Myst, Might, Mayhem Chapter 3
Previously on Myst, Might, Mayhem...
Chapter 3: Opportunity (3)
Mok Gyeong-un was dead, his life extinguished instantly by a snapped neck.
The intruder stood frozen, dazed for a fleeting second.
However, the stillness was short-lived.
“You bastard!”
Thwack!
Boiling with rage, the intruder lunged at the boy. He seized his throat and slammed him violently against the stone wall.
Thud!
The situation was nonsensical.
Even if the original Mok Gyeong-un was merely a third-rate martial artist with lackluster talent, this boy was supposed to be a common civilian.
Even for a death row inmate, the gap between a regular person and a practitioner of martial arts should have been insurmountable.
How could a surprise attack allow a commoner to break Mok Gyeong-un’s neck so effortlessly?
While the intruder reeled in disbelief, the boy stared back with a hollow, expressionless face.
“…Even if sleeping incense was used, shouldn't you avoid making such a racket?”
“What? You piece of trash, now you’re—!?”
The intruder’s brow twitched.
Despite being held by the throat, the boy showed no signs of panic or suffocation.
On the contrary, his voice remained perfectly steady.
‘This brat... now that I’m looking closely, why is his neck...’
The musculature in the boy's neck was incredibly dense, resembling someone who had spent a lifetime training in external martial arts.
It was thick enough that one would need significant internal energy just to crush it.
‘Could he be an external martial arts practitioner? No, impossible. If he were, there would be some trace of internal energy.’
Even the most basic external martial arts required a foundation of internal energy circulation.
Yet, this youth possessed absolutely no internal energy.
He was clearly no ordinary prisoner.
The intruder’s thoughts raced, but he pushed the confusion aside for the more pressing issue.
“You lunatic. The Young Master handed you a lifeline, and you’ve truly lost your mind. To do this to the very person who gave a lowly death row inmate a second chance...”
“Am I mistaken about the role of a stand-in?”
“What?”
“Fundamentally, a stand-in exists to absorb the risks meant for the original. For me, it’s a chance to live three more days. But if you went to the trouble of breaking a prisoner out to serve as a decoy, doesn't that imply he is disposable at any moment?”
The boy’s tone was chillingly calm.
The intruder found himself momentarily speechless.
This boy was far more perceptive than he had anticipated.
A typical civilian or death row convict would be consumed by the immediate fear of death.
‘No, how did he even manage this in the first place?’
He hadn't just assessed the situation in a heartbeat; he was actively gambling with his life.
Even though he was currently at the intruder's mercy.
‘Just what kind of monster is he...?’
Finding the whole ordeal absurd, the intruder watched as the boy spoke again.
“May I ask a question?”
“You bastard, do you not understand the situation you’re in—”
“You claim to be a bodyguard, yet you seem remarkably composed for someone whose master has just been killed.”
“You little...”
“If you still have this much logic left when you should be trying to slaughter me, it suggests you didn't care much for your master, did you?”
“Ha!”
The intruder let out a dry laugh, stunned.
The boy was reading his psychological state with unsettling accuracy.
As he pointed out, the intruder felt no loyalty toward the useless Young Master.
He was simply rattled and infuriated by the disruption of his plans.
However, he wasn't so blinded by rage that he would kill the boy and flee the prison immediately.
‘This is insane.’
To think he was being manipulated by a mere boy on death row.
Logically, as the boy suggested, execution was the only proper response to this crime.
But if both the Young Master and the substitute were dead, the Yeon Mok Sword Manor would demand the intruder’s life as compensation.
‘Damn it, this is a disaster.’
His dreams of installing the Third Young Master as the Manor Master and retiring as a powerful Elder had crumbled into dust.
Because of this wretched inmate, years of investment had vanished.
Sensing the intruder's frustration, the boy spoke up.
“If you have no loyalty to him, why not consider switching horses?”
“Switching horses?”
“Wouldn't it be simpler to view the body on the floor as the prisoner scheduled for execution the day after tomorrow?”
The boy’s suggestion was casual, almost indifferent.
Looking at him, the intruder felt a cold shiver trace down his spine.
This boy was essentially proposing that he would become the new Mok Gyeong-un.
Squeeze!
The intruder’s hand tightened around the boy’s throat.
“Urgh...”
Only then did a small groan of pain escape the boy’s lips.
The intruder hissed, “Did you kill the Young Master with this plan in mind from the start?”
The boy let out a soft, dark chuckle.
“Is there... any other... reason?”
“!?”
The intruder swallowed hard. What kind of creature was he dealing with?
The boy's thought process operated on a completely different level than that of a normal human.
His cunning was terrifying.
Perhaps that was why he had been sentenced to death in the first place.
‘This guy is a threat.’
Regardless of the Yeon Mok Sword Manor's reaction, his instincts screamed that it would be safer to end the boy now.
His gut told him that no matter the age or lack of martial arts, being involved with this person would lead to ruin.
Squeeze!
“Ack!”
The pressure increased. It was a force that even someone with internal energy would struggle to endure.
“Don't make me laugh. It’s better if you just die here.”
He decided to kill him. He would just have to start over from scratch.
Suddenly, the boy reached up and grabbed the intruder’s wrist.
Smack!
“It’s futile. You might have killed the Young Master through luck, but I am a different story.”
The intruder tried to brush the boy’s hand away with his free hand, channeling internal energy into the strike, but—
Smack!
‘This brat?’
The boy didn't budge.
It was like striking a solid iron pillar.
He felt a bizarre resilience in the boy’s wrist; the muscles were unnaturally firm.
They were strong enough to withstand a blow reinforced by internal energy.
With a lightning-fast motion, the intruder tore the sleeve of the boy’s prison rags.
“!?”
The intruder’s eyes bulged.
Beneath the fabric lay a landscape of dense, corded muscle.
He nearly gasped. These muscles looked as though they had been forged through a decade of brutal external martial arts training.
The puzzle pieces finally clicked into place.
‘...No wonder the Young Master was killed.’
It wasn't just a lucky ambush. Given the sheer density of this boy’s physique, it would be impossible to hurt him without significant martial skill.
His raw physical power already exceeded what a third-rate martial artist could manage.
‘If a person like this had actually studied the Dao of martial arts...’
He could have been a peak expert.
However, to properly develop internal energy, one usually had to begin between the ages of five and ten.
Any later, and impurities would clog the Meridians, stalling the flow of Qi.
Squeeze!
The intruder’s wrist began to ache. The boy was applying counter-pressure, attempting to pry the hand from his neck.
‘What kind of monstrous strength is this?’
Even though he was using the power of a seventh-level martial artist, the boy was fighting back with nothing but brute force.
He was a natural powerhouse. If the intruder relaxed for even a second, the boy might actually break free.
‘I have to stop this.’
The intruder shifted into a Grappling Hand Technique.
He released the boy’s throat, seized his wrist, and twisted the joint sharply toward the small of the boy's back.
‘Huh?’
The move was so swift that the boy’s arm was pinned before he could react.
‘How did he do that?’
Was this the power of a Sect’s technique? It was ingenious. The intruder had used the boy’s own momentum to neutralize him.
Still, the pressure on his neck was gone, allowing him to breathe and speak freely.
Shing!
The intruder drew a sharp dagger from his belt.
He looked ready to bury the blade in the boy’s chest.
The boy spoke quickly.
“Is there truly a reason to kill me?”
“What?”
“Since I will die without the antidote, I have no choice but to be your subordinate, don't I?”
The intruder paused, the dagger hovering in the air.
The situation was so chaotic he had forgotten—the boy had already swallowed the poison pill he’d been given.
But that realization only made the boy seem more insane.
‘Ha!’
To commit such a murder while knowing his life depended on the intruder’s antidote was beyond reckless.
‘Is he doing this because he knows he’s the only replacement left?’
The boy’s calculation was terrifyingly deep.
“I have no interest in the Yeon Mok Sword Manor or the title of Third Young Master,” the boy added.
“No interest? Then why commit this madness...?”
“I simply have a reason to survive a little longer.”
“To live longer?”
What did that mean?
The boy’s voice took on a heavy, meaningful tone.
“Since you hold the antidote, you can pull my strings like a puppet as you please.”
The intruder flinched. He had been mourning his lost retirement, fearing he’d have to start over elsewhere after so much careful planning.
‘Control him as I wish...’
He fell into a deep silence. It was a seductive offer, but he wasn't naive.
In their brief encounter, he had learned that this boy was incredibly dangerous and difficult to tame.
Yet, if the boy valued his life this much, the poison pill would keep him on a short leash—for now.
‘...Should I use this to change my allegiance?’
He had only sought a substitute to save the Young Master’s life. With the Young Master dead, using this boy to pivot his plans was a viable path.
If he tried to rule from the shadows through this boy, it would surely cause headaches later, but it was an opportunity.
‘Fine. I’ll use him and then discard him.’
He made his choice.
“If you show even a hint of betrayal, I will end you. If you falter in my commands, you die.”
“Understood,” the boy replied instantly.
“If you don't receive the antidote within twelve hours, the poison will ravage your body. Keep that in mind.”
Thwack!
The intruder finally released the boy’s arm.
As the boy stood up, the intruder said, “From this moment on, you are Mok Gyeong-un.”
“I understand. Should I address you as Sir Guard Gam?”
“Yes.”
“And in public, I am to speak casually to you, correct?”
“...Correct.”
He loathed the idea of the boy speaking down to him, but it was necessary for the ruse.
The boy—now Mok Gyeong-un—walked over to the corpse of the real Mok Gyeong-un and began to strip the body.
‘Hmm.’
Guard Gam watched with a look of distaste. The boy was already swapping clothes without being prompted. His efficiency was chilling.
He could only feel a flicker of pity for the dead Young Master.
Swish!
The boy pulled off the prisoner's tunic.
‘...Look at him.’
The boy's upper body was a map of dense, powerful muscles. Even with blood-soaked bandages wrapped around his torso, the definition was staggering.
‘To think this body was achieved without external martial arts.’
Guard Gam’s amazement grew. Then, his eyes narrowed.
‘Those bandages indicate a severe wound, yet he moves as if he’s perfectly healthy?’
It was a mystery. If it were an old injury, it would be fine, but the blood was fresh. Yet, the boy’s complexion was steady, and his movements were fluid.
‘What is going on here?’
He found himself curious about what crime had landed this boy on death row. He would need to speak with his contact in the government office again.
Mok Gyeong-un, now dressed in the Young Master’s clothes, turned back to him.
“May I use your dagger?”
“Dagger... for what?”
Mok Gyeong-un gestured toward the head of the deceased and spoke with terrifying indifference.
“The Young Master’s build is more delicate than mine. I think it’s best if I take the body and leave only the head behind.”
“...”
The logic was sound, but the boy’s coldness was deeply disturbing.
Guard Gam decided then and there that he needed to complete his plan and get away from this boy as quickly as possible.