Chapter 479: I Don’t Believe in Legends (15)

As they walked deeper inside, the tunnel opened into a fairly broad stone chamber.

Several groups of martial artists had staked out spots, staring intently at the newcomers—then, seeing who it was, their faces fell with disappointment, and they turned back to their hushed conversations.

What the hell? What is this?

Qing scanned the chamber.

There was a cluster that looked like the Ironblood Sect types—or whatever evil-path bunch they were. A handful of loners, sitting in twos and threes, watching but not moving.

And then—hm? What’s this?

Qing noticed a peculiar arrangement in one corner.

One man was sprawled on the ground on hands and knees. Another knelt before the wall, body tilted awkwardly, serving as backrest.

And atop them—sitting on the man like a chair, lounging against the other man’s back as though it were the most natural seat in the world, legs elegantly crossed—was a woman.

Before her, a third man knelt, offering up a saucer with both hands.

The woman took a loud sip of tea, then set the cup back down on the saucer.

It was, unmistakably, Joo Ayo Lee Hyhye.

Once you heard that name—or was it the epithet?—you didn’t forget it.

She had been at the West Gate earlier, but after that collapsed, she must have come down here to the South Gate.

But what the hell is this? Some pampered noble lady routine?

Qing was openly dumbfounded, when Joo Ayo turned her head and caught her eyes.

She glanced left and right at Qing’s party, then gave a nod.

“Hey, young lady. You’ve got five there?”

It was Qing, hidden under the Human-Skin Mask. To Joo Ayo, she was a stranger.

“Uh—yes?”

“Perfect. We can go together. You know who I am, right?”

“Aren’t you Miss Jo?”

Qing tried bluffing.

She couldn’t remember clearly whether Joo Ayo was her name or her epithet, so she picked one.

“...It’s Lee Hyhye. Joo Ayo’s the epithet.”

Fifty-fifty—and she picked wrong.

She had figured Joo Ayo was the name and her epithet would be something like “Subscribe.” But no.

“Anyway, want to go with me?”

At that, another group burst out.

“Hold it, young lady! That’s not what we agreed!”

It was a gang of four men standing nearby.

But Lee Hyhye only shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but women understand one another. Female warriors should stand together.”

The men flushed red.

In other words: I don’t trust you four bastards as far as I can throw you.

“Wait. Go where?”

“Oh, right. Look there.”

Lee Hyhye pointed toward one wall of the chamber.

There was a row of doorframes, each fitted with a sealed stone door.

Five of the doors were marked with big crosses, leaving ten still intact.

On the wall, an inscription read:

“Ten shall form a company to open a gate.”

“When ten stand before a door, it opens. Everyone’s been waiting because they don’t have the numbers. How about it? If your five and my four go together, we just need one more.”

“...What the hell is this?”

Qing was aghast.

Was this a dungeon crawl? An escape room?

Groups of ten per door?

Apparently, everyone had been waiting because they didn’t want to split from their original companions.

Who would willingly step into a suspicious tomb with strangers?

“Hold on, let me talk it over.”

Qing gathered her party.

“So, what do we do?”

Namgung Sinjae spoke first.

“If we must reach ten, it’d be better to pick off loners and fill the numbers that way. Then, if fighting breaks out, we’ll hold the advantage—five against ones and twos. And naturally, that puts us in the lead.”

But Elder Cheon Yuhak countered.

“If they’re loners, it means they’re confident in their own strength. Better not to invite such people. A whole group is safer—they’ll plot only among themselves, and it’s easier to spot their tricks.”

One vote for recruiting loners. One vote for joining with Lee Hyhye’s crew.

Qing looked around at the rest.

“I’ll just go with whatever you say, unni.”

Jin Jangmyeong threw her vote away—essentially handing it to Qing.

So, with her two votes, Qing had the deciding power.

Which meant Murong Juhee had no say.

Still, Qing thought, she’ll be sulky if I don’t at least ask.

But Murong Juhee was... distracted.

Her eyes, filled with a strange mixture of yearning and admiration, were fixed elsewhere.

Qing followed her gaze.

Her target was none other than Lee Hyhye—lounging on her human furniture throne.

“Uh... Lady Mu-yang?”

This was the problem with aliases. Call someone by it, and they wouldn’t even realize you were speaking to them.

Especially when it was freshly minted.

“Lady Mu-yang. Hey. Lady Mu-yang?”

Qing nudged her.

Murong Juhee startled.

“Ah—m-me?”

“What are you staring at? Legs hurt? Do you want to sit like that too?”

“N-no! Not that! I mean—uh—no! Nothing! But if you—if you want me to, I’ll do it! Whatever you want, just say it!”

Uh-huh. Not listening to a word.

Meanwhile, all eyes in the chamber were on them.

More precisely, all eyes were on Murong Juhee’s chest.

Too bad it was only padding. But without x-ray vision, how could anyone tell?

Some men stared openly, leering. Others tried sneaking glances, pretending not to.

By comparison, Lee Hyhye’s three followers were steady as rocks—playing their roles as furniture without a flicker.

Qing made up her mind.

“We’ll go with that lady’s group. That makes nine. Just need one more.”

She strode decisively toward a group of men squatting near the floor—ogling Murong Juhee’s fake curves.

The men blinked up at her blankly.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, don’t mind me. Keep resting. I just need something.”

And she grabbed one man by the hair.

Snatched him up like a sack.

“Waaagh!? Wh-what!?”

“Don’t move! I’ll cut your throat.”

“Urk.”

He froze at the chill of a blade against his neck.

“What are you doing!?”

“Release our brother!”

His three companions—the rest of the Gonyang Four Dogs—leapt to their feet, weapons drawn.

But too late. Qing already had the third brother in her grasp, dagger pressed against his throat.

“Miss Jo! What are you waiting for? Get ready!”

“Huh? Me? What the—what is going on? And it’s Lee, not Jo—”

“Enough! We’re five, you’re four, and we’ve got one! That makes ten! Move!”

“You can’t just—”

“So you’re not coming? Going to abandon your fellow woman? Didn’t you say women should stick together?”

“I-I’ll come! But it’s Lee, not—”

“Easy, easy! Don’t move! Hey, what’s your name?”

“A-An Yun-juk. I’m An Yunjuk.”

“You coming with us, or going to hell? With us, or dead?”

“I’ll go! Just don’t kill me—”

“Hear that? This guy’s with us! You lot stay here. We’re off to find treasure.”

The three elder brothers of the Gonyang Four Dogs were flustered beyond words.

One moment, their third brother was sitting there. The next, some lunatic woman had snatched him away at knifepoint.

They sputtered, but An Yunjuk was already being dragged off.

“Put him down, now!” the eldest roared.

Qing raised a brow.

“Or else what?”

He opened and closed his mouth. He had no answer.

“If you release him now, we’ll pretend nothing happened—”

“And if I don’t?”

“W-well—”

“See? Nothing to say. Besides, An Yunjuk himself says he wants to come with us. Don’t you?”

“Y-yes! Just ease up with the knife—”

“There. Settled. Don’t move!”

The moment the brothers edged closer, Qing pressed the dagger tighter.

“Aaagh! Brothers, don’t move! Don’t!”

An Yunjuk panicked, begging them to hold back.

So Qing, dragging her hostage, retreated step by step.

At last, ten people stood before one of the doors:

Five from Qing’s group.

Four from Lee Hyhye’s.

And the unwilling tenth, An Yunjuk.

The stone door rumbled and began to rise.

The Gonyang Four Dogs stamped and fumed, helpless, as Qing’s party plus one slipped inside.

Then—KWA-RUNG!

Another massive stone slab crashed down, sealing the entrance behind them.

****

Lee Hyhye’s thoughts were in turmoil.

She had wanted to join Qing’s group because, compared to gangs of grim-faced men, this party looked gentle, balanced.

But now—gentle? My ass. They had filled the missing slot in the most violent way possible.

“What on earth were you thinking?”

“We were short one.”

“Couldn’t you just ask someone properly?”

“Please. Anyone willing to come alone must be absurdly confident. Better to drag in some random weakling than risk a hidden master, don’t you think?”

“...Huh?”

Lee Hyhye tilted her head.

Put that way—it did make a certain sense.

“They must have made it ten for a reason. Hey, An Sohyeop, could you loosen up that expression? People will think we forced you.”

An Yunjuk’s face darkened.

Qing only grinned.

“What’s with that look? You don’t want to come? Fine. You’re free now.”

“What...?”

“We won’t hold you. Why drag along someone who doesn’t want to be here?”

But what good was freedom?

The stone gate had already slammed shut behind them. There was only one path forward.

An Yunjuk’s shoulders sagged in despair.