck the fist was snapped in two. Before the dazed Black King could process the sight, Cheol Woo’s massive hand slammed into his face.

There was no time for a scream.

His facial bones collapsed inward, and his body was hurled nearly thirty feet through the air before hitting the ground with a wet thud. He didn’t move again.

“Who’s next?”

Having neutralized the captain in a single move, Cheol Woo began a methodical slaughter.

He used no refined technique—only brutal, bone-shattering strikes and kicks that tore through the bandits. To an untrained eye, it looked like a simple brawl, but the sheer, overwhelming power behind every movement left the veteran outlaws of the Golden Fox helpless.

By the time Cheol Woo paused, more than twenty corpses were scattered in the dirt around him.

Every single one had been killed instantly. He wasn’t even winded; his chest rose and fell in a steady, calm rhythm.

“Is this the extent of it? All that talk from such low-level garbage.”

After years of fighting life-or-death battles to unify the fragmented cults, Cheol Woo couldn’t help but feel contempt for these bandits who acted like kings but couldn’t withstand a single punch.

“There should be more capable fighters further in,” Sima Geon said, patting Cheol Woo’s shoulder as he stepped toward the inner sanctum. Cheol Woo moved to take the lead again, eager for a real challenge, but Sima Geon stopped him.

“That’s enough. I’ve waited twelve long years to collect this debt. From this point on, the work is mine.”

A dark, crimson fire flickered in the depths of Sima Geon’s eyes. Recognizing that look, Cheol Woo stepped aside without a word of protest.

“Intercept him! Kill him!”

Beon Gak, the other primary pillar of the Golden Fox alongside the now-dead Black King, screamed orders at his subordinates.

More than thirty men rushed toward Sima Geon. Beon Gak’s face was pale as he watched them go. For the invaders to have progressed this far, Black King must have already fallen.

Black King was among the top five warriors in the lair, a man whose strength was equal to Beon Gak’s own.

‘Damn it, why must the Chief be away at a time like this?’

Their leader, No Geuk, was a feared master among the criminal underworld. Though his group wasn’t large enough to officially join the Eighteen Bandit Strongholds, his individual martial prowess was renowned.

The elite guards who followed the Chief were on a completely different level than the screaming fodder currently charging. The problem was that neither the leader nor his best men were present.

“Beon Gak, what is this talk of intruders? What lunatics would dare attack our home base?”

No Sa Mun arrived late to the scene, trailing a few guards and walking with an arrogant, unsteady gait.

“We don’t know who they are yet, Young Master,” Beon Gak replied, his face flushing with irritation.

Looking at No Sa Mun’s disheveled robes and flushed face—undoubtedly the result of his latest dalliance—Beon Gak felt a wave of loathing.

‘You useless maggot.’

If the boy weren’t the Bandit Chief’s son, Beon Gak would have severed his head long ago.

“Those two?” No Sa Mun pointed a shaking finger at Sima Geon and Cheol Woo.

He hadn’t even noticed the severed heads rolling on the ground. He remained blissfully ignorant of the danger. Beon Gak realized from the vacant, glassy look in the young man’s eyes that he had been indulging in opium.

‘A tiger of a father, and a dog of a son. No, he’s less than a dog.’

Before Beon Gak could intervene, No Sa Mun charged toward Sima Geon. His personal attendants followed him, laughing with a drug-induced mania.

Sima Geon, who had been dispassionately killing any bandit who came near, sneered as he saw No Sa Mun approaching with a drooling mouth and crazed eyes.

Glimpses of the past flashed through his mind.

He could still vividly remember No Sa Mun’s face peering through iron bars, mocking him and dousing him with urine.

As Sima Geon’s sword flashed, an arm spun into the air.

Even as the limb was severed, No Sa Mun seemed detached from the pain, letting out a wild, incoherent howl instead of a scream.

Confirming the man was heavily drugged, Sima Geon’s expression twisted in disgust. He swung his blade with cold, surgical precision.

The remaining arm and both legs were sliced away in a near-simultaneous blur of steel.

No Sa Mun’s limbless torso hit the ground, twitching as blood geysered from his wounds.

“He’s lost in a drug haze. Stop the bleeding and find a way to clear his head. It would be a waste to let him die while he’s still unconscious of the pain.”

Sima Geon left the dying man to Cheol Woo, who looked down with a grimace of revulsion. Sima Geon’s blade moved again.

The heads of No Sa Mun’s guards were lopped off in a single sweep. Their bodies stumbled forward for several steps, spraying blood, before collapsing in the dirt.

Sima Geon then shifted his focus to Beon Gak.

His eyes burned with a freezing, murderous light.

Despite the intensity of his grudge against the son, he had only ignored No Sa Mun’s presence until now because of the threat posed by Beon Gak.