Chapter 27

Chapter 27
## Chapter 27: Night of Shaoxing (2)

Cheol Woo had seized the scruff of Hyeongjo’s neck—the man’s frame now limp and hollow after his final breath—and was roughly jostling him.

The abrupt arrival of Cheol Woo caused Ma Jeong and Gong Neung to stiffen, their apprehension impossible to mask.

A lifeless human body possessed a weight far greater than a living one; it typically required the combined effort of two sturdy men to hoist such a burden. The sight of Cheol Woo tossing the corpse around with a single hand as if it were a mere trinket suggested either terrifying natural power or martial prowess of a high order. Furthermore, his complete lack of concern regarding the carnage surrounding them indicated he was no ordinary traveler.

“Are we alone?”

Cheol Woo threw the question toward Sima Geon, who was currently surveying the area with a watchful eye.

“Indeed. Just us.”

Sima Geon had been harborng a quiet dread that Sima Ho might be lying among the fallen, but he merely clicked his tongue when he saw Hyeongjo’s remains dangling from Cheol Woo’s grip.

“How pathetic. With their commander in such a state, the Unity Society is essentially extinct.”

Cheol Woo discarded Hyeongjo’s body with the same lack of ceremony one might show to a piece of refuse.

“Is that truly the man in charge?”

“I’ve encountered him once before. He didn’t look quite this miserable then, but his features are unmistakable.”

As the exchange between Sima Geon and Cheol Woo played out, the countenances of Ma Jeong and Gong Neung grew increasingly grim. They were acutely aware that they were being treated as insignificant, yet they found themselves paralyzed. They didn’t even dare to flee; it felt as though the very air would tear them apart the instant they attempted to run.

“Are you lot part of the Blood Ministry Clan? You certainly did a number on this place. Your blade work is surprisingly decent.”

Cheol Woo shifted his gaze between Ma Jeong and Gong Neung as he spoke. When neither man offered a reply, the casual smirk on Cheol Woo’s face began to harden into a mask of irritation.

“They aren’t from the Blood Ministry.”

Sima Geon gestured toward a specific gash on one of the corpses nearby.

“This isn’t the messy work of street brawlers. These are surgical strikes, aimed precisely at the life-points—no energy wasted.”

“If that’s your assessment, Boss, then these two are more than just hired hands. Actually, now that I’m looking at them…”

Cheol Woo scrutinized the pair intensely before letting out a dry chuckle.

“They have a certain aura. It’s familiar. Like the madness we saw back in Black Dragon Valley.”

“I agree. It appears the Blood Ministry Clan brought in outside help.”

“What’s the verdict, Boss? Do we finish them?”

“Ho might be tied up with the Unity Society, but this isn’t strictly our fight.”

Sima Geon paused, his eyes narrowing as he addressed the two survivors.

“Your headquarters is a ghost town, which means something is afoot. What’s the play? Where has the Unity Society gone?”

When Ma Jeong and Gong Neung remained stubbornly silent, Cheol Woo took a menacing step forward, cutting off Sima Geon.

“If you refuse to answer the next inquiry, we’ll assume you’re volunteering for a grave.”

“The Unity Society—where are they?” Sima Geon repeated, his tone dropping to a dangerous level.

“Toward the east… at Gwanje Temple,” Ma Jeong admitted, throwing a nervous glance at his surroundings.

“Gwanje Temple? What would they be doing there?”

“It’s a secret stronghold for the Blood Ministry Clan. The plan is to lure them there and eliminate them.”

“A classic trap. Bait the rabble into the open and decapitate the leadership.”

Cheol Woo traced a line across his own throat, a dark grin spreading across his face. “Are there more fighters like you waiting there?”

Sima Geon’s voice held a slight tremor of concern as he pressed further. Sima Ho was almost certainly at that location. While a clash between local gangs was one thing, the involvement of professionals like Ma Jeong and Gong Neung made the situation far more perilous.

“No. Only the two of us were sent to Shaoxing…”

“Ma Jeong!”

Gong Neung’s voice cut through the air like a whip. Ma Jeong instantly fell silent, looking startled. However, Cheol Woo was not in a forgiving mood.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak!”

Cheol Woo vanished, closing the distance with terrifying speed, and launched a massive fist.

“Gah!”

A sharp, panicked sound escaped Gong Neung. It defied logic that a man of such bulk could move with that kind of velocity. Driven by pure survival instinct, he swung his blade to intercept.

But Cheol Woo’s strike was not something a piece of steel could halt. The blade shattered into a cloud of metal shards upon impact, and Gong Neung was sent reeling backward, his body light as a leaf against the force of the blow. In that split second, Ma Jeong saw that his companion’s chest had been utterly caved in; the man was dead before he hit the ground.

Cheol Woo casually rubbed his ear and muttered, “Finally silenced that annoying pest. Please, continue, Boss.”

Bolstered by the swift execution, Sima Geon resumed his interrogation.

“Given your reaction, you aren’t simple mercenaries. You have an agenda here. What is the goal? Who is behind this takeover?”

Ma Jeong kept his jaw locked in hesitation, but the moment Cheol Woo shifted his weight, Ma Jeong scrambled backward and the words tumbled out.

“W-we were using the Blood Ministry Clan as a pawn to dismantle the Unity Society. The goal was to seize control of Shaoxing’s underworld.”

Sima Geon’s eyes turned cold and predatory. “From where did you come?”

“H-Hangzhou.”

“Hangzhou? Are you suggesting you are from the Thousand Kill Hall?”

“That is correct.”

Before Ma Jeong could exhale, Cheol Woo was in his face, cracking his knuckles rhythmically.

“You really want to die, don’t you? I told you to speak, not spin fables. Everyone knows the leadership of Thousand Kill Hall has been wiped out. You think we’re fools?”

“W-we crushed what was left of the Thousand Kill Hall! We are the ones who took Hangzhou’s streets!”

“Then give me a name. Which organization do you serve?” Sima Geon asked, holding back a clearly agitated Cheol Woo.

Ma Jeong hesitated for a heartbeat before forcing the name out.

“The… Nanjing Flying Knife Society.”

“The Flying Knife Society, eh?”

Sima Geon rubbed his jaw, studying Ma Jeong as if he were an interesting specimen. Ma Jeong felt his skin crawl under that gaze. He had encountered many powerful figures, but none whose mere presence felt so suffocating. It reminded him of the terrifying pressure he had once felt from a distance while observing his own clan head.

‘These people are monsters. And completely unknown. This could ruin everything. I have to survive to warn the others that such threats exist in this city.’

Ma Jeong convinced himself that his cooperation was a tactical retreat rather than an act of cowardice. He even felt a sense of pride for deceiving them about his true origins by using the name of the Flying Knife Society.

However, he failed to realize one vital truth.

Sima Geon and Cheol Woo had no intention of letting him walk away.

Mirroring the fate of Gong Neung, Ma Jeong was leveled by a single, devastating strike from Cheol Woo. The big man wiped his hands and looked at his companion.

“To Gwanje Temple, then?”

There was no verbal reply. By the time Cheol Woo had finished speaking, Sima Geon was already a distant shadow, sprinting toward the temple.

—

“Brother!”

A shout reached Sima Geon as he tore through the streets toward Gwanje Temple. He skidded to a halt and looked toward the source. Sima Hyeon was there, leaning against a wall and gasping for air, looking as though he had run a marathon.

Sima Geon’s heart sank. Sima Hyeon was supposed to be safe at home. A wave of dread washed over him. He covered the distance between them in seconds, grabbing Sima Hyeon by the shoulders.

“What’s happened? Why aren’t you at the house? Is it Ho?”

Sima Hyeon, still reeling from how fast Sima Geon had reached him, managed to shake his head while catching his breath.

“Calm down. Ho… that reckless brat… he’s back home.”

“What?”

The tension left Sima Geon’s body so suddenly he almost stumbled. His grip on Sima Hyeon’s shoulders loosened.

“He returned. He’s been through the ringer, but he’s alive.”

“Injured?” Sima Geon asked, his protective instincts flaring again.

“Better than I feared. All his parts are still attached,” Sima Hyeon joked, trying to lighten the mood. But seeing Sima Geon’s face remain grim, he added, “It’s mostly surface wounds. Truly, he’ll be fine.”

“That is a massive weight off my mind.”

“Were you just at the Unity Society’s place?” Sima Hyeon asked, looking between Sima Geon and Cheol Woo.

Cheol Woo opened his mouth to boast, but Sima Geon quickly signaled him to be quiet.

“No. We were heading that way, but we heard rumors of a massacre near Gwanje Temple, so we decided to circle back.”

“Wise move. Ho mentioned there was a massive bloodbath between the Blood Ministry and the Unity Society there. You won’t believe the news, though.”

“That the Unity Society was destroyed?” Cheol Woo interrupted, his voice flat.

Sima Hyeon’s eyes went wide. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I… just guessed,” Cheol Woo muttered, sounding defensive. Then he raised his voice. “The kid came home, didn’t he? If they had won, he’d be out celebrating. He only comes home when he’s been beaten.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Sima Hyeon said, though he looked skeptical. Sima Geon didn’t give him time to dwell on it.

“Enough talk. Let’s get home. I need to see the extent of his injuries.”

“You always expect the worst,” Sima Hyeon sighed.

Given that a hundred men had been fighting, Sima Hyeon felt Ho had been lucky. Still, a fractured arm and a deep gash in his leg were far from minor.

Cheol Woo sat down next to Sima Ho, whose face was purple and swollen, and gave him a light cuff.

“Ow! What was that for?” Sima Ho cried out.

“For being a loser. Getting thrashed like a beginner.”

“I didn’t choose to get hit! If the Blood Ministry hadn’t brought in those devils, we would have won,” Sima Ho snarled, his pride wounded worse than his body.

He recounted the initial success of the raid on the Blood Ministry base, only for mysterious, highly-skilled reinforcements to appear and tear them apart.

“Do you know who they were?” Sima Geon asked.

“No. I’ve never seen their like before.”

“They are from the Nanjing Flying Knife Society.”

“The… Flying Knife Society?”

“Yes. They’ve already conquered Hangzhou. Now they’ve set their sights on Shaoxing.”

Sima Ho felt a chill at those words. Hangzhou was a massive city compared to theirs. To think an organization powerful enough to rule there was now here was terrifying.

“We took a hit, but as long as the leader is alive, we can—”

Cheol Woo cut him off ruthlessly. “The leader is dead.”

“What?” Sima Ho tried to stand, forgetting his leg wound, and nearly collapsed. Sima Geon caught him, his expression filled with sympathy.

“We confirmed it on the way. Their base was hit too. The leadership was wiped out. The Unity Society is no more.”

“…” Sima Ho stared, his eyes wide with shock.

“From where I stand, the Unity Society is a memory. The Blood Ministry might crawl back, but the Flying Knife Society is a different beast entirely. You need to stay away from them.”

“…”

“No more arguments. I’ve let you wander until now, but that ends today. I will not stand by and watch you walk into a grave.”

Sima Geon squeezed his brother’s shoulder with finality. Sima Ho didn’t respond; he simply sat there, staring at the wall in silence, his jaw tight.