Chapter 225 - An Honored Guest Will Come Today

The next morning, I went to see the Wicked Laughing Demon before we departed.

“What brings you here?”

“Let’s go to Thousand Flowers Pavilion by ourselves, Laughing Demon.”

His personal relationship with the mistress of Thousand Flowers Pavilion was an entirely private matter, and I felt it was a secret I ought to protect.

But his reply surprised me.

“There’s no need. Let’s all go and proceed with the original plan.”

“You needn’t force yourself to do something you’re uncomfortable with. Strategist Go and the others can help from outside.”

“That isn’t why.”

He had an unexpected reason for wanting everyone to come.

“I want to introduce them to the mistress of Thousand Flowers Pavilion.”

The Poison King, Seo Daeryong, Go Wol, and even the Wind Heaven Cult Leader.

“She’s an ambitious woman. But she’s held back from doing many things she wanted to do because of me. Meeting these people and getting to know them will be a great help to her.”

I could tell that he truly cherished her. And I could also tell that his regard for her went beyond mere affection, embracing something far more generous.

“And above all, they’re people you trust, Second Young Master, aren’t they? So it’s fine.”

I thought his decision was wise. There were times when keeping something safely hidden was best, and times when bringing it out into the world was better. This would be the latter. At the very least, I didn’t think anyone among us would do her harm. We settled the matter with a smile at each other.

When I left his quarters and entered the courtyard, Go Wol was loading luggage onto the carriage in preparation for our departure. Something about his expression suggested he had a great deal on his mind.

“Strategist Go. Don’t agonize over it so much. Enjoy yourself. You’ll devise countless plans throughout your life as a strategist, but you won’t often have me, the Laughing Demon, and the Poison King carrying them out. So enjoy the opportunity.”

Go Wol bowed his head with a grateful expression. Beside him, the Wind Heaven Cult Leader didn’t forget to add a jealous remark.

“You always earn with one remark the points I need a hundred to earn.”

“Have faith in Strategist Go. He’ll give me one point and you a hundred, Cult Leader.”

Having reassured my one and only strategist—and the cult leader as well—I called out loudly.

“All right, let’s be off!”

* * *

It was a lavishly decorated room.

The custom-made bed could have held ten people with room to spare, and the furniture filling the spacious chamber consisted of expensive, precious pieces made by master craftsmen. Not only the porcelain and paintings displayed throughout, but even a single door handle cost enough to make anyone gasp.

A dozen or so women knelt in the large, opulent room. They wore thin clothes that revealed their bare flesh, and varied in both age and beauty. Yet they all shared one expression.

Despair.

They stared at the floor with all the despair in the world in their eyes.

Yeo Bulgae sat in the middle, with the women seated in rows on either side. His hair was white and his skin deeply wrinkled, but his eyes burned with as much passion as a young man’s.

He was reading a carrier-pigeon message.

Not long after Ji Saeng’s death, news had now arrived that Ae Cha was dead.

His deeply wrinkled hand clenched around the message, crumpling it, before he threw it at one woman’s head. After it struck her and fell, she picked it up and burned it in the lamp.

“What do you make of this?”

Hwang Yeom, seated directly opposite him, answered respectfully.

“They never showed it openly, but they looked down on us for trading in women.”

In short, this was a roundabout way of saying good riddance. As Yeo Bulgae’s right-hand man, Hwang Yeom knew his master better than anyone.

Indeed, Yeo Bulgae felt much the same.

The late Ji Saeng and Ae Cha had been nobodies with outsized pride, forever looking down on others. Neither had ever greeted him first. Thus, what concerned him more than their deaths was this:

“What I’m asking is whether someone from outside has come after us.”

“It would be best to rule out that possibility.”

“Why?”

“The investigation established conclusively that they died because of internal conflict. Our superiors would have investigated with the utmost vigilance. If someone is skilled enough to fool them, what chance would we have of surviving?”

The wrinkles on Yeo Bulgae’s forehead deepened.

“Are you uneasy?”

“I could be the next target.”

He had no idea that a single wish filled the eyes of the women sitting with bowed heads on either side of him. Please, let him be next!

“I’ll summon every expert we can mobilize, just in case.”

Yeo Bulgae nodded. Ordinarily, he would joke:

Even the King of the Underworld wouldn’t take me. He’d say I would foul up hell.

But that was a joke he made only when he was certain he wouldn’t die. Faced with actual danger, he was more sensitive to death than anyone.

“And just in case... contact the Yin-Yang Demons too.”

Hwang Yeom flinched at the mention of the Yin-Yang Demons, but promptly answered without protest.

“Understood.”

In the past, that would have prompted an exchange of objections. Mobilizing them cost too much. Letting them loose in Murim might cause trouble for no reason. Their superiors wouldn’t like that. But it was pleasant to be able to skip all that now.

Hwang Yeom knew him so well these days that it felt like having another body. To give one simple example, a mere look in his eyes was enough for Hwang Yeom to pick out precisely the woman he had chosen from among dozens.

“I’m not afraid of dying, but I haven’t fulfilled my dream yet.”

Yeo Bulgae dreamed of establishing his pleasure houses throughout the entire Central Plains, leaving no corner untouched.

He had used every imaginable means to expand his network across the Central Plains. Some he had built himself; others he had seized from their owners.

Every kind of tactic had been employed in the process. He sent troublemakers to create havoc, spread false rumors, drugged food to make customers ill, and even set pleasure houses on fire.

One might wonder whether such crude methods would work, but surprisingly, they were the most effective. By ruining their reputations, he eliminated competing pleasure houses or bought them for next to nothing. Whenever an owner killed themselves in the process, Yeo Bulgae felt a thrill of pleasure.

“You must cling to life and fulfill your dream, Master. Now, here’s a new dream for you.”

Hwang Yeom presented a document containing information on Thousand Flowers Pavilion. It was the most famous pleasure house in Guizhou, where they intended to expand, so they had decided to take it first.

As Yeo Bulgae examined the contents, greed shone in his eyes.

“The estimated profits are enormous.”

“It earns more than any establishment we own in the Central Plains.”

“Are the courtesans beautiful?”

“That too, but its mistress is also known for her business acumen.”

“You said its mistress was a woman?”

“Yes. She handles both the courtesans and the customers well. They say even the martial artists in her service respect her.”

“She’s still nothing but a worthless bitch.”

Disdain for women was innate to him. He despised and hated them so much that Hwang Yeom suspected he might have suffered cruel abuse from his mother or some other woman as a child. His pathological lust clearly stemmed not from affection, but from hatred.

“How does she look?”

“I’ve heard she’s quite beautiful.”

Yeo Bulgae’s eyes became languid, revealing his lust. His gaze turned toward the women. Every one of them had once been the mistress of a pleasure house. The world believed them missing or dead.

Women who had abruptly handed their pleasure houses over to Yeo Bulgae and vanished overnight. Women their families and friends had searched for endlessly, only never to find them.

Yeo Bulgae had been abducting and collecting the beautiful mistresses of the pleasure houses he seized. It was an outrage that would enrage heaven and humanity alike, but no word of it had reached the outside world. Even if someone had learned the truth, they would not have dared confront him.

“That will finally balance things out.”

There were nine women in all; he meant that the mistress of Thousand Flowers Pavilion would make ten.

Hwang Yeom nodded reassuringly, signaling that once the matter was settled, he would deliver her to Yeo Bulgae’s bedchamber.

“The Black and White Sabers have already gone.”

The Black and White Sabers were Yeo Bulgae’s agents, little known in Murim. Their martial skill was formidable, but more importantly, they had been raised from childhood as ruthless blades who obeyed orders without question. They possessed no human feelings.

Half-baked schemes would not work on Thousand Flowers Pavilion, so he had sent them in immediately.

The plan was to abduct its mistress outright and force her to stamp the contract. The nine women here had all suffered the same fate.

“Tell them to bring her back safely without laying a finger on her!”

The lecherous old man’s concern never changed.

* * *

“An honored guest will come today.”

Yeo Jeong, the mistress of Thousand Flowers Pavilion, had ordered her quarters and the inner courtyard cleaned first thing that morning. She took more care than usual with her makeup and attire.

The maids and servants bustled about.

They had learned through repeated experience that whenever their mistress announced an honored guest was coming, someone would invariably arrive that day. At first, they assumed she knew because she had received advance notice. But once they realized that many of those guests arrived unexpectedly, they all understood she was someone extraordinary.

Today, however, it seemed even she had been wrong.

The people who entered the inner courtyard were not honored guests, but unwelcome intruders.

The Black and White Sabers had stormed in, wearing long robes of black and white.

The mistress sent the servants and maids inside. At the same time, the martial artists who guarded her in the inner courtyard emerged.

Though outnumbered, the Black and White Sabers showed no fear. On the contrary, the pair’s imposing presence overwhelmed everyone, bringing tense expressions to the faces of the pavilion’s guards.

The mistress asked calmly,

“Where have you gentlemen come from?”

Black Saber, the black-robed member of the pair, spoke to her.

“Our master wants to see you. Come.”

His tone was cold and blunt, utterly devoid of emotion. In a way, he sounded like a child—or like a block of wood or stone had begun to speak.

“And who is your master?”

“You’ll know when you get there.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m expecting an honored guest today. It will have to wait for another occasion.”

Naturally, that meant nothing to the Black and White Sabers.

“No one is more honored than our master.”

With that, the two strode forward. Four of the eight martial artists standing before her leaped at them together. The remaining four surrounded their mistress.

Swords and sabers clashed in rapid succession.

These were experts who had protected Thousand Flowers Pavilion all this time, but the Black and White Sabers were stronger.

Before they could last even ten or so exchanges, two of the four attackers fell with long slashes across their arms and waists.

Just as the Black and White Sabers raised their blades to finish them, the mistress leaped forward and blocked their path.

“If you intend to kill these men, you’ll have to kill me too.”

Their mission was to bring her back, so the pair lowered their sabers.

She pressed the wounded men’s pressure points to staunch their bleeding.

“Get yourselves treated and wait here. I’ll be back.”

“You can’t, Mistress!”

The other martial artists stepped forward to stop her, but she firmly restrained them.

“Everyone, stop!”

At her command, they froze. They all knew that continuing to fight would mean dying for nothing. Never since the pavilion’s founding had experts of this caliber invaded it.

“If you throw your lives away here, the regret will haunt me for the rest of my days. I won’t be able to live properly. Stand down and protect the pavilion. An honored guest will arrive today. Tell him what happened.”

Forcing her guards to withdraw, she approached the Black and White Sabers. She showed no fear at all.

At the sight of her, the pair glanced at one another and cocked their heads. They had abducted many women, but never had they seen one so composed.

The mistress gazed steadily at them.

“I’m rather good at seeing people’s futures. But yours are so pitch-black that I can’t make them out.”

The Black and White Sabers laughed coldly and strode toward her.

Just as Black Saber reached out to seal her paralysis points, a streak of finger force shot toward him as fast as light.

WHEEE! THWACK!

The attack pierced the back of Black Saber’s hand, leaving a hole through it.

He let out a short cry. Just as he tried to staunch the wound:

WHEEE! THWACK!

This time, it pierced the elbow of the other arm—the one he was using to stop the bleeding.

“Ugh!”

As Black Saber instinctively ducked:

WHEE! THWACK!

This time, his shoulder was pierced. The attack came too fast to evade.

The instant he turned toward its source, more streaks of finger force flew at him in succession.

His abdomen, waist, and knee were pierced one after another. Raining down on him, the finger force tore his body to shreds.

“Aaaaaaagh!”

Black Saber screamed in agony, as though releasing every scream he had held back his entire life.

WHEEE! THWACK!

Finally, his forehead was pierced, and he toppled forward.

The streaks of finger force had come so swiftly, one after another, that everyone could only watch him die. Even White Saber had merely stood watching Black Saber’s death unfold in this utterly unforeseen situation.

Only now did everyone turn toward the source of the attacks. A radiant smile spread across the mistress’s lips.

Wearing his white mask, the Wicked Laughing Demon was walking steadily toward them.