Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Gate Leaders Conference

As dusk settled, divine wind pavilion did not light the red lanterns that marked the start of business for the night.

A few would-be patrons approached, only to turn away. It wasn’t because the doors were firmly shut.

Instead, martial artists armed with weapons were standing guard all around, making the atmosphere impenetrable.

The disciples of underworld sects had gathered in one place.

They all wore fiercely hostile faces—even when making eye contact with their own group.

The fact that they belonged to the same Musan Group seemed meaningless; they glared at each other as if ready to pounce.

Right now, the struggle for succession to the Musan Group leader’s seat within the Kaifeng underworld was fierce.

Hostilities started from the leaders themselves, so there was no way their subordinates would look kindly upon one another.

Their sharp eyes clashed in the air, as if they might draw swords at any moment.

In that threatening atmosphere, passersby made wide detours, and no one dared approach the vicinity of Divine Wind Pavilion.

But even with tension akin to walking on thin ice, actual bloodshed did not break out.

This was due to Musan Group’s absolute rule prohibiting internecine combat.

It was said such conflict was like slicing away one’s own flesh.

Of course, they only refrained from open fights.

True to their underworld nature, all sorts of scheming and underhanded tricks were exchanged covertly.

The Musan Group’s leadership tolerated this, as long as everyone pretended to be clan in public.

Recently, this spirit of competition had even been encouraged.

’Damn it, what kind of bolt from the blue is this?’

Soo Il-san, observing the spectacle from the darkened third floor, swallowed dryly.

Sweat chilled his back at the ominous scene outside his window.

It had only been half a day since he sent letters to Black Hand Gate and Ghost Face Gate.

The newly arrived young Gate Leader had shattered rules and common sense without a second thought.

A letter that, tonight, they were to come to Divine Wind Pavilion immediately.

That high-handed summons naturally provoked a furious response from both sects.

What was happening now was a kind of show of force by the two sects.

Originally, the meeting was not supposed to be for another five days.

Each sect would have spent that time spying on the other, and preparing to show off their strength.

But their pride wounded by the abrupt summons, they rushed their subordinates over.

Now their men filled the area, eyeing each other with parted lips.

’What is he thinking?’

Soon, the Gate Leaders of Black Hand Gate and Ghost Face Gate would be arriving at Divine Wind Pavilion.

They would size up the new Iron-Blood Gate Leader to judge the future.

If he looked even slightly weak, they might try to swallow up the Iron-Blood Gate right away.

And they were all very capable of doing so.

’But...’

Soo Il-san recalled the new Gate Leader, unconsciously swallowing again.

Remembering that ice-cold voice, that oppressively heavy aura, he doubted the newcomer would surrender meekly.

Just then, the door behind him burst open.

”Th-the Black Hand Gate Leader has arrived!”

”What?”

Soo Il-san quickly moved. Hurrying up the stairs, he stopped in front of the Gate Leader’s office on the fifth floor.

”Gate Leader, it’s Soo Il-san.”

”Come in.”

Still, it was that cold voice. He cautiously entered and bowed his head.

They’d had their first conversation only earlier today.

Now, only a few hours later, bowing deeply already felt natural.

That was the kind of unexplainable authority that clung to the current Gate Leader, no matter his age.

”Gate Leader, Black Hand Gate Leader has arrived.”

”...”

But even at this report, the new Gate Leader did not respond. He just tilted his head slightly and looked at Soo Il-san.

’Damn, what is he thinking?’

The new Gate Leader had introduced himself as Dong-ryong. He was shockingly handsome—a true peerless young master.

Yet his behavior was the opposite; in every detail, the aura of a lawless underworld martial artist radiated from him.

Soo Il-san quietly wondered if he was a prodigy, spoiled by innate talent, who had ultimately been exiled from his clan.

”Black Hand Gate Leader has arrived?”

”Yes.”

”So what are you telling me?”

”Uh...?”

Soo Il-san replied blankly, thinking to himself how often he’d found himself repeating questions today.

”Just tell me when both are here. When they arrive, let them both come up at once.”

”N-no, but...”

Soo Il-san stammered. Steeling himself, he spoke up with urgency.

”G-Gate Leader. These are the heads of other sects. If we treat them like that...”

”I won’t say it twice.”

The Gate Leader’s chilling gaze turned to Soo Il-san.

He flinched and nodded without thinking.

”... Yes, understood.”

* * *

”What did you say?”

”My apologies, but the preparations for the meeting aren’t quite done yet. Could I trouble you to wait just a little longer?”

”You’re telling me I have to wait here?”

Soo Il-san kept bowing, sweat pouring down his head under the Black Hand Gate Leader Yang Gang’s murderous aura.

’Madman—does he think words alone can solve everything?’

Soo Il-san fumed silently with his head bowed.

Telling the Gate Leader exactly what the new Gate Leader had said was out of the question.

One word out of line and blood would be spilled.

Even with Musan Group’s rule, he couldn’t imagine anyone holding their anger at such an insult.

”My deepest apologies. As soon as everything’s ready, I’ll notify you right away. If you’d care for a cup of tea while you wait...”

”He calls a meeting and then makes me wait?”

Soo Il-san glanced sideways at the faintly smiling Yang Gang, his hands trembling.

That laid-back face disguised a notorious villain known throughout Kaifeng’s common folk.

He extorted usurious loans from the locals, ensuring they couldn’t ever repay them.

Men would be forced into a lifetime of labor, women sent away to the brothel.

Murder was, of course, a given.

”Your new master’s got guts. Must think very little of us.”

”Not at all. As you know, this all began just this morning... Please, be generous.”

”Such pretty words.”

Yang Gang smirked at Soo Il-san and rose from his seat. Casually, he started walking away.

”From your conduct, it’s clear the new Iron-Blood Gate Leader has no respect for me. To summon me and then make me wait—classic ploy. No need for me to play along.”

With that, he passed Soo Il-san and started upstairs to the fifth floor.

Soo Il-san, unable to stop him, hopped anxiously from foot to foot.

* * *

Jeong-un was gazing out the lattice window. The men crowding outside glared at passing townsfolk with threatening eyes.

’Vermin, all of them...’

He startled at his own thoughts. Had he ever used such a harsh word?

He was glad he hadn’t spoken it aloud—perhaps he was getting too lost in this fake identity.

The past few days in Kaifeng felt new and strange to Jeong-un.

Another side of the martial world he’d never experienced revealed itself here.

’There are places like this too, huh.’

Kaifeng was a massive metropolis.

Its huge population meant martial artists were everywhere, and all sorts of groups naturally existed.

But he’d never seen a place where sects with such unique structures intertwined so closely.

Up until now, martial artists he’d seen expanded their influence through the level of their martial skill.

Might makes right.

Whoever had the highest skills could do anything.

But the underworld sects here were different.

They oppressed the people to gather wealth, then offered most of that wealth as tribute to the authorities for protection.

Eventually, they became groups untouchable even by martial clans like the Yang Clan, and quickly grew.

’And yet the officials behind them—royals, even!’

Royalty in this land truly lived on a different plane.

All their bloodline basked in immense authority and privilege.

Not even martial artists dared lay hands on them lightly.

That’s why these wretches, despite pitiful martial skill, grew so arrogant.

’Not my concern, though.’

He, too, had received tasks from Heavenly Martial Hall.

Of course, there was also a secret mission to join the Shaolin Assembly, but this was an official task in itself.

The political entanglements here were not Jeong-un’s business.

Honestly, he had no desire to get involved. He simply wanted to do his job and be done.

As he thought this, he sensed three presences approaching in his sensitivity.

Three.

One was Soo Il-san from earlier in the day, the other two were unfamiliar.

”Iron-Blood Gate Leader, are you here?”

Soon a voice addressed him, uninvited.

The door opened, and in came a sheepish Soo Il-san, a middle-aged man, and a muscular guard.

The middle-aged man halted at the sight of Jeong-un.

Blue martial attire with a long robe draped over it.

He’d heard the new leader was young, but his looks went beyond youth—he was strikingly handsome.

These days, beauty had all sorts of motives attached; it made sense that the powerful claimed the beautiful, so noble clans’ looks only improved with the generations. It was natural for the man to see Jeong-un and wonder thus.

’Whose prodigious son is this?’

The man grinned amiably and spoke.

”Couldn’t just wait quietly. Neung Ji-mak, I wanted to see the face of the man who brought even that stubborn fellow to heel.”

It seemed this was the Black Hand Gate Leader who’d recently arrived.

Jeong-un ignored him, looking instead at Soo Il-san beside him.

”I told you to send them both up when they’d arrived, didn’t I?”

”Th-that is...”

Soo Il-san faltered, and Yang Gang’s brow twitched in outrage at being slighted.

”To call a guest and then treat him with such neglect? The new Iron-Blood Gate Leader seems to have no concept of manners.”

”Manners?”

Jeong-un gave Yang Gang a peculiar look.

He already knew, thanks to Yang Se-ok. The fellow was guilty of crimes unthinkable for decent men.

The Ghost Face Gate Leader, Bang-yeo, was the same. Both men lived as if the country’s laws were mere suggestions.

’If I saw their faces, I would’ve cut them down on the spot.’

That’s why he’d told them to come up all at once.

He didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary facing those disgusting faces.

His real opponent wasn’t these men, but the Musan Group leader, Jeon Seok-gyeon.

To Jeong-un, this whole thing was nothing but a silly charade.

Even at this moment, the man who did nothing but the unthinkable prattling on about manners—he was too dumbfounded to even laugh.

Staring at Yang Gang, Jeong-un spoke indifferently.

”You’ve come. So sit down.”

Yang Gang snorted and sat. His guard stood behind him, staring daggers at Jeong-un.

Soo Il-san retreated to the corner, keeping silent as a corpse.

Jeong-un took the seat of honor and spoke.

”I have no intention of dragging this out.”

”...?”

As Yang Gang furrowed his brow, Jeong-un continued.

”You’ve seen my face. Now go home. I have no desire for anyone’s recognition. This meeting’s just for show.”

Yang Gang’s face twisted. He’d spent years not caring what others thought.

It would not be easy to keep composure in the face of such open insult.

”... You’re not just impudent—this is outright insolence. Even if I wanted to see your youthful spirit as a virtue, you go too far.”

”...”

”I don’t know what trick you pulled to steal your seat, but it won’t work on me. I’ve seen and done much you haven’t imagined. In fact, before coming here, I was busy carving chunks off another arrogant whelp like you. If not for your insolent letter, I’d have finished him off.”

Jeong-un sat in silence, scanning Yang Gang and his guard with his sensitivity.

They were nothing. The previous Iron-Blood Gate Leader was the same, as were these men.

Yang Se-ok’s words—if not for the District Head, he’d have wiped them all out—echoed freshly in his mind.

’... Is there any reason I have to put up with this?’

Jeong-un unconsciously muttered to himself.