Again, reactions split in two.

The majority reacted as if facing a madman. The absolute reassurance given by the number ninety-nine made them smirk.

Some felt nervous.

One worry arose in their minds.

What if he’s not a madman?

If that assumption became reality, then his words about reducing mouths would be like the Grim Reaper opening the register.

Among those worried was Yeomje himself. He stared intently at Geom Mugeuk, trying to discern his hidden strength, but could reach no conclusion.

He was too young, and no matter how he looked, not a high-level master, yet he spoke like this in this situation.

“You must have had your share of love and hate for the head of the sect. Let me handle this. Which mouth shall I start with? To me, they all seem like mouths that could disappear.”

The immortals frowned simultaneously. Many wanted to rush out and kill this arrogant fellow immediately.

Yeomje had never seen anything like this. No master in the world could speak such madness in front of them. Even the Martial Alliance wouldn’t dare invade when they all gathered.

‘Could it be he’s pretending? Using this madness to look like a master?’

That thought crossed his mind. This man was truly confusing the more you looked.

‘Well, first, we must see his strength.’

Before the man attacked, they would act first.

Yeomje smiled leisurely and said,

“Long-lived life makes reducing mouths not so easy.”

At Yeomje’s gesture, nine men from ranks ninety to ninety-eight stepped forward. They would accurately assess the opponent’s strength before deciding what to do.

They surrounded Geom Mugeuk.

Geom Mugeuk glanced over them and said,

“Are you the youngest?”

Though a guess, Geom Mugeuk accurately assessed their skills. Judging by their spirit, they were weaker than the others.

Among so many, Geom Mugeuk recognized their strength just by looking briefly. Not only that.

“It seems you have never fought in coordinated attacks either.”

He saw clearly. They never had a chance to cooperate. Mostly, they rushed in a group for revenge and carried out one-sided massacres. Even that rarely recently.

“Trying to size up my skill?”

Of course, Geom Mugeuk would not follow their intention.

With his sword lowered, he slowly walked toward the opponent in front.

Whoosh.

In an instant, he veered sharply right and surged forward. The movement was so fast and sudden that the one on the right was cut before he could even swing his sword.

SPLAT!

Blood sprayed everywhere as Geom Mugeuk charged toward another immortal. The opponent instinctively thrust his sword.

Two swords clashed in midair. Because Geom Mugeuk concealed his true skill thoroughly, his sword was just about half a step ahead.

Thunk!

When the second immortal was killed, sighs erupted here and there. The regret was that the immortal might have won if just a bit faster.

The sword that pierced the second opponent’s heart then spun widely, flying toward another attacker running from the opposite side.

Splash!

Blood from Geom Mugeuk’s sword flew through the air into an immortal’s eyes. Whether intentional or not, the immortal blinked momentarily. That closed eye would never open again. Sighs spread around again. Why blood in the eye of all places?

When the third man was cut down, a sneak attack came from behind.

The attacker was almost certain of success, but the strike narrowly missed.

It was so close that the thought “Once more” came naturally, but there was no second chance for him.

Blood spewed from him again, obscuring the remaining immortals’ sight.

They wondered if Geom Mugeuk deliberately splattered blood to block vision. Surely not.

Those watching thought so. That much blood was sprayed like a fountain. Geom Mugeuk’s fight was not elegant. It was rough and violent. A fight dripping with the smell of blood.

Of course, Geom Mugeuk had a reason for such fighting.

The battle was tense. If only a little faster, if only attacking from a slightly different angle.

Leaving such regrets, the remaining immortals fell one after another. Sighs of regret continued, and after the ninth sigh, all had collapsed as corpses.

Their spilled blood filled the hall.

The silence was heavier than when the ninety-ninth rank died earlier. No one expected nine masters to die without leaving a single scratch on the opponent.

Yet they didn’t think the opponent was extraordinary.

Most watching thought, “What a lucky guy!” The fight really seemed like a close loss.

Moreover, Geom Mugeuk’s swordsmanship was very ordinary.

“Defense like that, attack like this.”

It was a fight perfect to show to beginners just learning martial arts. A fight that could be drawn and published as a textbook.

Of course, Yeomje saw this fight differently.

“Though it looked instinctively rough.”

The nine subordinates never once fought in true coordination.

If two or three attacked simultaneously, the fight could have been easier. Surely they tried, but the opponent’s movement didn’t allow it, and they were defeated individually.

“If this was an intended fight? If this tense lucky fight was thoroughly calculated?”

Yeomje knew. Killing with basics was very difficult. Much harder than killing with flashy techniques.

“This guy has a hidden trump card.”

After wiping blood from his sword, Geom Mugeuk looked at Yeomje and said,

“Now that I’ve reduced the mouths, will you pay the money?”

Yeomje did not answer.

‘Where on earth did they find and send this guy?’

Geom Mugeuk saw the greed that could not be hidden on Yeomje’s face.

From prior investigation, Geom Mugeuk already knew Yeomje was such a man. One who values money more than subordinates.

He would rather give his life than surrender all his earnings.

Therefore, opening Yeomje’s vault must not be rushed.

He could sweep it all at once, but by shedding blood gradually and raising the atmosphere, he must break Yeomje’s heart little by little. The main goal today was to recover money, not kill.

“Just killed some errand boys and gotten arrogant.”

Though they were not such people, Yeomje forced a show of confidence, suppressing unknown unease.

‘Who to send?’

Just when he debated sending the Ten Immortals to nip the problem in the bud,

Geom Mugeuk showed an unexpected move.

“Let me pass for a moment.”

Suddenly, Geom Mugeuk began walking toward the immortals on the right.

The immortals there drew swords and stepped back. They parted naturally to let a path open.

Though fierce and glaring, Geom Mugeuk passed through with an unafraid expression.

His natural step showed an opening. They hesitated whether to attack but dared not due to how obvious the flaw was.

But one immortal couldn’t hold back. This was an attack calculated to raise his rank by ten steps at once.

Whoosh.

An unmistakably clean sneak attack.

Thud.

Geom Mugeuk twisted his body and dodged, stabbing with his sword.

Again, he dodged and barely succeeded in counterattack.

Some immortals flinched at that moment. Tormented by desire to seize the chance to attack, but the one recently killed was rank forty-five. A mid-level expert here failed the sneak attack.

Even the ninety-eighth and forty-fifth ranks barely made it.

One should draw a wise conclusion from this result, but Geom Mugeuk gave no such chance.

“Is this painting genuine?”

Holding his blood-dripping sword, he walked to a painting on the back wall.

Yeomje asked with suspicion,

“Why do you ask?”

“If you don’t have enough money, you plan to take this too, right?”

Yeomje’s face hardened. The opponent was openly mocking him. He had dignity to protect in front of his subordinates.

But this young opponent’s strange unease was greater.

“Do I look like someone who hangs fake paintings where people come and go?”

In a place thick with the smell of blood from subordinates, such pride? Geom Mugeuk felt a strange alienation.

But he was the only one who felt that.

The subordinates ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) felt no discomfort at those words. They cared more for their own face and money than comrades.

Geom Mugeuk began removing the framed painting from the wall.

Just as Yeomje’s expression stiffened sharply.

Swoosh!

An immortal nearby seized the opportunity for a sneak attack, just as Geom Mugeuk lifted the painting. When Geom Mugeuk held the painting in his right hand, the immortal lost his patience. Yet ultimately he had to endure.

Thwack!

The sword missed narrowly, and Geom Mugeuk’s left fist struck the immortal’s jaw hard.

The thirty-ninth rank might have survived a punch, but he died instantly. It wasn’t an impressive fist technique.

Yeomje’s gaze went not to the dead subordinate but to the painting. He was caught by one doubt.

‘Why does he need to take the painting now? If really necessary, he could take it later.’

Geom Mugeuk put the frame on the table piled with vouchers. It looked like everything here belonged to him.

“What are you doing now?”

Yeomje asked, and Geom Mugeuk answered calmly,

“Because you’ve lived such lives, there are few ways to deal with you. So do not blame me.”

The immortals stared at Geom Mugeuk as if he was spouting nonsense.

Suddenly, a bad thought struck Yeomje.

‘Could it be? No way.’

At that moment—

Shiiiiiiik!

Yeomje saw a line.

Not only him, but everyone saw it. A line was drawn crisply then vanished.

The line appeared on Geom Mugeuk’s right. The same side where he had taken the painting.

The line passed through the immortals standing there. Those in the first, second, and third rows all.

Then they saw Geom Mugeuk extending his sword toward them.

Only then did they realize.

The line they had just seen was a sword line created by Geom Mugeuk’s sword energy.

‘Sword energy can fly as a single straight line?’

It was not like a brilliant light nor a lingering afterimage.

It was a clean straight line, as if drawn with a ruler.

They had never seen such pure sword energy before.

Silence fell.

Clack.

As Geom Mugeuk’s Black Demon Sword slid back into its sheath—

Ssssss—

The immortals on the right started staggering.

The sword energy severed them. They spewed blood and collapsed on the spot.

“Uaaah!”

One immortal watching from the front screamed. No matter how tough the masters, seeing about twenty bodies cut in a single strike was terrifying.

And they understood why he took the painting. The sword energy that cut the immortals left a long line on the back wall.

Yeomje’s eyes widened.

He had survived many crises in martial arts but had he ever been so shocked?

He knew the opponent had a hidden trump card but never expected him to kill about twenty subordinates in one stroke.

The other immortals were the same. No one here was smirking anymore.

The thick scent of fresh blood filled the hall.

“He must have used a lot of internal power and have none left!”

If one had looked into Geom Mugeuk’s dantian, they could never say that, but at Yeomje’s shout, all immortals drew swords.

Though they showed murderous intent, Geom Mugeuk was not intimidated.

“Don’t draw your swords. Pay the money.”

Despite thirty-odd subordinates dead, Yeomje still did not say he would pay. Their lives had yet to touch even a hair of the three million nyang owed.

“Looks like your mouths must be reduced further.”

This time Geom Mugeuk quietly looked to the left side immortals.

“Fortunately, there’s no painting on this wall.”