In the back alleys, the first skill to master wasn't combat or distinguishing edible from inedible, but how to walk silently. A single sound and those ever-scouting alley rats would swarm to investigate.
Thanks to that, I now put it to good use: tailing someone's backside without making a sound.
There it is… they hid the entrance well.
Below the Nomadic City runs a maze no one can fully memorize, full of rumors and rotating shadows. This is one of those cases: old pipeline tunnels repurposed as a secret route to their hideout.
Still, even a syndicate in Dragon Gate would never cram everyone into a few pipes—this has to be a scattered cell network of small-time operators.
Walking straight through the pipes, they opened into a back door of a nondescript building. Inside, chaos reigned.
"What are you pigs doing here? Freeze, everyone!"
He came all the way from Danguk, got beaten up at breakfast, spilled his Lin-su Fishcake Soup, and these idiots are playing mahjong?
"Alright, if you're the goddamn bastard who trashed the mess hall and overturned someone's table, raise your hand."
"Haha, kid. Not sure where you came from, but you don't eat much?"
"You sons of bitches wanna point and stare? Enough. I'll say this once: either you die here or you surrender and let the Guard State haul you in. Personally, I prefer the former—I'm pissed off right now."
"Man, you're tough, kid. Do you realize what nest you've crawled into?"
"A pig sty? You don't pay taxes here, but you sure splurged on the interior. Selling the place or what?"
"You little shit think you can sass an adult with disrespectful tones? You learned any manners?"
"Enough, you bastards. Will you surrender, or not? Typical pigs: slow at everything but shit themselves in a hurry."
"Sigh… you lot, chop 'em up and dispose of the pieces as you see fit."
"Yes, boss! Sorry! But you're the one who started this."
"No, I appreciate it. Finally some real work."
With a hiss, my blade slid free, colliding with a cleaver thrown by one of the goons, signaling the start of the fight.
"Alright, let's go!"
"Come on in. Come on in, you damned bastards!"
I parried the incoming cleaver and caught it in reverse grip, enveloping it in wind. Which wind stands out among all the others? I'd say a whirlwind—a wind capable of roaming anywhere, yet somehow anchored in one spot. I don't really know why. Hell, I don't care. What matters is that I command that wind.
[Whirlwind—Death Wheel]
The wind-wrapped cleaver deviated along a bizarre trajectory and embedded itself in the running man's head. Unfortunately, it didn't pierce through, so it didn't spin midair but tumbled to the ground along with his brain matter.
"You should've sharpened it better!"
Then it would've cleanly sliced the skull, spun through the air, I could've caught it and thrown it again—that would've been a fucking awesome combo. Too bad.
"You know how to wield Arts! Watch out, everyone!!"
"Being cautious is fine and all, but who's gonna watch your back?"
Get distracted for a moment and you deserve to die, right?
With a swift motion, I sheared the skull; blood sprayed and clouded my vision. Christ, what an atrociously grand exit.
After that, it was just a brawl: one kid with a sword against six armed men.
I forward-rolled to evade an axe flying for my head, using the wind to accelerate mid-roll. With the boosted rotation and airflow, I unleashed a crushing kick that sent him down.
"You fucking brat!!"
"Ugh!"
A body slam from the side sent me sprawling onto a mahjong table, and before pain even registered, I had to turn my head.
"You're pretty good at dodging!"
If I hesitated even a fraction, there'd be an axe mark on my head. I had to avoid it.
"Get out of the way!"
I swung my sword horizontally, plunged it in—and detonated it!
Arts Technique
The sword lodged in his side trembled violently, glowed blue, then split him in two.
"You… you're a monster, a monster!"
"I am a monster… Hey, you. You're the one. The bastard who wrecked my Lin-su Fishcake Soup. Yeah, you, you fucking son of a bitch."
"It—it wasn't me! I—I wasn't!"
"Save it. You, come out. If you shield him, you die too."
"Get lost, you bastard!!"
"Hey, big guy, what's going on here?! We've been together for so long!!"
"Who do you call big guy! I don't know this kid! Let go, you punk!!"
What a show, what a show. They're tearing each other apart.
"Alright, everyone freeze! Stand at attention, or I'll leave you looking like the dead guys."
Good. Nice to see you're listening this time.
"Now the Guard State's men will be here soon. Do you want to get arrested? Or…"
"I'LL SURRENDER QUIETLY!!!"
"Good, quick on the uptake. Hey, you—step forward."
"Yes… Ji-yu? Not me though…"
Again they point fingers at each other, sizing one another up. Feels like an elementary school playground.
"Hey you. You—the one they call 'boss'. Come out and I won't kill you, you punk. People'd think I'm a murderer."
"You already killed them, you bastard."
"What's with your expression? You hurt?"
"Aah, it's just my tooth that's aching a bit…"
"Oh really? Want me to pull it out for you?"
"No, no!! I'm fine!"
"Alright. Hey you, just spit it out. Which cell network are you tied to?"
"I mean, I don't know that… wait, hold on… it's… um… oh! Now that I think of it, on Christmas! They're planning something big on Christmas!!"
"Where?"
"I really don't know that much! Seriously!!"
"Then what about nearby? Someone's younger sibling or something?"
"J-just three blocks from here, there's their new stronghold where a few of them are still holed up! For real!"
Christmas… these thugs even play Santa now, what a sick joke.
"Hands up! The Guard State has arrived."
"Tch. All done. Arrest the ones that need arresting and deal with the bodies yourselves. Hey, five thugs! Line up."
"Arrest m-me first!"
"No me! Me!!"
"I'm the worst one! It's me!"
"Escort them one at a time. And Baekhyun, you first return to the Guard State…"
"No. Thanks for the orders, captain, but there's still another group holed up somewhere. Bring another transport vehicle… and hey James, what the hell are you puking again?"
"Ugh… guhh… blegh!!"
"Spew it all out now. You'll be seeing corpses from here on—get used to puking, you moron."
Seriously, all this was done by a kid who's barely a son's age to me…?
I clearly remember Wei Yenwu mentioning this before we entered the operation.
"Are… you saying… we should keep a close watch on the child?"
"What I said was to observe how he fights. Simple, right?"
"I'll obey orders, but still—a child, really in combat…?"
"You thought of him as a child, huh?"
Rather than answer, Wei Yenwu caressed his blade, Shei's Fragment, then spoke on.
"If you clash swords enough times, at some point you can assess your opponent before blades even meet."
"Is that so…?"
"Exactly. That isn't a child, nor even a human. It's a demon wearing the mask of the damned. I'd see for myself what we've brought into our fold, but I can't. So I'm asking you for a favor."
Now I understand why Lord Wei Yenwu said that about this child donning the mask of the damned.
A corpse lies cold on the floor—one died instantly with a cleaver lodged in his skull; the last one they carried off had his face crushed. As for that one… he was armed with nothing but a sword.
"This—there's no way this wound was caused by a sword…"
Who in their right mind splits a man in half with a sword? And it wasn't even a greatsword, just a standard short blade. No way it delivers that level of destruction without Arts.
The Ironworks Guild—Dragon Gate's Mafia—saw the kid and were so terrified they surrendered on the spot. And yet the kid ran off alone…
His situational awareness, combat skill, charisma—every aspect defies belief that he's barely a teenager.
"Alright, Team A will handle transport; we're on overwatch…"
"Sweep complete. Neutralized all targets except one head-level survivor."
"Change of plan. Grab one set of cuffs and all corpse bags."
A monster. That's what he is. A monster bound to us by contract…
"I don't want to turn on him…"
I've been doing this for over twenty years, yet something like that still terrifies me.