BOOM!
A deafening crash shook the Southern Heavy Healer House.
Clan Lord Geum Yeohwi's furious shout echoed through the hall.
"What did you just say those bastards from the Divine Healer Clan demanded?! An exchange ratio of twenty to one?"
"Y-yes, Clan Lord. They said if we refuse, they'll shut down their doors altogether, even if cholera spreads."
"Those wretched dogs!"
In truth, the Divine Healer Clan could afford to make such a threat.
If they closed their doors because they lacked medicine, who could blame them?
Of course, they would never actually do it — but between the two, it was the Southern Heavy House that stood to lose everything.
If one of their high-ranking patients — nobles or officials — were to die from inadequate treatment, all the resentment would fall squarely on them.
After all, everyone knew the Southern Heavy Healer House was the cause of this entire disaster.
"Even the local magistrates are telling us to reach an agreement. The people's outrage is growing by the day."
"Hah! We paid them enough bribes to fill their coffers, and now they're turning their backs on us?"
Geum Yeohwi ground his teeth.
It was becoming clear that this move had been a grave mistake.
"Twenty to one is out of the question. Five to one, at most."
"But, Clan Lord… the Divine Healer Clan is refusing to yield."
"Then we'll make them yield — by force, if necessary. Bring me Master Eun."
"…You don't mean—"
The Zhejiang Blood Sword, Eun Sowee.
As his epithet implied, he was a notorious demonic cultivator from Zhejiang Province — a swordsman whose blade was feared throughout the south.
He now lived as a guest warrior of the Southern Heavy Healer House.
It wasn't unusual for a healing clan to harbor a demonic expert.
A physician's duty was to heal the sick, regardless of sect or affiliation — that was the justification.
The healer clan gained a powerful protector, and the demonic cultivator gained a chance to cleanse his reputation. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
"That brat's name was Wi Jicheon, wasn't it? The little fool who started all this?"
Geum Yeohwi's smile was chilling.
"Let's see how he enjoys learning what true fear feels like."
"Are you Wi Jicheon?"
Wi Jicheon lifted his head.
He had been walking down a quiet back alley in South Street when a man in a bamboo hat blocked his path.
The man's fierce eyes glared down at him like a predator sizing up prey.
'So they took the bait.'
Wi Jicheon suppressed a grin and feigned nervousness.
"Who are you, sir?"
"I am the Zhejiang Blood Sword, Eun Sowee. There's somewhere we need to go. Follow me."
Eun Sowee was a name well-known in the southern martial world.
He was on the verge of the Apex Realm, able to produce rudimentary sword energy — one step above the leader of the Black Ghost Sect, Jang Sam, who had yet to even glimpse such mastery.
In short, a high-level martial artist respected wherever he went.
And yet—
"No thanks, you bastard."
"…What?"
Eun Sowee blinked.
Had he heard that correctly?
Did this boy just call him—?
For a moment, he thought his ears were deceiving him.
Then Wi Jicheon tilted his head and continued, voice dripping with mockery.
"And who the hell do you think you are? Zhejiang Blood Sword? Don't make me laugh. All bark, no bite. Maybe you'll start thinking straight after I beat the snot out of you."
"This little brat…!"
Eun Sowee's hand shot up.
He had been told to bring the boy unharmed, but no demonic cultivator could tolerate such an insult.
Besides, he wasn't the type to go easy on children.
"I'll teach you some manners!"
He lunged forward.
But—
'What?'
His palm cut through empty air.
'He dodged?'
Before he could react—
"Help! Somebody help!"
The boy's shrill cry rang out.
"This bastard's trying to kidnap me!"
"Y-you wretch!"
They were in a deserted alley, but Wi Jicheon's voice carried.
Eun Sowee panicked and reached out to grab him, but the boy slipped away with effortless ease.
"Help! Someone save me!"
He danced out of reach, darting just far enough to frustrate pursuit.
He wasn't even moving particularly fast — just enough to stay ahead.
Soon, onlookers began gathering.
"Isn't that the Divine Healer Clan's young master?"
"And that man— that's the Zhejiang Blood Sword! A guest of the Southern Heavy House!"
"They're trying to harm the Divine Healer Clan's boy!"
"Shut up!" Eun Sowee barked.
But the murmurs spread like wildfire.
And then—
Tap.
A heavy voice cut through the chaos.
"What's going on here?"
Eun Sowee turned.
"Who are you?"
"I am Jang Sam of the Black Ghost Sect."
The man's face twisted into a scowl.
"Wi Jicheon is my benefactor — the man who set me on a righteous path. I won't let anyone harm him."
'Damn it. That brat's using me again!' Jang Sam thought bitterly.
Of course, his appearance was no coincidence.
Wi Jicheon had orchestrated this too.
"The Black Ghost Sect's hero is here!" someone shouted.
"Long live Hero Jang Sam!"
Eun Sowee's lips curled into a sneer.
"So, a fellow demonic cultivator. Then you should know the first rule of our kind — never challenge someone stronger than yourself."
He wasn't wrong.
And yet Jang Sam stood his ground.
Under normal circumstances, he would never have dared face Eun Sowee.
But this wasn't his choice.
"Ha! Jang Sam will beat you up, mister! You can do it, Uncle Jang!"
'Shut up!'
"Silence!"
Both men shouted at once — though only Jang Sam did so inwardly, through clenched teeth.
"You'll regret stepping in," Eun Sowee hissed.
A dark, murky sword aura flared from his blade.
He meant to end it in a single blow.
The killing intent was suffocating — strong enough to make Jang Sam's face go pale.
'Right side, downward angle. Second form of the Revised Ghost Soul Heaven Technique.'
"!!"
Jang Sam moved.
His leg swept upward from below, smooth and fluid — like a true ghost soul.
A move impossible in the old version of his technique.
If it landed, his kick would strike Eun Sowee's head before the sword aura could cleave him apart.
"You—!"
Eun Sowee's eyes widened.
He jerked his blade back, aborting the attack.
But the problem was the sword energy he had already released.
His inner flow faltered — his qi knotted mid-channel.
Not enough to wound him, but enough to disrupt his movement.
At that moment, Wi Jicheon struck.
Fwish!
A flick of his finger — Wind through the Finger.
No one even saw it.
The gust struck precisely the meridian where Eun Sowee's qi had tangled.
"!!"
Blood veins bulged in Eun Sowee's eyes.
'W-what…? A master? Someone's attacking!'
That level of control — pinpointing an opponent's inner flow — was something only a fully realized Apex master could achieve.
Then his gaze met Wi Jicheon's.
The boy's finger was still raised, pointed directly at him.
'No… it can't be!'
But he had no time to finish the thought.
"For daring to harm my benefactor," Jang Sam growled, "take this!"
CRACK!
His fist smashed into Eun Sowee's face with a sound like breaking stone.
It was a blow packed with fury and humiliation — all the resentment of a man used like a pawn.
Broad daylight.
A demonic swordsman attempting to kidnap a child.
The entire city of Namyang erupted.
"Has the Southern Heavy House lost its mind?"
"They call themselves healers, yet act like beasts! How can such a place claim the title of physician?"
Even the corrupt and jaded had lines they would not cross — and this incident shattered them.
"Damn it all!"
Geum Yeohwi slammed his desk.
"Deny everything! Say we only invited the boy to talk!"
"Clan Lord, witnesses saw the Zhejiang Blood Sword attack him with martial arts… we can't spin it that way."
"Then blame it all on that idiot!" Geum Yeohwi roared.
"Say it was his doing alone! I never gave him any such order!"
"B-but…"
"There's no proof I told him to kidnap anyone! Dump the blame on him. He's just a stray dog — no connections, no witnesses. What's there to fear?"
"…Understood."
The steward swallowed hard.
'Is this really the right path?'
It felt like they were sinking deeper into a swamp — one step at a time.
Ever since they crossed paths with the Divine Healer Clan…
No, to be precise—
'Ever since that boy appeared.'
Wi Jicheon.
The root of all their current misery.
It made no sense.
The Divine Healer Clan was nothing compared to them.
Smaller, weaker, insignificant.
A minor healer family that should have been crushed underfoot — until that boy turned everything upside down.
He had somehow won over Jang Sam of the Black Ghost Sect.
He had rallied the Beggars' Union.
He had forced an impossible deal over huanglian and Five Wood Seeds.
And now, he had humiliated the Southern Heavy House in broad daylight.
The steward trembled.
'Jang Sam appeared at just the right time, as if he'd been waiting. It's like… a trap.'
A chill ran down his spine.
'Wi Jicheon isn't some fool. He's a sleeping dragon — and we just tugged its whiskers.'
But they still didn't understand.
What they had seen so far was only the faintest shadow of the terror that Wi Jicheon truly embodied.
In his previous life, there had been a reason the world had called him one of the Three Calamities — alongside the Blood Demon and the Heavenly Demon.
Drip. Drip.
Late at night.
Water dripped from the ceiling of the underground prison beneath Namyang's constable office.
Eun Sowee sat slumped in a cell, eyes half-open.
He heard footsteps.
"Hmm?"
He lifted his head — and froze.
Wi Jicheon was standing before the bars.
"H-how did you—? How did you get in here?"
No one entered the prison without permission.
Wi Jicheon said nothing.
Eun Sowee suddenly realized how unnaturally quiet it was.
He couldn't sense the guards.
No breathing. No footsteps. Nothing.
And then he saw the boy's eyes — cold, tranquil, and bottomless.
The same eyes that had haunted him since that inexplicable flick of the finger.
"W-why are you here?" he stammered.
"Eun Sowee," Wi Jicheon said softly. "In Zhejiang, you killed an innocent farmer while drunk. You fled, committed countless other crimes across the provinces, and finally hid behind the Southern Heavy House. Correct?"
"W-what does that have to do with—?"
"Because you're going to die now. And killing you won't trouble my conscience."
"…What?"
"Well, not that my conscience is anything pure."
Shhk.
Blood burst from Eun Sowee's throat.
He gurgled, clutching at his neck.
He wasn't dead yet — Wi Jicheon had cut him deliberately shallow.
He would bleed out slowly, painfully.
"S-spare me…"
He reached out with trembling hands.
Wi Jicheon caught one gently, crouched, and dipped his finger into the pooling blood.
On the stone floor, he wrote a single character.
金 — Geum.
The surname of Geum Yeohwi.
The message was unmistakable.
The mastermind behind his death — and the true criminal — was the head of the Southern Heavy Healer House.
And with that single stroke of blood, the Southern Heavy House's downfall began.