It wasn’t loyalty.
Bu Eunseol, alone and unaccompanied, stepped into the brutal arena of the Ten Demon Tournament.
Cutting through the blood-soaked battlefield where flesh and blood clashed, the place he ultimately chose was Nangyang.
Not as a martial sect to learn martial arts, but as a haven to return to.
“Hahaha.” Dan Cheong burst into laughter, as if he had no choice but to find it amusing.
To the other disciples, Nangyang was a place to pursue the ultimate path of martial prowess, but for Bu Eunseol, it was simply a home to come back to.
‘Truly, there could be no better disciple for our sect.’ To pursue supreme strength regardless of danger—was that not the foremost virtue required of Nangyang’s disciples?
Bu Eunseol was, more than anyone, a disciple perfectly suited to Nangyang.
“Very well. However, your stay with the Nine Deaths Squad will be limited to one year.” Dan Cheong spoke calmly. “If, within that year, you reach a level of satisfaction, you may leave the Nine Deaths Squad and return.”
“Understood.”
“Then I’ll formally request Majeon to have you enlisted as a member of the Nine Deaths Squad.” At Dan Cheong’s approval, Bu Eunseol bowed deeply.
“Thank you for your permission.”
“There’s one problem, though.”
“What might that be?”
“Your appearance stands out too much.”
“Me, sir?”
Though he himself was unaware, Bu Eunseol’s appearance was so striking that the word “handsome” fell short. Eyes like flowers forged in ice, a sharp nose, pale skin. A delicate yet sturdy frame…
Above all, he exuded a melancholic and solitary aura that was unforgettable once seen.
“Ahem.”
Dan Cheong, who had been staring intently at Bu Eunseol, cleared his throat and said, “You are currently the most celebrated rising star in the Ten Demon Warriors. But if you carry out Nine Deaths Squad missions with such a memorable face, your identity will be exposed in no time.”
He took out a worn manual from his robes and placed it on the table.
On the cover of the old book were the words Face and Bone Shifting Art.
“Even a human skin mask cannot fool a master with keen perception. But if you master this manual, you’ll be able to alter your appearance naturally.” Dan Cheong let out a deep sigh. “Though it will consume ten percent of your inner energy while you maintain it.”
“Thank you.” As Bu Eunseol took the manual, Dan Cheong picked up the pile of documents again.
“Go. I’ll make arrangements so you can leave whenever you’re ready.”
***
Dongting Lake.
Though called a lake, it was, in truth, a river. It only appeared like a lake because the waters of the Yangtze flowed in and out.
Such regions, where the distinction between river and lake blurred, were called Kangho – Rivers and Lakes – the very origin of the term used to describe the martial world.
“Whoa, whoa.” As the carriage traveling along the official road slowed to a stop, the sound of horses snorting echoed.
“We’ve arrived in Yueyang.” With the coachman’s voice, the carriage door opened, and a tall figure slowly emerged.
Had he just reached his twenties? A strikingly handsome young man, over six feet tall with long hair flowing freely, stepped forward.
It was Bu Eunseol, now officially a member of the Nine Deaths Squad.
Having left Nangyang, he had joined the secret branch of Majeon’s Nine Deaths Squad in Yueyang.
The area around Dongting Lake in Hunan Province was a borderland between the righteous and evil sects, a place where figures from both sides clashed endlessly over influence. In other words, it was a buffer zone where neither Majeon nor the Martial Alliance held sway.
Bu Eunseol intended to hone his martial skills while carrying out missions in this contentious region where righteous and evil factions vied for power.
Crack.
The sound of his neck popping rang out as he tilted his head.
‘Maybe I should’ve just used qinggong to get here.’ Martial artists typically employed movement techniques for long journeys.
With inner energy surpassing a single cycle (sixty years’ worth), Bu Eunseol could easily cover a thousand li in a day without strain. However, to read the manuals given by Dan Cheong and Wang Geol, he had chosen to travel leisurely by carriage.
‘As expected… there are many martial artists here.’ Entering the city, Bu Eunseol’s eyes gleamed as he observed the bustling market street lined with taverns.
Half the passersby were armed with weapons, their eyes sharp and alert.
The windows of taverns overlooking Dongting Lake’s scenery were packed with people who appeared to be martial artists.
“Young master, why not visit our tavern? The view is exceptional!” A young boy, likely a waiter, approached Bu Eunseol with a cheerful pitch. “Our Jinghalu is renowned for the best cuisine in the area.”
Though he looked too young to be a waiter, his speech and mannerisms were remarkably polished.
Bu Eunseol, meeting the boy’s bright eyes, shook his head.
“No, thank you.”
“Come on, just give it a try! We have thirty-year-old premium yellow wine, a local specialty. And our waiters don’t even ask for tips!” At that, Bu Eunseol frowned.
A place serving decades-old wine where waiters didn’t expect tips? That was no ordinary tavern—it was a high-class establishment frequented by the wealthy and powerful.
“I’m not interested.” Bu Eunseol waved his hand in refusal, and the waiter bowed with a hint of disappointment.
“Then please visit Jinghalu next time, young master!” Watching the boy bow and turn away, Bu Eunseol felt a sudden sense of curiosity.
‘Come to think of it, a waiter soliciting me like that?’
It was unthinkable during his time as a mortician, doing menial work. Back then, he had worn tattered clothes reeking of filth…
‘Is it the clothes?’ Currently, Bu Eunseol was dressed in authentic garments and a long robe crafted by the Gongsun family of the capital.
To conceal his identity, he had dressed as a wandering noble traveling near Dongting Lake.
‘Back then, I had no need for fine clothes. They’d just get soaked in a stench after a day.’ With a bitter smile, Bu Eunseol stopped in front of a stall displaying various bronze mirrors.
‘It’s not just the clothes.’ The reflection in the mirror was no longer that of a scrawny, frail boy.
Having reached his twenties, his physique was now imposing, exuding an air of refined elegance—a transformation into a strikingly handsome young man.
“A scion of a noble family?”
“His looks are remarkable. He could star in an opera.”
Whispers from passersby reached his ears as he walked through the market. Slowly leaving the bustling street behind, Bu Eunseol shook his head lightly.
‘I really need to change my appearance.’ During the carriage ride, he had fully mastered the Face and Bone Shifting Art given by Dan Cheong. ‘It’s better not to reveal my true appearance to the branch members either.’
After all, they were all part of Majeon. There was no need to reveal his true affiliation or face.
With his thoughts settled, Bu Eunseol summoned his inner energy and activated the Face and Bone Shifting Art.
Crack. The sound of bones shifting echoed from his jaw and temples as his skin rippled like water.
Despite its name, Face and Bone Shifting Art didn’t allow for freely reshaping the face or skeleton. A person’s appearance could change drastically with just slight adjustments to the eyes or facial structure. In essence, the technique subtly shifted the muscles and bones of the face to create an entirely different look.
Pop, pop.
Bu Eunseol lifted his head after repositioning his facial muscles and bones. The dazzlingly handsome young man was gone, replaced by an ordinary-looking youth.
By slightly altering his nose, eyes, and jawline, he had transformed his appearance so naturally that even masters with sharp perception would notice nothing amiss.
“Time to get moving.” Leaving the market street, Bu Eunseol walked down a winding alley and stopped before a dilapidated building.
Haehyeon Old Bookstore.
A faded sign, about six feet long, hung precariously above the building. The worn-out lettering suggested the bookstore had a long history.
Creak. Pushing open the door with a sound like a ghostly wail, the interior of the bookstore came into view.
‘A fine place.’ Bu Eunseol nodded as he surveyed the grand and spacious interior, reminiscent of Shaolin’s Sutra Repository.
To preserve books properly, light and humidity must be carefully controlled. The bookstore had only dim oil lamps, just bright enough to read by, and high-quality charcoal and salt were placed throughout to manage moisture.
“Welcome.” A middle-aged man seated at a desk rose as Bu Eunseol approached through the tightly packed bookshelves.
Dressed in a blue robe, the man smiled warmly and said, “Looking for something specific?”
He was Shang Liang, the owner of Haehyeon Old Bookstore and the leader of the Yueyang branch of the Nine Deaths Squad.
“I’m here to sell a book.” Bu Eunseol replied in a casual tone.
Before coming here, Wang Geol had briefed him on how the Nine Deaths Squad branch operated and how to make contact.
“What kind of book?” At Shang Liang’s question, Bu Eunseol pulled out a book labeled Spring and Autumn from his robes.
“Hmm.” Shang Liang’s eyes narrowed as he took the book.
‘Too young.’ Though Bu Eunseol had concealed his true appearance with Face and Bone Shifting Art, Shang Liang discerned that he was a young man barely past his twenties.
‘Doesn’t seem skilled either.’ Looking at Bu Eunseol’s altered, ordinary face, Shang Liang inwardly clicked his tongue.
Nine Deaths Squad members were typically fearless and seasoned in the ways of the martial world. As such, most members sent from various sects were in their thirties, or at the youngest, late twenties.
‘Well, it’s not my concern.’ After all, Shang Liang was part of Majeon.
He didn’t know which sect this young man came from. There was no need for introductions or pleasantries. As they were all ghosts who officially didn’t exist, there was no camaraderie—nor would they bat an eye if one of them died.
“Can you buy it?” Bu Eunseol’s words snapped Shang Liang out of his thoughts.
The book was in excellent condition, but inside the title Spring and Autumn, a red spider was drawn—the mark of the Nine Deaths Squad.
“Tch, the book’s damaged.” Shang Liang’s eyes glinted briefly before he clicked his tongue. “This won’t fetch full price. How much are you looking to sell it for?”
“Not for money. I’d like to trade it for another book, if that’s alright.”
“Haha, you must really love books. Ma Yun.” At the middle-aged man’s words, a young man who had been organizing something in the back emerged.
“You called?”
“Show him the old books in the back.”
“Understood.” Following Ma Yun’s lead, Bu Eunseol walked through the bookshelves and eventually entered a storage room filled with old books.
Gugung.
As they entered, the entrance was sealed with a heavy iron door. Ma Yun gestured toward the bookshelves and spoke in a low voice.
“I’m Ma Yun, the contact for the Yueyang branch.” He pulled out a letter, examined it, and nodded. “Nine Deaths Squad members are referred to by code names for convenience. You’ll be Number Eighteen. Not that we’ll be calling each other by name much.”
There was no trace of emotion in Ma Yun’s expression or voice.
“Open a book, and you’ll find the missions. Choose one, and I’ll explain the details.” His earlier servile demeanor was gone, replaced by the air of a seasoned martial artist.
Even as a mere contact, he was a member of Majeon—not someone to be underestimated.
There were only six books on the shelf, all recently made and in pristine condition.
Swish.
Opening a book titled Taiping Broad Records, Bu Eunseol found unexpected text on the first page.
—Jeongho, Third Attempt. 500 taels of silver.
Steal the golden bronze incense burner from the residence of Gao Chishan, the Three-Legged Wild Wolf, at Jinmun Mountain.
“It’s a mission to infiltrate Jinmun Gate at Jinmun Mountain and steal the golden bronze incense burner in Gao Chishan’s possession,” Ma Yun began explaining. “However, I advise against choosing it unless you’re familiar with the terrain around Jinmun Mountain. There have already been several failed attempts…”
He explained in a steady, mechanical tone.
“What does ‘Third Attempt’ mean?” Bu Eunseol asked.
“It refers to the number of times the mission has been assigned. Either someone failed it three times, or it’s been unclaimed for so long that it’s been issued three times.”
‘Hmm.’ Swallowing a thoughtful sound, Bu Eunseol examined the other books. The remaining four detailed missions involving banditry, treasure theft, or sowing discord through intelligence.
Each time he opened a book, Ma Yun provided a mechanical explanation.
‘These are meaningless.’ Frowning, Bu Eunseol reached for another book.
‘The last one, huh.’ He opened a book labeled Book of Odes.
—Byeongho, Ninth Attempt. 3,000 taels of silver.
Secretly eliminate Seok Jeong, the deputy leader of the Soul-Snatching Hall of the Blood Sound Sect.
“No need to look at that one,” Ma Yun said, exhaling heavily and shaking his head.
“That’s a Byeongho mission.”
“Is it off-limits?”
“Can’t you tell?” Ma Yun’s lips curled slightly.
“Gap, Eul, Byeong, Jeong… Missions ranked Byeongho and above are typically taken by seasoned members with at least three years of experience.”
Pointing to the Book of Odes, he continued, “Seok Jeong is a master who’s made a name for himself in the martial world for over a decade. He’s faced countless assassins, so a surprise attack won’t work. It’s not for nothing that it’s worth 3,000 taels…”
Ma Yun trailed off.
A faint smile had appeared at the corner of Bu Eunseol’s lips.
