Chapter 101

Chapter 101
## Chapter 101: Flying Bear Stronghold (1)

“We’ve located their scent.”

Wang Chuk surged upward from his chair, a triumphant shout escaping his lips. Bits of chewed meal sprayed from his mouth in his excitement.

While Noe Jeon was quick enough to shield his own bowl, a stray fragment of Wang Chuk’s lunch managed to find its way into Cheol Woo’s rice.

“Are you kidding me!?”

Having spent days navigating mountain passes and dismantling the Hongik Group, Cheol Woo hadn’t enjoyed a proper sit-down meal in ages. His face twisted in a grimace as he tried to devour the feast like a whirlwind.

“How can you show such disrespect to a sacred meal…?”

Before his temper could truly flare, Sima Geon cut in with a pressing inquiry.

“Where are they located? Are they lingering around Poyang Lake?”

“Negative. Just as we suspected, they’ve cleared out of Poyang Lake. Their vessels were identified near Jiujiang.”

“Are they moving in the direction we predicted?”

“Indeed. According to the scouts, they are traveling upstream toward Dongting Lake, the main hub for the Yangtze Waterway Alliance.”

“Excellent. We won’t have to waste time searching useless backwaters.”

Cheol Woo irritably flicked the debris from Wang Chuk’s mouth out of his bowl and went back to shoveling rice with his chopsticks.

Following the escape of the Hongik Group’s leader, Sima Geon and his companions had been racked with worry over how to find him. If he made a beeline for the Yangtze Waterway Alliance, it would be straightforward—but the prospect of hunting through the massive Poyang Lake or searching every hidden aquatic fortress was a recipe for a long, exhausting stalemate.

However, while they were brainstorming strategies based on Wang Chuk’s insights, the Black Dragon Ship had emerged from Poyang Lake and blundered right into the intelligence net of the Beggars’ Sect.

“The Yangtze is a massive territory, but the vision of the Beggars’ Sect spans the four seas. Once we have a lock on them, there is no hiding.”

Wang Chuk beamed, radiating pride in the information-gathering prowess of his organization.

“My thanks. We owe this breakthrough to you, Brother Wang.”

Sima Geon raised his cup in a genuine show of gratitude.

“Hahaha! It’s nothing at all. We are allies, after all.”

While the commands from his superiors and the request from Manchu played their parts, Wang Chuk had developed a deep respect for Sima Geon’s team after seeing them crush the Hongik Group. He was committed to assisting them with every resource at his disposal.

“Oh, and Chuya. Once we reach Jiujiang, make sure to ask the local branch for additional support. The groundwork is laid, but a direct word from you will carry much more weight.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Manchu answered without breaking his rhythm as he tilted more liquor down his throat.

“And for pity’s sake, slow down on the spirits. You were a heavy drinker before, but this is getting out of hand…”

Wang Chuk’s voice trailed off as he stared at the empty ceramic jar Manchu had just finished.

“By the way, Division Leader.”

Noe Jeon turned his attention to Sima Geon.

“The Beggars’ Sect will keep us on their trail, but what is our travel plan? Do we follow the riverbank by land, or do we secure a vessel?”

“Why take the difficult path on land? It would take significantly longer. Let’s just find a boat.”

Sima Geon looked toward Manchu, who gave a dismissive shrug.

“Water is the way. Traveling overland would be a crawl by comparison.”

“I concur. Even with lightfoot techniques or fast horses, it’s a lot of unnecessary work. It’s harder to respond to a crisis that way, too. From Jiujiang by water, we’ll arrive in three days at most. It’s the superior choice.”

With both Wang Chuk and Manchu in agreement, Sima Geon made the final call.

“It’s settled. We reach Jiujiang as fast as possible, then we sail.”

The restless Sima Geon started to stand up, but Cheol Woo grabbed his arm.

“Finish your food first!”

—

Fifty li upriver from Jiujiang, heading toward the Yangtze’s higher reaches, sits Wu Xue Valley, a place defined by towering, jagged cliffs.

The Flying Bear Stronghold, a subsidiary of the Yangtze Waterway Alliance, was situated on a tributary flowing into that valley. In terms of both numbers and combat power, it was considered one of the top five factions within the alliance.

Its commander, Deung Ja Gon, was only in his mid-thirties but possessed high-tier martial skills and a gift for command that had made him famous. The elders of the alliance even whispered that he was a candidate for the next overall leadership position.

As the sun began to sink toward the horizon and the heat felt like a heavy weight, Gyu Pyeong arrived stumbling at the front gates of the Flying Bear Stronghold.

As a consistent messenger for the Chueo Party, he was allowed through the gates without difficulty and led toward the private inner rooms. There, he encountered Deung Cheol—the former commander and current elder statesman of the stronghold.

“W-what was that you said?”

Gyu Pyeong’s voice shook with nerves.

“He went out to gather supplies.”

“Dammit! When did he leave?”

Deung Cheol’s eyes narrowed at Gyu Pyeong’s disrespectful tone, though a thin smile remained on his face.

“Earlier this morning. He was cooped up during the storms, so he charged out like a restless bull the moment the skies cleared.”

“Ah!”

Gyu Pyeong gripped his hair in a fit of frustration.

He had spent the entire night drinking at a pleasure house, followed by days of indulgence with a courtesan he had spent a fortune on—and as a result, he had overslept. He had completely missed the urgent carrier pigeon that arrived at daybreak. It was a message marked with the highest priority.

‘The drink—no, the women are going to be the end of me.’

There were no valid excuses; the failure was entirely his. Considering the importance of the orders, he couldn’t even guess what the penalty would be. He might lose his life.

Deung Cheol watched Gyu Pyeong with a steady gaze before asking, “What’s the trouble? Do you have a pressing message for the chief?”

“Uh? Well…”

Gyu Pyeong wavered, and Deung Cheol’s expression turned cold.

“Your name is Gyu Pyeong, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m tempted to ride to Gunsan this instant and break the neck of that useless Ga Hyu for failing to train his subordinates properly. What do you think about that?”

A cold shiver ran down Gyu Pyeong’s spine.

The elder spoke as if joking, but the messenger knew he wasn’t.

Deung Cheol, known as the Yangtze Butcher, had lost a limb to the famed escort Yi Mu Jin of the Yongseung Agency, but he remained a man of his word when it came to violence.

“M-my apologies!”

Gyu Pyeong threw himself onto the floor, kowtowing with desperation.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Excuse me?”

“What exactly are you sorry for?”

Already panicked by his failure to deliver the HQ orders, Gyu Pyeong’s mind went blank under the veiled threat. He simply continued to bow his head against the floor.

“I am sorry. Truly sorry, sir.”

“Tsk tsk. Then stop making mistakes that require apologies.”

Deung Cheol placed his foot lightly on Gyu Pyeong’s head and spoke in a coaxing tone.

“What was the message? Looking at your state, it must be significant. I’ll find out eventually, so don’t try to lie.”

Cowering under the threat of death, Gyu Pyeong blurted out the contents of the pigeon’s scroll.

“…That is why I came here with such haste.”

Deung Cheol listened in silence, then slowly removed his foot.

“I see. So this Sima Geon destroyed the Hongik Group and is currently hunting their leader. They don’t know if he’s coming by land or water, but he’s a dangerous man—we were told not to fight and to stay hidden.”

“Y-yes.”

“Yet you spent the night drinking and playing with women, stalling a report that should have been here hours ago. You’ve put my son’s life at risk.”

“P-please, kill me.”

“As you wish.”

Deung Cheol’s foot came down with crushing force. Gyu Pyeong’s head shattered with a sickening sound.

Blood and matter stained the elder’s shoe, but Deung Cheol didn’t even flinch.

“Is someone there? Prepare the men to move—immediately!”

With a voice like a thunderclap, Deung Cheol hurried out, his heart heavy with the memory of his two sons smiling as they set out on their trip earlier that day.

—

Sima Geon and his group arrived in Jiujiang with incredible speed and were fortunate enough to find a ship right away. It was a merchant vessel traveling from Nanjing to Yiyang that had been delayed by the recent bad weather.

Because it was behind schedule, it was taking on passengers for a price to make up for lost time, essentially acting as a ferry.

“The sun is out, the wind is nice, everything is perfect—except this boat is painfully slow. Why is it swaying so much?”

Sitting at the front of the ship, Cheol Woo sipped on Manchu’s liquor and hummed, complaining about the ship’s pace.

“We have a tailwind, but the river current is very aggressive. The sailors mentioned they usually wouldn’t even be out in this.”

“Is that so? Then why are they?”

“It’s a commercial ship. They’re motivated by profit. They’ve already missed their deadline—they’re looking at massive financial hits.”

“That’s their problem. Heh heh! We get a relaxing trip to Dongting Lake.”

Cheol Woo and Manchu clinked their jars together, drinking in a friendly competition.

“Ahh! That’s the good stuff!”

“Heh, truly excellent.”

While the two of them were laughing and drinking, Noe Jeon had become uncharacteristically quiet.

Cheol Woo gave him a poke with his foot. Noe Jeon was staring intently at a single spot.

“What are you staring at?”

“Huh?”

Noe Jeon jumped, his head spinning around quickly. Cheol Woo narrowed his eyes with suspicion.

“What’s got you so distracted?”

Cheol Woo followed Noe Jeon’s line of sight and slowly turned his head.

Across from them sat several women enjoying the river air.

They were dressed in pure, snow-white garments with their faces partially obscured by delicate pink silk—they looked like they were framed by falling flower petals.

Cheol Woo stared for a moment, then slapped the back of Noe Jeon’s head.

“You brat! You were keeping this view to yourself?”

“Ow! I only just noticed them!”

Noe Jeon rubbed the sore spot, complaining, but Cheol Woo wasn’t listening.

“Liar. Who would believe that? You’re a pervert.”

“It’s not just Brother Noe Jeon. Look around—everyone is staring.”

Manchu was right. The sailors at the wheel, the merchants checking their goods, and even the hired guards—everyone was stealing glances at the women.

“They’re beautiful, obviously, but they have an aura. A ‘stay away’ kind of energy.”

“True. People are looking, but no one is brave enough to walk over.”

Cheol Woo grabbed both of their necks roughly.

“Ack!”

“Hey!”

Cheol Woo pulled Noe Jeon close to his face.

“How long are you going to keep gawking? Manchu is one thing—but you should have realized by now. Look at them. They’re warriors. High-level ones.”

“Ow, I know that! But there’s something else… It’s like a glow! A halo.”

“A halo? Since when did you become a monk?”

Cheol Woo shook Noe Jeon by the neck in frustration.

“Perhaps it really is a halo.”

Sima Geon, who had been leaning quietly at the bow until now, spoke up with a touch of poetry in his voice.

“What? Is the Boss losing it too?”

Cheol Woo frowned.

Sima Geon simply offered a small smile. His eyes weren’t fixed on the more animated women, but on the one sitting peacefully in the center. Whether by chance or design, her eyes met his at that exact moment.