Chapter 15…..

Jeok Wigung looked at him and asked,

“Fine, I’ll let you go. Just take him with you.”

“I’ve got business here too.”

“What, can’t you stand injustice either?”

“You know me well.”

“Birds of a feather, huh? Did you come to preach at me too?”

“That’s right.”

“Sigh. I’ll give you one more chance. Just take him and leave.”

“I said no.”

“Then you’ll have to die.”

Whirrr—

Something flashed toward him. Wigung dodged, and a sickle buried itself where his head had been.

Chak—

The old man who had thrown it grinned wickedly, now holding two sickles.

“Where should I cut you? Just say the word.”

“Wherever you like.”

“Getting cocky just because you knocked down those big guys, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Heh heh heh. Do you know why I bothered talking to you?”

“No idea.”

“Look above.”

When Jeok Wigung lifted his chin, he saw small holes in the ceiling.

“Poison Mist will be sprayed from there. And you kept breathing like an idiot without even noticing. You know Poison Mist, right?”

“The poison that prevents internal energy use.”

“You know it well. Now you understand why I stalled for time?”

“So I couldn’t use my internal energy?”

“Very good. Do you know what situation you’re in now?”

“Nope.”

“…Then let me enlighten you myself.”

Fwoosh—

The old man swung both sickles toward Wigung’s arms and legs.

Pak—!

They should’ve sliced cleanly through—but they halted as if caught on something.

The old man stared at Jeok Wigung in disbelief.

Wigung smirked.

“Oh dear. Did I forget to tell you? I never had internal energy to begin with.”

“What?”

“So—why don’t we take the hit first and then continue our honest conversation?”

“W–wait—!”

Thud—!

“Guahk!”

The old man’s body folded in half.

Even though he tried to protect his abdomen using internal energy, it was useless.

What kind of pain was this?

More importantly—this kind of monstrous punch… without internal energy?

Impossible.

He was the Elder of the Platinum Gate, ranked third among them—the Twin Blood Sickle (잔혈쌍겸).

He once enjoyed considerable fame in the martial world, a master who had reached the near-peak of martial cultivation.

Yet a man with no internal power nearly knocked his soul out of his body with a single punch.

This monster wasn’t the type to hold back on an old man.

He was the same kind of creature as himself.

No—something above him.

Never had the demon mask fit someone so perfectly.

“W–wait! L–let’s talk! We can talk!”

Wigung raised his fist.

“This is me talking.”

“I mean using words!”

“This is a conversation.”

“Th–that doesn’t even make—”

Crunch!

Crack!

Snap!

Pop!

Horrifying sounds followed one after another.

Clang—

The twin sickles—which he would never let go of in a real fight—lay snapped in half on the floor.

Next to them lay the old man, shattered, blood-soaked, barely recognizable—Twin Blood Sickle, utterly defeated.

Twin Blood Sickle opened his eyes.

He sat up with difficulty, wearing the expression of someone who had just endured a nightmare.

“Hah… a horrible dream. It felt so real my whole body hurts…”

A voice he should never have heard reached his ears.

“That wasn’t a dream.”

He jerked his head around—and the demon from the nightmare was standing there, smiling.

“You slept really well. Sleep tight?”

“It… it wasn’t a dream?”

He tried to stand, but pain flooded through him.

What kind of beating causes this kind of agony?

Then he looked around—and froze.

All the big thugs were kneeling with their heads bowed, dripping sweat.

“What are they doing?”

“Reflecting on their sins. You should reflect too.”

“What did I do wrong?”

“Oh? You really don’t know?”

Twin Blood Sickle shut his mouth.

“If you don’t know, I’ll have to beat it into you again. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

Wigung approached slowly, clenching his fist.

Immediately, the pain throughout the old man’s body intensified.

His body remembered.

It remembered exactly how much that punch hurt.

“I—I remember! I remember! I remember everything!”

“Say it.”

Twin Blood Sickle began listing every wicked act he’d committed.

There were a lot.

“Amazing. Truly.”

Twin Blood Sickle hung his head.

Saying it aloud, even he felt ashamed of himself.

“How did you switch out the promissory notes?”

“It’s called the Hidden Paper Method. You overlay an extremely thin sheet with matching patterns, making it impossible to notice. Even experts rarely detect it. Ordinary people could never figure out why their loan documents changed.”

“And to return all the money stolen from innocent people, I’ll have to talk to your sect leader, right?”

The old man nodded.

“What kind of man is he?”

“A man with no blood or tears in the face of money.”

Meaning—he was obsessed with money.

“Then words won’t work.”

Twin Blood Sickle snorted.

“He’d rather die than give up a single coin.”

Oh?

That much?

Then he’d found the perfect test subject.

If even a man that insane over money could be reformed, then his repentance technique would truly be proven.

Hwang Geumman, Sect Leader of the Platinum Gate, was happily spending the night counting the stacks of receipts piled on his desk.

“Khehehe! Look at all this! Wonderful!”

After counting some receipts, he turned to admire a chest full of jewels, smiling blissfully.

“There’s nothing more beautiful in the world.”

He was basking in the sight of his riches when chaos erupted outside.

“Sect Leader! Something terrible has happened! You must come out immediately!”

Huang Geumman hurried out of his vault-like room, carefully sealing the reinforced door.

Outside, a subordinate waited—wearing a grave expression.

“What is it?”

“T–the branch… it’s gone!”

Hwang Geumman stared blankly.

“The branch… is gone?”

“Exactly as I said. We couldn’t contact them, so someone went to check—only to find the branch itself had vanished.”

“The branch itself?”

“Yes! Completely empty.”

“Empty? Then where are the men there?”

“All gone.”

Hwang Geumman stood stunned for a moment—then fury twisted his face.

“Those filthy bastards! They conspired and ran off with my money!”

That was the only explanation.

Three branches must’ve colluded.

There was no time to waste.

“We—we go. Now!”

“Yes!”

He rushed out—but not before carefully setting up a formation inside his room.

A locking barrier.

Only one person could undo it.

Hwang Geumman himself.

Because there was no one in the world who could undo the formation he had installed.

So Hwang Geumman and his men left.

The air rippled.

A human silhouette slowly appeared.

It was Jeok Wigung, who had hidden himself with the Transparency Mantra.

He inspected the formation—and chuckled.

With a wave of his hand, the formation vanished as though it had never existed.

“This was a formation? I thought it was some children’s prank.”

He went straight to the large vault.

He grabbed the handle—then ripped the entire door off.

Rumble—!

The vault door crashed to the ground.

He had done it loudly on purpose.

So Hwang Geumman would hear and rush back.

And indeed—his prediction was perfect.

Hwang Geumman returned in a panic, face red, eyes wild.

He spotted the torn-off vault door.

His eyes rolled back.

“You filthy bastard! Get away from my vault!”

Thud—!

His strike was effortlessly blocked by Wigung’s hand.

Under normal circumstances, Hwang Geumman would have gauged his opponent’s strength.

But right now?

His head was filled with one thing:

Protect the vault.

“Get away from my vault!”

Hwang Geumman’s hand glowed gold.

Golden Emperor Divine Art 

Even his martial art was golden.

Wigung snorted.

He really was insane about gold.

Surely…

He hadn’t chosen that art just because it emitted a gold glow?

This guy wouldn’t listen even if beaten.

Fascinating type.

A perfect research subject.

Blocking the gleaming attacks, Wigung noticed something amusing.

His attacks always followed the same angle.

He smirked.

Even funnier—the man was desperately avoiding damaging anything near his vault.

Curious, Wigung stepped into the vault.

Hwang Geumman froze, stopping his attack instantly.

“W–what do you want!?”

Wigung pointed inside the vault.

“All of that.”

“Y–you filthy—!”

He was furious, but didn’t attack.

“If you’re a man, come out! Come out and talk!”

“You’ll attack me if I do.”

“I—I won’t! I promise! Just please come out!”

He was practically begging.

And even now, his eyes stayed glued to his treasure.

“I already said what I want. I want all this.”

“You think you can take it safely?”

“I don’t plan to take it. I’m going to give it away to the people here.”

Hwang Geumman stiffened.

He quickly turned to look at his subordinates.

Their expressions were… bad.

“You—you’re not believing him, are you?”

“Haha. Of course not.”

“Who would trust someone other than our Sect Leader?”

“Don’t worry.”

But despite their words, their faces were already filled with expectation.

To win them back—

Hwang Geumman squeezed his eyes shut and shouted,

“C–capture that man! I will give each of you one nyang of gold!”

“OOOOOH!”

The subordinates cheered.

Then Wigung’s voice echoed—

“If I spread all the treasure here, it won’t just be one nyang each.
You might end up with enough to live in luxury for the rest of your lives.”

Their eyes sparkled with greed again.

Hwang Geumman was losing his mind.

He had never imagined something like this.

How was he supposed to fix this?

Then—something flashed above Hwang Geumman’s head.

He knew instantly—it was his gold.

He threw himself at it with all his strength and caught it midair.

Sighing in relief, he turned around—

—only to see his subordinates staring at him with deep disappointment.

Their loyalty…