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chapter 27
He put his foot up on the chair next to the Sword Spirit, glared with a vicious expression, and picked a fight.
The courtesan sitting across the table worried that the Sword Spirit might get hurt.
“Then please go ahead. I’m done eating anyway.”
Seeing how unexpectedly willingly the Sword Spirit gave up his seat, the courtesan felt relief.
But the other courtesans and women sitting around looked a little disappointed.
With his delicate face, fair skin, refined knowledge, and even martial arts—wasn’t he perhaps the perfect man, one of a kind in this world?
When the Sword Spirit stood up, the corners of the men’s lips curled upward. They thought he was leaving out of fear of them.
“Sister! Let’s go for a walk.”
“As you wish, young master!”
As the Sword Spirit and the courtesan gave up their places, the men sneered at him.
“And that’s supposed to be a man…?”
“He’s no man, brother! He looks like a woman. Probably just one of those playthings.”
They jeered and mocked the Sword Spirit, but he paid them no mind.
“Young master! You must endure this. Those men are the Four Hounds of the Zhu River—mid-level officers of the Zhu River Waterway Gang, which controls this region.”
The Waterway Gang!
If mountains had bandits, then rivers had waterway gangs.
In the central plains, there were thirteen major gangs centered on the Yellow River—known as the Thirteen Yellow River Waterway Gangs. Likewise, there were fifteen on the Yangtze—called the Fifteen Yangtze Waterway Gangs.
The Zhu River Waterway Gang was different. Independent of both, it blocked the routes between the Zhu River and the sea, robbing travelers or extorting tolls to survive.
The courtesan had warned him so he wouldn’t flare up and cause a fight.
The Sword Spirit nodded.
“Then they’re bad men.”
“Exactly. It’s best not to engage them, young master. Let’s just go for our walk.”
Following her wishes, the Sword Spirit went downstairs with her.
From behind, the Four Hounds of the Zhu River tried to provoke them, but neither reacted.
If ignored, such men soon grew bored.
Sure enough, when the Sword Spirit left without a single word, their excitement quickly dulled.
“What are you staring at! Never seen a face before?”
They barked at the other patrons, who lowered their heads nervously. One by one, the second-floor guests slipped away downstairs.
“Pathetic fools… That’s why scholars are useless. All talk, no bite.”
The scholars flushed with shame but didn’t dare resist.
Not even a single warrior around today…
They cursed their luck instead of the bullies.
“You endured well,” the courtesan said as she stepped out of Xianghak Pavilion with him.
“It was nothing. But earlier, you called them the Four Hounds of the Zhu River… are they really that bad?”
When he asked, she frowned slightly.
“They…”
As she explained, the Sword Spirit too furrowed his brows. The word despicable wasn’t enough.
“Do the martial artists or the government troops just let them be?”
“They bribe the officials heavily to secure protection. On top of that, they have ties with the Ming Sha Sect—so no one dares cross them.”
The Ming Sha Sect was one of the great demonic groups in Guangdong, rivaling the Xin Chang family in power. That was why the Zhu River Waterway Gang could rampage unchecked.
The Sword Spirit quickly grasped the situation.
It was no different from the Black Tiger Sect in Hong Kong, extorting merchants and bribing magistrates. The only difference was the scale.
“There will always be those who live off mutual exploitation.”
A relationship of exchanging favors, to sustain each other.
“But be careful, young master! They kill without hesitation.”
He nodded.
“Don’t worry. I’ve killed plenty myself.”
The Black Tiger Sect, Wang E Mountain bandits, Foshan brigands… over a hundred fifty had already died by his hand.
“You, young master?”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
She nodded—he looked too gentle to have blood on his hands.
“Then don’t believe it.”
It was the truth, but no one ever did.
After half an hour’s stroll along the Zhu River, the two returned.
“Sister, I had a wonderful time. Let’s meet again tomorrow.”
“As you wish, young master. Rest well.”
She longed to stay with him through the night, but she couldn’t. A trace of regret lingered as she turned back.
Once back in his room, the Sword Spirit opened the window.
“They say a man isn’t a man if he ignores injustice.”
He leapt out the window. Like a wild bird, he streaked across the sky, unseen by the crowd below.
“Keuk keuk keuk!”
The unpleasant laughter belonged to none other than Gon Hong-gi.
He had broken into a sleeping woman’s room to assault her.
Rip!
A sharp tearing sound followed by a short scream.
The victim was the very courtesan who had accompanied the Sword Spirit earlier that day.
She was stripped bare beneath him. Her face was swollen beyond recognition, her body covered in bruises.
Rip!
Her mind was nearly gone from his sadistic abuse.
“Keuk! For a courtesan, you don’t seem to know men at all.”
He grabbed her chest.
“Uugh!”
A ragged groan escaped her lips.
“Where is that brat?”
“I… don’t… know… young… master…”
Even while being violated, she refused to reveal the Sword Spirit’s whereabouts.
“Aagh!”
This time, a piercing scream ripped from her throat.
“Keuk keuk!”
Gon Hong-gi had torn away her breast. Blood spilled, soaking the bed. She fainted from the pain.
“Keuk! Did you think you could hide him forever?”
Licking her unconscious face with his tongue, he groped her other breast.
“Aaagh!”
The agony brought her back to consciousness.
“P-please… spare the… young master…”
Though she would die, she begged for the Sword Spirit’s life.
Gon Hong-gi frowned.
“You don’t care about your own death, but you want that boy spared?”
She nodded weakly.
“Keuk! A virtuous woman, eh?”
Ignoring her plea, he pressed his palm to her chest.
“Hhkk!”
Pain surged as blood was drawn into his palm.
“Only I can command myself.”
He drained not just her blood but her very life force. Her corpse shriveled like dried wood, eyes frozen open in death.
But instead of satisfaction, Gon Hong-gi felt only emptiness—and an ever-growing hunger for more blood essence. His mastery of the Demonic Fire Jade Form Art had reached a dangerous stage.
“No matter where you hide, I won’t spare you.”
As his rage turned toward the Sword Spirit, he sensed another presence.
“Who’s there!”
He flung a dagger instantly, faster than the eye could follow.
“Ghk!”
A grunt, followed by retreating footsteps. Someone had been wounded and fled.
Alarmed, Gon Hong-gi rushed after them. If that spy escaped, everything could collapse.
Soon, he caught sight of the fleeing figure.
Then came the real problem—commotion drew people out of their homes.
“Damn it!”
He couldn’t afford to be recognized. He forced himself to appear calm while hurrying after.
Sensing the fugitive’s qi fading, he sped up, using his full movement techniques.
After half an hour, he finally closed in.
And froze.
The spy was from the Beggar’s Sect—the largest beggar organization in the world.
“This one must not escape.”
The Sword Spirit, having finished his task, returned to Xianghak Pavilion. A bundle was now tied to his back.
But a crowd had gathered outside.
“What happened?” he asked someone.
“A person died… but in the strangest way.”
“Oh?”
“They shriveled up like dried wood.”
The Sword Spirit narrowed his eyes.
There are demonic arts that drain blood and inner force. But with my indestructible sword body, such arts mean nothing.
He recalled the battle between Yakbing and the Phantom Demon Lord, then walked toward the corpse.
There lay the courtesan from earlier, shriveled and bare.
Gon Hong-gi, having chased the spy, hadn’t had time to dispose of her.
Though their memories together were brief, they had shared laughter for half a day.
The Sword Spirit gently closed her eyes. Though dead, it seemed she smiled at him.
He nodded, turned, and left. People whispered about him, but he didn’t care.
Stepping out of Xianghak Pavilion, he closed his eyes briefly, then launched himself into the night sky—toward the same direction Gon Hong-gi had gone, in pursuit of the fleeing spy.
