Seo Woojin looked around him.

There was nothing there.

A long table set down in that wide space. Lavish dishes laid out at either end.

A space where the raw smell of blood and the heavy smell of meat mixed strangely together.

In that grim room, the man at the far end belonged more than anything else there.

The Clan Head of the Black Dragon Woon Clan. Woon Taeryun.

He wore a gentle smile as he waved Seo Woojin to a seat.

“Good. You got here before the food went cold. First, sit down.”

It felt nothing like facing Cheon Baekhyeon.

With Cheon Baekhyeon, he had reacted before he could think. It had been like standing in front of a storm coming to swallow everything.

Woon Taeryun was different.

Because he was ordinary.

He might have been a merchant. He might have been a scholar.

And that ordinariness had the alarm in Seo Woojin’s head ringing nonstop.

‘Nothing about him fits the butchery one floor down. Damn it.’

Seo Woojin let out a small sigh and sat at the end of the table directly opposite Woon Taeryun.

Then he looked at the food in front of him. It was nothing he had ever seen before, and most of it he could not have named.

“There’s a lot laid out. It must have been a hard climb — take a bite.”

Seo Woojin shook his head at the offer.

“My apologies. I don’t eat anything in an unfamiliar place.”

It was, in its way, a show of hostility, but Woon Taeryun accepted it without blinking.

“Is that so? Well. That kind of caution is a strength. Then wait. I skipped a meal waiting for you.”

And having said it, he actually ate.

A hollow laugh came out of Seo Woojin before he could stop it, but he decided to wait without a word.

Tak.

He set his sword on the table and stared at Woon Taeryun as the man ate.

Not that it bothered Woon Taeryun in the least.

He ate at a pace that was neither fast nor slow.

He took a little from every dish, and now and then closed his eyes to savor the taste.

Between mouthfuls he drained a cup that seemed to hold liquor, and the whole picture was of a man honestly enjoying a meal.

It was an ease that was hard to measure.

Not a performance. Ease he had been born with.

‘Where does that ease come from?’

As far as Seo Woojin knew, Woon Taeryun had stayed out of public affairs for a long while now.

Dark Alliance business he had handed over to Woon Seorin, and clan business he had left entirely to the Young Clan Head.

In truth, the Woon Clan’s presence was as strong as ever, but Woon Taeryun’s own was fading.

‘He hides himself completely and works his power from behind cover? He doesn’t look like that kind of man.’

The very fact that he had staged this whole game just for a meeting said he was not without a taste for display.

‘Is he waiting for his moment? Then what is the Woon Clan’s final goal? What is Clan Head Woon’s? Does he want to go on living in the Murim Alliance’s shadow like this?’

He would probably never know the answer to that unless the man told him himself.

Woon Seorin did not seem to know either.

While his thoughts ran on, Woon Taeryun finished his meal.

He set down his spoon and chopsticks and wiped his mouth with the cloth beside him.

“Mm. Forgive me. I’ve kept you waiting.”

The apology came in a tone that held no apology at all, and a short laugh escaped Seo Woojin.

“Well, what can I do. It’s fine. I’m not so cold-hearted as to keep a man from his dinner.”

“Hoho. An amusing fellow. Well, good. Then let’s talk a while.”

Seo Woojin nodded.

“You prepared all this for me, so state your business first. I’ll state mine after.”

Woon Taeryun’s eyes widened a little, as though surprised.

“Ho. You have business of your own?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Woon Taeryun held Seo Woojin’s eyes for a moment, then smiled.

“I like your directness very much. I wouldn’t have known it without seeing you myself.”

“If that’s a compliment, thank you. I’m relieved as well — you seem more reasonable than I expected.”

“Hahaha. Is that so? True enough. A reasonable man is hard to find on the dark path. Which reminds me, you seem to have a fair eye for people yourself. You did manage to see Clan Head Baek for what he really was.”

Out of nowhere, he had brought up the Clear Water Baek Clan of Ningbo.

Seo Woojin did not know what he was driving at, but he answered honestly.

“Everyone saw Clan Head Baek for what he was. They simply didn’t take him.”

“No. Because they could not see his value, none of them was willing to invest heavily in him. In the end, they failed to see his value.”

Woon Seorin’s warning flashed through his mind.

That chilling account of a man who always put a price on people.

Seo Woojin pushed down his distaste and let a sneer settle at his mouth.

“Then did you fail to see his value as well?”

A blatant provocation, in its way.

Woon Taeryun’s smile only deepened.

“I saw it.”

“Then…”

“Then why did I not take him. Hoho. I told you, didn’t I. Nobody saw his true value. With no competitor in the field, there was no reason for me to go to him from below. So I waited for the moment.”

“The moment?”

“When he was most desperate. When he had fallen into the deepest despair. That was the moment I waited for. At that moment, a hand held out with a single coin in it would have felt warmer to him than the Buddha’s own.”

Seo Woojin’s hand closed into a fist before he knew he had done it.

Woon Taeryun glanced at the fist and went on.

“If you hadn’t appeared, Clan Head Baek would have become my man. Yes. My error was in not watching for a new competitor.”

Seo Woojin asked,

“Does it gall you? Losing him to me.”

Woon Taeryun nodded frankly.

“It does. No — to be exact, it did. But not now.”

Seo Woojin’s brow twitched.

“Why is that.”

“Because I believe I’ve found a talent more capable than he is. And if I make that talent mine, then Clan Head Baek becomes mine along with him. I found I had nothing left to regret.”

Seo Woojin pushed his hair back. Then he let the hostility show.

“That talent could turn out to be an enemy you can’t handle.”

Again Woon Taeryun conceded it readily.

“True. A talent who will become my enemy, or a talent who will become mine. Judging that is why you’re sitting there now.”

Seo Woojin leaned back against the chair and folded his arms.

“Then judge.”

Woon Taeryun stroked his chin and studied Seo Woojin closely.

“First, I’d like one question settled.”

“Ask it.”

“On the floor just below. Why did you knock that man unconscious?”

Seo Woojin frowned.

It was a question out of nowhere.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Just what I said. I’m curious why you saved him and then knocked him out on the spot.”

What was behind the question?

He could not begin to guess.

Seo Woojin sighed lightly and answered without resistance.

“I learned a lesson a while back. The most hidden assassin can sometimes be the weakest person in the room.”

It was a lesson carved into his soul.

Even now, when he thought of Baek Soeun, the skin around the wound ached.

He would probably never forget it.

“You’re a clan head who put a formation stone inside a man’s belly. So I judged you capable of worse. An order, say, to ambush the man who had just saved his life.”

“Hoho. You think far too poorly of me.”

Swish.

Glug-glug. Tak.

Woon Taeryun filled his cup and drained it in one swallow.

And when he looked at Seo Woojin again, a cold smile hung at his mouth.

“If the answer out of your mouth had been ‘I wanted to ease his pain,’ I would have rated you very highly. I might well have spared nothing in supporting you.”

“…”

“But the answer you gave puts me on my guard.”

In his narrowed eyes was a hostility whose meaning was hard to read.

“On guard, that is, against the possibility you just named yourself — that you become the largest obstacle in my way.”

Woon Taeryun turned the cup this way and that as he went on.

“I’ll begin with a threat.”

To come right out and call it a threat.

It was absurd, and it landed heavier than any threat could have.

“Bow your head to me. Do that and I’ll put you to good use.”

Seo Woojin put the question back to him.

“And if I refuse?”

Woon Taeryun nodded along and answered calmly.

“The fact that you’re a fake will spread through Zhejiang, and through the whole of the Central Plains besides. The many warriors of the dark path who took to you and gave you their trust will feel betrayed, and they’ll throw stones at you.”

“…”

“And that’s not all. The Gok Clan and the Cheon Clan have been sharpening their knives for you, and they will hold nothing back. You’ll be tortured savagely, forced to confess to things that have no answer. I promise you this — the dark path’s methods of torture are further along than the righteous path’s. You’ll end up begging them to kill you instead.”

Seo Woojin only listened, unmoved.

There was no anger in him, and no sign of fear either.

But.

What Woon Taeryun said next was sharp enough.

“The Four Black Dragons won’t come out of it whole either.”

Seo Woojin’s brow twitched.

“Naturally. They failed to serve the real Young Lord and then had the gall to put a fake forward. Every one of them will have his martial arts destroyed first. After that — well. They might be killed, or they might be given a life more wretched than death.”

Woon Taeryun had already taken his measure.

He had probably reasoned it out from the way the clans under the Gok Clan had been annihilated over the Baek Clan business.

That Seo Woojin held the people inside his own fence precious.

Something in Seo Woojin’s face seemed to please Woon Taeryun; his smile grew thicker than before.

“The threat is made, so now I should make an offer.”

“…”

“Become my man. Do that and you’ll be Alliance Lord, and whatever you want, you’ll be able to have. You’ll no longer be a fake — you’ll be a more rightful and legitimate Alliance Lord than anyone.”

Woon Taeryun poured wine into the empty cup.

Tap. Shhk!

Tak.

Then he threw the cup toward Seo Woojin’s end of the table.

It skidded fast across the surface and stopped precisely in front of Seo Woojin.

Seo Woojin sat in silence and stared at the cup.

“Remember today’s humiliation, build your strength, turn a blade on me — that’s all fine. I’ll bear it. But for now, take my offer. To a man with no power at all, the Woon Clan will be the greatest backing there is.”

It was a sweet offer.

Heard in the shadow of a cold threat, the sweetness only came through thicker.

A short laugh escaped Seo Woojin.

Tak.

Seo Woojin picked up the sword he had set on the table.

A brief silence.

And then.

Shhwack! CRASHHH—!!

He swept the dishes in front of him off the table in one motion.

The vessels, hurled aside, smashed into the floor and scattered shards like screams. The lavish spread flew in every direction like slop.

The cleared table seemed to satisfy him; he wore a thick smile.

“Ah. My apologies. The smell of the food has been turning my stomach for a while now.”

“…”

Woon Taeryun’s smile was slowly fading.

“You made a threat and an offer, so I intend to do the same.”

“Amusing. Let’s hear it.”

Seo Woojin leaned forward and set one arm on the table.

“The day it comes out that I’m a fake, it will also come out that I’m the Sword Saint’s grandson.”

“…The Sword Saint’s grandson?”

Just as he had expected.

Back when he broke the Sword Saint’s sword, he had brushed Woon Seorin off with the line that it was a convincing lie.

If Woon Seorin had had any room to breathe, she would have found the hole in it.

The question, for one, of where he had gotten hold of a Sword Saint’s sword good enough to fool Cho Igyeom’s eye.

But at the time she had needed to watch the Cheon Clan’s next move at once, and to prepare for the test right after.

A hole Woon Seorin had missed, he had assumed the Woon Clan would miss too. To be exact, they would have been more curious about his intent than about the truth of that sword.

And as he had expected, the surprise on Woon Taeryun was plain.

“He’s a forgotten figure now, but if the Sword Saint’s name surfaces in the world again, people are certain to remember. A hero who once saved the Central Plains.”

“…”

“I find myself curious. A hero who once saved the Central Plains. For what reason would his grandson try to become Lord of the Dark Alliance? Hoho. Isn’t that a subject people would take an interest in?”

Seo Woojin picked up the cup in front of him. Of everything that had gone to the floor, somehow the cup alone had survived.

“There’ll be no torture. The Murim Alliance won’t sit still for it. And the truth will change, too. It could become something I had no choice but to do under the Black Dragon Woon Clan’s coercion. Or the desperate story of a grandson who slipped into the dark path to find his enemy could be the thing that draws the eye.”

Seo Woojin turned an indifferent gaze on Woon Taeryun.

“The Woon Clan will have to bear it. Political pressure from the Cheon Clan and the Gok Clan, and the Murim Alliance breathing down your neck on top of it. The dark path’s warriors will call me a traitor, of course, but the world at large will pity me.”

“An information war is not something you wage by running your mouth. Moving public opinion also takes power, in the end.”

A small laugh escaped Seo Woojin.

“Have you forgotten? That the Crazed Fiend stands at my side.”

Seo Woojin tipped his head back slightly.

“Can you bear it? The influence of the Crazed Fiend… no. Of the Martial Lord.”

Woon Taeryun did not answer.

And the longer his silence ran, the deeper Seo Woojin’s smile grew.

He spoke as though mimicking what Woon Taeryun had said earlier.

“The threat is made, so now I’ll make an offer.”

Tap. Shhk—!

Seo Woojin sent the cup back toward Woon Taeryun.

Tak.

It stopped, as before, right in front of him.

“Put down everything complicated. Keep it clean.”

The words drove straight into Woon Taeryun’s ear.

“Just make a deal with me.”

A pretty fine offer, at that.

(End of Chapter 46)