Chapter 493

Chapter 493
## Chapter 493. Shadow of the Setting Sun (6)

—

Consider what would happen if word got out that a massive trove of golden bricks was buried right in the front yard of **Gae-ttong**’s property. Suppose **Gae-ttong**’s relatives were known to live in absolute destitution, barely managing a single meal every day, and even that was scraped together by begging on the streets. Regardless of their poverty, the public would suddenly focus all their curiosity on the front yard of **Gae-ttong**’s residence.

Even if **Gae-ttong**’s father, who could barely manage the physical strain of begging anymore, swore up and down that absolutely nothing of the sort existed under their soil, would anyone actually believe him? My current predicament was identical to that scenario.

No matter how frequently I pointed out that the **Sword Tomb** was merely a deceptive setup engineered by the Demonic Cult, the moment actual items of value were unearthed inside according to their design, the entire focus of the Jianghu would inevitably converge on the **Sword Tomb**. The fixation of a martial artist seeking greater power is far more ferocious and consuming than the average person’s hunger for wealth.

Ultimately, there was no realistic way to block the crowds rushing toward the **Sword Tomb**. If that was the reality of the situation…

*‘I might as well throw a massive wrench into the entire strategy of those Demonic Cult bastards.’*

Fixing my gaze on **Yang Gun-baek**, I let a faint grin touch my lips.

“I am talking about selling the precise coordinates and structural layout of the **Sword Tomb**. Wouldn’t a piece of information like that fetch a hefty price?”

“……”

**Yang Gun-baek** stared back at me with a completely blank expression, looking as though his mind had short-circuited.

“**Gong-ja Jin**…”

He paused, his features tightening into a deeply earnest mask.

“Is your goal to completely bankrupt the **Hao-mun**?”

Wait, what?

“For any intelligence network, spreading fabricated reports is the absolute quickest way to destroy its own credibility.”

…That wasn’t what I meant at all.

“I am well aware of that, but what I have is the absolute truth.”

“…Beg pardon?”

“Are you familiar with a man by the name of **Do Gwang-su**?”

“Who exactly is that?”

Just as I suspected, given his status as a low-level burglar, a branch leader wouldn’t have heard of him.

“He is the rogue who managed to filch the authentic **Sword Tomb** orientation map directly from **Amhyang-cheon-ong** and the **Unae-ogwang** before making a run for it.”

“*E-eh*?”

“I managed to secure the map myself while rendering him some assistance.”

**Yang Gun-baek**’s speech instantly turned into a hesitant stutter.

“C-could I p-perhaps examine it?”

“That rogue took the actual object back into his possession when he left.”

“……”

Good grief, the sheer crestfallen look on his face was incredibly obvious.

“Have you forgotten that I possess a flawless memory?”

“Ah!!!!”

**Yang Gun-baek** instinctively lunged forward to wrap me in an enthusiastic embrace, but quickly caught himself, pulling back to let out a forced, awkward cough. I hadn’t realized he was a man capable of such theatrical shifts in emotion.

“*Ahem, mmm*. Q-quite right. Your memory is indeed legendary, **Gong-ja**.”

“So, what is your assessment? Wouldn’t a map like that be worth quite a bit of coin?”

Prompted by my query, **Yang Gun-baek** rested his jaw against his knuckles, sinking into deep reflection.

“**Gong-ja-nim**, if I may be so bold, what is your true motive for wanting to market this specific treasure map?”

He asked this precisely because he comprehended the immense weight and danger that the **Sword Tomb** map carried with it.

“Because it is an absolute setup.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Precisely because it is a blatant deception, I want to put it up for sale.”

“……”

It didn’t matter if **Gae-ttong**’s family had once been wealthy or how many generations they had occupied that land. None of those details carried any weight. The only detail that mattered was that a rumor had taken root, claiming gold was resting beneath **Gae-ttong**’s front yard.

“You mentioned yourself that the origin of these whispers remains untraceable, and that random acts of bloodshed are erupting all over the land without clear cause, did you not?”

“Well, that could simply be an anomalous series of events…”

While **Yang Gun-baek** was flooded with countless reports of what was happening across the land right now, I held the advantage of knowing exactly what the future held.

“Don’t you find the synchronization of these events to be far too perfect to be mere coincidence?”

“……”

“Furthermore, why would the hidden inheritances of the **Sword Zenith** and the **Black King** surface at this exact moment in time?”

“???”

“Does this not look specifically engineered to provoke a violent collision between the Murim Alliance and the **Sa-huk** Alliance?”

The mastermind who initiated the rumor about the gold buried in the dirt knew exactly what they were doing. Genuine or fabricated, the front yard and the residence of **Gae-ttong** would inevitably be reduced to a barren wasteland by the end of it.

“From the initial whispers to the grand narrative being spun, I sense a multitude of concealed pitfalls waiting to snap shut… do you not share that feeling, **Ji-bu-jang-nim**?”

“……”

Once more, **Yang Gun-baek** leaned his chin heavily onto his hand.

“Who do you suspect is orchestrating this grand theater, and for what purpose?”

I tossed the question right back at him.

“Who else could it possibly be?”

**Yang Gun-baek** was far from ignorant; he wasn’t incapable of connecting these dots. His gaze wavered with intense anxiety before he finally exhaled a heavy breath and voiced his conclusion.

“Are you suggesting… the Demonic Cult?”

As expected of a high-ranking informant.

“That is exactly my suspicion.”

“ Rogues…”

Hearing my confirmation, **Yang Gun-baek** fell into a protracted, heavy silence. Feeding the terror of an unseen foe can easily look like the fanatical delusions of a conspiracy theorist. Yet, anyone who has stared into the maw of a true nightmare understands a fundamental truth: the people who manage to endure when the world transforms into a living hell are always the ones who planned around the absolute worst-case scenario.

I didn’t try to press the matter further with endless arguments. This wasn’t the sort of issue where a person could be swayed simply by throwing more words at them. Ultimately, he had to weigh the reality against his own network’s data. After biting down on his lower lip for what felt like an eternity, **Yang Gun-baek** cautiously broke the silence.

“I understand. What is your strategy for distributing it?”

I was slightly surprised by his compliance.

“…You actually believe my words?”

“If I am being entirely transparent, I remain uncertain. I have never been one to easily buy into wild, unverified conspiracies.”

“Then what changed your mind?”

“Instead of the rumor… I place my faith in you, **Gong-ja Jin**.”

**Yang Gun-baek** elaborated on his reasoning.

“My experience has taught me that when the data itself is questionable, you must place your stakes on the character of the source.”

The intensity of **Yang Gun-baek**’s gaze as he looked at me was almost uncomfortably bright. He immediately followed up with another inquiry.

“*Hmm*… but if you are certain the **Sword Tomb** is a massive trap, shouldn’t our priority be to deter people from entering it?”

“If I explicitly warned you right now that it was a lethal trap, would you truly be capable of abandoning your curiosity, **Ji-bu-jang**?”

**Yang Gun-baek** looked visibly conflicted as he answered.

“…No, I suppose that would be impossible.”

“On top of that, authentic relics belonging to the **Sword Zenith** and the **Black King** are actually going to be found within those depths. Along with genuine treasures of immense value.”

“…Then how can it be defined as a trap?”

Pulling over ink and a fresh sheet of paper, I meticulously recreated the exact layout of the treasure map that **Do Gwang-su** had possessed.

“If the architects of this place intend to extract a far greater price from the visitors than the prizes they hand out, what else would you call it besides a trap?”

Receiving the freshly drawn map with immense care, **Yang Gun-baek** let out a muted gasp as his eyes scanned the intricate structural designs.

“I see your point.”

“In any case, human beings blinded by avarice cannot be reasoned with. If that is the reality, wouldn’t it be far more effective to broadcast the information to the entire world, allowing everyone to coordinate and organize beforehand to minimize needless casualties?”

The Demonic Cult’s strategy was almost certainly to leak these maps in a controlled, clandestine manner to build absolute trust in the information—but I had zero intention of letting their plan unfold smoothly. My goal was to flood the world with so many copies that even a stray dog wandering the streets would have a **Sword Tomb** treasure map clamped between its teeth.

“Ah, wait! I almost omitted the ciphered message.”

“A cipher?”

“It is the key that unlocks the actual location of the **Sword Tomb**.”

I quickly jotted down the specific coordinates of the **Sword Tomb**, information that was omitted from the initial treasure map and which the Demonic Cult was desperately attempting to keep under wraps.

*‘Of the three titans dwelling at the northernmost edge of creation, only the titan cloaked in silver hair has achieved true realization of the cosmic duality.’*

To be completely honest, this riddle had only popped into my mind right before I walked through the doors of this branch. To pinpoint the exact location of the **Great Snow Mountain** nestled between the **Qilian Mountains** and **Mingsha Mountain** in the vicinity of **Yumen Pass** within Gansu Province, I couldn’t have designed a more transparent riddle. I kept the phrasing as basic as possible, tailoring it specifically to the intellectual capacity of those **So-jeong-dae** fools, whose lifetime education amounted to nothing more than the basic Thousand Character Classic. By their mental metrics, even a reasonably clever hound should be able to solve it.

And just as I anticipated.

“!”

**Yang Gun-baek**, possessing a sharp mind well above the median, clearly deciphered the meaning instantly. Without wasting any time, the two of us began hammering out the logistical finer points of mass-producing and distributing the map.

Those wretched Demonic Cult degenerates. Let’s see how they handle a massive surge of uninvited guests crashing their venue before they’ve even finished setting the tables. If an audience arrives with massive expectations only to find a half-baked banquet, managing their collective fury is going to be an absolute nightmare.

*Kyaha-ha-ha.*

Right around the period when the frantic whispers concerning the **Sword Tomb** began to saturate the Jianghu, the Murim Alliance along with the various independent martial organizations who caught wind of the rumors lost no time in making strategic adjustments. The factions boasting high-grade intelligence networks were already acutely aware that copies of the **Sword Tomb** map were actively being traded under the table.

Concurrently, intense debates erupted regarding the precise geographic coordinates of the **Sword Tomb**. Regardless of whether they had managed to study the architectural layout of the interior, pinpointing the physical entrance remained the absolute first hurdle.

“It has to be Shanxi. The region of Taiyuan in Shanxi is the historical ground where the **Sword Zenith** and the **Black King** engaged in their ultimate clash. The **Sword Tomb** is bound to be constructed there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If they intended to share a final resting place, wouldn’t they have chosen Jiangxi, which was their ancestral home? The Jingshou region boasts the legendary Mount Yuhua, so why on earth would they journey all the way to Shanxi Province, which sits right in the immediate territory of the **Sa-huk** Alliance?”

The prevailing sentiment was that even without a map in hand, arriving at the **Sword Tomb** ahead of the competition would allow a faction to completely corner the ancient wealth sealed within. Consequently, every martial clan began reshuffling the elite squads slated for the **Sword Tomb** excursion, while simultaneously scattering scouts across every corner of the land to feverishly locate any terrain that matched the description of the **Sword Tomb**.

The unfolding chaos wasn’t very different for the individuals who had accidentally stumbled upon a treasure map prior to the boom. While they possessed detailed schematics of the inner chambers, their ignorance regarding the physical entrance rendered the document practically worthless as a source of wealth. Furthermore, due to some inexplicable interference, every single time a copy of the map transferred to a new owner, a rumor detailing exactly who held it would instantly spread through the underworld. No matter how ruthlessly they silenced onlookers or how cleverly they evaded trackers, the current coordinates of the map would invariably find its way onto the tongues of the populace, exposing its location.

“I received word that a rogue named **Do Gwang-su** managed to wrest the map away from **Amhyang-cheon-ong**.”

“Isn’t **Amhyang-cheon-ong** a martial artist of profound caliber? Who in the world is this **Do Gwang-su**?”

“He is nothing more than a bottom-tier pickpocket, but it appears he had the absurd luck of snatching the map while the masters were locked in mortal combat.”

A traveler wearing a wide bamboo hat, who had been quietly consuming a bowl of noodles in the corner, suddenly bolted upright from his bench before even filling his stomach, marching straight out of the tavern.

“**Jin So-un**, you absolute piece of filth…”

The very second the man in the bamboo hat muttered his bitter curses and prepared to melt away into the bustling street crowd.

“Hold it right there, **Do Gwang-su**.”

“!!!”

**Do Gwang-su** made a desperate attempt to break into a sprint, but the surrounding mob instantly closed all avenues of escape.

Meanwhile, the organizations that had deployed specialized scouts to gather intelligence began reporting a deeply unsettling phenomenon. A massive tide of martial artists was gradually drifting up toward the northern territories.

“What could possibly be triggering such a massive, sudden migration? Is the Mount Hua Sect hosting some unannounced grand festival?”

“They are attempting to keep it under wraps, but their pathing clearly indicates their ultimate destination is Gansu. There is absolutely no reason to pass through Sichuan if one’s goal is Shaanxi.”

“What could possibly be waiting in Gansu?”

“Word on the street is that the **Sword Tomb** is physically located there.”

“……”

It defied all logical sense that decentralized, nomadic wanderers had somehow deduced the exact position of the **Sword Tomb**, a secret that even the premier intelligence networks of the great powers had yet to definitively crack.

“It seems they are migrating under the assumption that they have absolutely nothing to lose, having swallowed some bizarre, fabricated rumor hook, line, and sinker.”

Yet, as the days bled into weeks, the sheer volume of martial artists charting a course toward Gansu Province expanded exponentially. Moreover, as the alternative maps generated by **Jin So-un** and disseminated through the networks of the **Hao-mun** flooded the open markets, the hysteria surrounding the **Sword Tomb** accelerated to a fever pitch.

“This particular specimen is the original map recovered(?) from the thief known as **Do Gwang-su**. And this alternative one is currently being retailed openly inside local curio shops.”

**Maeng Ju-won** laid out two distinct documents for inspection. One was an ancient, deteriorated piece of treated hide, while the other was a freshly bound set of bamboo slats that looked so pristine the ink practically shimmered with moisture. Scrawled across the bamboo map—which would look blindingly fraudulent to even the most naive observer—was a painfully simplistic riddle that even a stagnant pond turtle could decipher without breaking a sweat.

*‘Of the three titans dwelling at the northernmost edge of creation, only the titan cloaked in silver hair has achieved true realization of the cosmic duality.’*

“Is it your professional opinion that this item is authentic?”

Faced with **Jegal So-myeong**’s inquiry, **Maeng Ju-won** paused to rub the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“My natural instinct tells me it is an absolute forgery, but look at the interior illustrations—are they not entirely indistinguishable from the authentic hide?”

“……”

Therein lay the true dilemma. The freshly minted bamboo document contained structural data that perfectly mirrored the ancient leather artifact. And the exact moment one aligned these two pieces side-by-side for comparison.

“It almost feels as though—”

An immediate, chilling realization washed over **Jegal So-myeong**.

“It is almost as if the document itself is deliberately screaming that the **Sword Tomb** is an elaborate farce.”

An intense, internal alarm began ringing violently within his mind. A deep, instinctual dread warned him that if this situation was permitted to develop unchecked, an unprecedented catastrophe would inevitably unfold.

“However, now that the collective obsession regarding the **Sword Tomb** has infected the entire martial world, deploying force to restrain them all is a physical impossibility.”

**Jegal So-myeong** pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a massive headache coming on. In the wake of the catastrophic ‘**Bokma-gwangin**’ crisis, he already felt as though he was desperately cradling a ticking explosive device with a burning fuse while navigating an incredibly volatile political landscape. To have a highly problematic ruin like the ‘**Sword Tomb**’ suddenly materialize on top of all that made him feel as though his skull was literally on the verge of fracturing from the sheer stress.

Even so, total paralysis was not an option.

“Draft and dispatch official notices to every major branch within the alliance, issuing a stern alert regarding the **Sword Tomb** and explicitly commanding them to refrain from impulsive movements.”

“With all due respect, do you truly believe they will heed our directives?”

“They will almost certainly ignore them. Which is precisely why I am issuing a baseline disclaimer, is it not? We are establishing that the Murim Alliance will absolve itself of all legal and moral accountability for whatever happens next.”

**Maeng Ju-won**, absorbing the strategy, simply shook his head in silent disagreement. If the leadership of the Murim Alliance could truly absolve themselves of systemic blame so effortlessly, they would have shaken off their political burdens a long time ago.

“Rather than executing a passive withdrawal, would it not be far more prudent for the Murim Alliance to form a dedicated vanguard force to guide and enter the site alongside the independent groups?”

To enforce any semblance of order or deliver warnings, personnel would have to be mobilized on the ground regardless. If that was the case, why not actively select and organize the investigation units slated for deployment, sending them directly into the heart of the **Sword Tomb** alongside the masses? He reasoned that such a visible presence might, at the very least, provide a safety net to hold back those foolish enough to plunge headfirst into a lethal trap without understanding the stakes.

“*Hmm*…”

Sinking into brief contemplation, **Jegal So-myeong** eventually offered a firm nod of assent.

“The logic is sound. Coordinate the logistics along those lines.”

“Understood.”

“I can only desperately hope that the interior of that place is entirely vacant.”

He knew all too well that it was the tragic flaw of martial artists to completely blind themselves to the gravest warnings of the Murim Alliance the moment a glittering prize danced before their eyes. Rising to his feet, his body feeling incredibly weighed down by the burden of leadership, **Jegal So-myeong** paced slowly over to the window. The brilliant crimson sunset draped over the western peaks was casting immensely long, dark silhouettes across the sprawling expanse of Wuhan.

“…Is it not a common saying that the more brilliant the noon sun shines, the more vast and consuming the shadow of the setting sun becomes?”

For some inexplicable reason, the dying light bleeding across the horizon before him felt less like a natural cycle, and more like a mirror reflecting the fading vitality of the Murim Alliance itself.