Absolute Regression

Chapter 622: What Are You Doing Crouched Down Like That?

Geom Muyang looked out the window from his quarters.

Martial artists of the branch were visible in the courtyard.

Though they looked scattered and slouched as if resting from work, they were maintaining a strict and impenetrable perimeter in their own way.

Geom Muyang suddenly recalled what Gwak Yeong had said earlier.

―You must have a sibling too, right? If you do, then you'd understand how I feel, wouldn't you?

He had replied that he was someone who once wished his younger sibling would die, but that was a feeling from the past.

What if that younger sibling were currently being held hostage?

The first thought that came to mind was this.

Please, someone, just get him.

And then came the natural follow-up thought.

Even if someone wanted to take him, it wouldn’t be easy. And even if they did, they’d probably burst with rage and die. After hearing all the nonsense he spouted, it would be hard to tell who the real hostage was. They’d probably end up begging, “Please, we’ll let you go, just leave.”

Thinking such things naturally brought a faint smile to Geom Muyang’s lips.

It was no longer surprising that he thought this way when thinking of his younger sibling. What surprised him now was how unsurprising it had become.

At that moment, Ho Myeong’s voice was heard from outside.

“The investigation is complete.”

The door opened and Ho Myeong and Gwak Yeong entered.

Ho Myeong handed Geom Muyang a paper with the investigation results.

Geom Muyang carefully read through it.

It described in detail when and how the enemies approached and what they had said. Their appearances, speech patterns, and even physical features were all recorded.

Also, when she was blindfolded and transported by carriage to the place where the forged hidden weapon was made, she remembered how far they traveled and the sounds she heard along the way.

As Geom Muyang was reading, he looked up at Gwak Yeong. As if she understood why he looked at her without needing to ask, she replied.

“I remembered desperately. I thought that maybe, someday, a day like this might come. Though I didn’t expect it to be you people instead of the Martial Alliance.”

Geom Muyang’s gaze returned to the paper.

It detailed whom she met at the place where the counterfeit was made and the process of making the hidden weapon. It even included the type of iron used there and the tools involved in its production.

She was undoubtedly sharp. Not because she had a good memory, but because she memorized only the truly essential parts.

Geom Muyang handed the paper back to Ho Myeong.

“Send this to the Heavenly Communication Pavilion immediately.”

With information this detailed, the Heavenly Communication Pavilion might very well be able to uncover clues about the culprits.

Ho Myeong left, and only Geom Muyang and Gwak Yeong remained.

First, she expressed her gratitude for Geom Muyang’s promise to save her younger sibling.

“I couldn’t properly thank you earlier because everything was so chaotic. Truly, thank you.”

Geom Muyang gave no reply. Instead, he turned his head back toward the window.

Now that the investigation was over, she found herself even more tense.

What would happen to her now?

She still bore the crime of forging hidden weapons for the Demonic Cult.

He had promised to save her sibling—not to forgive her.

“I suppose I’m of no use anymore.”

She had shared everything she knew.

“Even if you decide to kill me and bury the truth, I won’t resent you. I won’t return as a ghost to haunt you.”

Of course, it wasn’t a statement made with sincerity.

She didn’t want to die. Saving her younger sibling was more important than her own life, but if this man truly rescued her sibling…

She wanted to live on with him. She wanted to see her younger sibling marry and have children. In place of their parents who had passed away early, she wanted to stay by his side until he could live independently.

If she died as well, her sibling would be left completely alone in the world.

At that moment, Geom Muyang suddenly spoke.

“She said you’d give me a promotion?”

For a moment, her eyes widened. She had said that while shouting at him back in the torture chamber. That she would make whatever he ordered for the rest of her life. That if he took her with him, he’d be promoted.

Of course, those were just words thrown out in the heat of the moment. She had never once truly considered a life making weapons for the Demonic Cult.

“Wait… are you really planning to take me with you? You’re joking, right?”

As she flustered, unsure of what to say—

Ho Myeong rushed back in. His expression alone made it clear how urgent the matter was.

“You must leave. Now.”

Geom Muyang sprang to his feet.

“An urgent message just came from the Heavenly Communication Pavilion. An emergency operation has been issued to the White Dragon Branch, and the target is this location.”

Outside the window, the branch martial artists were already on the move. They drew the weapons hidden between the piles of timber and dirt, climbed onto walls and rooftops, and began establishing a real defensive formation.

It was surprising enough that the Martial Alliance had learned of this location, but the true goal was even more shocking.

“It’s a rescue operation—for this woman.”

Because it was not a covert mission but an official operation of the Alliance, the Heavenly Communication Pavilion had been able to detect and report it swiftly.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Geom Muyang didn’t rush.

“How much time do we have?”

“We must escape within one quarter of an hour.”

Geom Muyang now understood why they had kept Gwak Yeong alive.

It was clear they intended to use her to incite a direct conflict between them and the Martial Alliance. By doing so, they might force them to retreat from Wuhan without even stepping in themselves.

And at this moment, the most important question was how the Alliance had discovered this location. On their way here, they had checked several times to ensure they weren’t being followed or monitored.

Then a sudden thought flashed through Geom Muyang’s mind.

With a look of suspicion, he asked Gwak Yeong,

“Did you happen to receive anything from them?”

“No, nothing.”

Then she flinched slightly.

“There’s one thing.”

She pulled out a letter from inside her robe.

“My younger sibling sent it to me.”

Geom Muyang didn’t take the letter by hand.

Instead, using Void Telekinesis, he lifted it into the air. Ho Myeong quickly understood what Geom Muyang was thinking.

Ho Myeong retrieved a leather pouch from inside his clothes. When he opened it, a dozen or so small and large bottles were lined up inside.

He took one of the bottles, removed the stopper, and dropped a single drop onto the letter.

The color of the letter turned blue.

“It’s Tracking Scent.”

Gwak Yeong gasped at his words.

“They must have expected us to find this woman and applied Tracking Scent in advance. Or perhaps they applied it in case she tried to run.”

At Ho Myeong’s explanation, Geom Muyang nodded. Whoever it was, it was clear they were extremely cunning.

Since the letter was from her younger sibling, she would have kept it close at all times.

Gwak Yeong was afraid.

More than the fear of this man exploding in rage at her, she was terrified he might cancel his promise.

Then the letter, floating in midair, flew back toward her.

Catching it reflexively, she looked at Geom Muyang with a puzzled expression and asked,

“Why are you giving this to me?”

With an indifferent look in his eyes, Geom Muyang replied,

“This is the last.”

The moment she heard those words, her heart sank. She took it to mean he was going to kill her.

But she was wrong.

Only a moment later did she realize—he meant for her to read it one last time before it was burned. If they failed to save her younger sibling, this letter would become that sibling’s final will to her.

Emotion surged in her heart. Even in this urgent situation, she was deeply grateful that Geom Muyang still considered her feelings.

“I’ve read it dozens of times—I’ve already memorized the contents.”

With trembling hands, she held the letter back out.

“Thank you.”

Fwoosh.

With a burst of Heat Yang Energy, the letter burned midair.

Meanwhile, Ho Myeong took out another bottle from the pouch and doused it over her body.

Since she had been carrying the letter, the scent of the Tracking Scent would have remained on her body as well. He masked it with another scent.

Geom Muyang led the way out of the room, followed by Gwak Yeong and Ho Myeong.

The martial artists split into recon units, main force, and rear guard, and two of them flanked Gwak Yeong, protecting her in case any hidden weapons came flying in.

Before the White Dragon Branch could storm in, they had already escaped the manor.

At Red Flower Pavilion, the most luxurious pleasure house in Wuhan, a man was drinking alone.

White hair, a sharply defined face, and eyes like those of a wounded beast. In truth, he was a man deeply scarred inside.

The one sitting alone without any courtesans, drinking in silence, was none other than Han Wolgaek.

Having lost his family to demonic cultists, he was the kind of man who would spring to his feet at the mere mention of the Demonic Cult. If the enemy was from the cult, he killed them without question. His hatred toward the Demonic Cult was that intense.

The reason he had come to Wuhan was because of a request from a particular person. A person no one would expect to ask for anything in their lifetime. That made the request all the more weighty.

And no one knew better than he just how deep his hatred toward the Demonic Cult ran.

―I’ll set the stage. Show us your sword dance. A demonic cultist is coming to Wuhan—one that only you can stop.

Han Wolgaek had not refused.

‘Fine. If it’s a demonic cultist, I’ll dance all they want.’

At that moment, a martial artist arrived to deliver a message. He gave a respectful bow and reported.

“It’s time.”

A deadly aura surged in Han Wolgaek’s eyes.

After emptying his final cup, he spoke coldly.

“Go and tell them—no member of the Demonic Cult who stepped onto Wuhan’s soil today will leave alive.”

Han Wolgaek exited Red Flower Pavilion and moved swiftly.

Just then, his eyes caught sight of someone.

A young man was crouched beside the outer wall of the pleasure house, staring at a small plant that had sprouted through the cracks in the stone.

Beside him lay a bamboo gathering basket and a small herb pouch containing a few roots of medicinal herbs. The basket held several unidentified insects.

Han Wolgaek frowned. He wasn’t one to tolerate such a sight.

As he walked past the young man, he spoke.

“What’s a man doing crouched down like that?”

The young man looked up at him. He was very young and remarkably handsome.

“You look fine enough! At a time like this, you should be swinging a sword one more time. Slack off like that and you’ll lose your head to some Demonic Cult bastard.”

He had always been the type who couldn't hold back when younger martial artists behaved in ways he didn’t approve of.

People said younger generations disliked the nagging of their seniors, but that only made him double down. If these youngsters collapsed, the righteous martial world would fall with them.

After delivering his heartfelt nagging, Han Wolgaek strode off past the spot with long strides.

The young man glanced at his back once, then returned his gaze to the plant.

Once Han Wolgaek disappeared from view, an old man approached the young man.

“What kind of plant are you observing so intently?”

The young man responded,

“Look at this. A Secret Silk Grass is blooming here.”

That young man was none other than the Poison King, and the old man was his attendant, Sangseon.

The Poison King wore a long robe over his usual outfit, concealing the poison pouches at his waist.

And so, this ordinary-looking robe could be considered the most dangerous weapon in the entire martial world.

Because if the Poison King ever flung that robe off, and the twelve poison pouches embroidered with the Twelve Zodiac Beasts were revealed, any opponent would be struck with terror and flee.

“It truly is Secret Silk Grass.”

Sangseon sat beside the Poison King, visibly amazed. He had already spotted several unfamiliar poisonous herbs. The Poison King had never before collected toxic plants in Wuhan.

It was just then—

From the distance, someone came running toward them. It was Han Wolgaek, the very same man who had passed by earlier.

He looked like a man who had forgotten something vital—frantic and in a rush.

His dignified face was now pale and panicked.

“Move aside!”

Han Wolgaek rushed past the Poison King and Sangseon like the wind. This time, he had no room for nagging.

He sprinted straight into Red Flower Pavilion, making a beeline for the latrines. Han Wolgaek was a master capable of controlling even his bodily functions with willpower, but today, nothing was going his way. He had never experienced such urgency before. Dignity and Demonic Cultists were problems for later.

Watching him disappear into the pavilion, Sangseon smiled and spoke.

“Looks like he’ll be glued to the latrine all day.”

At Sangseon’s words, the Poison King nodded. At the moment Han Wolgaek had spoken to him earlier while walking past, the Poison King had secretly administered a stomach-disrupting poison. He hadn’t moved a finger—he had simply looked at him, and in that instant, the poison was delivered.

In some ways, the most terrifying thing about the Poison King might not be his poisons themselves, but the youthful appearance that causes people to lower their guard the moment they see him.

In any case, Han Wolgaek should consider himself lucky things ended here. Had the Poison King truly meant harm, he would no longer be among the living.

“I’ve brought quite a few interesting poisons with me this time.”

Even without the Poison King saying so, Sangseon already knew that the poisons to be used during this visit to Wuhan would be unlike any other.

Unless Geom Muyang's life was truly at stake, no one would die from the Poison King's poisons. No one understood that better than the Poison King himself.

He knew exactly what role he played in the martial world. He also understood the consequences of killing a righteous martial artist with poison in front of the Main Division of the Martial Alliance.

The two of them began walking side by side. With a herb pouch at his side and an insect gathering basket in hand, who would ever suspect him to be the Poison King?

“Please take some rest at the inn. Once a new hiding place for the Great Young Master is decided, I’ll inform you.”

From the moment he arrived, the Poison King had been watching over Geom Muyang without a single pause.

“When is he coming?”

“Lord Demonic Buddha is making all haste. He should be arriving in Wuhan very soon.”

A strange sense of anticipation spread across the Poison King’s face. Sangseon assumed it was because he would soon be able to share the burden of protecting Geom Muyang.

But the Poison King’s anticipation stemmed from something Sangseon had not even considered.

“Make a list of the rare poisonous herbs that grow only in the Wuhan region.”