Survival Guide for the Reincarnated-Chapter 102
“Yang Jongmyeong.”
“...Y-yes, Lord Hyeon Seollin.”
“Can you swear that not a single word you spoke to me was a lie?”
“...Of course...”
Without hesitation, Unwi pulled out brush and paper from the inkstone table.
“Write.”
Yang Jongmyeong didn’t need to ask what he was supposed to write.
With trembling hands, he quietly began writing out names.
Affiliations, ages, current cultivation levels.
In total, twelve names were listed.
It was... quite a lot.
Unwi received the list and slowly rose from his seat, drawing the sword at his waist.
“Do you stake your clan’s fate on this? Can you swear this list is also the truth?”
“...Yes... it is the truth. I’ve listed every name I know. They... won’t be able to deny it.”
Yang Jongmyeong lifted his head.
“Please end it with my life alone. I harbored foolish ambition.”
“If you’ve told me no lies, it will end that way.”
Without hesitation, Unwi brought his sword down.
Jjeo-geo-geok—!
With a chilling sound, Yang Jongmyeong’s head split in two.
Unwi turned his body.
There were eyes glaring at him.
It was the Yakju division members.
Unwi gave a small smirk.
“Am I displeasing to you?”
Some of them scowled, as if to say “is that even a question?”—but what came next made their eyes widen.
“These stupid bastards still don’t understand the situation.”
“......”
“The Yakju division lord has been in bed with the Original Blood Sect. Not only did he report on the movements of the Extreme North heirs, he continually leaked information on events in Binghaeju. Do you think Yeop Munjung could’ve done all that alone?”
Several stepped backward.
They understood what he meant.
“I made a deal with Yang Jongmyeong. If what he said is true, the Yang Family Manor will be honored for rooting out spies. Their current prestige, and more to come, is assured. But you—your situation is different.”
A killing intent crept into Unwi’s eyes.
“In a situation where the one who should’ve been controlling Yakju sold out, what were you all doing?”
“...That is...”
“There’s a limit even to stupidity. And—who is the vice division lord?”
At that, a man who had kept his head bowed in a corner stepped forward.
“Name.”
“...So Jinsoo.”
“I’ll give you a chance to live.”
So Jinsoo blinked at Unwi’s words.
“Come here.”
Without a word, So Jinsoo approached. Unwi held out the list to him.
As he read through it name by name, his eyes widened at one point—and he turned to glare at two of the Yakju division members.
Unwi’s voice pierced his ear.
“If you’re not an idiot, and if you want to take the position of next division lord—you’d best act.”
He gulped hard.
So Jinsoo turned his head and looked at Unwi.
“The role of division lord is one of responsibility. And you must be resolute. Even if it’s your own man, if he commits a crime, you must have the heart to cut him down without mercy.”
“Ah...”
“Your future isn’t mine to decide. It’s yours. The only thing I can offer is an opportunity. Whether you seize it or throw it away is your choice.”
His eyes trembled.
Hyeon Seollin, Seol Unwi...
He’d only heard that he had changed—this was his first time seeing it for himself.
And he was this fearsome?
“I’ll show you what to do. Cheonpung.”
“Yes.”
“The second from the left among the Yakju division members. Kill him.”
That man had been one of the two So Jinsoo had glared at.
Cheonpung didn’t ask or hesitate.
He immediately dashed forward and brought his sword down on the man Unwi had pointed out.
“W-why are you doing this?!”
Startled, the man drew his sword and swung.
KWAANG—!!
With a deafening crash, the man’s sword was completely shattered, and his body flew backward and slammed into a pillar.
As he lifted his head—
Strangely, faint red smoke was seeping from both his eyes. A clear trace of blood qi.
Cheonpung grinned as he thrust his blade forward.
Fwoop—!
The sword sank into the man’s throat.
BOOM—!!
He exploded.
“It's done.”
Unwi nodded, then looked forward and continued.
“There are eleven names left on that list. Can you see them?”
“...Yes. I see them.”
“The main palace doesn’t yet know what’s happening in Yakju. Depending on how you handle those eleven today, that report may change.”
So Jinsoo clenched his fists tightly.
“They are traitors to Seolgung—and to Snow Mountain. Kill them all. But if any of them can be tied to others, use that to your advantage. Understood?”
“...Yes. Understood.”
Satisfied, Unwi began to walk away. Blood-soaked Cheonpung followed behind him.
As they walked toward the carriage, Unwi paused and spoke briefly.
“So Jinsoo. Remember that name.”
Thud—his heart sank.
Seol Unwi.
He was clearly a man destined for greatness.
To have his name remembered by such a man... could be an extraordinary opportunity.
So Jinsoo respectfully cupped his fists.
“I will carry out Lord Hyeon Seollin’s orders flawlessly.”
“Begin.”
“Understood!”
Unwi turned away and, with a distant expression, spoke to Yang Cheol, who was waiting at the carriage.
“We’re moving.”
“...Where... where shall we go?”
“Sanghwa Pavilion.”
Unwi had no intention of simply weeding out the underlings.
He would uproot it—
From the very root.
***
In a corner of Sanghwa Pavilion, a man was quietly drinking tea.
Even from the way he sat, it was obvious: his height was five cheok and seven chon.
His frame was slim overall, almost resembling a Confucian scholar.
His features were delicate, and his eyes narrow.
On the table before him sat one empty bottle of Bamboo Leaf Green liquor, one full bottle, and a plate of Dongpo pork—half eaten.
Silently, he lifted the full bottle of Bamboo Leaf Green and poured it into an empty cup.
Just as he was about to raise it to his lips—
His hand froze in midair.
It had no choice but to stop.
A man had sat down across from him.
“...Who... are you?”
Even at the scholar’s startled question, the man said nothing.
He simply raised his hand—and from ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) behind him, a massive figure with a blood-stained greatsword strapped to his back handed over an empty cup.
The seated man set the cup down, lifted the Bamboo Leaf Green, and poured it in.
The scholar—
Could not comprehend this situation at all.
He glanced sideways toward the man by the window, wearing a black gat.
That man was also five cheok and seven chon tall.
If he had gone to that man—who looked like he was waiting for someone—it would have made sense. But instead, Hyeon Seollin, Seol Unwi had sat down directly in front of him—someone who had never once shown his face.
Since arriving in Snow Mountain, not a single person had seen his bare face.
So what exactly did he know, to sit here?
Could it really be coincidence?
Seol Unwi swirled the half-filled cup slightly and said,
“Drinking cheap liquor that doesn’t suit you.”
“...I asked who you are.”
“Did you always enjoy asking questions when you already knew the answer?”
“......”
“Bamboo Leaf Green, huh... Well, even this kind of liquor has its own flavor. The bitterness and resentment of the poor—did you enjoy that?”
“You seem to know a bit of poetry.”
The scholar’s voice had changed.
At this point, it would’ve been stranger not to be unsettled.
“Bamboo leaves fall in autumn; the liquor matures in spring. How can this heaven-bestowed drink be called cheap?”
At his words, Unwi smiled coldly.
“Heaven-bestowed liquor... For you to say that, Yuhwarin, is far too generous.”
The scholar’s gaze turned sharp.
His fingers clenched the cup tightly.
It was impossible not to recognize the genius whose name had been spreading across Murim.
And now that he was seeing him in person—it felt strange.
Unwi downed the cup in one go and set it down.
“Liquor is a strange thing. The first cup hides a man’s true nature. The second reveals it.”
He set the empty cup down.
“And the last... can take one’s life.”
“The last takes one’s life...?”
A smile curled at the scholar’s lips.
But it was no longer the smile of a thin, refined man.
“How interesting. Seol Unwi... I didn’t expect you to recognize me. I thought you’d go that way.”
He was, of course, referring to the man by the window, wearing the black gat.
“You mean to test me? You, of all people?”
“...‘of all people’?”
Killing intent bloomed at Yuhwarin’s lips.
His gaze sharpened. His voice, like metal being scraped.
“You didn’t come to find me. I came to find you.”
“Why?”
“To propose a deal.”
“Not worth hearing—but since you came all the way to some rural hole like Yakju just to plant spies, I suppose I’ll listen out of courtesy.”
Yuhwarin spoke.
“Why not join hands with the Original Blood Sect?”
“I refuse.”
“...You could at least pretend to think it over. Isn’t that a bit too reflexive a response?”
“It’s a conclusion I reached after plenty of thought.”
“...If you join the Original Blood Sect, I’ll give you the list of all spies I’ve planted so far. That’s all I can offer, but my superiors will give you more. You’re good at Go—you understand what it means to have more usable stones on the board.”
Unwi stared directly at Yuhwarin.
“You think you’re qualified to offer that?”
“...What do you mean?”
“You speak as if you’ve been entrusted with full authority—but you’re just a grunt planting spies in the outer regions of Murim.”
As he filled his cup again, Unwi continued.
“Know your place. You’re nothing but a Harmonization Realm assassin from Yuhonmun. Just because you work for the Original Blood Sect doesn’t make you one of its believers—and for someone like you to speak as if representing the sect’s will is laughable.”
He downed the cup.
Then slowly set it down, his gaze locked on Yuhwarin’s cold face.
“Offended?”
“...Not pleased.”
“Of course not. Every word was true, after all. But you were the one who ran wild without knowing your station. That discomfort you feel—you brought it on yourself.”
“...What is this? You seem to know quite a lot about the sect’s internal structure... How does a bastard of Seolgung know so much?”
Unwi shook his head.
“You asked the first question. Now it’s my turn.”
Yuhwarin let out a low chuckle.
“Go ahead.”
“A petty assassin who slinks through shadows dares infiltrate Snow Mountain and turn Seolgung’s warriors against one another. A worm who can’t even act in daylight dares crawl upward without knowing his place.”
“...And?”
“What would you do?”
“...I’d crush them beneath my heel.”
“Exactly. Glad you understand.”
A cold smile formed at the corner of Unwi’s lips.
“Ghost Soul Pavilion Lord, Yuhwarin—I came to crush you.”
No further words were necessary.
Unwi drew his sword and brought it crashing down.
KWA-AANG—!!
The wine pavilion collapsed.
