BOOM—!!

The door was obliterated in a single blow, revealing the room beyond.

Inside, Ham Jangsik sat frozen in place, his face drained of color.

Covered head to toe in blood, Unhwi let out a faint chuckle.

“Arrogance, is it.”

Ham Jangsik furrowed his brow.

“...Are you talking to me?”

“Who else is here?”

Ham Jangsik let out a sigh.

“...Arrogance, you say... You’ve already slaughtered over two hundred Gaebang operatives on your way here. Shouldn’t that word suit Lord Cheonsusa of Ihwageom Cheonjong more than me?”

“And?”

“Perhaps it’s time you stopped.”

Unhwi smiled and sat across from him.

“Well, since you didn’t run, I’ll assume you’re here to hear me out.”

“...”

“If you have something to say, go ahead.”

“...I received the same offer Lord Cheonsusa made—from Ihwageom Cheonjong.”

“And?”

Sweat trickled down Ham Jangsik’s forehead.

“I... didn’t want to miss the opportunity.”

“Opportunity?”

He continued in a trembling voice.

“Ihwageom Cheonjong is the highest-ranking among the Five Sword Sects. And more importantly, it maintains subtle hierarchical ties with the other sects—so in truth, it effectively holds sway over all five.”

His voice grew faster.

“Though Lord Cheonsusa hails from Everlasting Snow Palace, what if she were to clash head-on with Ihwageom Cheonjong? It could escalate into a full-blown war between the Five Sword Sects and Everlasting Snow Palace. Of course, should it come to that, the Palace would win... but do you think the Martial Alliance would just stand by?”

“Go on.”

“Jegal Yeonghyeon, the Vice Lord of the Martial Alliance, is already looking for an excuse to strike Everlasting Snow Palace. He wouldn’t pass up a chance like this. Even if the Sichuan Alliance maintains good ties with Lord Cheonsusa, if the Martial Alliance becomes an enemy as well...”

Ham Jangsik raised his head.

His eyes gleamed with certainty.

He continued.

“In the end, Lord Cheonsusa will lose.”

“And?”

“Jang Icheong is at the Heaven-Earth Apex. I know Lord Cheonsusa defeated Pung Muhwi, but everyone knows the Apex is a different realm altogether from other peak stages.”

Ham Jangsik looked Unhwi straight in the eyes.

“Both Lord Cheonsusa and Jang Icheong clearly wish to resolve this without drawing on the full might of their sects. But their interests are now colliding. Honestly, they’re not the only ones hoping this doesn’t spiral out of control. Even Maewidong of Cheonimeng and martial artists across the provinces all desire peace.”

Unhwi listened silently.

“As a beggar of the Gaebang, I made a decision. To uphold the greater cause.”

At last, Unhwi let out a quiet snort.

Ham Jangsik flinched at the sound.

“That’s a lot of words for an excuse.”

“...”

“You’ve just gone to ridiculous lengths to say you sided with Jang Icheong for more profit.”

“...That’s not—”

“The ‘greater cause’? That’s a pretty flimsy note to end on, don’t you think?”

Ham Jangsik swallowed hard.

“When did you first learn that Baek Mujin had entered Seongjak Province? All the intelligence in the province flows through you. You must’ve known well before. Yet even after accepting my offer, you kept that hidden. Was that the ‘greater cause’?”

“...”

“Ihwageom Cheonjong sent four masters in the Harmonization Stage. Even assuming they were ‘shadow-trained,’ it’s absurd to claim the Gaebang didn’t notice figures of that level entering the province. Am I wrong?”

“...”

“Let’s be generous and say those four were so elite they slipped past your eyes. But when did you learn about the Seongjak Union’s internal fracture? The Kangcheon Sect, the Fragrant Blossoms, the Iron Line Gang—they were clearly hostile toward me. There’s no way you weren’t watching them. Someone of your rank—an O-Gyeolgaek—would never have missed it. You might not have seen every meeting, but you couldn’t possibly not know they were happening. If you didn’t, then you’re not an O-Gyeolgaek—you’re barely a Sam-Gyeolgaek.”

“...”

“Did you leak word of my movement with Cheonrak Division toward Gangbuk Province to Jang Icheong? Or was it Baek Mujin? Was that also part of your ‘greater cause’?”

“...”

“You negotiated in secret with Baek Mujin and made your choice—not for survival or righteousness, but purely for your own gain.”

It was too damning to dismiss as a slip of the tongue.

It wasn’t something one could take to the grave out of shame.

Faced with this cold, airtight logic, Ham Jangsik let out a sigh. His posture shifted.

“...Fine. I admit it. It wasn’t for some noble cause—it was for my own ambition. So why don’t we reset our relationship here?”

Even his tone had changed.

Unhwi scoffed.

“How brazen of you.”

But now that everything was out in the open, such words no longer stung. Ham Jangsik spoke as calmly as he could.

“You’ve killed many Gaebang operatives on your way here. I’ll cover that up.”

“Cover it up?”

“If not me, Lord Cheonsusa will become an enemy of the Gaebang. Even if Everlasting Snow Palace lies outside the central martial world, Lord Cheonsusa built Yangryeong with her own hands and now governs Seongjak Province. Though Yangryeong lies on the outskirts, it’s still within the Gaebang’s reach. Seongjak, even more so. You’ll need me.”

“You call that help.”

“If we shake hands again today, then the dead Gaebang agents will be recorded as victims of a massacre initiated by the Iron Line Gang, Kangcheon Sect, and the Fragrant Blossoms—acting under orders from Ihwageom Cheonjong. Yes, I’ll frame it that way.”

That was why Ham Jangsik hadn’t fled.

As an O-Gyeolgaek, he could read the winds well enough to bet on negotiating with Unhwi again.

He had betrayed Unhwi, yes—but the tides had turned.

Massacring Gaebang agents meant things had gone too far. But surely, Unhwi hadn’t intended to antagonize the entire Gaebang.

Or so Ham Jangsik believed.

Because he had gravely underestimated Unhwi.

“So you’ll prevent a full-on conflict with the Gaebang... if I let you live?”

“In short, yes.”

How amusing.

“The Gaebang must be impressive, then.”

“...Pardon?”

“They haven’t even finished sorting themselves out. Right now, they’re nothing more than a rabble of scattered vagabonds. Yet here you are, wielding the illusion of their name like a cudgel. It’s pathetic.”

For a moment, Unhwi considered using the Thousand-Year Blood-Heart Pill tucked in his robes.

But no—that wasn’t something to waste on filth like this.

“Commander Seong.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

“Kill him.”

As Commander Seong drew his dagger, Ham Jangsik shot to his feet.

“Are you insane?! I told you—I can protect you from the Gaebang! Can’t you see what’s happening—?!”

“I already told you. The Gaebang is fractured and disjointed. It’s no more than a bowl of Go stones. And no player fears the stones themselves.”

He was speechless.

This bastard’s actually insane.

Did he even grasp the weight of the words he was spouting?

“The Gaebang—”

He never finished the sentence.

Slash—!

Commander Seong’s blade swept clean through his neck.

Ham Jangsik’s head rolled to the floor.

Unhwi stood, stepping past the corpse.

Commander Seong, watching the severed head roll, turned to Unhwi and asked:

“...What exactly are you planning to do?”

He wasn’t stupid. He understood the implications.

“Maybe it would’ve been better to feed him the Thousand-Year Blood-Heart Pill.”

Unhwi replied flatly.

“Wouldn’t be worth the trade.”

“The trade?”

“There are only six or so of those pills in all the Central Plains. It’s a treasure among treasures. Only someone at the level of Taihe Wushang could safely neutralize it. Depending on how it’s used, it could yield incredible returns.”

Not an exaggeration—but the world wasn’t that simple.

To gain, one must lose something as well.

The Thousand-Year Blood-Heart Pill was, undeniably, a thing of the demonic path.

Once word got out that he had used it, tongues would wag, and if enemies were many, he could be branded a public enemy of the martial world.

It had to be used in secret. No one could know.

And more importantly—he had no intention of wasting it on the Gaebang.

To use something like that in a situation like this would be no different than admitting he lacked ability.

Unhwi looked at Commander Seong.

“Do you hold the Gaebang in high regard?”

“...Well, not exactly, but I wouldn’t say I look down on them ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) either. I’m not someone as extraordinary as you, so I suppose I do feel the weight of the Gaebang’s name.”

“So you feel threatened by them.”

“Not just me... I imagine most martial artists fear the Gaebang to some extent. After all, there’s no place in this world without beggars.”

Unhwi pulled out a fresh ginseng leaf and lit it with Samadhi True Flame, then spoke quietly.

“I thought someone like you would understand.”

“Understand what?”

“No matter how many of them there are... beggars are still just beggars.”

“...”

“Even if ten thousand gather, they’re still just beggars. Their numbers make them hard to control. And with numbers come just as many differing desires. Of all people, they’re the most sensitive to power. All sects submit to strength, but the Gaebang even more so.”

“...Meaning?”

“The Gaebang’s already in chaos. The Sect Leader and Vice Leader are locked in factional struggle. Stirring up more enemies now would be idiocy.”

“But historically, even rival factions have united to crush a common enemy.”

“At least... those two won’t. And by tomorrow, there won’t be a single beggar in the Gaebang who’ll dare call me their enemy.”

“Why?”

Unhwi glanced around.

“People like you, who care about numbers, fear the Gaebang. But people like me, who know better, understand that the Gaebang’s power is an illusion.”

“An illusion...”

Unhwi was certain.

By tomorrow, the mere mention of his name would make every beggar in the Gaebang shudder in fear.

He spoke, low and final:

“No martial artist who fears illusions... can ever stand atop the heavens.”

Not for a single moment—

Had Seol Unhwi ever feared the Gaebang.

Not in this life.

Not in the last.

“Bring me Jasa.”

Commander Seong nodded stiffly, still stunned.