Iron-Blood Gate Leader
"Get up and show the way."
At the ice-cold voice, the man hurriedly stood up.
He hesitated as he moved, one hand clutching his cheek.
Blood leaked endlessly through his fingers.
He had been slapped, not with a sword or a fist.
For a martial artist, this was a deep humiliation.
Even more so because it happened in the inner courtyard of his own sect; he might have protested, but he seed so utterly cowed by that single blow that he simply walked into the tavern without a word.
"......"
Inside the tavern, the once-bustling atmosphere of the previous night was gone, replaced by profound silence.
Even the sll of alcohol had faded completely, leaving only the faint afterscent of so unknown incense hanging in the air.
"Th-this way..."
With slurred speech, the man opened his mouth with so effort and climbed the stairs first.
Jeong-un followed silently behind him. Only the creaking of their footsteps broke the tavern's hush.
They soon arrived, not at the top fifth floor, but the fourth-floor hallway.
The hallway was lined by doors on either side, all alike in design.
The man glanced at Jeong-un, then walked ahead again. He stopped at the door furthest down the corridor.
"You can go in... here."
Intimidated by Jeong-un's cold stare, his words trailed off, and his tone shifted.
Jeong-un entered through the door the man opened.
It was a much bigger room than the one from yesterday.
It wasn't the top floor, but it was clearly reserved for guests of considerable status.
At the back of the room was a large table laden with food and drink.
Step, step.
Jeong-un approached naturally, sat with his back against the wall at the head of the table.
The guide confird that and then spoke,
"Please wait... a mont."
He closed the door carefully and left.
"......"
Silence sank into the room.
Jeong-un stared quietly at the food and drink laid out on the table, then turned his gaze back to the door.
He had already been broadening his sensitivity for a while.
There were many presences within his range—and footsteps were already echoing to his ears.
At last, the door was flung open harshly.
Thunk!
A group of people stord in, each wielding swords, sabers, even iron rods.
At their center stood a middle-aged man who glared at Jeong-un with burning eyes—obviously the leader.
The man walked in coolly, sat by the door, and the attendants who followed whisked the large table from in front of Jeong-un over to the man.
Then, they brought a small folding screen and set it up behind the middle-aged man.
In an instant, the entire layout had flipped. Jeong-un was pushed into a corner, so to speak.
Jeong-un gave a short, ironic laugh.
Setting up that much formality—with a painted screen and all—for a bunch of lowlife thugs was simply ridiculous.
Then the middle-aged man spoke.
"I can't tell if you're bold or insane. I didn't expect you to simply walk in here alone."
Jeong-un squinted slightly as he looked at the man.
"Are you, by chance, Iron-Blood Gate Leader, Neung Ji-seok?"
At his words, Neung Ji-seok's face contorted. With a voice trembling with rage, he spat out,
"You bastard, so you ca here with intent after all! Who sent you? If you tell , I'll let you die painlessly."
"......"
Jeong-un's eyes widened, as if he couldn't quite believe it.
'Just like that?'
He had expected more back-and-forth. Even for a thieves' sect, there had to be so kind of structure.
Just because he'd caused trouble at one of their establishnts, he hadn't thought the Gate Leader himself would show up.
That was why he had distinctly shown his power—deliberately left soone alive to spread the word, so that they'd be on edge.
A defeated survivor always exaggerates what happened in a fight.
And yet, he was already facing the Gate Leader at his seat.
From what he'd heard, Iron-Blood Gate, one of the Musan Group's three pillars, was not a small organization.
They owned not just the five taverns, but businesses of various kinds, oppressing the livelihoods of Kaifeng's citizens on multiple fronts.
Rumor had it the number of disciples scattered throughout Kaifeng was double that of most sects.
Jeong-un had thought it would be far harder to et the boss. He hadn't expected it to be this easy.
'This will make things simpler.'
For an instant, he wondered if maybe this guy's identity was a ruse. But it seed unlikely.
The leader of any large group, even of thugs, gave off a unique pressure.
No matter how crude the organization, the boss always plays the king.
And Neung Ji-seok had exactly that aura.
Jeong-un looked over the n standing to Neung Ji-seok's left and right, then slowly spoke.
"Don't dark sects live by survival of the fittest? I've heard that being weak is a sin among you."
"What are you implying?"
"I say it because you don't seem to be the strongest here."
"......!"
At that, a roar erupted from those standing to Neung Ji-seok's sides.
"Crazy bastard, does he know where he is?"
"How dare you spout such nonsense before the Gate Leader!"
"I'll rip out your tongue and make you chew it!"
They shouted fiercely, more to show loyalty to their leader than anything directed at Jeong-un himself.
But Neung Ji-seok only scowled slightly. He stared piercingly at Jeong-un, then raised a hand to quiet the uproar.
"Young whelp, you're suspiciously calm. Judging by your look, you must've been a troublemaker in so minor sect. Where are you from?"
"That's none of your business."
"... Do you understand your predicant?"
"I'm calculating."
Jeong-un replied calmly. Again, discontent spread through the gathered n who didn't like his attitude.
At that mont, Jeong-un was planning his next move. There were quite a few enemies.
Not that he feared being outmatched; he was simply weighing efficiency.
While Jeong-un was lost in those thoughts, Neung Ji-seok snorted and spoke.
"Looks like you grew up pampered at so no-na clan and got kicked out after causing trouble. It's not like anyone of true status would be acting up here."
"......."
"So what is it? Is it the Black Hand Gate? Did they promise you money and glory? Offer you a pouch of silver coins to tarnish Iron-Blood Gate's reputation? Or perhaps they promised you my head?"
With that, Neung Ji-seok sneered slyly.
"Your silence tells I've hit the mark."
"......."
"Hmph, keeping your mouth shut is useless. I'm going to extract everything from you. We have plenty of thods. Even if you don't want to talk, I'll make you spill everything. I'll chop off your limbs and cauterize them just enough so you don't bleed out. And then, for every question, I'll carve away a piece of your flesh. I was curious to test out the efficacy of the mountain scorpion venom I just acquired—perfect timing."
While Neung Ji-seok rambled, Jeong-un nodded, his decision made.
"That sounds good."
"What?"
"I've finished my calculations."
The mont Neung Ji-seok frowned at Jeong-un's mysterious words—
Jeong-un's left arm twitched. A movent to draw his sword. But there was no master here sharp enough to catch that fleeting sign.
The big table had already been moved out of the way, nothing left to block his path.
Even if it had, it would have been smashed. Sitting, Jeong-un reversed his grip on his sword guard at his waist with his left hand.
He thrust his left arm forward.
Sreung!
With a sharp whistle as the sword unsheathed, vital ki burst forth. The sword flew in a straight line.
Pwoosh!
Blood sprayed in a thin line from the folding screen set up behind Neung Ji-seok.
"......?"
Everyone stared in bewildernt at what had just happened.
Each of them turned to look at their chief, slack-jawed, as if unable to process the reality.
"Gkk... gkk..."
Neung Ji-seok's eyes rolled up toward the ceiling.
The sound from his mouth was sowhere between a death rattle and an unfinished word.
He collapsed forward onto the table, losing all balance.
Thud!
The food and drink spilled across the table. Blood flowed and spread among it.
Witnessing this unbelievable scene, the n standing in line muttered in shock.
"W-what...?"
"What just happened...?"
One of them began to shake violently.
With his mouth agape, he stared dumbly at Neung Ji-seok, then suddenly his face twisted with rage.
"You son of a bitch!"
He stamped forward, wielding a massive iron mace.
He charged straight at Jeong-un, raising the weapon above his head and bringing it down with all his might.
Screech!
At the sa mont as Jeong-un rose to his feet, he raised his right hand.
The true ki circulating within his body flowed smoothly through his ridians and shot down to his fingertips.
He fixed his gaze on the descending mace.
Crash!
He caught the mace in his bare palm. The n watching gawked in disbelief.
To stop a mace, filled with cultivation, with your bare hand?
Impossible even with teamwork!
"Huh...?"
In a daze, the man stared down at Jeong-un.
Perhaps no one had ever stopped one of his blows before. The man clearly had no plan for what ca next.
Jeong-un grimaced as he looked at the man's thick-bearded face. The heavy breathing at such close range was unpleasant.
"......"
In that brief mont, Jeong-un glanced at the mace.
It was filthy from lack of care, little more than a lump of crude iron.
No sophisticated skills needed to make it. Of course, unlike swords or sabers, there was nothing to maintain.
But at the mace's head, fresh bloodstains stood out. How many lives had it claid?
Jeong-un felt his grip tighten.
Whoosh!
Then his other hand moved. True ki, concentrated around the joints of his left arm, amplified the pressure his bones and muscles could withstand.
Condensing energy and releasing energy happened simultaneously in his short muscle fibers.
Smack!
His left fist shot out and utterly shattered the attacker's jaw.
Compared to his previous opponents, this man was nothing—a minor player at best, and even though he was the strongest among those here now, to Jeong-un he was little more than a bug.
Splatter—
Far more blood exploded than when the black sword pierced Neung Ji-seok's head.
The upper and lower jaw were obliterated, the cheekbones pulverized—the face was unrecognizable.
Thump!
The massive man fell beside Jeong-un, like a dead tree.
"......"
Silence imdiately filled the room. The n unconsciously let their weapons droop to the floor.
Their fighting spirit had vanished. Witnessing the empty deaths of Neung Ji-seok, their Gate Leader, and Jodal, the sect's top expert, had shattered them.
They now closed their mouths tightly, lost in shock.
Surveying them, Jeong-un spoke.
"From now on, I am the Iron-Blood Gate Leader."
"......!"
"Anyone with complaints, co forward now—let's not drag this out."
"......"
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