At the entrance of the Mu Family Estate, Yuwol was met by an ordinary-looking middle-aged man.
“Where are you from?”
“I came from Geumsan.”
“What brings you here?”
“I’m here to buy a gift for a friend.”
After confirming the prearranged passphrase, the man checked the entry token Yuwol handed over.
“You’re late.”
As if Yuwol was the last guest, the man firmly locked the gate.
Due to the nature of the event, no further identity verification was possible. All the guests today were individuals who took extreme measures to conceal their identities.
The gatekeeper’s steps were slow yet disciplined as he led the way. Though he worked as a mere gatekeeper, Yuwol could tell he was a master capable of channeling energy into his blade.
Crossing a garden in full bloom with crepe myrtles, the man guided him to a secret underground chamber within the Mu Family Estate.
The space was too large to be called a room, yet too modest to be a grand hall. Already gathered inside were a dozen martial artists.
Most wore bamboo hats pulled low or covered their faces with veils. Some had their faces exposed, but their rigid and unnatural expressions suggested they were wearing human-skin masks.
As Yuwol entered, all eyes briefly turned toward him before shifting back.
He positioned himself to the side.
The exact number of people in the room was ten. Among them, a middle-aged man in a sleek black martial robe with a bamboo hat was his subordinate—Jinpae, the First Squad Leader of the Black Wind Unit.
Jinpae, in his mid-forties, was the eldest among the five squad leaders of the Black Wind Unit and the only one who was married. With a rugged appearance and a straightforward personality, he was the least “demonic” of the five. His external technique, specializing in fists, was known as Dominating Iron Fist.
As Yuwol discreetly scanned the room, his eyes gleamed when they landed on a particular middle-aged man.
The odd curve of the sword at the man’s waist and the distinctive way he clenched his fists felt familiar.
Retracing his memories, Yuwol soon recalled who he was.
The man was Won Ryeong, the Deputy Leader of the Cheonryong Unit under the Justice Alliance. Two years ago, during an operation, Yuwol had crossed paths with the Cheonryong Unit, and he had encountered Won Ryeong then.
Yuwol’s memory, especially when it came to enemies, was said to be extraordinary. Fortunately, Won Ryeong did not recognize him.
“The Deputy Leader of the Cheonryong Unit is here in person?”
This indicated how seriously they were taking this matter.
Yuwol examined the remaining guests. If the Justice Alliance had caught wind of today’s event, there was no way the Dark Path Alliance wouldn’t have as well.
Closing his eyes, Yuwol sharpened his focus, reading the energies flowing within the chamber.
Sinister energy.
His gaze fixed on a woman in a corner wearing a face veil. She appeared to be in her early thirties, with piercing eyes.
Though she concealed it well, he could faintly sense traces of orthodox dark arts in her energy. These arts were exclusively practiced by warriors affiliated with the Dark Alliance.
Yuwol sent a secret transmission to Jinpae.
“Among the field operatives of the Dark Alliance, who’s the most prominent woman lately?”
Jinpae responded immediately.
“If it’s a woman, it must be Blood Bee of the Dragon-Tiger Strike Force.”
The Dragon-Tiger Strike Force was an elite unit the Dark Alliance took pride in.
“Have you seen her before?”
“From a distance, a few years ago. Why do you ask?”
“The veiled woman behind you—she’s likely Blood Bee. The man next to her is Won Ryeong.”
“Damn. How did they find out?”
“Looks like someone deliberately leaked the information.”
“That bastard has really stirred up a storm.”
A cold smirk curled on Yuwol’s lips.
“They’ll soon realize there’s nothing worth feasting on at this banquet.”
Just then, the door opened, and two men entered.
The man in the lead was a middle-aged individual in his mid-forties, dressed in yellow robes, followed by an elderly man who appeared well over seventy.
Even Yuwol, composed as he was, was taken aback by their arrival.
The man in yellow spoke.
“Pleasure to meet you. My name is Yeo Someone.”
Yuwol knew his full name well.
Yeo Ga-hwi.
In his younger days, he was a notorious master thief, but one day, he suddenly vanished from the martial world.
When he reemerged years later, he was no longer a thief. Using his old connections, he became an illegal auctioneer, dealing in stolen goods. This new career made him even more famous than when he had been scaling walls.
But Yuwol wasn’t shocked because of Yeo Ga-hwi. It was the elderly man behind him, casually tapping his lower back as he took a seat.
Wind Demon!
Wind Demon was a former member of the Demonic Cult who had retired due to age. Despite being on par with the Six Demon Lords, he had famously refused to join the Elders’ Council. His aloof nature kept him from mingling with others.
Jinpae, who had also recognized him, sent a hurried transmission.
“It’s Wind Demon, damn it.”
Yuwol bit his lip. He had expected some heavyweights to be involved.
Sa Dobin had emphasized multiple times that he had to personally handle this operation.
But Wind Demon’s presence was completely unforeseen.
“What do we do? Should we abort the mission?”
Jinpae’s cautious inquiry was met with Yuwol’s firm response.
“We proceed.”
It was clear Yuwol had already made up his mind.
“Are you sure?”
Jinpae’s voice held a slight tremor. No matter how deep the corruption ran, Wind Demon was not someone to trifle with.
Beyond his formidable martial prowess, he was also close friends with the Demonic Sword—the strongest among the Six Demon Lords.
This situation was becoming increasingly troublesome.
Meanwhile, Yeo Ga-hwi greeted the assembly with a beaming smile.
“First of all, I’d like to thank everyone for making the effort to be here. I see we have some new faces today as well—pleasure to meet you.”
Gaining access to these stolen goods auctions was no easy feat. Yeo Ga-hwi was meticulous when selecting participants, allowing entry only to those who had traded with him for over five years and had a trustworthy recommendation.
“Well then, shall we begin?”
At his signal, the gatekeeper brought in a large box.
From it, he retrieved a sword and handed it to Yeo Ga-hwi.
“Here is our first item of the night.”
As Yeo Ga-hwi unsheathed the blade, a razor-sharp edge gleamed under the light.
Even at a glance, it was evident this was no ordinary weapon.
“The Crimson Heart Sword, once wielded by the late Grandmaster Lee Cheong.”
“Oh!”
Several guests exclaimed in awe and stepped closer to examine it.
Swinging the blade lightly, Yeo Ga-hwi smirked.
“The scabbard and hilt have been completely modified. Even if Grandmaster Lee were to rise from the dead, he wouldn’t recognize it. Bidding starts at seven thousand nyang.”
Without hesitation, a man in a flamboyant robe raised his hand.
“Seven thousand.”
Immediately, a short man beside him lifted his hand as well.
“Eight thousand.”
Like devoted sons discovering their late father’s treasured relic, the two fiercely competed, and the price quickly soared to fourteen thousand nyang.
Eventually, the short man conceded.
The sword was handed to the robed man, who promptly pulled out a promissory note and completed the transaction.
Caressing the blade with satisfaction, the robed man beamed, while Yeo Ga-hwi grinned, pleased.
For every item sold, Yeo Ga-hwi took a ten percent commission.
Ten percent of fourteen thousand nyang—one thousand four hundred.
Without lifting a finger, Yeo Ga-hwi had just pocketed a fortune.
For the thieves who had risked their lives to steal it, the fee was outrageous, yet they gladly relied on him.
Handling stolen goods was a dangerous business, after all.
The gatekeeper then presented a smaller box.
“Our second item of the night.”
When Yeo Ga-hwi opened the box, three beads resembling black pearls lay neatly inside.
“These are Poison-Repelling Beads, issued exclusively to the division leaders of the Justice Alliance. They are of the highest quality, with an efficacy three times that of ordinary ones.”
Poison-Repelling Beads were rarely traded items. Moreover, top-grade ones were so rare that one might only see them once in several years.
The eyes of the crowd began to gleam with interest.
“Starting at fifteen hundred nyang, with each bead priced at five hundred nyang.”
Yuwol glanced at Won ryeong. Despite the fact that the Justice Alliance’s Poison-Repelling Beads were being illegally traded, he showed little concern. It was clear that his presence here today was not because of these beads.
After several rounds of bidding, the Poison-Repelling Beads were ultimately sold for seven thousand nyang.
The prices of the sword auctioned earlier and now these beads were unimaginable sums for ordinary people. Clearly, every guest present tonight was someone of extraordinary background.
The third item Yeo Ga-hui presented was a small medicine bottle.
He carefully held it out, pausing for a moment, as if to emphasize its significance. And indeed, the words that followed were shocking.
“This is Seven Steps Death Powder from the Sichuan Tang Clan.”
A stir rippled through the audience. Seven Steps Death Powder was one of the seven deadliest poisons of the Tang Clan, a product incomparable to the previous two items in both value and danger.
Yeo Ga-hui carefully placed the medicine bottle inside a small wooden case.
“As you all know, no matter how skilled one may be, a single drop of this poison ensures death before they take their seventh step. The bidding starts at ten thousand nyang.”
In truth, the cost of its raw ingredients barely amounted to a few dozen nyang. Yet, no one protested the staggering starting price. Even with a million nyang, acquiring this poison was impossible unless one was an acknowledged master from the direct lineage of the Tang Clan.
After fierce competition, the Seven Steps Death Powder was finally sold for twenty-seven thousand nyang to a middle-aged man dressed in a crimson robe. Despite its immense value, no one questioned its authenticity or how it had been obtained. That alone was proof of the trust they placed in Yeo Ga-hui.
“And now, the final item of the night.”
The eyes of those who had left empty-handed turned to him. This auction was a rare event, held only every few months if one was lucky—some years, there was no auction at all.
“But before that, I have something to say.”
Even as all eyes focused on him, Yeo Ga-hui did not speak right away.
As the tension built, he finally lowered his voice and spoke in a whisper.
“This item comes from Daechonsan.”
At those words, the room fell silent.
An item from Daechonsan meant one thing—it belonged to the Demonic Cult. A heavy stillness settled over the room.
“I’m out.”
One of the men stepped forward, shaking his head. He was the short man who had previously bid fiercely for the sword.
After offering a slight nod to Yeo Ga-hui, he swiftly ascended the stairs and left. Yeo Ga-hui made no move to stop him. If anything, his expression suggested that he had expected this.
Seeing him leave, another person followed suit.
“I’ll see you at the next gathering.”
His expression made it clear—he had no intention of gambling with his life.
As the two departed without hesitation, others began to follow.
Yuwol quickly sent a covert message to Jinpae.
“Jin Captain, have our men tail them and identify who they are.”
In other words, follow them as they leave this place.
“Understood. Stay safe.”
As Jinpae reached the door, he hesitated for a moment, concerned for Yuwol. But then he let out a small chuckle. If this was a situation Yuwol couldn’t handle alone, his own presence wouldn’t change the outcome—it would only add to the burden. Besides, Yuwol had always returned safely from even the most impossible situations. Today would likely be no different.
Once Jinpae stepped out, the iron doors shut firmly behind him.
Sending Jinpae away had only been an excuse. The real reason was that this matter had to be handled in absolute secrecy.
“Tch, such cowards…”
Clicking his tongue, Yeo Gahui shook his head. Then, as if those who remained were the truly courageous ones, he raised a thumb and smiled.
There were only four people left—Yuwol, Won ryeong, Hyeol bong, and the man who had bought the first sword.
The latter seemed quite pleased with himself for staying, as if he had become part of some elite group of the brave.
“Fortune never favors cowards, after all! Hahaha!”
His gestures and speech made one wonder if he truly deserved the fine sword at his waist.
Looking around at the four remaining guests, Yeo Ga-hui smiled in satisfaction.
“Well then, shall we get to the main discussion?”
Won ryeong shot a glance at Hyeol bong, who, in turn, kept a wary eye on Yuwol. The only person visibly excited was the man in white.
“What exactly is this item?”
Even as the man pressed for answers, Yeo Ga-hui did not rush.
Unlike before, he did not reveal the item first—he simply stated the price. A price so shocking that everyone in the room was left speechless.
“The starting bid is fifty thousand nyang.”
The man in white flinched so hard it seemed like he had leapt in place.
For a moment, he thought he must have misheard—perhaps it was five thousand instead of fifty?
Yet, Yeo Ga-hui remained completely composed.
“Bidding starts at fifty thousand nyang, increasing by increments of five thousand. If you wish to buy it outright, the price is one hundred thousand nyang.”
The sheer absurdity of it left the man dumbfounded. Even Won ryeong and Hyeol bong couldn’t hide their shock.
“What is it, stir-fried Millennium He Shou Wu seasoned with Great Rejuvenation Pill , with a side of Ethereal Stone Milk for refreshment?”
It was his best attempt at a joke, but no one laughed.
Fifty thousand nyang was, with slight exaggeration, enough to buy an entire small city.
“Heh…”
Yeo Ga-hui let out an enigmatic chuckle and pulled a small book from his robe.
All eyes immediately locked onto the palm-sized booklet. The man in white, in particular, looked like he might bore a hole through it with his stare.
“What kind of martial arts manual is worth that much?”
Naturally, he assumed it was a martial arts tome.
“This is not a martial arts manual.”
“Then what is it?”
“This is… an Identity Register.”
At those words, the man in white erupted in anger.
“An Identity Register? So, just a list of names on some sheets of paper? And you’re asking for fifty thousand nyang?!”
He turned to the others, hoping for support, but the three remained silent.
“Of course, the names written here are no ordinary names.”
Yeo Ga-hui made a motion as if to open the book but then hesitated, as if its contents were far too sensitive to reveal lightly.
Breaking the suffocating silence, he finally spoke in a low voice.
“This is a register of all the branch leaders and above within the Demonic Cult spread throughout the Central Plains. Their current aliases, their locations, and the businesses they use as fronts—everything is recorded in detail.”
The man in white froze.
Even knowing that the item came from the Demonic Cult, he had never imagined it would be something of this magnitude.
If this fell into the hands of the Justice Alliance, it wouldn’t be just a list—it would become an execution ledger. The righteous sects and the dark factions alike would fight fiercely for this document.
A shiver ran down his spine. His instincts screamed at him—leave this place immediately.
“Ahem, this is of no use to me. I have no intention of buying, so I’ll take my leave.”
Trying to sound nonchalant, his voice cracked, and his legs trembled as if they belonged to a frail old man.
As he climbed the stairs, he turned back to Yeo Ga-hui.
“And don’t worry—I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”
It was a mistake.
Whoosh.
His body was suddenly yanked into the air as if by an unseen force.
“Kuhk!”
The one who had seized him was none other than Pungma, who had been dozing off at the table.
“You talk too much.”
Murderous intent flickered in Pungma’s eyes.
