Black and White Martial Emperor

At that same moment—

CLAAANG!

Sang Gak’s hand stopped dead in midair as it swept toward Jong Myeong’s throat.

DRIP.

The keen blade had grazed Jong Myeong’s Adam’s apple, leaving a shallow cut. A thin line of blood ran from the torn skin.

Had the intervention come even a fraction later, the blade would have sliced through his throat and severed his carotid artery.

It had been that close.

“...!!”

Jong Myeong was too stunned to even understand what had happened.

Sang Gak’s face flushed red.

“Ghh!”

TREMBLE!

The arm bound in chains shook violently.

But that amount of strength was nowhere near enough to overcome Yeon Hojeong’s raw power. Worse, once infused with internal force, the Flood Dragon Chain—despite being made of steel—clung to Sang Gak’s arm like blood-soaked cloth, tightening around it.

Shock spread across Jong Myeong’s face.

“Y-You!”

At that moment, Sang Gak swung his other hand.

His rigid fingertips were poised to smash straight through Jong Myeong’s sternum.

Yeon Hojeong yanked hard on the Flood Dragon Chain.

RIP!

WHOOSH!

BOOM!

Sang Gak’s knife-hand merely tore Jong Myeong’s collar.

Bound by the Flood Dragon Chain, Sang Gak was whipped through the air and smashed into the wall, losing consciousness on impact.

WHUFF...

A thick cloud of dust rose.

Jong Myeong was not the only one stunned by the sudden turn of events. The captain of the guards, who had entered a moment later, hurriedly drew his sword.

SHING!

“You bastard! How dare you come in here and—!”

“Stop!”

Jong Myeong’s sharp roar made the captain flinch and retreat a step.

Jong Myeong looked at Yeon Hojeong.

Yeon Hojeong was staring coldly down at Sang Gak. His eyes were so frigid, so utterly indifferent, that merely seeing them seemed enough to chill the marrow.

“What is your name?”

Without even looking at Jong Myeong, Yeon Hojeong replied,

“Yeon Hojeong.”

“Yeon Hojeong?”

“That’s right.”

Yeon Hojeong...

It was a name Jong Myeong had heard many times before, somewhere.

But now was not the time to dig through uncertain memories.

Jong Myeong spoke again.

“Would you mind explaining exactly what is happening here?”

A faint gleam appeared in Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.

Not bad.

The man had nearly lost his head.

Yet Jong Myeong was calmly asking him questions.

That takes more nerve than most men have.

He was indeed worthy of being the left Provincial Administration Commissioner, a man who had started with nothing and risen to the highest administrative office in Guangdong Province.

Even martial artists rarely possessed such composure.

Yeon Hojeong said,

“The largest assassin organization in Guangdong Province is on the verge of collapse. And they...”

He gave Jong Myeong a brief account of what had happened.

Brief though it was, he omitted nothing essential, allowing Jong Myeong to grasp exactly how the situation had developed.

“So you are saying the leader of this assassin organization planted his subordinates beside Guangdong’s highest officials years ago?”

“So it would seem.”

Jong Myeong’s gaze deepened.

Sang Gak had become his adjutant seven years ago.

Sang Gak had possessed no notable connections of his own, but his abilities had been exceptional. He had also been decisive when necessary while retaining a distinctly humane side, making Jong Myeong think him perfectly suited to serve as his adjutant.

And yet...

Sang Gak had been an assassin?

“I cannot believe it. He handled every manner of affair at my side for seven whole years.”

“Not seven whole years. Only seven years.”

“What?”

“There are countless people willing to devote their entire lives to avenging a grudge. Compared to that, seven years is nothing.”

“...!”

“The target was the highest authority responsible for governing Guangdong Province. They must have prepared for this for a very long time, and they would have investigated everything there was to know about you.”

A chill ran through Jong Myeong’s entire body.

“They intended to assassinate the province’s key officials simply to plunge Guangdong into chaos...!”

It was an appallingly dangerous scheme.

They had intended to murder high-ranking imperial officials.

Not one or two, but dozens of them.

This was unequivocally treason—a direct challenge to the empire.

The empire’s strength might have waned, but Jong Myeong had never imagined that such people could have been operating brazenly beneath their very noses.

“Those insolent—!”

“You should consider yourself fortunate that you, of all people, survived.”

“What?!”

“If you died, Guangdong Province—which currently sustains itself with considerable independence while still remaining under imperial rule—would be thrown into extreme disorder. It would become a living hell.”

“...”

“All lives have equal worth. But understand this much: I came here because of your ability and your position, not because I admire your character. The lives of ordinary people take precedence over everything else.”

Yeon Hojeong’s gaze deepened.

His eyes were so dark that Jong Myeong unconsciously clenched his fists.

“You are going to be very busy from this moment on. There must be at least dozens of assassinations we failed to stop. With so many officials killed at once, Guangdong’s administration will be paralyzed for some time.”

“This cannot be...”

“Restore order in Guangdong as quickly as possible. If you cannot do that, surviving today will have meant nothing.”

CLINK-CLINK-CLINK!

Yeon Hojeong wrapped the Flood Dragon Chain back around his upper body, struck Sang Gak’s paralysis point, then hoisted the unconscious man onto his back.

Jong Myeong asked,

“Where are you taking him?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“He attempted to murder an imperial official. He is a criminal. Leave him here.”

“You people do not have the ability to handle him.”

“That is not for you to decide! That man—!”

“Do I look as though I’m joking?”

Yeon Hojeong looked at Jong Myeong.

Jong Myeong suddenly felt his knees weaken.

An overwhelming pressure poured from the young man’s eyes.

It felt as though a single glance might stop his heart.

Even Jong Myeong, who had spent decades surviving treacherous political struggles where every step was taken over thin ice, had never experienced anything like it.

“If you wish to assert your rightful authority, then first acquire the strength and ability necessary to enforce it. I live on this land too, so naturally I want the empire to be strong. But with a man like you serving as left Provincial Administration Commissioner—charging around without considering what lies before or behind him—I see little hope of the country improving.”

“W-What did you say?!”

The captain of the guards erupted.

“You insolent bastard!”

The murderous gleam in Yeon Hojeong’s eyes gradually cleared.

Jong Myeong suddenly had the illusion that the man was seeing straight through everything hidden inside him.

He almost squeezed his eyes shut without realizing it.

“I did investigate your people to some extent, but apparently there was no need. It is written all over you. You puff out your hollow belly, wring out whatever scraps of authority you can from the word ‘empire,’ and yet you are too proud—and too cowardly—to reach out to anyone who might actually be of use.”

“Y-You...”

“If you had not stubbornly pushed martial artists away, matters would never have reached this point.”

“...!”

“If you lacked the nerve to greet them with a smile, then you should at least have had the sense to use them. In the end, you are nothing but a fool—too stupid to make use of martial artists and too small-minded to approach them with a smile.”

Jong Myeong shouted,

“You bastard! There is a limit to what I will tolerate!”

“And if you stop tolerating it? Will you kill me here? Me—the man who broke through your entire guard force alone and reached this room without so much as a scratch?”

“Ghh!”

“Get your head straight. An official serves the emperor, but he also protects the emperor’s subjects and helps them live secure, prosperous lives. That is not a privilege. It is a duty. Until now, you have neglected part of that duty and left the situation in Guangdong hanging by a thread. That makes you culpable.”

“...”

“If you are so desperate to satisfy that pride of yours, pride worth less than a few iron arrows, then raise a dog instead. Better yet, spend the time you would waste raising one on restoring public order and public sentiment in this province.”

Yeon Hojeong turned away.

“I will return someday. If Guangdong is still in this condition when I do, then I will take your head myself.”

It was an outrageous threat.

Few threats could have been more brazen.

He was treating the life of the left Provincial Administration Commissioner of the Office of Provincial Administration—an imperial official—as lightly as a handful of iron arrows carried in one’s pocket.

Yet Jong Myeong could not answer him.

He was shocked.

Furious.

Confused.

And even through all of that, he understood one thing perfectly well.

Yeon Hojeong had not been bluffing.

Terrifying.

The young man did not even look thirty.

Yet his gaze was more frightening than that of any imposing politician Jong Myeong had seen emerge from decades of ruthless struggle, and his eyes shone with an almost preternatural light, deep enough to seem capable of exposing a man down to the roots of his soul.

Terrifying martial arts.

A force of personality every bit as formidable.

And on top of that, insight keen enough to see through a person at a glance.

Martial artists really are dangerous.

Something like that could hardly be called human.

Legends claimed that Guan Yu Yunchang had broken through enemy lines and swept away his foes like autumn leaves before the wind.

But those were precisely that—legends.

This young man was someone capable of turning such legends into reality whenever he wished.

Jong Myeong had enough judgment to recognize that much.

He stared silently at the door through which Yeon Hojeong had left.

Then, at some point, he noticed that the front of his robe felt damp and looked down.

...

The blood from his throat had already run as far as his collarbone, staining his clothes.

He had thought the skin had only been lightly cut, but the wound had bled more than expected.

Pressing a handkerchief from the table against it, Jong Myeong addressed the captain of the guards.

“Find out immediately whether Guangdong’s senior officials are alive or dead. Pay particular attention to the Regional Military Commission.”

*****

“Damn it.”

Yeon Hojeong sighed.

“Rambling on about things that barely mattered. I still have a long way to go.”

Seeing Jong Myeong cling to his pride even after things had reached that point had made anger flare inside him.

Of course, Jong Myeong had a point.

No—if Yeon Hojeong respected the empire, then by rights he should have done exactly what the man demanded and left Sang Gak behind.

But Yeon Hojeong knew what would happen.

Once he handed over Sang Gak, Jong Myeong would demand more.

He would undoubtedly try to investigate Yeon Hojeong himself, and the investigation into what was actually happening throughout Guangdong would be pushed further and further back.

Jong Myeong rejected martial artists.

Yeon Hojeong had learned as much through the Beggars’ Union’s investigation, but even without that, one look into the man’s eyes had told him enough.

That was why he had become angry.

Not because Jong Myeong disliked martial artists.

What angered him was the man’s incompetence: despite disliking martial artists, he lacked the ability to truly keep them out. And despite that incompetence, his awkward pride still prevented him from approaching them on friendly terms.

If Jong Myeong had maintained even a modest relationship with the martial world, he would not have been this helpless.

Though the assassination attempt probably would have happened anyway.

The man who had served as his adjutant for seven years had in truth been an assassin who could turn on him the moment an order arrived.

Even Yeon Hojeong himself would have found it difficult to avoid a blade like that.

Trust was always a double-edged sword.

Yeon Hojeong clicked his tongue.

“I don’t have time for this either. Most of them have probably already been hit, but if I can save even one more person, I need to move now.”

That was when—

Yeon Hojeong flinched.

He had been about to kick off the ground when a subtle presence behind him brought him to a halt.

...!!

His eyes trembled.

He had never expected to encounter an aura so well concealed yet so extraordinarily dense in a place like this.

Its concentration was astonishing.

How astonishing?

It was the aura of someone who had gone one step beyond where Yeon Hojeong now stood and was already walking through an entirely new world.

The Limitless Realm!

Yeon Hojeong turned.

An old man stood there, looking every inch a beggar, his hair hanging loose around his head like a lion’s mane.

“What an extraordinary young man. Am I one step too late?”

“...Who are you?”

“Hmm. From the look of things, you were the one who saved the left Provincial Administration Commissioner. Tsk. I came just in case, but it seems I made the trip for nothing.”

The old man grinned.

His face was streaked with grime, and his clothes were torn in so many places that they resembled rags.

Yet his exposed teeth were dazzlingly white.

“Still, you really are remarkable. Martial arts like that at your age... Heh. Even Gonggong was not at that level back then.”