Urban Vagabond: Reload

At the same time.

The Blue Wolves crew members were facing the secrets hidden beneath the Sun and Moon Gate’s building.

“As expected... but it’s vile beyond words.”

Choi Geon muttered, swallowing down his rage.

In his hand were documents showing that Jang Jinmyeong had supplied martial artists’ organs to GREAT HEAVEN GATE’s illegal businesses, as well as records of his plan to infiltrate assassins into the license exam venue to kidnap Yang Hayun.

That wasn’t all. They also found numerous traces of deals with powerful underworld figures—leaders of unorthodox factions who controlled the back-alley world.

“Damn. I knew he was dirty, but I didn’t think he’d been eating this well. If this blows up, Sun and Moon Gate’s gonna have a funeral procession lined up for miles.”

Hwang Suksu exclaimed as he went through the secured materials.

In the basement room, there weren’t only paper documents—there was also a sizable amount of encrypted data. But for Hwang Suksu, who handled and managed sensitive information for a living, most of it was easy to decrypt.

“Sir. This one has an explosive device attached—what do we do?”

After finding an iron coffer, Hwang Suksu asked Choi Geon.

The coffer was so heavy that even a martial artist would struggle to lift it. On its surface, there was only a single engraved character—one that meant the Cult.

And when he checked it with the sensor they’d brought, there was indeed an explosive device installed inside.

The fact that they’d rigged it to blow if tampered with meant only one thing:

This was something that could become fatal evidence against Jang Jinmyeong, the sect leader of Sun and Moon Gate.

“The Cult...? Don’t tell me...”

Choi Geon’s eyes widened as an old incident surfaced in his mind.

Over twenty years ago, there had been a heretical cult that expanded at an unbelievable speed in a short span of time, throwing the world into chaos.

Choi Geon had led an elite force of martial artists assembled to wipe them out, attacking their headquarters—

Only to fall into an enemy trap and lose most of his comrades.

There was no doubt someone had leaked information.

But in the end, he had been forced to shoulder all responsibility and leave the Martial Alliance.

“If... this is connected to you...”

The murderous intent pouring off him was so terrifying that Hwang Suksu trembled.

Choi Geon stared at the iron coffer as if he might cut it in half with a single stroke—then let out a low sigh and gave an order.

“We’re taking it. Lift it.”

“...Me?”

“Then should I carry it?”

Hwang Suksu obediently hoisted the iron coffer up onto his shoulder.

It was far heavier than he expected. He barely managed to swallow the curse that almost slipped out.

Damn it. Just let one guy slip in under me—just one—and I’ll finally have someone to boss around.

In the basement room, there were not only records of Jang Jinmyeong’s crimes, but also weaknesses that could deal a devastating blow to Sun and Moon Gate’s continued existence.

But Choi Geon didn’t touch those.

Because of his agreement with the Glacier Priestess.

If Jang Jinmyeong pays for his sins, and Sun and Moon Gate is forced to shut its gates for a while, that’s enough.

Without that compromise, the Glacier Priestess would never have been persuaded.

“...Wait, seriously? You’re just leaving all that behind? You could blackmail them for life and keep squeezing them forever—”

“Do you take me for someone like you?”

Hwang Suksu looked like he couldn’t understand it, but Choi Geon shook his head firmly.

The Glacier Priestess had left this place in Choi Geon’s hands precisely because she knew the Sword Demon was that kind of martial artist—stubborn in his principles.

Of course, there was also a practical reason.

This is where we stop. This is where we’re satisfied.

If the Martial Alliance destroyed one of the Eight Great Sects outright, the backlash would be unbearable.

In the worst case, it could mean an all-out war with the other Eight Great Sects.

Right now, they could act this boldly only because they had justification and public opinion at their backs.

But if they crossed a certain line, the others wouldn’t stay quiet.

“We’re going back.”

Everything they’d found down here had already been reported to the Martial Alliance in real time.

By now, the preparations to detonate the nuclear bomb should be complete.

But at Choi Geon’s words, Hwang Suksu hesitated, glancing around nervously.

“Um, sir... still, we came all the way down here. Can’t I at least skim a little off the top?”

Hwang Suksu feared Choi Geon, but he wasn’t such a small man that fear stole his ability to speak.

He’d done no small amount of work to get this far, so Choi Geon nodded.

“Don’t get greedy. Take only what fits in your pockets.”

“Heh-heh-heh. Of course!”

Overjoyed, Hwang Suksu stuffed the things he’d had his eye on into his pockets until they were packed tight.

Along one wall of the basement, there were also rare elixirs and plenty of valuable items.

That was when Kim Bokja—who had been scanning the area with spells, checking if they’d missed anything—tilted her head with a strange expression.

“Something’s off...”

Compared to Choi Geon, her qi-sense was nothing.

But when it came to spells and spiritual phenomena, her sensitivity was sharper than even a pinnacle expert’s.

“Sir. Just a moment.”

Kim Bokja walked over to one wall, then turned back to Choi Geon and asked,

“Cut here for me. I think there’s something on the other side.”

“Hey, Red Rabbit! You think cutting through a thick steel door is as easy as slicing radish? Even for sir, it’s a pain—why make him—”

Choi Geon walked forward and swung his sword without another word.

SHRRRK!

The thick steel door split like paper.

When he kicked it, the door toppled backward with a heavy—

THUD—

—and a new space revealed itself beyond.

Hwang Suksu blinked a few times, set the iron coffer down on the floor, and clapped like a seal.

“Wow—our Blue Wolves’ strongest! I respect you, sir!”

“Carry the coffer properly. Before I make you regret being born.”

“Yes! Leave it to me!”

Leaving the two of them behind, Kim Bokja stepped inside.

And soon, she found a small animal trapped in a cage.

KEE-EE...

A thin, strained cry.

It was a small bird—barely the size of a palm.

It was wrapped tightly in twine, and talismans had been plastered all over it.

Maybe it hadn’t been able to eat or drink properly—its body lay limp.

KEE-EE... KEE-EE...

Its fur—orangish-red, the color of a sunset—looked like it had once been vivid.

But wherever the twine touched, it had blackened and discolored.

The small bird lifted its head with effort and looked up at Kim Bokja.

Without thinking, Kim Bokja reached out to pull the pitiful creature out—

Then felt something subtle and froze mid-motion.

“Huh...?”

As if she’d realized something a beat too late, her eyes went round, and she reflexively stepped back.

“No way... That can’t be...”

Choi Geon came up beside her and asked,

“The aura doesn’t feel like an ordinary beast. Is it, perhaps, a spirit beast?”

Kim Bokja examined the small bird carefully, then shook her head with an expression that looked unsure even to herself.

Spirit beasts and anomalies weren’t always easy to distinguish.

But what stood before them belonged to a category set apart—because of how dangerous it was.

“No. This is an anomaly. And not a normal one—this feels like a Great Anomaly. I’ve only ever seen something like this in old books...”

“What did you say?”

Choi Geon turned to look at her, as if he thought she might be joking.

But her face was far too serious for a joke.

Among the countless spellcasters Choi Geon had encountered, Kim Bokja’s talent was among the very best.

She wouldn’t misread an anomaly’s aura.

“It looks like a newborn hatchling, but I’m sure. This... it’s a Golden Winged Bird.”

“Jang Jinmyeong, you insane bastard!”

Choi Geon roared.

A Great Anomaly was a calamity—something that could erase an entire city in a single night.

Of course, this was only a hatchling, so it wouldn’t have that kind of power yet, but—

“He’s truly lost his mind. To hide a Great Anomaly’s young... Don’t tell me he stole it from the mother.”

KEE-EE... KEE-EE...

The Golden Winged Bird squirmed, whining as if begging to be freed.

Only then did it make perfect sense why they’d layered it in sealing talismans and bound it in twine.

“Step back. Don’t touch it carelessly. If something goes wrong...”

Great Anomalies were said to be impossible to tame.

But if someone did succeed...

They would gain power and symbolism beyond imagination.

Even if most cases ended in horrific consequences when they failed.

“Sir.”

But in that instant, something happened that even Choi Geon didn’t anticipate.

In Kim Bokja’s eyes, a warm flame rose—different from the cold, sharp ghostflame she usually carried.

WHOOSH!

At the same time, flames burst from the Golden Winged Bird’s body, and the twine and talismans binding it ignited in an instant.

“Guh—! It’s free! Sir! Th-that—what do we do?!”

Watching in panic, Hwang Suksu flailed and fell backward on his butt.

And Choi Geon, startled, brought a hand to his sword hilt—

PYA-AAAK!

The Golden Winged Bird hatchling spread its small wings and let out a fierce cry—

Then toddled forward on unsteady legs and climbed onto Kim Bokja’s palm.

Kim Bokja lifted the tiny anomaly with both hands and showed it to the two men.

“Can’t we take it with us?”

“Cough—!”

It was such a calm question that even Choi Geon—the Sword Demon of all people—nearly choked.

*****

The license award ceremony was carried out succinctly.

Since there weren’t many who had passed, the Martial Alliance Leader personally called each name one by one.

“Oh Jungmin of Songwol Gate!”

“Song Junho of Supreme Pole Sword Gate!”

“Pi Seunghwa of Golden Glory Gate!”

“Yang Hayun of Sun and Moon Gate!”

Each time their name was called, the martial artist stepped up onto the sparring platform, which had been turned into an award stage.

The Martial Alliance Leader—now changed into a suit—handed them their license certificate himself and offered words of encouragement.

“Martial artist Shin Kangheon. If you can rein in that temper just a little, you’ll achieve greatness. In about ten years, you could go out into the world and compete properly.”

“Then I’ll be recognized as Korea’s greatest blade within five years and go out into the world!”

“Hahahaha! Did you not just hear me say you’re too impatient?!”

In the festive mood, congratulations, cheers, and applause continued.

Those who received their licenses first sat in the chairs set behind the Martial Alliance Leader. One by one, the empty seats filled.

“Martial artist Bu Yeonha of Azure Sky Sword Gate. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of seeing such a fine sword. Now I understand why the Grand Elder has remained in the sect leader’s seat all this time, waiting.”

“You flatter me. Thanks to the Martial Alliance Leader’s instruction, I was able to realize many of my shortcomings.”

Once Bu Yeonha of Azure Sky Sword Gate sat down, only one chair remained.

Yeo Pilgeuk smiled and swept his gaze widely across the venue.

“So we’re already at the last one. Everyone likely knows who it is, so I won’t drag it out.”

This year, unusually, they didn’t announce separate rankings among the passers.

But everyone knew who had shown the most extraordinary performance.

A twenty-year-old rising talent who, in his first license exam, had gone beyond first-rate martial artist and obtained a pinnacle-expert license.

“Pinnacle expert Kim Muhyuk—come up.”

As expected, the loudest cheers and a standing ovation erupted.

Kim Muhyuk stepped onto the stage and delivered a short remark with a calm expression.

“Thank you. I won’t get arrogant, and I’ll train even harder.”

“That’s all? Everyone’s watching you like you just won a martial tournament.”

“I think I’ll be saying plenty in the future, so I’ll hold back today. There are people who’ve been waiting a long time, too—they’d get bored.”

His answer, full of confidence and quick wit, made the watchers laugh.

Kim Muhyuk grinned and added one more line.

“I hope the world becomes a more just place.”

With Kim Muhyuk’s meaningful remark, the orthodox martial world’s celebration came to a close.

But no one left their seat.

Because the bombshell the Martial Alliance Leader had promised was still to come.

“Recently, there have been consecutive tragic incidents in the martial world.”

Standing before the cameras with a bitter expression, Yeo Pilgeuk spoke with the newly licensed rising stars of the orthodox martial world behind him.

“Unknown assassins infiltrated the Martial Alliance, and GREAT HEAVEN GATE—one of the orthodox martial world’s pillars—suffered a horrific terror attack. GREAT HEAVEN GATE’s sect leader is missing; at present, their life or death is unknown.”

As the mood grew heavy, the venue fell silent.

The Martial Alliance Leader’s voice carried evenly, calm and flat.

“Shamefully, the Martial Alliance failed to respond quickly to these incidents. Sects and martial artists registered with the Alliance have the duty to report incidents to the Alliance—but in practice, those reports always pass through other channels first.”

The air was starting to move in a strange direction.

The first to notice were the sect leaders of the Eight Great Sects.

Don’t tell me...

What is he about to say?

He called us here, and now he’s saying this?

The expressions of the Eight Great Sects’ sect leaders—quietly listening—hardened.

But in a situation like this, they couldn’t stop the Martial Alliance Leader from speaking.

“Martial artists of the Martial Alliance, who should always stand proud, have begun watching someone else’s face. Rising talents who should practice justice and live as heroic martial artists have, before they realized it, become obsessed only with status and advancement.”

“That is not, in itself, wrong. Everyone wants wealth and fame.”

“But if the methods are not righteous—how are we any different from beasts who are merely strong?”

Tension sharpened as the Martial Alliance Leader’s voice gained force.

Those with quick instincts understood what he was about to do.

Even those who didn’t could feel, in their bones, that something big was coming.

[Alliance Leader. What are you trying to say?]

[Stop. Unless you intend to go to war with us...]

[Can you bear the consequences?]

The sect leaders of the Eight Great Sects sent him voice transmissions, but Yeo Pilgeuk continued as if he hadn’t heard.

He spoke of the reality of mid-tier and small sects, treated like subcontractors—subordinate to major sects.

He spoke of how they locked children into contracts before they even became teenagers—snatching up talent early—then tearing those contracts up when their growth didn’t please them, or tossing them down the ladder as subcontractors.

He spoke of why, despite all that, the Martial Alliance couldn’t sanction them—and instead had been forced to watch their faces.

He spoke of how those entrenched, chronic abuses were poisoning the Korean martial world.

And after pouring out decades of accumulated resentment, he finally detonated the bomb he had prepared.

“Therefore, the Martial Alliance will propose legislation to strengthen oversight of major sect corruption. Our Alliance will directly serve as the oversight body. We will disperse excessively concentrated power and authority, and create an environment where martial arts can be trained equally!”

In the end, unable to endure it any longer, the sect leaders of Supreme Pole Sword Gate and Golden Glory Gate of the Eight Great Sects slammed back their chairs and sprang to their feet.

“Alliance Leader. You’re blaming us for your incompetence!”

“Do you dare make such an absurd accusation?! The world will see this for what it is—a scheme to strengthen the Martial Alliance’s power!”

He had said “major sects,” but anyone could see the legislation was aimed squarely at the Eight Great Sects.

Their fury and backlash were inevitable.

“Heh-heh-heh...”

Jang Jinmyeong, the sect leader of Sun and Moon Gate, didn’t stand—but he let out a hollow laugh, his shoulders shaking as if he found it ridiculous.

“Alliance Leader.”

Na Ilcheon, the Azure Sky Sword Elder, didn’t shout condemnation like the others, but even his gaze turned cold.

“Your words are nothing but one-sided claims. If you intend to propose such legislation, you will need far more valid reasons and evidence.”

The smile that had remained on his lips vanished, and a sharp, honed blade of momentum rose from him.

But Yeo Pilgeuk, too, raised a mountain-like presence that did not yield.

“The true culprit who dared infiltrate assassins into the Martial Alliance and order them to harm rising talents. As for the rest—we’ll ask that person directly.”

“...What is this? How does that have anything to do with this matter?”

“Of course it does. The culprit is sitting right here.”

“What...?”

In the eyes of the enraged sect leaders of the Eight Great Sects, shock flashed.

They started darting their eyes, glancing at one another with only their pupils, thinking—

No way. That’s impossible...

Even if it’s true, they wouldn’t have left evidence.

Which idiot would—?!

Distrust and suspicion began to seep between them.

The nameless anxiety gnawing at them started turning into fear.

“The Martial Alliance’s heroic swordsmen—arrest Jang Jinmyeong, the sect leader of Sun and Moon Gate!”

The moment Yeo Pilgeuk’s booming command rang out, Martial Alliance martial artists revealed themselves from all around.

“The charges are multiple counts of murder and solicitation of murder! Illegal drug distribution and organ trafficking—and the cultivation of a forbidden demonic art, as we strongly suspect!”

Yeo Pilgeuk stared at Jang Jinmyeong with the eyes of a magistrate passing judgment.

“I hereby declare Jang Jinmyeong a martial-world public enemy!”