Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 35

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 35. The Sword Phantom Robbed
“I can’t make sense of this.”
Dang Seogi furrowed his brow, speaking half to himself.
“If Gu Cheonseong is Goidong Jidan, then what exactly are they after?”
Ho Yeon nodded at Dang Seogi’s words and opened his mouth.
“The uses for kidnapped children are quite limited, after all.”
“True enough. First, pretty ones would be sold as courtesans or entertainers.”
“If they came from a prominent family, you could hold them for ransom.”
“And then there’s… farm laborers? Mine slaves? Salt workers? But if that were the case, it’d be far more efficient to take adults instead……”
He turned the matter over in his mind from every angle, yet the gains from child abduction seemed meager.
Children lacked the physical strength and endurance of adults, making them far less useful as assets.
Easier to snatch, certainly—but if you weren’t going to kill them, you had to feed and shelter them, and all that cost money.
‘Unless he’s just a petty bandit, Gu Cheonseong personally taking children doesn’t make for sound economics.’
As Dang Seogi fell into thought, Ho Yeon tossed out an idea.
“Or perhaps to groom them as assassins.”
“What?”
“To create truly fearless assassins, you have to indoctrinate them young—strip away their emotions and desires from childhood.”
“……Salmak.”
At Dang Seogi’s murmur, both Sanggwan Hae and Moyong Yul’s expressions hardened visibly.
Salmak would indeed have reason to abduct children.
“Could it be that Salmak is recruiting novice assassins to expand their ranks?”
“I can’t say for certain.”
But Ho Yeon shook his head, adopting a more cautious tone.
“The reason I suspect Gu Cheonseong is because I’ve encountered something similar before, as I mentioned—in Habcheon.”
“Wa Hojae. One of the Noklim Chilsipichae, and a subsidiary of Nok Cheon’s operation.”
“Yes. There were roughly thirty children held captive inside Wa Hojae. From what I learned, it was the work of someone named Mak Cheonac, sent from Cheongrok Manor, their main base.”
That was why Ho Yeon had asked Ma Mujeon, the Yolyeong branch director of Haowen, a question.
Which black-path faction under Gu Cheonseong wielded the most power in Yolyeong.
‘Never thought those assassins would be operating so openly.’
Ho Yeon’s eyes gleamed.
The pieces were starting to fit together.
If Salmak’s assassins were indeed orchestrating these child abductions, it would explain why the trail went cold.
“So… brother, what do we do now? Should we go to the magistrate’s office and request assistance?”
Moyong Yul asked with a trembling voice, and Ho Yeon shook his head.
“It won’t help. With assassins running rampant like this, you can’t assume the magistrate isn’t in on it.”
“In truth, the magistrate has no good options. Nobody wants to be stabbed in their sleep.”
As Sanggwan Hae added his own grim assessment, Moyong Yul cried out:
“Then we go to Baek Yak Mountain Manor! My third brother Moyong Hak and Squad Three must be there. If we join forces with them—!”
“Baek Yak Mountain Manor? I’ve heard of Yolyeong Paljoo, but what exactly is this place?”
At Ho Yeon’s question, Dang Seogi answered.
“It started as a gathering of herb collectors who made their fortune harvesting rare plants from the Jangbaek Mountain Range. About fifty years ago, it transformed into a martial sect.”
“Once they’d made their fortune, they would have needed the strength to protect it.”
“Precisely. The Baek Yak Mountain Manor was initially classified as an unorthodox faction because they employ poison and forbidden techniques. Among the common people, they’re called the Dang-ga of Yolyeong.”
Dang Seogi let out a soft laugh and continued.
“So the master of Baek Yak Mountain Manor married off his daughter to Moyong Mujel, and every year sends vast quantities of medicinal and spiritual herbs to the Moyong Sega as tribute.”
“And in return, they borrow something called the Baekgameng—a ceremonial parasol meant for noble palanquins.”
Ho Yeon nodded, understanding the nature of Baek Yak Mountain Manor’s arrangement.
“For now, let’s begin our own investigation.”
“Pardon?”
At Ho Yeon’s words, Moyong Yul’s eyes widened, and Ho Yeon smiled slightly before continuing.
“The clever ones will make their move first. We simple fellows like us—mere Hugi Jisoos—might as well gather information openly.”
* * *
Creak!
The door of a lantern-lit shop swung open.
A man of unknown identity, dressed in black, slipped inside like a serpent.
The shop was empty and desolate, but the man walked toward the counter without hesitation.
Thud, thud, tap!
The man stopped before the counter and opened his mouth.
A quiet voice emerged.
“Report.”
“Namgung Ho Yeon of the Namgung Sega. Moyong Yul of the Moyong Sega. Sanggwan Hae of the Sanggwan Sega. Dang Seogi of the Dang-ga. They arrived at the Geumpoong Yeogwan in the north via blood vessel route.”
“Their objective?”
“Unknown.”
“Is there a possibility they suspect me?”
“It exists.”
“Is there a possibility the secret stronghold has been exposed?”
“It does not exist.”
“Hmm…….”
The man in black listened to the report leaking from empty air, then let out a low rumble of a mutter.
“Pure coincidence?”
“That possibility is quite strong. They may have simply chased after my reputation and come seeking an opening to strike—nothing more.”
“Are they truly that foolish? Do they not understand what it means to challenge me?”
The man in black shook his head in disbelief.
“They wore ridiculous disguises when they entered, I’m told?”
“Yes, sir. They masqueraded as members of the Cheungsang Sangdan, claiming they came to purchase medicinal herbs.”
“Pfft—pathetic. This is what comes of young masters from the orthodox sects.”
The man in black smiled coldly and continued.
“Either way, they’ve stuck their own heads into the tiger’s mouth. I’ll bite.”
“I shall request it from the camp. And So Munju, the Lord sent word.”
“……The Lord?”
The man in black’s body shuddered.
The Lord—meaning the Master of the Kill Veil.
Wu Yan, the Killing King, the First Finger among the Sip Ji Sip Jokji.
“A guest shall soon visit the Eumsalmun. As a candidate for the position of Designate, you are to receive them personally.”
“Oh! At last! Is it finally my turn?”
Crack!
The man in black clenched his fists and burst into wild laughter.
“Hahahaha! Excellent! This is killing two birds with one stone!”
* * *
Deep in the heart of night.
Click! Scrape!
A figure in black mask departed from the roof tile, dissolving into darkness.
The plaque reading “Geumpoong Yeogwan” reflected in the masked figure’s emotionless eyes.
‘The target is Moyong Yul. Unkempt hair, blue eyes. A face impossible to mistake.’
Whisper.
The masked figure, approaching in silence, suddenly stopped.
‘……Who is that?’
Someone was nearby.
The presence of a kindred spirit could be felt.
At once, the figure expanded breathing with the Gwisik Daebeop, slowed the heartbeat, and adjusted blood flow.
The presence, growing ever fainter, hid like darkness seeking darkness in the night—the man’s aura vanished.
Yet.
Whee-shing!
“Tch!”
A projectile aimed precisely at the masked figure flew through the air; instinctively, the figure threw the body sideways.
Tap-tap-tap!
The masked figure unleashed the Amhaengyryoo and began moving swiftly away from Geumpoong Yeogwan.
A discovered killer held no purpose.
‘Are they pursuing?’
The masked figure paused, sensing the mysterious guardian was not giving chase.
‘A guardian? The family could not offer direct support……’
The Baekga Geomhoe was a trial to evaluate the capabilities of heirs—disqualification came instantly should one employ family protection or military reinforcement during a mission.
‘Regardless, it is beyond me.’
Just as the figure in black prepared to abandon the mission and retreat.
“……Gasp!”
From the lips of the masked figure, who possessed such command over silence through endless practice that no sound should ever escape—a cry of shock erupted.
And for good reason.
The sight before the eyes was far too unreal.
‘A……sword?’
The pommel set with a ruby, and the blade tinged with a soft crimson glow, caught the moonlight and shone with an otherworldly radiance.
A deep, startled wail!
What struck him most was that the Danjeopm hung suspended in the empty air, regarding him with a fixed, unblinking stare.
A slight bob.
The Danjeopm dipped its hilt as though offering a final farewell, then streaked away in a flash of crimson light.
Boom!
Somewhere in the back alley.
A corpse with its skull split open fell like rotten leaf-litter to the ground.
* * *
“A yawn.”
“You look tired, brother.”
“Tsk. The neighborhood cats have been howling up such a racket. I didn’t sleep a wink.”
“Oh dear. I suppose Wol Myo was kneading your belly again?”
As Moyong Yul cast a reproachful glance at the cat cradled in his arms, Wol Myo let out a protesting yowl.
“Good merchant.”
“Yes?”
“Do you sell medicinal herbs?”
“We carry them.”
When Ho Yeon stepped closer with the question, the middle-aged apothecary looked him up and down with obvious scrutiny.
‘What’s this? Has some young lord from a noble house come down to play at commerce?’
The two youths before him bore such unmistakable refinement that the thought rose unbidden.
“What is this one?”
“That’s Nohoe. Good for burns.”
“And this?”
“Inyeon. Excellent for breaking fever.”
“This one?”
“Hyangbonghwa. Best taken as a tea.”
As Ho Yeon inspected the displayed herbs, he handled the straw bags, hoes, and pruning knives with an air of casual passing interest while he asked his next question.
“Since this is my first time here, I wonder—is this place always this quiet?”
“If you want noise and clamor, go to Beijing.”
“Well, that’s sharp of you. Very well. Give me a peck of that last one.”
A grunt of acknowledgment.
The apothecary quickly produced a hemp sack and measured out a peck of Hyangbonghwa.
Ho Yeon then drew forth a coin purse from his sleeve, and gold coins clinked distinctly within.
“How much?”
“Five taels, all told.”
“Five taels? That’s steep.”
“I mean five taels in silver!”
“Silver? Do you have silver? I hardly ever stock that.”
Each time Ho Yeon rummaged through his purse, the apothecary’s throat worked as he swallowed hard.
“Lucky for us, I have a few pieces. Here—five taels for you.”
“Much obliged, much obliged, young master. With such generous spending, you must come from wealth indeed.”
Noticing the shift in the apothecary’s gaze, Ho Yeon smiled and pressed on with his question.
“Returning to what we were discussing—is Dandong always this quiet?”
“Dandong’s always been this way. It’s not as though a noisy festival breaks out in this mountain hamlet.”
“There is a river to the south, isn’t there?”
“The Amnok River runs through here. Follow it out and you’ll reach the Bohai Bay, but those eastern tribes are fierce—not many merchant ships venture that way.”
“You don’t even hear children laughing.”
“Well, once a child shows promise with letters, we send them off to the towns. As you know, this area has its share of… undesirables. It’s not an ideal place to raise young ones.”
The apothecary glanced about cautiously, then lowered his voice and craned his neck toward a red lantern hanging in the shop across the street.
“Ah, Salmak?”
“Hush! Lower your voice!”
“Why? What’s the matter?”
“Salmak’s eyes and ears are spread all over this town like a net. One careless word and you could become one of the Bulgwiguii Gaek—never to return!”
The apothecary’s eyes were wide with genuine fear.
“Remarkable. So one must ask permission before speaking? I’ve heard a good many people come here seeking Gusalheng.”
Ho Yeon spoke with deliberate indifference.
According to what Sanggwan Hae had told him, this town did indeed draw quite a few outsiders.
Most of them, he’d been told, came seeking to contract Salmak for assassination—Gusalgaeks, they were called.
“You… you’re not assassination clients, are you? Get out at once!”
“No, that’s not—”
“I took you for some rich merchant’s sons! Wretched things!”
Thwack!
The apothecary shoved Ho Yeon and Moyong Yul out without resistance, and they stumbled into the street.
“Tsk, the people’s mood is foul.”
“The hatred toward Salmak seems quite intense.”
“Less hatred than fear, I’d say. Still, we’ve gleaned the essentials.”
“Oh?”
Moyong Yul looked up at Ho Yeon, who shrugged and spoke.
“Goidong Jidan doesn’t seem to operate in this area. If they had, he’d have mentioned the missing children.”
“I see…”
“Well, I suspected as much anyway. Even a pig wallowing in mud keeps its own sty clean.”
If Salmak were Goidong Jidan, they wouldn’t have left evidence to be found in their own territory.
“Conversely, that cleanliness itself is suspicious.”
……
Moyong Yul regarded Ho Yeon with a look of admiring wonder.
‘So this is why my brother is so extraordinary. I wish I could be of more help.’
Moyong Yul felt the subtle stirring of Wol Myo shifting inside his robe and fell into thought.
To someone like him.
Would it really be wrong to tell him?
As Moyong Yul sat lost in consideration.
Tap-tap-tap-tap!
A boy in tattered clothes came rushing down the street and squeezed between Ho Yeon and Moyong Yul, pushing past.
Clack!
“Oof!”
“This rascal—”
“Brother, I apologize—”
Moyong Yul, caught off guard, nearly fell, but Ho Yeon caught him.
As Moyong Yul, his face flushed with embarrassment at showing such clumsiness, looked up at Ho Yeon.
Grin!
Ho Yeon’s eyes gleamed with intrigue as he watched the boy’s retreating figure, a fascinating smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
“An impudent little runt, isn’t he?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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