Chapter 67
Chapter 67: Welcome, It's a Trap (3)
I sat in a dark room with my arms crossed, thinking.
'Bell Tower Sect or Red Dragon Gate — same rice, different bowl.'
Red Dragon Gate's Sect Leader Lee Won-ryong was a career gangster.
The enforcer of the nation's largest criminal organization — that was Lee Won-ryong.
When the Murim Tower appeared, the sharp-eyed Lee Won-ryong caught the scent of money wafting from the Tower.
At first, the government sent climbers in on a national level, but quickly realized it was a losing battle.
They dispatched military, police, and firefighter veterans through the Gukmubon, but it was like throwing eggs at a boulder.
The government changed its policy.
Continuing to exhaust elite military and law enforcement could threaten governance itself.
And so, they flung the Tower's doors wide open.
They used ordinary citizens as test subjects.
The government promoted the Tower on a grand scale.
"A new era, new opportunities await in the Tower!"
Citizens who fell for those words swarmed in like moths to a flame, and naturally, gangsters like Lee Won-ryong went in alongside them.
'The Tower is unclaimed land.'
There were no police or prosecutors to stomach, no CCTV.
Lee Won-ryong led an organized criminal outfit and moved on pure instinct.
Before leaving the Tower, he forcibly stripped other climbers of their earnings.
Rob them! Kill them!
The more they did, the stronger they grew — and reputation followed.
That was the Red Dragon Gate they had built up, and its Sect Leader was none other than Lee Won-ryong.
"All of this is because the law isn't doing its job."
Originally, what the law strictly prohibited was self-help justice.
Meaning the state held a monopoly on the right to punish — but these days, fists came before law.
Violent crime was skyrocketing.
Detention centers and prisons had filled to capacity years ago and could no longer take in any more inmates.
The government announced it would build new ones, but even in peaceful times it took decades to get a single detention center built — why would now be any different?
"Not in our neighborhood! Property values will drop! Build it right next to the Tower instead!"
The citizens crying out in fierce opposition were voters, so the government couldn't push it through by force.
Naturally, trials became little more than formalities.
The courts were nearly paralyzed.
The reality today was that once prosecutors filed charges, it took at least two years just to get a first hearing scheduled for a criminal trial.
And unless it was an important case, everything was sentenced on the spot.
The Bungeoppang lady I had reported for defamation had filed a formal trial request against the summary fine order.
A trial for such a minor offense would probably take about three years before the first hearing date was even set.
Ahh, what a wonderful world this is!
A world ruled by violence.
It felt as if the Gangho of my past life had been transplanted here with nothing but the era changed.
"Sharp instincts. Lee Won-ryong."
I sat with arms crossed, thinking of him.
It wasn't just sharp instincts.
He had a certain foresight for reading the times.
On top of that, the drive to build a massive sect, and the organizational ability to run it.
"I do need my own forces."
If the Murim Tower was retracing my past life—
Then someday, a large-scale battle would erupt as part of the conquests ahead.
I needed to raise people who would serve as my limbs before that time came.
I opened my eyes and slowly leafed through the documents laid out on the table.
They were materials on the Red Dragon Gate.
Something the Choi Brothers had handed over.
The room was dark with the lights off, but my eyes — sharp as a cat's — had no trouble reading the documents.
'Red Dragon Gate.'
The structure was clearly different from the Goryeo Sword Sect or the Changbai Sect.
Where the Goryeo Sword Sect and Changbai Sect attempted to distribute power in their own way and maintain balance—
The Red Dragon Gate was a structure where all power was concentrated in Lee Won-ryong personally.
The disciples were uniformly fierce, riddled with criminal records.
"A hard-fisted dictatorship structure. If there's a capable, charismatic leader at the top doing their job, the growth potential is limitless — but conversely, if the top dog goes soft, they lose all their teeth."
Slurp.
No matter how I looked at it, I was drawn to it.
"A demonic faction right up my alley."
Take the head, and a massive sect rolls in, roots and all.
That was the Red Dragon Gate.
"In that sense, I respect the Bell Tower Heavenly King too."
The Bell Tower Sect's leader reaching out to the Red Dragon Gate must have been thinking along the same lines as me.
"I imagine they've already planted the seeds of suspicion in Lee Won-ryong — that there might be a spy inside the Red Dragon Gate."
The fact that the Chivalrous Hero's Secret Medicine had been received from another sect would be the seed of that suspicion.
Lee Won-ryong would begin suspecting that the Bell Tower Sect had informants even within his own Red Dragon Gate.
The Bell Tower Heavenly King would stoke internal conflict.
Then, once Lee Won-ryong had cut off his own arms and legs and shrunk to a manageable size—
"They'd plan to devour him."
Different from me.
Where she intended to cook it well and pick out the best pieces, I planned to swallow it whole.
Like a snake.
"Heh heh heh."
That was when it happened.
Crack!
From outside the front door, something — crack! — the sound of a lock being broken came through.
I glanced at the clock on the wall.
2:40 in the morning.
……So it's begun.
Seong Chu-hyeon, whom I was about to meet, would soon deliver the Red Dragon Gate right into my grasp.
"Come right in. Seong Chu-hyeon."
I looked toward the door.
"Through the gates of hell."
* * *
A few days prior, Gym Instructor Seong Chu-hyeon had called his nephew Park Seon-su to say he'd run into a madman named Kim Tae-yang.
"Seon-su."
"Oh, Uncle. What's up?"
"You know someone called Kim Tae-yang?"
"Kim Tae-yang? Who's that?"
"Seems like he's a classmate of Im Ye-rin. From Myeongmun High School."
"Huh? Not really."
Park Seon-su replied without much thought.
"I don't know. I've played around with too many kids to count. If I can't remember him, he's probably just some loser. Why, Uncle?"
"Nothing."
Seong Chu-hyeon let his words trail off.
He couldn't bring himself to say he'd been bested by his nephew's classmate — that would be humiliating.
He knew Park Seon-su's personality.
'If the brat was messing with a classmate, that means there was serious school violence going on.'
But he didn't lecture him about it.
His family were predators.
It was only natural for weaklings like deer and rabbits to get eaten.
"Why? What happened? Tell me, Uncle. Could it be…… One of those losers showed up at your gym?"
"No, it's nothing much."
"Pfft haha! Whoever it is, they're a funny one."
Laughter burst out from the other end of the phone.
"……Is that so?"
Seong Chu-hyeon tilted his head.
Strange.
He didn't look like someone weak enough that his nephew wouldn't even remember him.
Having devoted his entire life to martial arts, he had known the moment Kim Tae-yang threw his punch.
Even though he was wearing an Artificial Dantian.
'The form, at least, was flawless.'
And the spirit packed into that punch.
Something still didn't sit right.
'……Was the shock so great it's distorted my memory?'
He had drunk a fair bit the night before.
His nephew Park Seon-su kept chattering away, sounding somewhat amused.
"Uncle! Next time he shows up, tell me. I should go by sometime."
"……"
"Oh, and did anything strange seem off about him?"
"What?"
"You know — school violence, MeToo, that kind of stuff. There was a lot of it a few years back."
"Well……. He did show me your photo and ask about you."
"Ah, damn. That's it then! He came with the intention of destroying me. Forget me going — I can't even remember it, so there's nothing to talk him out of. Best to cut ties completely."
Park Seon-su swore over the phone.
"Don't worry. I'll handle him."
"You, Uncle?"
"Yeah. I'll take care of it."
"Well then, I'm grateful."
Park Seon-su spoke in a tone that said he wasn't going to worry about it anymore.
Seong Chu-hyeon was an absolute specialist in matters of this sort.
If he said he'd handle it, some nobody like that would never be able to open his mouth.
Or rather, he would simply never be seen again.
"Oh right, what about her? Is she doing well?"
Park Seon-su said, as if remembering something.
"Who?"
"Im Ye-rin, I mean. I hear she's a climber too."
"Ugh……. Uncle, be careful."
"You looking out for a classmate?"
"It's not that — it's the timing, while we're merging with the Red Dragon Gate. Just make sure there's no unnecessary noise. That Im Ye-rin, we can manipulate her however we want."
"Stop talking nonsense and focus on your training. The climb isn't far off."
"Got it, Uncle."
Click—.
He hung up the phone.
Kim Tae-yang.
His judgment wasn't entirely settled, but going by his nephew's attitude, there was a high likelihood it had been a momentary illusion.
He had been sure it was no ordinary fighting spirit—
Had he lost his edge from only dealing with lowlifes? That thought crossed his mind.
"Then again, who do I think I am — getting bested by some nobody like that."
In training, there were times like that.
Moments when form and energy aligned perfectly.
"That fluke just happened to fall on that particular day."
The fun and games were over now.
Frankly, he was confident he wouldn't lose even against that Poison Spider from Gukmubon.
"Anyway, we'll meet again. You little punk."
He gave his body a proper workout for the first time in a while.
* * *
[Present — The Choi Brothers' House]
Seong Chu-hyeon grew anxious when the front door lock took longer to break than expected.
"Hurry up!"
"Almost done."
The subordinate who had been struggling gave a nod.
The door swung open, and a total of seven Muinhoe fighters, along with one Bell Tower Sect climber, stepped inside the Choi Brothers' home.
Eight people entered the house.
A vast, sprawling home greeted them.
"Which room is Choi Jae-jun's?"
"The inner room on the first floor. Choi Jae-hwa is on the second."
"We take Choi Jae-hwa first. Slit his throat with a blade, then throw that one to Choi Jae-jun on the first floor."
Seong Chu-hyeon pointed to the Bell Tower Sect climber.
The man was completely addicted, and his appearance was horrifying.
A rotting stench radiated from his flesh, which had begun to decay even while he still breathed.
"Be careful not to let it touch your skin. You have gas masks, but you never know."
"Yes, Manager."
Seong Chu-hyeon took four men and headed up to the second floor.
"That room there."
Shing!
Seong Chu-hyeon drew a blade and stood before the door, while one of his subordinates carefully opened it.
A pitch-dark room.
Approaching the bed, Seong Chu-hyeon raised his blade — and sensed something was off.
"Huh?!"
He ripped back the blanket.
"He's not here!"
Immediately, his subordinates scattered across the second floor's various rooms in search of Choi Jae-hwa.
But he was nowhere to be found. Not in the bathroom either.
"He's not here."
"Damn. Let's go back down."
They returned to the first floor.
But—
"Where did the others go?"
The two subordinates left on the first floor were nowhere to be seen.
Only the Bell Tower Sect climber remained.
They swept through the first floor again, but the subordinates were nowhere to be found.
Seong Chu-hyeon and his men turned their eyes to one spot simultaneously.
Choi Jae-jun's room on the first floor.
It was the only place left.
Shing!
Every subordinate drew their blade.
One of them twisted the door handle open, and through the gap, Choi Jae-jun and Choi Jae-hwa could be seen lying in the bed.
"These bastards…… Are they really brothers?"
The two brothers lay side by side in bed, sleeping peacefully.
The blanket was pulled almost all the way up over their heads.
"Finish them."
Seong Chu-hyeon and his subordinates surrounded the bed with blades raised, then — stab, stab, stab! — furiously stabbed at the two men beneath the blanket.
"Wait!"
Seong Chu-hyeon raised his hand, sensing something off.
"No reaction?"
No matter how deeply they slept, this made no sense.
Rip!
He yanked the blanket back again.
"Ugh!"
He couldn't believe his own eyes.
What had been stabbed to death were his own two subordinates.
The men he had left behind on the first floor.
"That can't be!"
That was when it happened. Thud!
Someone leapt into the room.
"Kill them!"
Seong Chu-hyeon swung his blade again, and the one who had leapt in crumpled to the ground, spurting blood, and died.
But the one who had leapt in and been killed was none other than—
"The Bell Tower Sect climber?!"
Hiss, hiss, hiss—
The toxic energy seeping from the climber's blood filled the room.
"Urgk!"
Seong Chu-hyeon and his subordinates rushed to escape through the door.
They had gas masks on, but this was dangerous!
But then — whoosh!
Silver threads shot through the room like a web, and suddenly the gas masks covering the faces of his subordinates were sliced away and fell to the floor.
"Gah! What is this—!"
Toxic energy spreading through the room!
"Get out, now!"
Seong Chu-hyeon shouted, but — bang! — the door slammed shut and locked fast.
"Move!"
Seong Chu-hyeon channeled his internal energy from the Artificial Dantian and rammed the door with his shoulder with everything he had.
Crack!
The door shattered, and Seong Chu-hyeon and his men barely squeezed out.
The subordinates frantically grabbed the fallen gas masks from the floor and pressed them back onto their faces, but they had already inhaled the toxic energy.
On top of that, two of them in the confusion hadn't managed to put their gas masks on at all.
"M-Manager……!"
The two who hadn't put their masks on suddenly dropped to their knees as if their throats were being blocked.
"Bwuaaach—!"
The two men vomited blood mixed with bile.
Seong Chu-hyeon sidestepped them and bolted into the living room.
Seven Muinhoe members including himself.
Already two dead, two incapacitated.
He was unharmed, but the remaining two who had inhaled even a trace of toxic energy wouldn't last much longer either.
"Manager, what do we do?"
"Damn it! Mission's failed. Fall back."
The three of them moved back toward the front door.
But—
Rumble! Bang!
A security shutter suddenly dropped, sealing the exit to the outside.
"No!"
His hands trembled.
He had thought he was driving the brothers into a death trap,
when in fact it was his own side that had been driven in.
A perfect ambush!
One disaster after another bearing down on him.
The thick security shutter was a width they had no hope of breaking through — and on top of that—
Thwip!
An arrow shot through a tiny hole punched in the security shutter.
Thwack!
A subordinate struck by the arrow was hurled backward and slammed into the sofa.
His head dropped.
Clearly dead.
"Hell! Break the window!"
"It's bulletproof glass!"
"It's still better than the iron door! Smash it! Or we die."
The toxic energy kept spreading, and from the nose of the subordinate who had already inhaled some, blood was beginning to drip.
The remaining two threw themselves at the living room window and began pounding away with every last drop of internal energy they could muster.
Bang! Crack! Craaack!
Tiny fractures slowly appearing on the glass.
But it looked like it would take quite some time.
That was when it happened.
"You've been working hard. Seong Chu-perverted."
"……!"
Someone's voice came from a corner of the living room.
"Who's there!"
Seong Chu-hyeon leveled his blade.
Click!
A light in the corner of the living room switched on, illuminating a man seated in an armchair.
Click. Click. Click.
The man flicked the light switch on and off, then on again, and uncrossed his legs.
The gesture was so natural and so overflowing with authority that the hair on Seong Chu-hyeon's skin stood on end for a moment.
Click—.
The light went out.
Click—.
When the light came back on.
Slash!
Hot blood sprayed across Seong Chu-hyeon's gas mask.
"Gurrgle—."
A subordinate crumpling to the floor, gushing a fountain of blood from his throat.
And behind him stood the man.
"Y-you are—?!"
Coming to his senses, Seong Chu-hyeon quickly recognized a familiar face.
"Kim Tae-yang?!"
"You said we'd meet again."
Streeetch—.
Kim Tae-yang interlocked his fingers and stretched his arms straight up overhead.
His mouth opened.
"Shall we start again. The conversation of the body."
Streeetch—.