Chapter 130: Building a Nest (8)

The Patriotic Association and the Hongik Patriotic Group have the same purpose, but their tendencies were clearly different.

They were so different that one could say, 'The Patriotic Association is a gathering of strong-headed blockheads, while the Hongik Patriotic Group is a gathering of madmen who think they're smart.'

Of course, as Korea developed, the difference in their tendencies narrowed greatly, but because the core personnel forming the two organizations, the people acting as pillars and foundations, were still alive and well, their tendencies showed clear differences like oil and water even while seeming to become similar.

And now.

One of the key figures of the Hongik Patriotic Group was in front of Jinseong's eyes.

Ghostblade Kim Jong-su.

He was a martial artist whose nickname, given by the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War deployment as "Blade Ghost," had become like a title. Naturally, as befitting such a title, his sword skills were incredible, and as he aged, far from rusting, he only became stronger.

It was said that he played a big role when fighting Japan before the regression, and his rampaging appearance then was said to be that of a human butcher itself.

"Who are you?"

Kim Jong-su glared at Jinseong with fierce eyes as soon as he got out of the car.

Jinseong didn't answer the question and instead changed the shape of his golden mask in various ways. The mask sometimes became a shape resembling a bee-like insect, sometimes resembling a spider. An ant-like shape, a caterpillar-like shape, a shape more similar to a monster from legend than an insect - the mask kept changing its shape, bewildering Kim Jong-su's vision.

The constantly changing mask.

Spider legs made of gold.

A strange atmosphere that was clearly human yet not human-like.

All of this was creating tension.

And when the tension reached its peak, Jinseong opened his mouth.

"Kehe. The question is wrong."

The sound that came out of his mouth was strange.

A sound that seemed to reverberate and be distorted.

It was like speaking into a twisted pipe.

As if a butterfly was making a voice with its rolled-up mouth.

As if a person obsessed with music was speaking with a wind instrument stuck in their mouth.

Jinseong tried to bewitch everyone's ears with such a bizarre voice.

But Kim Jong-su glared at him with shining eyes, not bewitched by such a voice.

"Alright. I'll ask again. How did you come here?"

"That's also a wrong question."

Jinseong looked at him, spreading his arms wide.

The golden mask that had been in the shape of a caterpillar until just now had already changed into a grasshopper-like shape.

"This is neither a chance arrival while wandering aimlessly, nor a visit due to some connection. Therefore, coming here is beyond the category of chance and clearly involves will. Since I came here solely of my own accord, words like fate or destiny cannot be used either."

The golden mask trembled slightly.

It was as if an insect was trying to hold back laughter.

"So that question is truly meaningless."

"Is that so?"

Kim Jong-su looked at Jinseong calmly and said.

"Then I suppose this exchange of questions and answers is also meaningless?"

With those words, he drew his sword like lightning and swung it.

Then, an invisible and colorless qi that couldn't be seen with the eyes swept over Jinseong.

And time passed.

When Kim Jong-su blinked once, a thin line appeared on Jinseong's neck.

As he took a slight breath, the line became an even clearer shape.

And when he put his sword back in its sheath, Jinseong's head fell to the ground.

Thud.

Roll.

"Sir! What is this!"

The officer who came with Kim Jong-su screamed.

He screamed at the fact that the Ghostblade had swung his sword without warning and committed murder, he cried out at the fact that he had carried out an immediate execution without properly following procedures, and he despaired at the fact that this would cast dark clouds over his promotion.

The officer clung to the Ghostblade with a pale face.

"He seemed like someone we could talk to, so why! Why did you cut off his head!"

"Hmm."

"Moreover, this is clearly excessive force! Even if it's an important facility, you can't just cut off someone's head for trespassing! Why on earth did you do such a thing when it's not even wartime!"

The officer spoke to him as if complaining, full of resentment.

It was an action he would never have done even in his dreams normally, but the officer, who had half lost his reason due to the shocking event that unfolded before his eyes and his completely blocked path to promotion, could commit rudeness without hesitation.

But despite the officer clinging to him and throwing a tantrum, Kim Jong-su was just staring at the head rolling on the ground with a hardened face. Then he took out his sword again, held it in one hand, and muttered.

"As expected."

He sighed slightly and waved the tip of his sword lightly.

Then once again, invisible qi cut the rolling head in half. It was cut exactly in half as if a watermelon or cabbage was being cut by a knife, and between the halves, dazzling gold that confused the eyes was fully visible.

The cut surface changed shape, wriggling as if embarrassed by others' gazes, and eventually became small bug shapes that collapsed the head shape and gathered on the floor, swarming. Gold beetle-like bugs and banknote-made flying insects moved around, confusing the eyes.

The gathered bugs formed the shape of horns, which looked like a mouth attached to the very top of a pyramid.

"Ke-he."

At this incredibly bizarre sight, Kim Jong-su asked the officer who was standing beside him in a daze.

"Does he still seem like someone we can talk to?"

"No, I don't know about talking... But he doesn't seem human, sir..."

"He is human. No, he was. It was something terrible, but he was human."

Kim Jong-su said, looking at Jinseong who was rebuilding his body using the golden bugs as material.

"I clearly felt a human presence earlier, so he was human. But now he's run away and is hiding somewhere, controlling that thing."

"Ran away, you say?"

The officer made an expression as if asking how that was possible.

Dozens of soldiers.

Surveillance systems like TOD, satellites, drones, CCTV, sniper scopes.

And on top of that, Kim Jong-su, a martial artist who would definitely be counted among the top ten strongest in Korea.

How could anyone escape unnoticed under these conditions?

"Even mere animals develop escape skills to cling to their lives, how would humans be any different?"

Kim Jong-su said this and closed his eyes.

Then he emitted qi from his body and spread his qi sense in all directions.

Faintly.

Sensitively like a spider web.

As light as possible, yet movable only by his will.

"Found him."

Kim Jong-su began to move his sword while facing the darkness created by his eyelids.

That movement was as light as if holding a blade of grass.

*                     *                     *

The sword blade moved through the wind as if formless.

It drew a truly fleeting trajectory like light gathering and disappearing.

If no trace remained when that trajectory was drawn, how could one know that a sword has been swung?

If qi scattered, the trajectory left no afterimage, and only what was cut proved its existence, then only the result mattered.

If that was the case, if swinging and cutting was everything.

Nothing else mattered.

*                     *                     *

With Kim Jong-su's slow horizontal slash, somewhere in the village was cut.

Thud.

Roll.

Kim Jong-su's sword, swung at the well entrance, transcended space and accurately cut the neck of some being hiding somewhere in the village. As before, it cut the neck diagonally in a neat line, dropping the head that could no longer stay attached to the ground.

But the fallen head, as if mocking him, decomposed once again and scattered golden bugs in all directions.

"It's-use-less."

"Yes. It's useless."

Kim Jong-su sighed softly at the mocking voice.

Then he quietly looked at the gold wriggling on the ground, changing its shape in various ways.

"Ke-he. If you ask the right question, hu. I'll answer."

"No. That's enough."

"Then how about calling someone else? It's clear that those here can't catch me, so wouldn't it be right to call others to try to find and catch me?"

Kim Jong-su frowned as if annoyed by the eerie voice tickling his ears.

"It seems you have a talent for bewitching people with your tongue..."

It's a shame I couldn't pull out your tongue or cut off your neck.

He muttered this quietly, then slightly turned his gaze to the officer beside him and said.

"Request backup. Say there's a murder suspect here."

The officer blinked at Kim Jong-su's words.

Murder?

Murder suspect?

The officer's face gradually turned white at those two unbearably heavy words.

But at the same time, his pupils and hands trembled slightly with excitement.

This was because he realized that if they caught the murder suspect, not only would his nearly-blocked path to promotion return to normal, but it would even open up like a highway.

"Tell them the crazy sorcerer who killed the loan shark last time is here. Make sure to say the evidence is the serial numbers on those banknotes flying around like bugs."

"Yes, sir!"

Jinseong watched the officer excitedly reporting behind Retona and Kim Jong-su holding his sword warily.

He just watched.