Yeomje sank down beside Taesa, tightly shutting his eyes.

He hoped that when he opened them, he would be back in his own chamber—that all of this was just a nightmare from last night.

But when he opened his eyes, the nightmare was right before him.

Geom Mugeuk’s gaze looking down on him was calm. Yet the calmness and politeness made it all the more terrifying. Because those clear eyes had killed all his subordinates. Killed them all politely.

Now it was his turn to fight. But he had no will to fight.

“So this day has finally come.”

Yeomje raised his voice in resentment.

“What grudge do you have against me? You’re doing this just because I owed you money?”

He didn’t kill him just because of some debt.

Their wickedness was too great; from the moment they arrived, they intended to kill everyone.

If they spared them and let things proceed as fate dictated, too many martial alliance warriors would die cleansing them.

The creed of regression applied here in Baekseonbang as well:

Kill those who must die, spare those who must live.

“You’re greedy for money you won’t even be able to carry if you die?”

Yeomje clenched his teeth as he looked over the soaked blood. Such words were for losers—people who couldn’t earn money. What value could possibly be higher than money?

In the end, he cursed.

“You damn bastard! It’s my money! All my money! Whether I scatter it in the marketplace or fill my coffin with it, what does it matter to you?!”

Geom Mugeuk saw madness in his eyes. This was a life lived that way—how could a few words bring remorse?

Suddenly, the words of Eunha Sangdanju came to mind.

—I’ve seen too many people who got caught up in the fun of making money and got devoured by it.

Yeomje was one of those driven to the extreme. And now, he shouldn’t be so proud.

“That’s not your money.”

Struck at his core, Yeomje gritted his teeth. That was all he could say in reply.

“Who are you then?”

The answer came immediately.

“How many times do I have to say? I’m the person here to collect the money.”

They kept asking because he had no concept of repaying borrowed money.

“Open your personal safe.”

If this wasn’t the purpose, it wasn’t worth a single word of conversation.

“There’s no such thing.”

Even though ninety-nine subordinates had died, he refused to open a personal safe. A man who valued money more than life.

‘How did I earn that money?’

He really earned it by any means necessary. Beating people, kidnapping, selling, killing. Even if he went to hell, he intended to live well here.

He planned never to give it up, even if he died.

“I know your safe is in this main hall.”

Yeomje tried to stay calm, but who could be fooled? His heartbeat thundered loud enough for Geom Mugeuk to hear.

“Didn’t you say when you opened that safe? The Baekseonbang safe is here, where you spend most of your time. Then your personal safe must be here too.”

Geom Mugeuk pressed without giving him time to think.

“I’ll find the money myself.”

Geom Mugeuk drew his sword. Just as he was about to strike decisively—

“I’ll open it! Spare me!”

Geom Mugeuk’s sword stopped midair.

Even then, Geom Mugeuk did not miss it. Yeomje spoke as if resigned, but a will to never give up flickered in his eyes.

“You’re right. The safe is here.”

Yeomje stood and walked to the back. He entered the empty safe opened earlier and touched the ceiling. It was a plain wall with no devices, but there was a hidden mechanism.

Zziiing.

One wall inside the safe opened, revealing an abacus.

The safe was a disguise to hide the real safe.

A double safe.

The money and gold in the first safe guarded the real safe with a security mechanism and guards.

Those tempted by the money inside wouldn’t suspect another safe behind.

Yeomje clicked the abacus beads. It was a precise mechanism requiring correct input to open.

“Not a single number can be wrong.”

For some reason, he showed the numbers he input.

Three, two, four.

Before raising the last number, Yeomje suddenly turned and said,

“I know opening this won’t spare my life.”

Turning to Geom Mugeuk, he gave a meaningful smile.

He raised the final bead upward.

The number was four.

At that moment—

Chiiiiik.

Smoke sprayed from the ceiling where the two stood. When the wrong number was entered, poison gas sprayed from a mechanism to deter intruders.

Yeomje laughed within the poison gas.

“The last number wasn’t four but three.”

He spoke with a cruel glare.

“It’s the most painful poison in the world. You’ll feel your organs melting away. Anyone coveting my money will die in hellish pain!”

He burst into laughter, then screamed in agony. The pain was unbearable, but it didn’t matter. He was going to die anyway—and could take that bastard with him.

‘Let’s die together, you bastard!’

Struggling in pain, he looked at Geom Mugeuk. The last sight of this world he’d carry would be Geom Mugeuk writhing in agony.

But the expected sight never came.

‘What the—?’

Geom Mugeuk still stood silently, staring at him.

‘Why?’

They had both inhaled the poison gas. He felt Geom Mugeuk looked at him either mockingly or pitifully.

He was confused. Even amid the excruciating pain melting his whole body, he wondered why he didn’t die.

Just before his breath left him, Geom Mugeuk’s voice came to his ear.

“The last number was three?”

Hearing that, Yeomje screamed.

‘No!’

He had shown the numbers thinking they would die together. But now—

‘It’s my money! It’s my money!’

Tormented by losing his money more than by the melting organs, he died. Until his last breath, he died a slave to money.

Geom Mugeuk ignored the fallen corpse, entered the correct numbers on the abacus.

The hidden safe opened.

Inside were only receipts stacked.

The receipts were all high-value notes issued at the Three Great Battlegrounds of Central Plains. They were prepared for quick retrieval anytime.

Geom Mugeuk gathered them all and left.

He didn’t glance once at Yeomje’s corpse. As always, he gave no meaning to the deaths of villains.

In his life, they flowed like blood underfoot.

Geum Arin paced anxiously in the courtyard.

She couldn’t stay waiting in her room—it was too frustrating.

“Should I go now?”

Im Hyuk, standing a little distance away, firmly replied,

“No.”

His duty was to protect Geum Arin, so he would never accept her words.

“He might die.”

“Still no.”

After a pause, Im Hyuk added,

“The Sword Swordsman will be fine.”

Yes, she thought so too. If only that were all.

“What if the opponent is Baekseonbang?”

The answer came to Im Hyuk’s mind.

“Yes, even if it’s Baekseonbang.”

But he kept silent to protect Geum Arin’s feelings. He didn’t want her to hope in vain…

Just then, a salty scent of blood rode the wind.

Im Hyuk swiftly leapt and blocked Geum Arin’s path.

The blood scent thickened.

The door opened, and someone entered the inner courtyard.

“You?”

Geum Arin was momentarily speechless.

The one entering was Geom Mugeuk. His clothes and body were soaked with blood.

“Are you hurt?”

Startled, she asked. Geom Mugeuk staggered forward, clutching his chest, then sat on a rock.

“I have a last request. If I die, please be sure to tell Father. This son went to the mortal peril to collect money on a woman’s request…”

“This is boring, let’s stop.”

“Did I give it away?”

Of course, his acting was exaggerated and obvious.

But even if the acting had been convincing, she wouldn’t have been fooled. This man wouldn’t say a word at death. He seemed like someone who would quietly die, leaning on a small rock, gazing at the windy plain with those clear eyes.

She had never thought that way, but seeing his death act made her think so.

Later, she felt relieved.

“You came back safely.”

“Were you worried?”

Geum Arin did not answer, but he could feel how worried she had been.

“Here, take this.”

Geom Mugeuk pulled out a full envelope from his satchel.

“What’s this?”

“Money that must be returned from Baekseonbang. Go and return it.”

The envelope had names of merchant guilds and sects. It included one with the Geumryong family’s name. Inside was a receipt for one million five hundred thousand nyang.

Geum Arin’s eyes widened.

“You really got all the money back?”

“Half, as promised.”

She hoped for his safe return.

“Just come back safely. Even if you don’t get the money, just come back safely,” she prayed desperately. And now he really got all the money?

“What happened to Baekseonbang?”

Her trembling question was met with a shocking answer.

“Baekseonbang no longer exists.”

Stunned, Geum Arin said nothing. Im Hyuk, standing behind, also widened his eyes in surprise.

Of course it made sense if he got the money back. But hearing this directly made his heart pound.

He destroyed Baekseonbang alone? Was that really possible?

Then Geom Mugeuk handed her another envelope.

“This is money from my share.”

Looking at the amount, it was an unexpectedly large sum.

“I don’t need it.”

“It’s not for you to use.”

“Really?”

“There are merchants and residents living hard lives because of Baekseonbang’s tyranny.”

Of course, there were many such people.

“Use this money to help them.”

Geum Arin was surprised. After staring at Geom Mugeuk for a moment, she cautiously asked,

“Why ask me? You could do it yourself.”

Then he would get all the credit for that good deed.

“You asked me to make you the successor, didn’t you? I’m keeping that promise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your reputation will rise ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) greatly for retrieving the money from each merchant guild. If you also help those in hardship, you’ll move one step closer to the successor’s seat.”

Geum Arin was momentarily speechless.

“I hadn’t thought of it myself.”

Then unexpectedly, Geom Mugeuk answered,

“That’s why I think you deserve to be the successor.”

“What?”

“Because your desire is still pure.”

After staring at him for a moment, Geum Arin honestly said,

“That desire will soon be tainted.”

“If our fate continues, at least it won’t be tainted.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“I’ll introduce you to friends. They’re surprisingly pure for their positions. If you hang out with them, you’ll think, ‘They’re pure, but what about me?’”

Surprisingly pure for their positions? Who could he mean?

From the first meeting, Geom Mugeuk was no ordinary man, but the more she got to know him, the more mysterious he seemed.

“I paid a high price to hire you; you deserve this much credit.”

Though Geom Mugeuk had been showing off all day, he soon left.

Geum Arin looked down at the envelopes left behind and murmured to herself,

“I thought so too.”

Now she wondered.

Had she hired him for too cheap a price?

Two envelopes were placed on the table.

“I’ll share the money earned from this job equally.”

My father looked at me, surprised at the unexpectedly large amount.

“They had saved quite a lot. Originally even more, but they spent some to help those who suffered.”

Hwi spoke cautiously.

“I’m satisfied with the money I received earlier.”

Naturally, I expected Hwi to say that.

“You’ll definitely need it later.”

“No, I don’t need it. Please give it to the Master.”

I persuaded him, still hesitant.

“You have to prepare for when the sword’s power runs out. For traveling and such. You’ve guarded all your life; then you should have bodyguards. Expensive ones.”

Hwi’s expression showed he had never thought of that before.

My father looked at me teasingly, then told Hwi,

“Accept it.”

“Yes, Master.”

Hwi packed the envelope.

“Then I’ll gratefully accept it. I’ll use this money for the junior guards.”

He meant the junior guards at the Cheonma Palace.

“No! Sir, this is your retirement fund!”

Then Hwi smiled faintly and asked me,

“You, Little Pill Master, aren’t you going to use that money yourself?”

Hwi knew. He knew I would invest this money in Eunwol and Guiyeongdae.

“I’m still young, so retirement savings…”

“You start from young.”

Hwi’s words made me feel good.

He’d lived stiff like frozen iron all his life; this life, I hope, they live softly and joyfully.

Then my father suddenly asked me,

“Are you okay?”

His words struck my heart deeply.

He’d asked the same before.

Even after my hands were stained with blood, was my heart okay?

Though I had washed clean and changed clothes, apparently he couldn’t erase the blood scent I gave off.

I briefly examined my feelings.

“I think I’m okay.”

He wouldn’t understand how much strength that question gave me.

And at this moment, I realized the important thing wasn’t answering okay or not okay.

“If I’m struggling later, I’ll be sure to tell you.”

To convey that a son relies on his father—that’s far more important.

“This time, I’m pushing through trusting only my father.”

“What if they find out we came?”

I didn’t care.

“Well, if things get complicated, Father will handle it. Didn’t I tell you on the way? We need to show those schemers behind us that Father is here in this martial world.”

It wasn’t mere flattery—it was sincere.

So the first words I’ll send to them on this journey with Father are:

“If you’re confident, come out and face me.”