Absolute Warrior V2C1: Ingenuity
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A carriage rattled along a quiet country road. The middle-aged coachman, tasked with ferrying the Association's personnel, yawned frequently, though he managed the carriage with practiced skill.
He spent most of his day on the coachman's seat, so he always looked forward to driving talkative martial artists. Although their boasts tended to sound the same—for some reason, literally everyone had once been driven to the edge of a cliff while fighting seventeen Evil Coalition martial artists alone—but even so, listening to tales of tough battles and chewing on spirit beast cores made the days go by faster, and the destination feel closer.
Of course, not every day turned out that way. He often transported taciturn martial artists who hardly spoke at all too.
Nevertheless, he had never met a martial artist quite like the one behind him right now.
The coachman glanced over his shoulder. The small window between his seat and the carriage interior was shut.
This is so weird.
He shook his head. Actually, this martial artist was more impressive than weird… because he not shown himself or left the carriage for ten whole days.
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The coachman wondered what he ate and how he survived without taking a shit. Moreover, due to this customer's refusal to leave the carriage, he hadn't been able to rest at an inn either. Most nights, he just parked in roadside clearings and made camp… for himself only.
Several times, he wanted to complain about the inconvenience, yet the mood was never right… because every time he thought about it, he would hear screams of pain or sickly moans from inside the carriage.
Whenever he asked the man if he was all right, however, the response he got was always the same: "Yes, I'm fine."
By now, he had given up trying to unravel the mystery. Instead, he drove onward at full speed like someone possessed. They were nearly at their destination, and the earlier this bizarre ghost driving ordeal ended, the better.
Anyway, the person inside the creaking carriage was none other than Crimson Tiger.
He had hung a small bronze mirror on the carriage's interior wall, and it now revealed his true face, one he had never shown anyone at the Association.
Unlike his Phantom persona, his eyes were gentle and his features kind. He wasn't especially handsome, yet still pleasant to look at.
How long has it been? I can hardly recognize my own face.
Gazing at the bronze mirror, Crimson Tiger circulated his qi in line with the Thousand Transformations Hundred Faces Art. Little by little, his features began to shift.
Fortunately, unlike the past ten days, he neither screamed nor made any strange moans.
As it turned out, the Thousand Transformations Hundred Faces Art was not easy to master. After ten days of effort, he had only managed to create one new face. At least, as Eom Baekyang had pointed out, he didn't need a hundred different faces for this mission, so this was enough. These ten days of grueling training had been worth it.
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Seeing the handsome face of a man in his early twenties in the mirror, Crimson Tiger smiled in satisfaction. This stage of achievement was something most martial artists would never reach in a mere ten days. However, having fully mastered the Asura's Eight Narakas, his strong martial arts foundation allowed him to pick up new skills at a remarkable pace.
He still couldn't alter his appearance in a flash, but he could shift it into this new guise in about five minutes. Also, since he had pulled off one successful transformation, adopting another person's face was possible as long as he studied their features carefully.
For the first time in days, Crimson Tiger asked the coachman, "How much farther?"
"We'll arrive in around three hours."
"Understood."
Crimson Tiger thought his voice sounded a bit too deep for his youthful appearance, but there was nothing he could do about it. Changing his voice was too challenging.
Anyway, by now, he had realized that the manual for the Thousand Transformations Hundred Faces Art was well worth taking on this mission. It was a martial art whose value could not be measured in mere gold.
Still, it was too risky to carry such a text around, so he had memorized it and then burned it. All he needed now was time to refine his technique.
Then again, he wondered if he would ever truly need a hundred faces, and whether a life requiring that many disguises could ever be a happy one.
Crimson Tiger believed that it was not. If he had the freedom to choose, he would rather use his real face all the time.
"Let's take a short break," the coachman suggested.
"Understood."
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They stopped at a small clearing to let the horses rest, and the coachman dashed into the trees to relieve himself.
Crimson Tiger spoke softly to the air outside the carriage. "Yeon, are you there?"
"Yes," Yeon replied.
"…Do you want to come in for a bit?" Crimson Tiger asked, blinking in confusion. Is she perched on the carriage roof, riding a horse, or using movement arts?
Normally, Yeon would have refused close contact with him because of the regulations, but this time, she popped open the carriage door and stepped inside.
Her mouth fell open in surprise.
"Wow! You look so much younger!"
"Does it suit me?"
"You look so handsome. Like a noble young master. No, you could even pass as a teenager."
"Don't I look too weak?"
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"Hm, now that you mention it… if you made your eyes a little bit narrower…"
"I can't do that yet."
Laughing, Yeon eyed Crimson Tiger curiously, clearly fascinated by his transformation.
Crimson Tiger allowed her to take a closer look. He knew that she must have guessed that this was not the work of a simple human skin mask, but she never asked what martial art he used.
Her ability to suppress her curiosity is one of her best qualities.
Noticing that Yeon's ears were flushed, likely from the cold, he asked concernedly, "Did you run here with your movement arts, or were you hanging onto the carriage roof?"
Yeon flashed a cheeky grin. "That's a trade secret. Anyway, why did you call for me?"
"Tell me everything you know about the Nine Ironblood Brigades," Crimson Tiger said. While he had studied the basic information, he still wanted to compare it with Yeon's personal opinion.
"Everything I know, you already know."
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"Tell me anyway."
"All right. The Nine Ironblood Brigades form the elite assault force that the Evil Coalition has been nurturing. Altogether, there are a hundred members. Each Brigade has eleven men, which adds up to ninety-nine, plus the Ironblood Commander to reach one hundred. Of those nine, the First Brigade that backs up the Ironblood Commander is the absolute cream of the crop."
"Continue."
"The Nine Ironblood Brigades hold a test once a year to replace any vacancies. Their open recruitment is a kind of show of strength."
"What about those who take the test?"
"First, they impose an age limit of fifteen to thirty-five, which helps them select younger and more capable fighters. If candidates are too old, they often become independent or rebellious. Statistics also show that about half the participants are from the Evil Coalition, while the other half come from unorthodox sects outside the Coalition.
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"The test is notoriously dangerous, and it claims many lives each year. More than a hundred die annually, yet the number of applicants only continues to rise."
Crimson Tiger nodded. This approach was a clever way to appeal to a martial artist's appetite for risk. Somehow, the more life-threatening it was, the more determined they were to attempt it. This was especially true for those from unorthodox backgrounds, who tended to be bolder and more competitive than orthodox martial artists.
"How strong is the Ironblood Commander?"
"As far as we know, he's among the top thirty martial artists in the Evil Coalition, but that information isn't certain."
"What about compared to me?"
"It won't be too difficult for you to assassinate him. However, in a direct confrontation, or if you were attacked first…"
"You're not sure?"
"To be honest, I think it would be a hard fight."
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Crimson Tiger took Yeon's words seriously. She was the one person outside of his circle who understood his martial arts the most, so he believed her assessment. Of course, she didn't know the full extent of his abilities, but she must have realized that he had more than a few hidden techniques and taken them into account.
"What's the competition like for the test?"
"It will be intense, but I doubt you'll have any trouble passing. The real problem begins once you're officially recruited. Since the Nine Brigades is one of the Evil Coalition's main forces, their countermeasures against infiltration are top-notch.
"Anyway, the test itself spans several days, similar to a training camp. As you should already know, I've signed you up under the name Yang Hyeon.
"According to the information we received, Yang Hyeon is twenty-five years old, and his master, Sa Bigeom, from whom he inherited the Swift Sword Flurry, passed away seven years ago. The Swift Sword Flurry is similar to your own swift sword style, and I trust you've reviewed the martial arts manual, right?"
"I should be able to mimic it," Crimson Tiger replied confidently. With the Thousand Transformations Hundred Faces Art, he felt reassured. No matter what methods the Coalition employed, they would never discover his altered face. This was arguably the greatest disguise art of all time.
"Then you're more or less good to go. Sa Bigeom was a hermit who never ventured out into the murim, so nobody will recognize his sword style. A decent approximation should suffice."
"What happened to the real Yang Hyeon?"
"He died two years ago. We've been saving his identity information for future use."
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As expected of the ever-prepared Mystery Pavilion. They keep a supply of false identities for when they're needed. Nodding, Crimson Tiger asked, "What about you?"
"We have an operations base near their headquarters, disguised as a bookstore. I'll stay there on standby. Once you go inside, though, it will be impossible for me to reach out to you."
"So I'll be on my own for a while?" Crimson Tiger teased.
Yeon gave him a faint smile, though Crimson Tiger felt a strange emptiness at the idea of her absence.
Just then, the coachman's footsteps sounded in the distance.
"I should get going," Yeon whispered, preparing to exit the carriage.
Crimson Tiger held her back. "It'll be difficult to keep up. You can ride in here with me."
"That's against the rules, but I appreciate the thought," Yeon said with a small smile, then hopped out of the carriage.
Crimson Tiger's lips curved into a gentle smile. He was the one who truly felt grateful.
"I'm departing now," the coachman announced.
The carriage started moving again.
"…Yang Hyeon." Crimson Tiger murmured the name several times before opening the document detailing his false identity, a mild sense of tension creeping in.
He would have to live as Yang Hyeon for quite some time, but although he was an expert in assassinations and support missions, he had little experience in infiltration. Even when he had to disguise himself, he never stayed undercover for long.
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He inhaled deeply to steady his nerves, recalling his master's words.
"Do you know what matters most in learning martial arts? Breathing. Proper breathing leads to proper movement. This doesn't just apply to martial arts. Whenever you begin something new, the first step is to calm your heart and take a deep breath. Even if you feel fearful or confused, start by taking that single breath. It will show you the road you must walk and the duty you must fulfill."
Indeed, breathing was paramount. It steadied his heart, and once his heart was steady, new thoughts and ideas would emerge on their own.
An hour after Yeon had left, the carriage arrived at its destination, and Crimson Tiger stepped out.
Immediately, the coachman stumbled back and landed on his butt, gaping in surprise. "Who are you?" he blurted out.
Crimson Tiger smiled. His transformation appeared to be a total success. "Don't panic. I'm just wearing a human skin mask," he assured.
"Ah! Oh, right."
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"Thank you for all your hard work. Stay safe on the trip home."
Crimson Tiger gave the coachman a tip of five taels as compensation for the unsettling ordeal he had been forced to endure over the past ten days.
The coachman instantly broke into a wide grin, though he continued to stare at Crimson Tiger, clearly intrigued.
Crimson Tiger's smile widened. The coachman's reaction confirmed just how astounding the Thousand Transformations Hundred Faces Art was.
The carriage trundled away, leaving Crimson Tiger finally alone.
He gazed in silence at the distant road. From this point onward, he stood on Evil Coalition soil.
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A tense atmosphere permeated the Radiant Hall as everyone held their breath, staring silently but intently at the wall with the message mechanism.
Looking restless, Eom Baekyang poured himself a cup of cold tea and gulped it down.
The cause of this tension was a rescue request from Black Sheep. Like Green Snake, who had escaped earlier, Black Sheep had infiltrated the Evil Coalition for espionage purposes, but his identity had also been compromised.
Rescue missions for Phantoms were not always assigned to fellow Phantoms. In this case, the closest Vanguard Regiment, made up of fearless and experienced warriors who fought on the front lines of conflict with the Evil Coalition, had been dispatched.
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Typically, the closer a branch was to the Evil Coalition's territory, the more formidable its martial artists were. As such, the martial artists sent to save the day were the very finest of the Vanguard Regiment—comprising three squads of ten warriors each.
Everyone waited with breathless anticipation. An update should be arriving soon.
"Looks like the Radiant Hall is doomed to misfortune this year," Im Yeongdal grumbled.
"Hey! There's power in words. Don't jinx us," Hong Sabaek snapped.
"It's still true."
"And a fortune teller told me yesterday that we're doomed and everyone will be killed, starting with someone named Im."
"Alright, alright. I take it back."
Eom Baekyang, who had been pacing agitatedly, sank into a chair and let out a long sigh. It was not the Radiant Hall that was cursed, it was him. Ever since he got involved in the succession war between the First Young Lord and the Third Young Lady, he had felt as if disaster was following him wherever he went.
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Suddenly, the wall mechanism whirred and stopped at the image of a sheep.
"Black Sheep has failed to rendezvous with the Vanguard Regiment and has veered off to the west," Im Yeongdal recited.
"What?" Eom Baekyang sprang to his feet. "Give me the full report."
"The Vanguard Regiment never showed up at the rendezvous point."
"Damn it! What's going on here? Contact the Vanguard Regiment again. Who the hell is chasing him?"
It made no sense. Black Sheep was more than capable of handling the average pursuer, so why had it come to this?
The mechanism rotated once more, this time landing on the word 'Association'.
Im Yeongdal's face darkened as he read the message.
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Eom Baekyang held back his anxiety. "What is it?" he asked, trying to remain as calm as he could.
Im Yeongdal replied solemnly, "We've lost contact with the Vanguard Regiment."
"They couldn't have been wiped out, could they?"
"I'm afraid so."
Eom Baekyang slammed his fist on the desk. "Damn it!"
He walked over to the map on the wall. The flags were arranged in a ring around the Association's domain, but none were close enough to save Black Sheep.
Strangely, there were only eleven flags. As Crimson Tiger's current mission was highly classified, only him and the director had been briefed, so there was no marker for him in the main office.
Gu Yangseo knocked on the wall. Glancing back, Eom Baekyang saw Gu Yangseo motioning for him to come inside.
"Contact the Vanguard Regiment again. Send a handler to Black Sheep's next rendezvous point!" Eom Baekyang shouted, then strode into the director's office.
Like the main office, the director's office also had a device for incoming updates, and its dial rested on a picture of a tiger. It would remain there until Crimson Tiger completed his mission.
"I just received a message that Crimson Tiger has entered the Evil Coalition's territory."
"Phew! He's just in time."
Gu Yangseo smiled. Tomorrow, the entrance test for the Nine Ironblood Brigades would begin. There had been some obstacles, but nevertheless, they had managed to send Crimson Tiger to the destination on time.
Although it was unfortunate that Yagong had meddled at the last moment, it did not matter now. The only reports Yagong would receive concerned the Ironblood Commander's assassination. Even Crimson Tiger's handler knew nothing about Baek Sowoon.
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Eom Baekyang conveyed the status in the office. "Black Sheep couldn't link up with the Vanguard Regiment."
"Is that so?" Gu Yangseo replied absentmindedly.
Eom Baekyang gnawed at his lip, aware that his boss was not truly paying attention. Right now, Gu Yangseo cared about nothing except Crimson Tiger's mission.
However, at the moment, Crimson Tiger was the nearest to Black Sheep and the only one who stood a chance of rescuing him. If they dispatched him, though, he would most definitely miss the Nine Brigades' exam.
He knew that Gu Yangseo would probably not allow it, but still, Eom Baekyang could not overlook Black Sheep's predicament.
"Regarding Black Sheep…"
Gu Yangseo fixed Eom Baekyang with a hard stare, silently warning him not to lose sight of the larger objective.
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"Fine, I'll just send him additional forces from the Vanguard Regiment," Eom Baekyang conceded.
Gu Yangseo nodded, as though that was the logical response.
Eom Baekyang sighed to himself. He understood Gu Yangseo's stance. It was only natural, since everything hinged on the success of this endeavor.
He glanced toward the tiger image on the wall.
You do your best, too.
The place where the exam would take place was overflowing with martial artists. All the pubs, restaurants, and inns were full, and the streets were lined with all kinds of merchants.
Crimson Tiger weaved through the crowd. On the surface, it was no different from a street in the Association's territory. There were hopeless newcomers, mid-level martial artists who seemed quite capable, old masters whose glares alone could make others cower, handsome young men, and beautiful swordswomen.
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Still, Crimson Tiger knew. Although the people here looked the same, they had completely different sensibilities, having been raised with opposing values and morals.
For one, they were filled with the same hatred for the Association as the Association's members had for the Evil Coalition. To them, the Association was the root of all evil.
Anyway, right now, all of their faces were filled with excitement. The Nine Ironblood Brigades' exam dangerous for the applicants, but a festive event for the spectators. Everyone was talking about who would die and who would be selected.
Crimson Tiger entered a crowded inn. Interestingly enough, all the guests here were martial artists armed to the teeth.
A waiter scurried over. "My apologies, food is still available, but our rooms are fully booked."
"I have a reservation."
"Ah, is that so? May I have your name?"
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"Yang Hyeon."
The waiter flipped through the guest book. "Yang Hyeon, Yang Hyeon… Ah, here it is. Please follow me."
The waiter led Crimson Tiger to a small room with only a bed and a table, but at least there was a window that let in sunlight, making it less stuffy.
"How would you like dinner served?"
"Let me know when it's ready. I'll eat at the restaurant downstairs."
"Understood. We have a lot of orders, so it'll take about an hour."
As the waiter left, Crimson Tiger unpacked his bags. The first things he pulled out were a brown leather holster and a small wooden case. When he opened the case, twenty throwing knives were neatly stacked inside.
Crimson Tiger skillfully took out the throwing knives and placed them in the holster. The twenty throwing knives were placed crisscross, both above and below. Then, he strapped the leather holster across his chest.
Since he used it often, it felt like a part of him. Besides, the holster wasn't just for throwing knives. It was made of tough and sturdy leather, and in combination with the metal throwing knives, it also served as chest armor.
SWOOSH!
Several throwing knives flew from his hand, lining up perfectly along the window frame.
Satisfied, he next took out a flat case the size of his palm and opened it to reveal five thin medicine tubes. There was a general antidote, a hemostat, wound healing balm, and qi recovery medicine. They were all one-use medicines, but they could save his life in an emergency.
He slipped the case into a specialized pouch on the inner side of the holster.
The other items he brought were everyday items, such as a change of clothes, some money, and dried rations in case of an emergency. For the sake of convenience, he put them in a leather satchel.
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Last but not least, he strapped a sword to his waist.
These were the list of items that he always carried with him on missions.
Crimson Tiger walked over to the window, pulled out the throwing knives, and looked out. The street was still swarming with people. He would see these faces again tomorrow at the exam.
His first goal was to pass the exam and infiltrate the Nine Ironblood Brigades, but passing wasn't really the issue. It was more important that he didn't let the Coalition find out about his abilities or his true identity while he was here.
Crimson Tiger stood in front of a small bronze mirror on one of the walls. He could feel the tension in the unfamiliar face. While moderate tension wasn't bad, he couldn't stay this stiff.
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He tried to relax his expression by smiling brightly.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Yang Hyeon," he said politely, practicing his tone of speech.
Unsatisfied, he changed his tone.
"A pleasure to meet you. My name is Yang Hyeon."
Just like that, he practiced different voice tones, both gentle and rough. Through various expressions and tones, the Yang Hyeon in the mirror slowly began to develop his own personality.
When he finished practicing, Crimson Tiger's expression hardened again.
He knew the harsh reality he faced. Killing Baek Sowoon wasn't the end of this mission. The moment he succeeded in killing him, he would be given a new mission.
Not a mission from the Radiant Hall, but a mission given by fate. A mission where the only objective was survival.
Just then, he heard the waiter calling from outside the room, "Sir, your meal is ready downstairs."
"Got it."
Crimson Tiger took his sword and went to the inn's restaurant to see a meal laid out neatly on a corner table.
The place was noisy, and everyone was talking about tomorrow's exam. The two men sitting at the table next to Crimson Tiger seemed to be examinees as well, and they were in the middle of a conversation.
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"I heard that over a hundred people died in last year's exam. Could that be true?"
"Isn't that an exaggeration? Surely a hundred wouldn't die."
"Even the Illusion Dragon of Henan said that he almost died. It's not just a rumor."
"The Illusion Dragon of Henan? Isn't he the most famous rising star in Henan?"
"He said that he'd survived by sheer luck, and that he'll never take the Nine Ironblood Brigade's exam again."
"Still…" The man hesitated. He couldn't believe his acquaintance's words easily.
There were too many exaggerated stories about the Nine Ironblood Brigades' exam. Some said that they made the candidates jump off fifty-foot cliffs, while others said that they herded them all into one place and made them fight to the death.
Those who spread the rumors were usually those who failed. Those who passed disappeared from the jianghu, so naturally, everyone assumed that those who failed had blown things out of proportion.
As a result, very few believed that hundreds died during the exam.
"Is what you're saying really true? Damn, I feel like I've lost all my confidence. If even the Illusion Dragon of Henan failed the exam, then…"
"Still, imagine what kind of fame you'd get if you passed such an exam."
"I guess we just have to pray for good luck. Here, have a drink."
Crimson Tiger ate in silence as he listened to their conversation. He knew that the rumors weren't exaggerated. Sometimes, infamy established authority, and the worse the infamy, the greater the authority. That was the path the Nine Ironblood Brigades had chosen, and it was also the principle behind the Evil Coalition's rule.
There were other conversations, but most of them were similar to the one between the two men. There was no reason to eavesdrop any longer.
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After finishing his meal, Crimson Tiger stood up.
"Did you enjoy your meal?" the waiter who came to clear the plates asked.
Crimson Tiger handed him a coin. "I'm going to rest until tomorrow, so don't wake me up."
"Of course."
Leaving the smiling waiter, Crimson Tiger went back to his room, planning to get a good night's sleep. Starting tomorrow, he would have several tiring days ahead of him. Although many of his competitors were wandering around the inn, hoping to gather useful information, he doubted that he would get anything useful out of them.
Getting a good night's rest was the best course of action.
The next day, martial artists from across the land gathered in front of the Evil Coalition's Lake Chao Branch, which served as the first location for the Nine Ironblood Brigades' exam.
Every martial artist, from teenagers to men in their thirties, had strained but determined expressions on their faces. Their numbers were overwhelming, easily exceeding a thousand at a glance.
Crimson Tiger stood silently among them, avoiding eye contact and doing his best not to attract attention.
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Five large sheets of paper were pinned to the wall of the building. Each sheet was labeled with a number from one to five, and each examinee's name was written alongside an assigned number.
Everyone rushed to check their number. One man cheered because he had drawn a number he liked. Those stuck with number one looked uncomfortable, and those with the last number scowled.
Well, people being people, no one liked being first or last.
Crimson Tiger was number twelve on the third sheet.
DING! DING!
A pair of bell chimes echoed from inside the building, signaling the start of the exam.
The commotion in the crowd ceased, and the door opened at the appointed time.
About thirty examiners stepped out, each wearing an intimidating mask. Their gazes were sharp and fearless, undaunted by the thousands of martial artists gathered before them.
Behind them, several helpers arranged five tables at the entrance. Five examiners then took their seats.
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"Line up according to your number!" one of the examiners shouted.
The examinees lined up in numerical order, with Crimson Tiger standing twelfth in the third row.
"Show us your exam pass and identity tag!"
Starting from the front, they began to verify each person's identity with meticulous precision.
As one of the examiners pored over the documents, he suddenly asked, "What was the name of the dog you raised when you were seven?"
"What?" The man in question looked stunned, as if he couldn't remember.
"Disqualified! Next!" the examiner declared icily.
For a moment, the man blinked in confusion, then he roared, "What kind of crap is this! There's nothing suspicious about my identity!"
SLAM!
The very next moment, he was sent flying backwards.
Glaring down at the man sprawled on the ground, the examiner who had delivered the blow said sternly, "It doesn't matter if you're the real one or not. We don't want people with bad memories!"
Everyone froze in shock, and a ripple of unrest spread through the crowd.
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Just then, a man in his forties stepped forward from behind the examiners. He was Wol Seongcheon, the head of the examiners and the person in charge of this exam.
"Listen up. The Association bastards have recently taken their espionage to new heights, so we're going to be stricter this year. Keep that in mind," he declared.
The Evil Coalition had already done background checks on the candidates and prepared questions that only the real person could answer.
Crimson Tiger's face turned grim. This was unexpected. Based on the previous question, he couldn't succeed just by memorizing Yang Hyeon's profile. Right from the beginning, he had run into a huge roadblock.
At least he wasn't alone. Many others wore equally troubled looks.
Just then, a youth in the adjacent line caught Crimson Tiger's attention. His confident eyes, languid smile, and expensive garments marked him as a descendant of a prestigious clan.
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Crimson Tiger sensed that the young man already knew what he was going to be asked about.
Noticing Crimson Tiger's stare, the young man barked rudely, "Do you have any business with me?"
"No." Crimson Tiger quickly averted his eyes, pretending to be intimidated.
Of course, he had expected this kind of situation. Wherever power was involved, corruption was inevitable.
Anyhow, those who failed these surprise questions were disqualified one by one. Everyone's identity was thoroughly scrutinized, but only about one in three could recall details from the distant past like the name of their neighbor or the largest martial arts academy in their hometown.
The screening dragged on, and finally, it was Crimson Tiger's turn.
"What was the name of the woman you dated when you were fifteen?"
As expected, Crimson Tiger had no way of knowing that.
"Disqua… Ugh!"
Before the examiner could finish talking, Crimson Tiger delivered a vicious kick to his face, sending him crashing to the ground with a scream.
Everyone gaped at him in astonishment.
The examiners behind him brandished their swords and edged closer.
"What do you think you're doing?"
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Crimson Tiger scowled. "Just thinking about that bitch pisses me off!"
Grinding his teeth, he picked up his profile from the desk, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed and swallowed it.
"Even the memory of that slut's name makes me want to tear her to pieces."
The examiner stared at Crimson Tiger in disbelief. "This bastard…"
"Her name was Hong Mae," Crimson Tiger suddenly said.
Flabbergasted, the examiner looked at the fallen examiner, but the examiner shook his head. He had been hit before checking the answer, and Crimson Tiger had already devoured his own profile.
The instructor glared at Crimson Tiger. "Arrest that madman!"
The other examiners prepared to rush forward, when Wol Seongcheon burst into laughter.
"Hahahaha! Aren't you quite the witty one, youngster?"
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Crimson Tiger shrugged. "I get really riled up by things others consider petty sometimes."
"Is that sarcasm I hear? Hahaha!" Laughing heartily, Wol Seongcheon shouted at the examiners, "Let him pass!"
"Understood."
Crimson Tiger smiled inwardly. His spontaneous improvisation had worked. He had hoped to avoid attention, but there was no other way. He couldn't fail right from the start.
Infusing his voice with inner qi, Wol Seongcheon addressed the crowd, "However, only one person gets lucky. From now on, I'll behead anyone who tries to pull the same stunt!"
Several people who planned to imitate Crimson Tiger's tactic frowned.
The identity checks continued, and more were disqualified at the entrance than were allowed in. With the massive turnout, however, more than three hundred still made it through the main gates.
Luck played a large part, and many of those rejected were more skilled than those who passed, but at least the screening process was thorough.
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The examiners didn't care. They only needed to select four this year. If they needed dozens of new members, they might have taken a different approach, but there were still enough martial experts left. Besides, it was no exaggeration to say that luck was a part of one's skill.
In the end, the three hundred who had passed the first stage gathered in a vast training ground.
The examiners stepped forward and handed out some forms. It was a written contract stating that the Evil Coalition would not be held responsible if the candidates were to die during the exam.
The atmosphere grew somber as each person signed, putting their lives on the line.
Some boasted that a man should bet his life on his future, but most anxiously awaited the next stage.
When the last signature was in place, the examiners collected the forms.
Wol Seongcheon stepped onto the dueling platform, and around thirty examiners filed in behind him. Scanning the crowd, who seemed to be holding their breath, he announced calmly, "As you know, the Nine Ironblood Brigades' exam is on a different level from ordinary exams. You all know that, right?"
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"Yes, sir!"
"Do you know how many died taking the exam last year? Exactly ninety-nine. I guarantee that this year's exam will be even more dangerous."
Everyone gulped.
Wol Seongcheon gestured toward the exit. "It's not too late! Those who want to leave, leave now!"
Of course, nobody chose to leave.
"Leaving now doesn't make you a coward. I'm giving you a chance. A chance to stay alive."
Still, not a single person moved. The crowd mentality was in full effect, and it was no simple matter to step forward in this atmosphere.
Wol Seongcheon sneered. "You fearless fools."
He motioned with his hand, and the door they had come through slammed shut, an unspoken sign that there was no turning back now.
The atmosphere tensed.
"First, I'll cut your numbers down by exactly half," Wol Seongcheon stated ominously, then left the platform and entered the building behind it, the examiners following him without a word.
Everyone blinked in confusion, unsure of what was happening.
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When the anxious crowd began to murmur, Crimson Tiger suddenly sensed danger.
SWOOSH! SWOOSH! SWOOSH!
Black iron poles sprang up from the ground, and hidden weapons poured out. It was a mechanism designed to launch hidden weapons. Not training weapons, but real, deadly ones.
"Argh!"
"Dodge!"
Those closest to the poles fell, struck by the hidden weapons. Since no one was expecting a real attack, the casualties skyrocketed quickly.
Fortunately, the martial artists soon regained their senses and scattered in all directions. All this time, hidden weapons swarmed in from all sides, and those who could not dodge them went down.
Crimson Tiger calmly deflected the incoming projectiles with his sword. In truth, the hidden weapons themselves were not his main concern. The deadliest aspect of such weapons was the element of surprise, but these particular projectiles came at a set speed and followed predictable paths.
The real danger came from the panicked martial artists running around, swinging their swords around wildly.
"Argh!" A frantic man lunged at Crimson Tiger with his weapon raised.
Crimson Tiger easily sidestepped the attack. The man behind him struck the attacker down, only to be hit by a hidden weapon moments later.
It was pandemonium.
Crimson Tiger sensed the gazes from the second floor of the building. Wol Seongcheon and the examiners were watching them. There was no need for him to stand out too much, but he shouldn't pretend to be weak either. Moderation was the key.
Just then, Crimson Tiger caught sight of the noble young man from earlier. He was swatting away the hidden weapons with impressive composure, confirming that he possessed real skill.
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A few others who had regained their wits also parried calmly, although a few were hit by the projectiles deflected by others. Most of these incidents were accidents, but not all of them.
Looking around, Crimson Tiger noticed something unexpected. A man was knocking the hidden weapons aside so that each one buried itself in another candidate's body. Strangely, no one else seemed to have noticed what he was doing.
"Argh!"
Suddenly, the man turned around as if he felt Crimson Tiger's gaze. Their eyes locked, and the man grinned.
That grin told Crimson Tiger all he needed to know. This man was not eliminating rivals out of necessity. He killed for pleasure.
He reminded Crimson Tiger of the one who had destroyed the Savage Beast Gang, although this man's martial prowess was clearly inferior. If he trained hard though, he would probably grow into that kind of monster.
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Crimson Tiger wanted to nip the potential serial killer in the bud, but regretfully, he couldn't do anything that would draw too much attention right now.
Seeing Crimson Tiger's calm demeanor, the man flicked a hidden weapon at him. Crimson Tiger tilted his head and easily dodged it.
The man laughed even louder.
Crimson Tiger turned away, deciding that it was unwise to continue inviting the attention of a madman like that.
Just then, someone said to him, "That's Eum Sagwon, a disciple of One Slash Ten Kills Pung Yang. He's notorious for being both cocky and cruel."
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The speaker was a man who looked about the same age as Crimson Tiger, with a friendly, approachable smile.
"Oh, and I'm Soh Bung. Nice to meet you!" Soh Bung said, casually deflecting a hidden weapon.
From the way he greeted Crimson Tiger casually while the hidden weapons were still flying everywhere, he possesed impressive martial arts skills for his age, well above the noble young man.
Crimson Tiger gave him a questioning look.
Soh Bung smiled. "I saw you at the entrance. I really admired your wit. Ah! Watch out!"
Soh Bung sprang up and knocked aside a hidden weapon aimed at Crimson Tiger's back.
"You don't need to thank me."
"……" Crimson Tiger walked away without a word, not offering any thanks as told.
Watching him go, Soh Bung laughed. "This is what makes you so charming."
Crimson Tiger replied by flicking a hidden weapon at Soh Bung.
"Ouch!" Soh Bung pretended to cry out, though he easily deflected the attack.
Soon the mechanism reached its maximum output, spitting out hidden weapons in a frenzy. Their speed increased and the number of projectiles doubled.
However, no one was taken down by them. The martial artists who couldn't withstand the onslaught had already been eliminated.
Finally, the mechanism clattered to a halt.
The sight was horrifying. More than fifty people were dead, and about a hundred were wounded.
The examiners came out of the building.
Stepping back up the platform, Wol Seongcheon announced, "Those who shed even a single drop of blood, leave now!"
The main gate opened again, and the helpers came in to take out the corpses. No one dared question the rules of the exam, not after they had all signed the contract. All anyone could do was feel sorry for the dead.
The injured clutched their wounds and made their way out, counting themselves lucky to be alive.
About a hundred and fifty people were left.
"A little better, but the stench remains." Wol Seongcheon scoffed and looked around. "Let's move on to the next garbage dump!"
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