A large crowd gathered in the marketplace of Jungnang County. The woman selling snacks from her stall, the man precariously carrying a water yoke, the children playing with their friends, and the many passersby—all their gazes turned to one spot. A long procession was passing through the middle of the village street.
Creaak! Creaak!
The sound of wheels turning on a thick, wooden-barred cart could be heard. Inside the wooden-barred cage, visible between the escorting county soldiers, were prisoners with their hands and feet bound.
“Look at that.”
“Aigoo. They’re completely covered in blood.”
Their faces were gaunt and scarred, as if they had endured harsh torture. Their white inmate robes were stained red. Perhaps because of this, the atmosphere in the village as they watched the procession was grim and ominous.
The procession continued for some time. Someone picked up a stone from the ground and threw it into the wooden cage.
“You vermin!”
Thwack!
“Keuk!”
The prisoner, with his hands and feet bound, could not avoid the stone and was struck squarely. The prisoner writhed in pain. Seeing this, some of the onlookers, one after another, began to grab whatever they could and throw it.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The prisoners inside the wooden cage could only endure the blows.
“Wicked bastards!”
“Take that, you lowlifes!”
“Eat this and die!”
Not a single one of the escorting county soldiers tried to stop them. Instead, they merely watched with sneers on their faces. From the beginning, the purpose of a public prisoner transport procession was precisely this.
To announce their crimes to the world.
“Hm.”
A middle-aged man was looking down at them from the second-floor window of a teahouse. Seeing him sitting primly and sipping his teacup, the official in government robes across from him asked with curiosity.
“What is it?”
Those were criminals. The man before him was not the type to feel pity for prisoners. At that, the middle-aged man looked at one of the carts.
Unlike the other prisoners, one was confined alone. His inmate robes were stained red across the chest and abdomen.
“He’s young.”
The prisoner sat upright, his hair disheveled and unkempt. Though half of his face was hidden by his messy hair, he was clearly a boy at a glance. He looked to be sixteen or seventeen at most.
‘…Is he the same age as the Young Master?’
Seeing the young prisoner reminded him of the young master he served. Then he shook his head. What does age have to do with committing a crime?
The official, watching him, spoke with a rather serious expression.
“It’s difficult to reveal before the sentence is carried out, but despite his appearance, he committed the gravest crime among them.”
Puzzled by his words, the middle-aged man asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that boy you called young is the most vicious of all the prisoners being transported this time.”
“The most vicious?”
The middle-aged man couldn't hide his surprise. How could that young prisoner be vicious?
“…Did he harm someone?”
For the government, the worst crime was treason, called the great sin. But those who committed treason were transported with their crimes publicly announced, so that couldn’t be it. In that case, there was only one other crime that could be called the most vicious.
Murder.
“That’s right.”
At the official’s answer, the middle-aged man let out a soft breath. To ordinary civilians, murder was a grave sin, but for martial artists like himself, killing and being killed was a common occurrence. Seeing this, the official clicked his tongue.
“Tsk, tsk. Spoken like a true martial artist. It doesn’t seem to affect you much.”
“Killing and dying are countless in our world.”
“I suppose so. But if you knew that brat’s identity, you too would…”
Thwack!
Before the official could finish his sentence, a stone flew straight into the boy’s head inside the wooden cage. The crowd murmured. Blood was trickling down from the boy’s head.
But unlike the other prisoners, the boy showed no sign of movement, not even a groan of pain.
“The young brat is a tough one.”
“Doesn’t it hurt? His head is bleeding like that, how can he…”
At this sight, a strange light flickered in the middle-aged man’s eyes as well.
‘That brat…’
Someone who had cultivated qi or been trained could endure a certain amount of pain. But that boy was an ordinary civilian. Yet, despite being hit squarely with a stone hard enough to split his head, he didn’t even let out a single groan.
The fact that he didn’t even flinch showed how tough he was.
Ssk!
As the flowing blood soaked his hair, the boy tilted his head back as if it were a nuisance. With that, the face hidden by his hair was revealed. For a moment, gasps of admiration escaped from the onlookers watching nearby.
The official was the same.
“Heo.”
Though his face was drenched in blood, his handsome features could not be hidden. His face, with its tall and refined lines, possessed a strange charm. What was peculiar was that his expression, in a way, even seemed gentle.
“With a face like that, how could he do such things…?”
The official wondered. The middle-aged man was staring intently at the young prisoner with a very surprised look on his face.
“You… what is it?”
At the question, the middle-aged man flinched and shook his head.
“…It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?”
He acted as if it were nothing, but just a moment ago, his face had clearly shown shock. Just as he was about to ask again, the middle-aged man stood up.
And said.
“The tea was good. Something urgent has come up, so I must be going.”
“Oh, now. I haven’t seen you in a long time…”
“I’m just busy. Next time we meet, I’ll treat you to a grand round of drinks at Moon Fragrance Pavilion.”
“Moon Fragrance Pavilion? Ahem, ahem.”
At his words, the corners of the official’s mouth twitched. What man wouldn’t be pleased at the offer of being taken to the most luxurious pleasure house in town?
In the late hour of the ox, just before dawn, The basement floor of the Jungnang County prison. Most of the imprisoned convicts were asleep, and even the guards watching over the prison were leaning against the wall, dozing off. Amidst all this, there was one person who was not asleep.
It was the young prisoner with the disheveled hair. Confined in the prison, the boy stared blankly at the wall.
‘…’
It had been four days since he awoke, thinking he had died. A lot had happened in that time. It was fortunate that he had miraculously survived, but when he awoke, he was imprisoned as a criminal.
Moreover, the date for his public execution had been set. The sentence was dismemberment by chariot. A punishment where one’s arms and legs were tied to different carts and the limbs were torn from the body.
‘…Is this a fitting punishment?’
He had cruelly killed enough people to be called the Scythe Slaughtering Demon. Whatever the punishment, it was difficult to escape the death penalty. Nevertheless, the boy’s eyes showed no hint of regret or any other anxious emotion.
Rather, the boy’s mind was preoccupied with other things.
[What? Martial arts? Hey, kid. Did you happen to meet a martial artist or something?]
These were the words one of the other prisoners had said to him. Because of that, the boy was able to resolve a question he had been harboring.
‘A martial artist…’
He had heard of them from time to time when he followed his grandfather into the village. They said that they could run as fast as horses and cultivated something called qi to surpass the strength of an ordinary person. What he had only heard as rumors was true.
That man had driven him to the brink of death in the blink of an eye.
‘…Even if we met again, the result would be the same.’
No matter how much he thought about it, staying awake all night, he could not think of a way to kill that man. Even if he launched a surprise attack or set a trap, would it even work? In the first place, that thing was a monster in human skin.
‘Are all martial artists that strong?’
If that were the case, avenging his grandfather might become a distant dream. For he was a being he could not kill no matter how much he struggled. The boy, who had been lost in thought for a long time, suddenly had an idea.
‘Martial arts.’
There was only one difference between himself and that man. The difference between having learned martial arts and not having learned them had created such a result. If so, the conclusion might be simple.
‘I need martial arts.’
If the conditions were the same, the result could be different. It seemed he had finally found an answer. But there was one problem.
‘No, two?’
First, he had to get out of this place. If he stayed here, he would be subjected to dismemberment by chariot and torn limb from limb. Second, how could he learn martial arts?
‘Who will I learn from?’
He needed to find someone to teach him martial arts, but he had no idea how to find such a person. Besides, even if he managed to get out of here, he was still a prisoner. If he escaped, a warrant for his arrest would surely be issued.
If that happened, who would be willing to teach martial arts to a criminal like him?
‘…It’s one obstacle after another.’
His thoughts became tangled once more. He was struck again by the thought that his grandfather's warning had been right. No matter that it was for revenge, he shouldn't have so easily revealed his hidden nature.
‘Did I dig my own grave?’
Even if he realized it now, it was too late. The deed was already done. The only fortunate thing was that the man didn’t seem to know he was still alive.
Or perhaps, he knew but left him alone, since he was to be executed anyway. It was while he was pondering these things.
Shuuuuu.
A faint sound came from somewhere. At this, the boy turned. Feeling that something was amiss, the boy held his breath and focused on the sounds around him.
‘What is that?’
Just as he was wondering, something caught the boy’s eye. Something like a faint haze was creeping out from the bottom right of the cell he was confined in. The boy’s eyes narrowed.
‘Is there a fire?’
He wondered if a fire had broken out in the prison building. But soon, that suspicion vanished. For a fire, there was no particular commotion, and it was too quiet.
But then, Thud!
Thud!
He heard the sounds of something falling over. Judging from the sounds, it seemed to be from the location of the officials on guard duty.
‘This is…’
The creeping haze was now spreading into the boy’s cell. A faint scent tickled his nose, and several herbs came to mind.
‘Saururus… Angelica, Valerian root, Ghost Shadow Grass…’
He had followed his grandfather, gathering and cultivating herbs, for nearly ten years. The boy, who was frighteningly sensitive to scents, immediately identified the herbs mixed in the faint, haze-like smoke.
‘…Sleep incense.’
Valerian root and Ghost Shadow Grass were herbs that induced sleep. With this combination, those who inhaled the smoke would not be able to wake for about four hours. But the boy was different.
‘The mixture is clumsy.’
If it had been his grandfather's mixture, it might have been a different story, but he had steadily built up a tolerance to various herbs since he was young, so sleep incense of this level wouldn't make him fall asleep.
‘Hm.’
The boy determined that something was happening. After all, sleep incense had been spread throughout the government prison in the dead of night when everyone should be asleep. The boy leaned against the wall and focused on the sounds.
Ssk, ssk!
He heard the sound of someone moving while suppressing their presence. It was a sound that most people would have difficulty noticing, but it reached the boy’s ears faintly.
‘Who is it?’
They came in after spreading sleep incense. That meant they had entered with a purpose. The sound of very quiet footsteps moved back and forth throughout the prison.
‘What are they trying to do?’
He couldn't tell who had invaded or why. Just then, the footsteps headed toward his cell. At this, the boy lowered his head and deliberately pretended to be asleep.
Ssk, ssk!
The footsteps that stopped in front of his cell showed no sign of moving on.
‘Could it be?’
Click!
The sound of the cell’s lock being opened followed.
‘…It was me?’
The target was clearly the boy himself. Now that this had happened, various thoughts ran through his mind. That man might have come all the way to the prison to dispose of him, who had not died.
But was there any reason to come for someone who was already sentenced to death?
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Whatever the purpose, it was certain that he was the target. The boy breathed as evenly as possible. So that they wouldn't notice he hadn't been affected by the sleep incense.
Ssk, ssk!
Again, he heard the sound of someone entering while suppressing their presence. The intruder who had carefully snuck inside. His eyes were closed, but he could feel the person was right in front of him.
Tuk!
The intruder nudged the boy with his foot. It seemed to be to confirm whether he was sound asleep. The boy relaxed his body and did not move.
Convinced that he was asleep, the intruder suddenly lifted the hair that was covering the boy's face. The intruder’s steady breathing paused for a moment.
‘…’
He could feel an emotional disturbance. The boy, who had learned about ordinary people's emotions from his grandfather, could sensitively perceive others' mental states through their expressions, actions, and breathing.
‘This is my chance.’
This kind of disturbance was an opportunity to strike at the enemy. The boy instantly swung the wooden stock binding his hands forcefully upward.
Thwack!
“Keuk!”
The defenseless intruder was struck in the jaw and staggered backward. The boy did not miss this fleeting moment and tried to smash the wooden stock down on the intruder’s head. At that very moment, the intruder kicked the boy’s abdomen.
Thud!
And in the instant he was pushed back, he quickly struck several points on the boy's chest with his fingers.
Tatatak!
At that, his body became rigid, unable to move. As he wondered what was happening, the intruder muttered in disbelief.
“How are you not asleep?”