As the morning sun crested over the horizon, Wol and Jo Mak played their parts perfectly.
They had decided the night before that they needed to move around without the Grand Elder's eyes constantly watching them. To achieve this, they needed to act like their contract was up, officially leaving the Namgoong territory in their physician disguises, only to sneak back in using their real faces.
As they walked down the main road leading toward the city gates, Wol casually glanced over his shoulder. The road appeared mostly empty, but he could clearly see several figures moving at a specific distance—far enough away to not raise suspicion from ordinary travelers, but close enough to keep them in sight. For Wol and Jo Mak, the spies were moving exactly as they had expected.
"Won't they ever sleep?" Jo Mak whispered in an annoyed tone, walking forward as if he were just admiring the morning city view.
"Four in total," Wol whispered back without moving his lips. "Same as yesterday. And two of them are fairly strong martial artists."
He gave a slight, dismissive point toward a rooftop in the distance. "Since they didn't try to ambush us or sneak into our room last night, it means we haven't given off any signs that we know about the poison."
"It would have been really hard to lay low if they had tried to attack," Jo Mak muttered in agreement.
Wol nodded. As they finally walked past the massive outer city entrance, the guards watched them go. The spies following them did not exit the gate; instead, they lingered near the walls, watching carefully until Wol and Jo Mak's figures completely disappeared from the visible path.
The moment they were out of sight, they moved quickly.
They traveled to a nearby neighboring town and purchased completely new clothes. Finding a quiet spot in the woods, they peeled off Elder Han's flawless skin masks and stored them safely in their packs. They washed the thick mud from their boots and rearranged their hair, completely shifting their postures.
They were no longer the two hired physicians. They had returned to their real faces.
The map Dong Pil had given them detailed a specific way to get back into the territory without passing through the heavily guarded main city gates. They didn't wait, immediately departing for the marked location.
It turned out to be an old, forgotten sewage path leading directly beneath the outer city walls, completely overgrown by thick plants and moss. They lifted the heavy stone grate and slipped down into the damp tunnel. After following the dark, winding path for a mile, they pushed up another grate on the opposite side, emerging perfectly into a low, busy, and impoverished part of the outer city.
They quickly placed the grate back exactly as they had found it.
Jo Mak brushed the thick dust off his shoulders and pulled several damp vines from his hair. He looked around the dirty alleyway and let out a small chuckle. "Reminds me of the old beggar days."
Wol smiled slightly, dusting off his own robes. They continued to walk through the crowded slums, blending in perfectly until they reached the antique shop. Just as planned, Dong Pil had arranged a hidden room in the basement beneath his shop for them to use as a base of operations.
Everything was going well. In the safety of the basement, they double-checked their plan before setting out to investigate the targets on Dong Pil's list one by one.
Since the urgent letter had already been sent to Elder Han, they were currently waiting for his arrival. In the meantime, Dong Pil hadn't been idle. Using his deep roots in the city, he had been secretly gathering loyal people who were quietly unhappy with the clan's current corrupt state, as well as several inner-estate servants who remained fiercely loyal to the Patriarch, treating him like family. Dong Pil now had eyes and ears planted firmly inside the main estate.
For the next two days, the real hunt began.
Operating purely from the shadows, Wol and Jo Mak took turns tailing the individuals on Dong Pil's list. They tracked the merchant who owned the shop selling the Black Vein Dust. They followed the thugs spreading false rumors about the Patriarch's medicine in the slums. They noted every single contact, every business meeting, and every suspicious outsider entering the city.
Slowly, they began to map out the physical layout of the Black Market's web within the Namgoong territory.
On the evening of the third day, they gathered in the dim basement of the antique shop. Dong Pil had just returned from meeting with the loyal servants he had planted inside the main clan building.
The old man spread a piece of parchment across the table, his face grim.
"The servants have been watching the main building closely," Dong Pil reported, tracing a finger over a hand-drawn diagram. "The situation is worse than we thought. For the past two days, numerous outsiders and minor clan leaders have visited the estate. But they aren't going to see the First Young Lord to discuss 'open trade'. They are having private, closed-door meetings directly with the Grand Elder."
Dong Pil tapped a specific location on the map. "Furthermore, one of the maids saw Guard Jin sneaking into the Grand Elder's private quarters through the back door late last night."
Jo Mak frowned, crossing his arms. "So the Grand Elder is completely bypassing the First Son and running the show himself."
"It gets stranger," Dong Pil added, his voice dropping slightly. "The Grand Elder occasionally leaves his room for long periods of time. When he returns, nobody is permitted to enter his quarters. He claims he is 'resting'. But a maid who was clearing the gardens nearby reported hearing bizarre, unsettling sounds coming from his room. Yet, the very next day, he steps out looking completely fine, as if nothing happened."
Wol listened in silence as Dong Pil concluded his report. Based on their own tracking and the servants' intelligence, Wol took a brush and quickly began crossing out and circling names on a list they had compiled.
When he finally set the brush down, Jo Mak leaned over to look at the list. He let out a low whistle.
"That's more than half the people working in the main building," Jo Mak muttered. "The Grand Elder hasn't just infiltrated the staff—he basically owns the estate."
"How is this even possible?" Wol asked, looking at Dong Pil. "The Namgoong Clan is renowned for its martial power. Where is the clan's main army? Where are the generals?"
Dong Pil let out a heavy, regretful sigh. He knew exactly what Wol meant.
"The clan's army is indeed strong," Dong Pil explained, his voice lined with sorrow. "But the generals still feel deeply responsible for letting this happen to the Patriarch in the first place. They are fiercely loyal to him."
He pointed a finger toward the edge of the map. "Their main training grounds are situated far to the north of the Namgoong territory. Unlike any other clan which keeps its military close to the core for protection, the Namgoong have always respected the separation of civilian territory and military involvement. It was designed that way because of how peacefully the territory was managed throughout the years."
Dong Pil shook his head. "But now, the situation has changed. The military isn't here to protect the core because they have been doing everything in their power to find the elusive culprit for years, entirely unaware that the true enemy is sitting right here in the main hall."
"If we can save the Patriarch and reveal this treason," Dong Pil added, his eyes hardening, "the entire army will instantly march on the Grand Elder without a second thought."
Wol tapped his finger thoughtfully against the wooden table. A direct military confrontation wasn't their job, but taking down the head of the snake might be.
"Elder Pil," Wol asked, his tone shifting into something sharper, calculating. "The Grand Elder... exactly how strong is he?"
Dong Pil was silent for a long moment. He closed his eyes, recalling memories from decades ago.
"In terms of pure martial strength?" Dong Pil finally said, his voice grave. "He is stronger than both the current Patriarch and the previous one."
Jo Mak's eyes widened slightly.
"I have not seen him fight in over twenty years," Dong Pil continued, "but even back then, he had reached a stage where he could effortlessly slice through solid rock with just his bare finger. He is underhanded, cruel, and manipulative... but he was undeniably a martial genius. He was once considered the greatest hope of the Namgoong clan. It was only his twisted personality that ruined his position and cost him the Patriarch's seat."
"A genius who has been hiding his true strength for decades," Wol muttered, his eyes darkening. "That means if we are forced to engage in a life-or-death battle before the Patriarch is cured, we will have serious trouble dealing with him."
Dong Pil nodded solemnly. "That is why we must avoid fighting him directly. If we can administer the cure and get the soldiers on our side, his personal strength won't matter against an entire army."
The old man then reached into his robe and pulled out a small, wooden token, sliding it across the table toward Wol.
"Also," Dong Pil said, "I have sent that second letter you asked me to send. A formal request to the Murim Alliance for an official inspection of the Patriarch's condition."
Wol picked up the token, tracing the carving on its surface. This was the second part of his plan. Having an official from the Alliance present would guarantee oversight when the cure was administered and would be crucial in legally exposing the Grand Elder's treason.
Wol knew better than anyone that the Murim Alliance was crawling with corrupted individuals, but in the daylight and in the presence of the public, even the most corrupt officials were forced to stay behind their righteous masks. However, seeing the token, Wol realized Dong Pil had managed to contact someone special.
Carved deeply into the wood was the unmistakable crest of the Wudang Sect: a sharp, elegant sword with a perfectly balanced yin-yang symbol resting behind it.
Based on this token and the person it belonged to, the list of candidates could be narrowed down to exactly one person. Wol had only heard good things about him in his past life. More importantly, Wol remembered that this man was noticeably absent during Wol's own rigged trial in his previous life—a rare sign of an uncorrupted conscience.
"The Righteous Sword..." Wol murmured, his eyes narrowing in recognition. "Zhang Qingxuan."
"I remember he once visited the Sect Leader to discuss something related to the Alliance," Jo Mak confirmed, looking at Wol with serious eyes. "Even in the Beggar Sect, he was well-respected. Wol, he is an honorable man. If there is anyone we can trust with this, it would be him."
If the First Disciple of the Beggar Sect vouched for him, that was good enough for Wol. With the Murim Alliance now secretly involved through Zhang Qingxuan, the pieces on the board were finally evening out.
Wol slid the token back toward Dong Pil, who tucked it safely away.
"Alright," Wol said, his voice decisive as he stood up from the table. "Our strategy changes. Guard Jin is too dangerous, and the Grand Elder is too strong. We cannot deliver Elder Han's cure to the Patriarch directly."
Dong Pil frowned. "Then what do we do? If the Patriarch doesn't get this medicine soon, he will die."
"He will get it," Wol said, a cold smile forming on his lips. "If we cannot feed the Patriarch the cure without raising alarms... we will make the Grand Elder do it for us."
Dong Pil and Jo Mak stared at him in stunned silence.
"I will need some time to prepare the trap, and we need the actual medicine," Wol added, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "We wait for Elder Han."
A week passed in tense silence.
The atmosphere inside the Namgoong territory grew heavier by the day. Rumors spread through the outer city that the Patriarch had completely lost consciousness, and that the Grand Elder was silently preparing for the inevitable transfer of absolute power.
But just as the tension reached its breaking point, a heavy wooden carriage from River Dragon City slipped through the outer gates undetected.
By noon, the hidden basement beneath the antique shop was full. Elder Han had finally arrived, shedding a thick travel cloak. Flanking him were Goo Jung and his two sworn brothers, looking massively out of place but wearing heavy disguises.
"I received your letters," Elder Han said, his face grave. He didn't waste a single second on pleasantries. Reaching into his leather travel bag, he pulled out a small, ornate wooden box. "It took me a week of non-stop brewing to stabilize the formula, but it is finally done. This is the perfect cure."
Wol stepped forward and carefully took the wooden box, feeling the heavy weight of their entire plan in his hands. He looked up at Dong Pil and Jo Mak.
"The final piece is here," Wol said softly.
That very same night, Wol made his move.
Deep in the outer city, long past midnight, the streets around the Black Market merchant's shop were dead silent. This was the specific shop responsible for funneling the Black Lotus Poison into the Namgoong estate's vegetable supply.
Wol, dressed entirely in black night clothes, clung to the ceiling beams inside the shop's heavily guarded storehouse.
Below him, the storehouse was crawling with Black Market mercenaries.
Closing his eyes, Wol extended his senses outward while the qi surrounding him synched to his body as his own, activating the Qi sensing technique he had recently mastered. Instantly, the pitch-black warehouse illuminated in his mind. He could feel the exact location, breathing rhythm, and Qi signatures of every single guard patrolling the building. There were eight men in total, crisscrossing the floor in a complex patrol pattern.
In the center of the room sat a reinforced iron safe. Wol had spent the last seven days tracking the merchant's movements, waiting for the exact moment the Black Market delivered the final, concentrated dose of the poison—the lethal dose meant to finally kill the Patriarch tomorrow.
It had arrived less than an hour ago.
Wol waited patiently on the beam, his breathing completely masked. He watched the Qi signatures move through his mental web. He waited for the exact five-second window where the overlapping patrol routes left the center of the room in a blind spot.
When the moment came, Wol dropped silently from the rafters like a shadow.
He landed directly behind the single guard stationed by the iron safe. Before the man could even register the shift in the air, a swift, precise strike to the back of the neck sent him collapsing quietly into Wol's arms.
Wol lowered the man to the floor without making a sound. He only had seconds before the other patrols circled back.
He quickly approached the iron safe. Using a thin piece of wire he had coated in his internal Qi, Wol bypassed the heavy lock mechanism instantly. The iron door clicked open.
Inside sat a beautiful, dark jade vial. The final lethal dose of Black Lotus Poison.
Wol reached into his own robes and pulled out the small wooden box containing Elder Han's miraculous cure.
With steady hands, Wol unsealed the dark jade vial, carefully pouring the deadly poison into an empty glass flask he had brought with him. Then, he took Elder Han's cure and poured the life-saving medicine directly into the merchant's jade vial.
He wiped the rim clean, perfectly resealed the jade vial, and placed it back into the iron safe, locking it tight.
Wol stood up, holding the glass flask swirling with the real, deadly poison. He looked down at the iron safe, a chilling smile spreading across his face in the dark.
Tomorrow morning, the merchant would proudly deliver the jade vial to the Grand Elder. And the Grand Elder, believing it to be the final lethal dose of poison, would feed it directly to the Patriarch with his own two hands.
It was the ultimate trap.
Wol slipped back into the shadows and vanished into the night, leaving the guard to wake up with a terrible headache.