Heuk Ui-in—a man in black.

The meaning is simple and clear.

But in the martial world, a "man in black" carries a bit more nuance.

Not exactly a total idiot.

Seems like he might be strong in martial arts, too. That kind of vibe.

But the moment someone rips off his mask, his mystique drops sharply. The key is maintaining that mystery. Honestly, I don’t think anyone in the martial world has studied the essence of the man in black like I have.

I am the foremost expert on men in black. That’s who I am.

First, the fundamental stance of a man in black is: arms crossed.

Preferred movement zones include walls, rooftops, gate tops, and alleys, but the most critical part is how he enters. The textbook move is to emerge from the shadows, arms folded, with a low, gravelly chuckle.

“Hoohoohoo…”

Three laughs is the optimal number—delivered with leisure.

Important note: don’t make it sound goofy.

You want it somewhere between “hoohoo” and “heh heh,” pitched slightly low. “Hehehe” or “hihihi” are degenerate laughs—only used by freaks like the Left Guardian or lunatics. Absolutely not recommended.

In my view, a man in black must be weighty like the dark and mysterious like the moonlight. These are the two essential traits.

However, if you examine it more closely, the man in black has pretty clear limitations.

Honestly, from my personal experience fighting the highest-level masters in the martial world, most of these black-clad guys were idiots.

True masters show themselves exactly as they are.

To generalize it using the ranking terms so popular among those who love categorizing everything, a man in black barely skims the tier of “first-class expert.” Maybe slightly above or below.

But when someone like me, who outclassed those guys, plays the role of a man in black, the reason is simple:

I want attention.

Hard to believe, I know—but the martial world has a very precise term for people like that.

Attention-Seekers.

A real term. It refers to those who deliberately act strange or flashy to draw others' attention.

In martial world lingo, it’s shortened to:

Attention Whore Yi Zaha.

That’s me.

I booked a room not far from the Sword-Breaking Society and waited for the moon to rise. Time to transform into an attention-hungry man in black.

When I pulled out the black outfit my subordinates from Black Rabbit Pavilion had painstakingly prepared, I felt even my heroic spirit swelling inside me.

When exactly did men in black start appearing in the martial world?

Just looking at the outfit gave me the confidence to be even more evil than usual.

Once you’re standing under the moonlight, arms folded, people start to wonder: is this guy just a loser in black, or is he the secret mastermind, the leader of a mysterious force destined to shake the martial world?

I stripped off my normal clothes and donned pitch-black shoes, black pants, a black top, and tied a shadowy belt around my waist. Finally, I threw on a long black robe to make it clear I’m no pushover, and popped the collar slightly at my neck.

In the whole history of Jianghu, has there ever been a more perfect man in black?

And the fact that wearing this outfit actually makes you stand out more in well-lit places proves it—men in black are, nine times out of ten, just attention seekers.

If I were raiding some pitch-dark backwater village that couldn’t afford lamp oil, it might be effective. But any half-decent sect keeps their compound lit up like daylight all night long.

And you're gonna show up dressed in black?

Let’s not even go there...

I tucked a prized Flash Dagger and a Fire Scorcher Pellet inside my inner robe and strapped Fang of the Black Rabbit—the perfect pairing for a man in black—at my waist.

Target: the Sword-Breaking Society’s headquarters.

From here on: speak little, walk light.

Eyes cold, chest proud.

While waiting for Nam Garak to finish changing into his own black outfit next door, I sat cross-legged and entered meditation.

Meditation is usually for clearing the mind, calming the heart, contemplating the Dao, and pondering the meaning of life. Or why beautiful women don’t like me.

But my thoughts were tangled up with—

Pork bone stew, Dugang Liquor, kaah, those bastards, those infuriating bastards, Ilwido River Crossing…

‘Chaos. Utter chaos.’

There’s a man who grows more distracted the deeper he meditates?

That man is me.

I focused again, stilled my mind, pushed away distractions, observed the depths of my soul—and accidentally dozed off.

A glorious nap.

…

…

…

Knock knock.

“Come in.”

With eyes heavy from sleep, I looked up and was slightly startled by the man in black entering the room.

‘Oh, it’s Nam Garak.’

Nam Garak looked at my face and said,

“Master, you must’ve been tired.”

“No way.”

I was holding back a yawn so hard my nostrils had flared. Still, I inspected his outfit.

“Perfect. The Namyeong Society’s preparedness is no joke.”

Nam Garak smiled proudly, arms folded, clearly pleased with my praise.

“Hoohoohoo, the Black Rabbit Pavilion is no slouch either.”

“We’re called Black Rabbit Pavilion. Our name alone proves we were ready for this. Let’s mask up.”

We both took out our gear.

Nam Garak had brought the old-fashioned kind that covers the entire head.

I, on the other hand, used a sleek black triangular mask that wrapped from under my eyes to the back of my head. It preserved my hairstyle and made me look far more stylish.

Nam Garak’s clunky black hood, though… let's just not talk about it.

He looked like one of those bottom-rung assassins, the kind you laugh at. Like a grimy black egg.

I gave him a cold, pitying stare.

“How tacky…”

“…!”

Nam Garak asked,

“Don’t you have another? Let me borrow one.”

After a moment’s thought, I pulled a spare from my bag.

‘Thank you, meticulous Chief Byeok.’

Nam Garak ripped off his hood and tossed it away. As he tied on the mask I handed him, he said,

“Lucky me.”

“Let’s go.”

“What’s the plan? Out the window, across the rooftops?”

I shook my head.

“We’re taking the stairs.”

“Won’t everyone stare?”

I exhaled sharply and replied,

“Embrace it. Endure it. Thrive on it.”

That’s the life of an attention seeker.

“Mm.”

“Anyway, if we strut around with that intense glare, everyone will assume we’re from the Sword-Breaking Society. It’s not like they don’t have guys dressed in black.”

“That’s true.”

We stomped down the stairs, settled the room fee, and asked the innkeeper to dispose of the clothes we’d left behind. The man, clearly terrified, nodded profusely—meaning, there would be no trace of us left in the room.

As we stepped outside, I said to Nam Garak,

“Did you see that? That’s the charm, the power, the strength of a man in black. In the martial world, it’s only proper for men to tremble the moment they see one.”

“Don’t say jokes in that serious tone. It’s confusing.”

The moment we stepped out, I looked up at the moon hanging in the night sky.

“Wow, the moonlight…”

Nam Garak gazed at the moon too and breathed out in awe.

“Wow. It’s bright.”

“Nice.”

“Right?”

“It’s a perfect night. The air’s dry. If it had rained, the whole plan would’ve gone to hell, but the sky’s working with us tonight.”

“Lucky us.”

Nam Garak and I intentionally walked into the most crowded part of the city, moving slowly and confidently. The moment people saw us, the crowd split open to let us pass.

Majestic, dignified—undeniable presence.

I even cracked my knuckles loudly as I walked.

“They’re bound to have tight security.”

“Of course.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Hey, Heuk-Nam. Fire is great, but even if we don’t burn the place down, that’s fine.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“I mean, all we need to do is piss them off. Look closely at the busy streets, the alleys. Get a feel for them.”

It’d be useful to lure the Sword-Breaking Society’s forces out and use the crowded streets for cover during our escape. Anyway, Nam Garak was the Namyeong Society’s top master—when it came to light footwork, he was second only to me. Maybe only Hongshin, who specialized in speed, could match his pace.

Soon, we reached the area where the main compound of the Sword-Breaking Society loomed in the dark. Fire burned in our hearts.

“So they dared to send assassins after me, huh. I wonder if the Society Master is up there, in that tallest building?”

“Most likely.”

“I’ll tear it down.”

It was an extravagant mansion—like something a merchant lord would own. The main building rose three stories high, and just at a glance, I could count over thirty black-tiled roofs. Above the massive gate hung a wooden plaque: Kang Family Manor.

“So the master’s surname is Kang?”

“Yeah.”

From the look of that old plaque, it seemed the Sword-Breaking Society was a peculiar kind of dark sect—a rich man who turned to the underworld to make even more money. As I studied the layout, I spoke to Nam Garak.

“Let’s move freely. But I will destroy that main building. No question.”

“My blood’s heating up.”

We hadn’t brought many subordinates because there simply weren’t enough high-level warriors who could smash the place and get away clean.

The virtue of a man in black is to provoke, not to get captured and have your mask torn off.

“I’ll go first.”

I walked toward the front gate with my arms crossed, then uncrossed them because they were going numb. The moment I felt my temper flare, I leapt into the air and slammed a flying kick into the Kang Family Manor plaque.

KA-BOOOOOM!

From behind, Nam Garak’s flustered voice rang out.

“Seriously…?”

I shoved internal energy into my fists and punched the gate straight on.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Nam Garak rushed up in a panic, raising his voice.

“Then why the hell did we even wear black?”

“Clothes merely assist the madness. I am who I am.”

“Sigh…”

I looked past the shattered gate and thought: I might be an expert on men in black, but my actions say otherwise.

“A real man walks through the front door.”

The interior of the Sword-Breaking Society exploded into chaos. Shouts, doors slamming open, even dogs barking.

The barking grated on my nerves, so I shouted,

“Can someone shut those damn dogs up?! You mutts!”

Nam Garak laughed at the ridiculous outburst and vanished somewhere. I soared up onto the rooftops and activated my light footwork. Inside, a swarm of black-clad warriors poured out like a flood.

Even so, I paused to admire the moonlight again.

“Damn… that moonlight.”

I nearly got lost in it—snapped out of it just in time, leapt back into the air, and drew Fang of the Black Rabbit. I flicked moonlight off its blade a few times, then realized there was nothing to slash yet, so I sheathed it again and continued forward.

The rooftops grew higher and higher. I vaulted from one to the next, again and again, until finally I reached the roof of the tallest building in the Kang Family Manor.

There, I stood—arms crossed—gazing down at the full view of the Sword-Breaking Society. No joke, I could feel my chest swelling with pride.

“Hoohoohoo… Hoohoo… Hoo-hahahahaha!”

With arms spread wide, I declared my challenge to the Sword-Breaking Society.

“COME AT ME!”

As expected, the bastards—probably preparing some kind of raid—rushed toward me in full black getup, stepping over walls and rooftops. Idiots. Wearing matching outfits like that—how do they expect to tell friend from foe?

In any case, all the attention was on me—perfect. Nam Garak could go light the fires while I held the spotlight.

Just then, I remembered how little sleep I’d had lately and looked down in anger at the roof beneath my feet. That bastard of a Society Master was probably sleeping well, eating well, shitting well—all while I’d been suffering.

My rage surged.

As fellow men in black advanced on my position, I wrapped Flame Incense Energy around both hands.

Fwhooooosh!

Thanks to storing up Decapitating Fire power, the flames flaring from my hands burned fiercer than ever.

Technically, it was the Dual Flame Grand Technique—performed with both hands.

But right now, I was a man in black.

I raised my burning hands above my head, then slammed them down into the rooftop—like summoning a descending Black Flame Dragon.

KWAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNG!