Chapter 11 - Jangho

In the end, Dong Bongsu decided not to kill them. He might change his mind again, but for now, at least, he saw no particular need.

Whether or not they realized that their lives had just reached the threshold of the underworld and returned in an instant, Do Paldu and his thugs kept walking.

They led Dong Bongsu to a secluded corner at the very end of the alley. Hardly anyone had ever come here, even before. With the mood in town these days, there was no chance anyone would show up.

SMACK.

Once Do Paldu was certain no one was around, he slapped Dong Bongsu across the face without warning.

His palm was so large and broad that it resembled an animal's paw. Unless you were a martial artist, there was no way to withstand a blow from a hand like that.

With a crisp sound of flesh striking flesh, Dong Bongsu went sprawling on the ground.

This was the customary beating the thugs administered before taking someone's money. For lowlife hoodlums, violence was one of life's pleasures, every bit as enjoyable as stealing money and spending it.

For men at rock bottom, exploiting and tormenting those down in the basement offered a little amusement in their stinking lives.

Their victims might weep tears of blood, but to human scum like them, violence?

It was what gave life its spark.

THUD. THUD-THUD-THUD.

Dong Bongsu silently endured the beating from Do Paldu and his thugs. Yet as he lay facedown, his eyes shone white against the ground. Had Do Paldu seen them, he probably would have pissed himself or never dared extort Dong Bongsu again.

Those were not human eyes. Nor were they the murderous eyes of a lion or tiger, a carnivore at the top of the food chain.

They held only nothingness. Not a trace of emotion.

Anyone who wonders what could be frightening about emotionless eyes can only say that because they have never encountered such a gaze.

Every living creature has feelings. They are especially sensitive to pain. Yet Dong Bongsu looked like someone who felt no emotion at all—particularly pain.

Imagine eyes that remain utterly untroubled even as blood pours freely. Few people could meet that gaze and remain unaffected.

THUD. THUD-THUD...

The gang's beating continued as though it would never end. Their kicking stopped only when a voice rang out.

"What do you think you're doing?"

It was a deep, weighty voice. Still lying facedown, Dong Bongsu raised his head and looked toward its source. A burly man dressed in black stood there, looking to be in his thirties. With his sturdy build, he seemed at first glance to be another thug.

"J-Jangho, sir!"

"I asked what you're doing."

But Dong Bongsu had been mistaken.

Jangho was, in fact, a member of the Black Society, one of the three unorthodox gangs controlling Fengyang's back alleys. Do Paldu and his men might make their living as hoodlums, but even in that world, they were at the bottom.

All such thugs had to pay taxes to the unorthodox gangs operating more sinisterly in the darker reaches above them. The gangs practiced basic martial arts such as the Three Forces Sword Art, making them incomparably stronger than these back-alley hoodlums. Sometimes the thugs even had to take the blame for crimes committed by gang members and be hauled off by the authorities.

Though Jangho was only a rank-and-file member of the Black Society, Do Paldu, leader of his little band of thugs, could not begin to compare with him. No one in Fengyang would care if Jangho killed Do Paldu. The same went for Do Paldu's underlings.

Dong Bongsu realized that things were not going as he had expected. Still, he did not yet feel any particular need to eliminate them.

Quietly, he spat out the blood pooled in his mouth and sat upright. Remaining in that position, he took hold of Yeoro's dangling reins and watched the situation closely.

"Ah, uh, this little bastard was getting uppity, so we were making an example of him..."

Without a word, Jangho glanced at Dong Bongsu, then looked at Yeoro.

"..."

A strange gleam came into his eyes.

In contrast, Dong Bongsu's eyes grew dark and still. He had read the flicker of greed in Jangho's gaze.

With measured footsteps, Jangho turned and slowly approached Do Paldu.

Sensing something ominous in his manner, Do Paldu backed away in faltering steps.

"S-Sir! Wh-why are you—!"

CRACK.

Jangho suddenly lunged at Do Paldu, seized his arm, and wrenched it backward.

"Aaargh!"

"Aren't you getting uppity with me right now, too?"

Judging by the unnatural angle at which Do Paldu's arm bent the wrong way, it was clearly crippled. He would probably have to live left-handed for the rest of his life. That also put an end to his time as leader of the thugs. One of the underlings trembling farther back would likely become their new boss. Assuming, of course, that they survived today.

Jangho showed no interest whatsoever in the fact that he had crippled Do Paldu. He planted a foot on the head of the man writhing on the ground in agony, pressed down deliberately, then approached Dong Bongsu again.

"A fine horse. What breed is it?"

Jangho stroked Yeoro's mane with care.

Dong Bongsu knew Jangho was asking him, but did not answer. Wasn't he supposed to be mute? He could answer if he wanted, but the moment he did, he would have to kill everyone here. To do that, he first needed a clear understanding of his opponents. He had already sized up Do Paldu and his thugs and was confident he could dispose of them without trouble...

The problem was Jangho, looming over him right now.

Dong Bongsu had met him for the first time today. Needless to say, he knew nothing about the man. That was what made him hesitate.

"I asked what breed this horse is."

Jangho's voice grew heavier.

Dong Bongsu detected the killing intent concealed deep within it.

'Is he after me?'

He was certain of it. He did not know exactly why, but the man before him intended to kill him.

Just as he suspected, Jangho had come here targeting Dong Bongsu from the start. No, to be more precise, he was targeting Yeoro.

Bang Poyeom, the Leader of the Black Society, was a man who went absolutely mad for fine horses. He had coveted Danri Cheon-u's horse, Yeoro, for a long time.

But he knew full well that laying a hand on Yeoro could result in the Black Society being wiped out of Fengyang.

Still, since when was human greed easily quelled simply by holding it in?

For a long time, he had ordered Jangho to watch Yeoro—or, more precisely, the horse handlers in charge of Yeoro. Then he had recently heard that a mute idiot named Sosam had been put in charge of the horse.

Deciding that his time had finally come, he ordered Jangho to steal Yeoro. Jangho had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to carry out Bang Poyeom's command, and he had decided that opportunity was now.

If he killed Sosam, Do Paldu, and all his men here, then disposed of Do Paldu's body alone, Do Paldu would take all the blame.

CRACK. CRACKLE.

Jangho casually bent back the fingers of both hands, cracking their joints as he slowly stirred up his killing intent.

There was no choice now.

'I have to fight.'

Feeling the killing intent creeping from Jangho's body, Dong Bongsu smiled inwardly. Unlike before, he was now certain.

Certain that he could take Jangho.

Nothing was more foolish than radiating intense killing intent in front of your prey. Had anyone ever seen a tiger or lion reveal its intent to kill before securing its prey? Never.

A true hunter did not reveal its killing intent until it sank its teeth into its prey's throat. It must not. If a hunter stirred up killing intent before the hunt and let its prey escape, it lacked the makings of a hunter.

And besides.

He was no ordinary prey.

Jangho had misjudged his target.

Planting a hand firmly on one knee, Dong Bongsu slowly rose to his feet. His head remained bowed toward the ground. To anyone watching, he still looked terrified.

"I don't ask three times."

With that, Jangho seized Dong Bongsu's arm.

It happened at that very moment.

"Then kill me. Why bother asking three times?"

The voice had no inflection. If voices had highs and lows, every note of this one would sit at exactly the same level. Who but a machine could produce such a voice? No one but Dong Bongsu could have managed it.

Those were the first words Dong Bongsu had spoken to anyone since arriving in Murim. They were utterly characteristic of him. Not just their content, but their consequences, too, were naturally just like him.

"Huh!? You can talk?"

Jangho was slightly taken aback when Sosam, whom he had believed mute, suddenly spoke. It might have seemed insignificant, but that tiny opening was enough for Dong Bongsu. He snapped his head up.

SHUNK.

When in the world had it appeared?

A knife was clenched between Dong Bongsu's upper and lower teeth.

"H-how..."

The blade had pierced straight through one side of Jangho's neck, burrowing through the flesh. The tip of the sharp dagger protruded from the other side, glinting grotesquely amid the blood.

CRACK.

Dong Bongsu seized Jangho's neck as he asked how and snapped it.

"I don't know either."

Even as his life slipped away, Jangho kept making strangled noises and spewing bloody froth, as though there were something he desperately wanted to know. His eyes seemed to ask how Dong Bongsu could speak with a knife in his mouth.

The knife was already gone from Dong Bongsu's mouth. It was back in his Inventory.

"It just works. Like this."