The Former Supreme Master [Novel] Chapter 24

“Cheon Yangho is dead.”

At Baek Socheon’s words, Lim Chung and Beon Saeng blinked, assuming their ears had deceived them.

“Who is dead?”

“Cheon the Venomous Viper is dead.”

Hearing the news split in two caused them to miss the initial shock. Beon Saeng, his face still blank, asked.

“How?”

“I butchered him.”

A suffocating silence hung in the air for a brief moment before the reality of the situation crashed into their minds.

“Big Brother, you slaughtered Cheon Yangho…!”

Just as he was about to scream in sheer terror, Beon Saeng clamped a hand over his own mouth.

“Why did you kill him?”

“He crept in last night to assassinate me. Said Wang Gon lined his pockets with blood silver to take my head.”

“Oh my god!”

It was a truth that defied belief. They knew he was a corrupt martial artist whose soul reeked of rot, but they never dreamed he would stoop so low as to accept a blood contract to slaughter a fellow brother of the blade. Despite his filth, he was still a Unit Captain of the Murim Alliance.

Lowering his voice to a terrified whisper, Beon Saeng asked.

“What did you do with the corpse?”

“He’s rotting right beneath your feet.”

“Gasp!”

Both men instinctively slammed their gazes to the dirt below.

“He’s buried side-by-side with Heuksu.”

The surreal weight of the situation refused to settle. To think the very Cheon Yangho, who seemed capable of bursting through the door to infuriate them at any second, was now a rotting corpse buried in the dirt?

“What will you do now?”

“What do you mean? I wait. Cheon Yangho’s demise will undoubtedly stir the waters. They will either dispatch another blade for my throat, or they will slither over to bribe me. Whichever path they choose, I simply wait.”

“What should we do?”

“Do your jobs and wait. Soon enough, there will be blood on both of your hands.”

Thinking on it, Wang Gon’s faction weren’t the only ones marching their way.

The moment Cheon Yangho’s disappearance surfaced, the Zhejiang Division would erupt into sheer chaos. The absolute authority of their ranks had vanished into thin air.

The Division would undoubtedly dispatch hounds to hunt for the truth. Entertaining those hounds would fall squarely onto Lim Chung’s shoulders.

Staring down at the earth beneath his boots, a chilling thought crawled into Lim Chung’s mind.

‘Will another corpse soon find its grave beneath this dirt?’

***

“What? Are you telling me Cheon Yangho vanished?”

The news of yet another disappearance struck Wang Gon like a physical blow.

“He hasn’t reported to the Alliance, nor is he anywhere in his quarters.”

Wang Woo’s report twisted Wang Gon’s face into a mask of pure dread. He had unleashed the hound to slaughter Baek Socheon, yet the hound had vanished without a trace; there was only one absolute answer.

“That bastard slaughtered him.”

Heuksu had evaporated in the exact same manner, making the grim truth horrifyingly clear.

“Could he have absconded with the ten thousand taels?”

“Ten thousand taels is a vast fortune, but it is not enough to make Cheon Yangho abandon his entire life. The bastard undeniably butchered him!”

“But Cheon Yangho must have marched into that fight fully prepared for slaughter.”

“Which only proves just how monstrous an adversary he is.”

Reflecting on the sheer gravity of the situation, he had hurled the colossal fortune of twenty thousand taels just to purchase this man’s demise. When had he ever faced an adversary of such terrifying caliber?

“Should we not report this to the Main Headquarters?”

Wang Gon’s face contorted into a fierce scowl. His son remained utterly blind to the catastrophic peril they now faced.

He had lost Heuksu, and now he had lost Cheon Yangho—the very man he had painstakingly bought and leashed with years of steady bribes.

The ten thousand taels hurled at Cheon Yangho bled from his personal vault, but every bribe leading up to this point had been siphoned directly from the Divine Fire Gang’s coffers. Heuksu, too, was a master martial artist bestowed upon him by the Gang.

In a horrifyingly brief span, he had squandered two of the Gang’s vital assets and dragged their reputation through the mud by suffering arrest at a miserable Murim Alliance branch.

The Gang would undoubtedly demand a pound of flesh for this colossal failure.

Would he be stripped of his throne as Clan Head?

It was a toss-up.

His only frail shield was the Ironworks Enterprise currently forging ahead in Munseong. Severing the head of operations now would violently derail their schedule. Yet, there was zero guarantee this shield would hold against the Gang Leader’s wrath.

Even if he miraculously clung to his throne, this catastrophe would severely shatter any hope of future ascension.

‘I cannot let it end like this!’

He had to flip this suffocating nightmare on its head, whatever the cost.

Right then, a spark of inspiration ignited in Wang Woo’s mind.

“If we beg *those* men to—”

“Shh.”

Wang Gon’s expression hardened like stone.

“Do not carelessly drag their name into the light!”

“Forgive me.”

The shadows they dared not speak of were the Seven Swords Association.

“Furthermore, even if we hungered for their blades, we lack the means to commission them.”

“No matter how exorbitant their blood price, surely we can bear the weight?”

“It is not a matter of silver.”

“Excuse me? Then what is the obstacle?”

“The Seven Swords Association accepts blood contracts from the Divine Fire Gang exclusively through a man known as Master Jong.”

This phantom, known only as Master Jong, was a master martial artist whose loyalty commanded the absolute trust of the Gang Leader. He acted as the silent hand executing the Gang’s darkest wills, completely monopolizing all commissions tied to the Seven Swords Association.

“Is it because the Association distrusts our Gang?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“Excuse me?”

“The Gang Leader is the one who refuses to trust the assassins affiliated with the Association. He undoubtedly forged a blood pact with the Leader of the Seven Swords Association: *’Accept commissions linked to us exclusively through Master Jong. If anyone else dares to invoke the Gang’s name for a blood contract, bring their head to me.’* By weaving this absolute rule, he eradicated any possibility of perishing by their hidden blades, did he not?”

“Ah!”

Wang Woo was struck anew by just how terrifyingly paranoid and brilliant the Gang Leader truly was. A genius who ensured the greatest assassin syndicate in Zhejiang Province could never turn their blades against his throat.

“If we cannot even borrow their shadows… what do we do now?”

The only masters left at their disposal were bottom-feeders whose martial prowess fell far short of Heuksu’s. Unleashing them would only pile more corpses at Baek Socheon’s feet, fanning the flames of an already catastrophic disaster.

“I must meet Baek Socheon in person.”

“You cannot, Father. It is too dangerous. The man slaughtered Heuksu and Cheon Yangho.”

“Even so, I must face him. When a tiger prowls just beyond the front gates, do you truly believe cowering inside and clutching the doorknob guarantees your survival?”

“And when you meet him?”

“I will buy his loyalty and forge him into our sword.”

The sheer absurdity of the plan left Wang Woo staring blankly.

“He slaughtered Heuksu and butchered Cheon Yangho, and you intend to forge him into an ally?”

“In this brutal world, there are no eternal enemies, nor are there eternal allies.”

“How will you buy his soul?”

“With silver.”

It was the weapon Wang Gon wielded best, the one he trusted above all else.

“Will a monster like him truly bite?”

“When a man spits on silver, there is only one absolute truth: the pile simply wasn’t high enough.”

His unshakable confidence was anchored in his fathomless vault. Long before he swore loyalty to the Divine Fire Gang, he was born with a silver spoon jammed down his throat.

“I am vehemently against this.”

Wang Woo spoke with composed restraint, but within his soul, a desperate roar echoed.

‘Father! No! You absolutely cannot bleed that silver! That is the very inheritance destined for my hands!’

Wang Woo had to fiercely protect his father’s vault. To hurl this precious fortune at a filthy stray they barely knew? His father claimed that as long as they gripped power, silver would flow endlessly. But what if they lost their grip on power? They would be stripped to the bone, reduced to pathetic beggars clutching shattered bowls.

“Father! Would it not be wiser to confess everything to the Gang Leader?”

“If I do, I will be stripped of my throne as Clan Head.”

“Even if you are cast down, is it not better to bide your time and plot a comeback? I fear you will bleed our silver dry and harvest absolutely nothing in return.”

“You foolish whelp! Do you truly believe surviving a fall from the Clan Head’s throne grants the luxury of a comeback? The Gang Leader will order his hounds to dissect my past, tearing through my history to see if I ever skimmed a single tael of silver. Are you confident you could emerge from such an interrogation without a speck of dust on your soul?”

Reflecting on their corrupt reign in Munseong, they wouldn’t just find dust; they would choke on the filth.

“You still do not grasp the true nature of the Gang Leader. You fail to see the terrifying depths of his cold, calculating cruelty. Furthermore, I hold far too many of the Divine Fire Gang’s darkest secrets in my head. The moment I am stripped of my throne, or demoted even a single rank, they will butcher me, and they will butcher you right alongside me.”

Sensing the absolute, bone-chilling sincerity in his father’s words, the true gravity of the peril finally crushed the breath from Wang Woo’s lungs.

“However, if I can successfully buy Baek Socheon’s loyalty, I can wash away every sin I have committed thus far. I will simply spin the narrative that our losses were an inevitable, necessary sacrifice to reel a monster capable of slaughtering Heuksu and Cheon Yangho into our ranks.”

“Will the Gang Leader truly swallow that?”

With a desperate blend of hope and conviction, Wang Gon answered.

“He is a man who measures worth purely through absolute capability; he will undoubtedly accept it.”

***

Baek Socheon sat drinking in a bustling tavern nestled within the market streets.

Just as the liquor bottle neared its end, a figure cloaked in a bamboo hat approached his table.

“May I share this table?”

It was none other than Wang Gon.

“You possess towering audacity. Do you not fear suffering another brutal beating for seeking me out like this?”

Wang Gon cast a calculating gaze over the crowded tavern.

“If you strike me in a place crawling with this many eyes, even you won’t escape the fallout.”

“Fair enough. A tavern is a place for drinking, not bleeding.”

Baek Socheon poured him a cup, and Wang Gon drank it down.

“I bring tidings. I have decided to withdraw the charges of excessive force against you.”

“Your hypocrisy knows no bounds. Coming from anyone else it would be laughable, but from you? Do you truly possess the delusion that you were a victim of excessive force?”

“No. I simply spoke a passing thought. Let us bury that subject. So, I hear you were once a terrifying force within the Iron Sword Corps?”

“I was.”

“Truly magnificent. Is it not the absolute dream of every martial artist to march among the ranks of the Iron Sword Corps?”

“Do not insult the dreams of martial artists by aiming so low.”

Wang Gon drained another cup.

‘Arrogant bastard. You refuse to let a single word slide without twisting the knife. But no matter how high you elevate yourself, I will prove you are cut from the same filthy cloth as the rest of us.’

Masking his seething irritation, Wang Gon cast his bait.

“Warrior Baek. Whispers say Unit Captain Cheon, who descended from the Division, has gone missing. A profoundly tragic turn of events.”

He sharply monitored Baek Socheon’s reaction.

“Is it not premature to call it a tragedy? He might have stumbled upon a mountain of silver and embarked on a distant journey.”

“A mountain of silver?”

“It seems that honorable Unit Captain Cheon enjoyed a rather lucrative side income to line his pockets alongside his monthly Alliance stipend.”

Wang Gon’s suspicion hardened into absolute certainty.

‘This bastard undoubtedly slaughtered him.’

Furthermore, Baek Socheon made zero effort to conceal the blood on his hands, brazenly dragging the silver into the light.

“True enough. The Central Plains hold countless sights worth seeing. How about it? Do you not harbor a yearning to wander such places yourself?”

“I was not blessed with a destiny that affords such leisure.”

“Destiny is something you forge with your own two hands.”

Wang Gon drew a thick envelope from his robes and tossed it onto the table.

“What is this?”

“Your new destiny.”

Baek Socheon verified the fortune hidden within.

Fifty Central Plains Bank notes, each bearing the staggering denomination of one thousand taels.

Fifty thousand taels.

A fortune demanding over forty years of bone-grinding servitude from an ordinary Unit Captain. Yet the temptation did not end there.

“Pledge your blade to me, and I will shower you with a regular stipend of three thousand taels every year. March under my banner, and you will find countless opportunities to gorge on additional wealth far beyond that.”

“Hmm.”

As Baek Socheon feigned hesitation, Wang Gon moved to seal the pact.

“Accept this.”

Wang Gon pushed forward the wooden box he had brought.

Flipping the lid, Baek Socheon found the Hundred-Year Fleeceflower resting inside—the very artifact he had intended to bribe Lim Chung with earlier.

“It is a token meant to wash away the sins of the past and forge a prosperous path forward.”

Baek Socheon nodded in agreement.

“Very well.”

“As expected! You possess refreshing decisive clarity. Excellent, let us share a drink.”

Wang Gon raised his cup, and Baek Socheon met it with a toast.

“I offer this merely as a precaution, but if you betray this vow, you will make an enemy of the entire Divine Fire Gang.”

“That day will never come. Accepting a bribe within the Murim Alliance is a grave sin. Given the sheer weight of this fortune, I would rot in the underground dungeon for the rest of my miserable life… Just ensure you don’t swallow your own promises. Don’t claim you’ll pay me three thousand taels only to cry poor and hand me two thousand.”

“How could I ever do such a thing? Hahaha.”

Drunk on the euphoria of a successful negotiation, Wang Gon erupted into joyous laughter.

“Having a towering pillar like you by my side fills my heart with joy.”

He wore a radiant smile, but his true thoughts were steeped in venom.

‘The moment I weather this catastrophic storm, I will rip your throat out first.’

He harbored absolutely zero intention of keeping Baek Socheon around. Furthermore, in this very moment, he was thoroughly intoxicated by the absolute, crushing power of silver.

‘No matter how arrogantly you strutted, you couldn’t resist swallowing fifty thousand taels, could you? A fortune your pathetic eyes have never even glimpsed in your entire miserable life, right? You filthy, beggar-like wretch.’

Yet, this was a colossal, laughable delusion on Wang Gon’s part.

If he truly grasped the terrifying prestige of Baek Socheon’s rank within the Three Great Banks of the Central Plains, he would have collapsed in sheer horror.

Baek Socheon held the absolute pinnacle rank of Wealth and Honor—a mythical status bestowed solely upon titans harboring deposits exceeding one hundred thousand taels. To make matters worse, he possessed this god-like rank across all three major banks.

The fortune Baek Socheon had amassed over the past twenty years defied mortal comprehension.

He had meticulously counted up to five hundred thousand taels before simply abandoning the effort; he genuinely had no idea how vast his ocean of wealth had become. It was a monstrous accumulation of his Alliance salary, hazard pay for dancing with death, and the astronomical bounties placed on the heads of the Black Heaven Alliance’s most vital masters.

“Now, since you have pledged your loyalty to me, I have one question.”

“Speak.”

“What fate befell Cheon Yangho?”

“You purchased my blade, but you did not purchase my past, did you? Contact me quietly when you require my services.”

Baek Socheon rose from his seat and walked away.

Naturally, the gaze drilling into his back was anything but kind.

‘Arrogant bastard!’

He desperately hungered to tear him limb from limb, but the monster had just swallowed fifty thousand taels of his lifeblood. Striking him now would yield nothing but rot. He would drain every last drop of utility from the bastard before butchering him. Reclaiming his silver from his cold, dead hands would be the ultimate victory.

Regardless, he had succeeded in forging Baek Socheon into his sword.

All that remained was bending the Divine Fire Gang to his narrative.

He fully intended to spin a tale of absolute triumph—arguing that securing a beast far more monstrous than Heuksu and Cheon Yangho combined was a feat worthy of profound reward, not punishment.

His sole remaining dread was the identity of the hound the Divine Fire Gang would unleash to investigate this mess.

‘I pray they send a fool I can easily control.’