Myst, Might, Mayhem Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Mok Sword Manor (1)

Mok Gyeong-un unfastened the linen wraps and examined his torso in the reflection of the mirror.

Jagged marks from blade thrusts marred the left side of his chest and his midsection.

‘Scars?’

Under normal circumstances, even deep gashes would not leave such permanent traces on him.

Yet, the injuries dealt by that man’s obsidian blade had transformed into lasting welts.

It appeared they were destined to stay with him for the rest of his days.

‘Well… there is no helping it.’

Survival alone was enough of a victory.

Even by his own estimation, wounds of that severity should have been fatal.

Contrary to all logic, however, he had endured.

He had always been aware of his abnormal recuperative powers, but his sheer grip on life exceeded even his own imagination.

‘Is this a sign that my time hasn't come yet?’

It was a stroke of luck.

If he eventually had to endure his grandfather’s scolding in the afterlife, he wanted to at least finish his vendetta first.

That would make the situation feel less unfair.

‘Revenge…’

Reflecting on his quest for vengeance, he considered himself fortunate.

Who could have predicted the existence of a man with a face identical to his own?

Because of that coincidence, he was able to shed his old identity completely.

‘Should I call this luck?’

Since the death row prisoner was officially recorded as deceased, no posters would be circulated for his escape.

In truth, he was less concerned with the government’s pursuit than with a different threat.

‘They likely believe I am dead now, don’t they?’

He recalled the middle-aged warrior with the black sword he had crossed paths with while hunting his enemy.

That man had come specifically to end his life.

If the truth of his survival ever surfaced, that killer would undoubtedly return to finish the job.

‘…Martial arts.’

He had learned a hard lesson.

That man was a literal monster, unlike anyone he had ever faced.

Without masterng Cultivation and martial techniques, challenging him was an impossibility.

In that sense, this was a twist of destiny.

The man who shared his face was the third Young Master of a prominent martial clan, the Yeon Mok Sword Manor.

He could now deceive both that household and the rest of the world by posing as the third Young Master of Yeon Mok Sword Manor, leaving the name of the Sickle-slaying Demon behind. Furthermore, he now had a path to learn martial arts.

‘The path is open, but…’

There remained a single complication.

Mok Gyeong-un observed the dark silhouette standing guard outside the door as he pulled on his tunic.

It was the sentry Guard Gam had assigned to keep him under surveillance.

As a result, he was restricted to the villa, unable to step outside for anything other than a trip to the latrine.

‘How tiresome.’

The circumstances were far from ideal.

It was essentially a state of incarceration.

Despite their agreement, Guard Gam clearly harbored no trust for him.

This dynamic was likely to persist.

It was only logical, considering he had brazenly slaughtered the ‘original’ right before the man’s eyes.

‘What is my next move?’

If he remained passive, he would continue to be used as a mere tool.

He might never even get the chance to begin his Cultivation.

He was currently trapped in a stalemate, paralyzed by his surroundings.

Despite this, Mok Gyeong-un let out a soft laugh, his expression appearing entirely unbothered.

Knock knock!

Suddenly, there was a rapping at the door.

“Young Master, your midday meal has arrived.”

The door swung open, and a servant girl entered carrying a dining tray.

The meal consisted of stir-fried beef and eggplant, bean sprouts, and a bowl of rice.

Following her usual routine, the maid set the tray down on the circular table near the window.

She stole a quick look at Mok Gyeong-un, who was fastening his buttons while taking a seat.

‘He truly is striking.’

Among the four brothers of the Mok family, Mok Gyeong-un’s features were easily the most handsome.

The maids would often vie for the chance to serve his meals just to catch a glimpse of him.

One had to find small joys in such a life, after all.

However,

‘Huh?’

The maid’s brow twitched slightly.

With a pleasant smile on his face, he appeared no different than the Mok Gyeong-un she knew.

Yet, what was this strange, lingering feeling of discord?

‘What could it be?’

Something felt off.

It was frustratingly difficult to name exactly what had changed.

As she stood there internally confused, she reached for the empty tray to depart when he spoke.

“Wait a moment.”

“Yes?”

“Regarding the stir-fried beef and eggplant.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

“In the future, I would prefer the beef to be cooked less.”

“But if it is too raw, the blood will…”

“Beef is far more succulent when rare, and the taste is exquisite when it is still slightly bloody.”

He offered a radiant smile as he spoke those words.

The instant she saw that grin, a cold shiver raced down the maid’s spine.

She suddenly understood the source of her unease.

His lips were curved in a smile, but his eyes remained fixed on her, cold and unmoving.

It felt as though her very limbs were turning to stone.

“Is there a problem?”

“That… well…”

Paralyzed by a sudden spike of fear, she struggled to find her voice.

Just then,

“The cook will prepare the meals as he deems appropriate, Young Master.”

Mok Gyeong-un shifted his gaze toward the entrance.

Guard Gam was stepping into the room through the open doorway.

He shook his head with a look of annoyance and dismissed the maid with a wave of his hand.

The girl bowed low and beat a hasty retreat.

Thud!

Guard Gam shut the door and walked toward Mok Gyeong-un.

“Did I not give you fair warning not to draw attention to yourself?”

Mok Gyeong-un lifted a morsel of rice with his chopsticks and replied,

“Does a request for undercooked beef qualify as drawing attention?”

“You are now Mok Gyeong-un, not some criminal on death row.”

“The notes you provided for me to study didn't specify the culinary preferences of the ‘real one.’”

Mok Gyeong-un offered the retort with perfect composure.

‘This brat.’

Guard Gam’s face darkened at the response.

The boy wasn't technically wrong, but his habit of talking back at every opportunity was grating.

It was irritating, and even the way the boy chewed his food felt like an insult.

Guard Gam sat across from him and asked,

“Based on your tone, I take it you have committed everything I gave you to memory?”

“I have. It wasn't particularly difficult.”

“Is that so? Then tell me, what is the name of the first Young Master?”

“Mok Yeong-ho. Twenty years of age. He has a mole on his left cheek and is obsessed with women. He is the most useless of the four brothers, though he is both avaricious and cruel.”

‘…’

Guard Gam’s eyebrow arched in surprise.

The description was flawless.

Since the original Young Master had penned the information himself, it was written with brutal honesty from his own point of view.

“…And the second Young Master?”

“Mok Eun-pyeong. Eighteen years old. He inherited the drooping eyes of the primary wife. He is manipulative and snake-like—a piece of filth who would commit any atrocity to inherit the Sect leadership.”

Mok Gyeong-un recited the words exactly as they had been written.

The aggressive calligraphy of the notes had left a vivid impression of the original’s resentment.

‘It would be far simpler if he were a fool.’

Guard Gam clicked his tongue silently.

As he suspected, the boy was sharp and had absorbed every detail.

There was little point in further testing.

“Shall I describe the fourth Young Master as well? Or perhaps the daily quirks of the real Mok Gyeong-un…”

“That is quite enough.”

“Then, as I am not yet finished with my lunch, may I proceed?”

“Hmph. Eat while you listen.”

“As you wish.”

Guard Gam rose, clasping his hands behind his back while staring out the window.

“You may have learned the facts, but you will have almost no reason to interact with others in this Manor.”

“…Why is that?”

“Even with a perfect face, a long tail is eventually stepped on. The best strategy is to avoid those situations entirely.”

“So you are saying I am to remain hidden in this room?”

“You are quick to understand.”

“This feels remarkably similar to being a prisoner.”

“You chose to be a puppet rather than a corpse. Since you picked this path, you will do exactly as you are told.”

Guard Gam spoke with absolute finality.

He wanted to ensure this clever boy didn't get any grand ideas.

“I simply need to follow orders, then?”

“Precisely.”

“Is there anything else I am required to know?”

“No.”

At Guard Gam’s concluding word, Mok Gyeong-un’s eyes narrowed as he held his chopsticks.

He had been briefed on the surface-level details of the family, but aside from trivial habits that wouldn't expose his identity, he was being kept in the dark.

Most notably, the most critical piece of information was missing.

‘He refuses to tell me why a body double was required in the first place.’

He had anticipated they might withhold this.

Because of this silence, Mok Gyeong-un was certain of one thing.

‘Are they planning to throw me into a lethal situation that specifically requires a sacrificial lamb?’

There was no other logical reason to keep it secret.

They had forced a poison pill down his throat, and with the ‘real’ Mok Gyeong-un dead, he assumed they would value him as their only remaining asset.

But it seemed that wasn't the case.

They likely had another scheme hidden away.

A predatory smirk touched the corners of Mok Gyeong-un’s mouth as he pondered the situation.

‘They are planning to discard me.’

***

Thud!

After exiting the room, Guard Gam spoke to the sharp-eyed man standing watch.

“Ensure he does not leave. If anyone seeks an audience, claim he is unwell or find some other pretext. He must not be seen by anyone.”

“Understood.”

“I will be away for a short time.”

As he turned to go, the guard whispered,

“Captain. Is it truly necessary to switch players?”

“What?”

“You’ve already poisoned him. Wouldn't it be more efficient to simply pull the strings on this fake? After all, the reason you chose the third Young Master was…”

“That boy is trouble.”

“Pardon? What do you mean?”

“I mean he is not a creature that can be easily tamed.”

The guard, Go Chan, scoffed internally at the Captain’s words.

Regardless of his history as a criminal, the boy was just a commoner who knew nothing of martial arts.

It was comical to see the Captain being so cautious.

Perhaps years of serving as a bodyguard after retiring from the front lines had dulled the Captain’s edge.

If the boy was a nuisance, one could simply beat him into submission.

However, despite his private thoughts, he dared not argue with his superior.

“I understand.”

“Keep a sharp eye on him. If he attempts anything foolish, use the Grappling Hand technique to restrain him. I grant you permission to cause him pain—just spare the face.”

“Oho. Is that so?”

“It might actually be a kindness to teach him a lesson early. Regardless, guard him well.”

“Understood.”

Go Chan grinned with cruel satisfaction.

***

Roughly fifteen minutes after Guard Gam’s departure,

The door creaked open.

The middle-aged sentry blocked the way as Mok Gyeong-un attempted to step out.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going for a short walk.”

“To the latrine?”

“No. I thought I’d explore the grounds outside the villa. I was hoping for some conversation; would you care to join me?”

Mok Gyeong-un spoke with an effortless air.

Go Chan shook his head in sheer disbelief at the boy's audacity.

The Captain had barely left, and the brat was already making a break for it?

Go Chan’s voice turned icy.

“If you want to avoid a world of pain, get back inside this instant.”

“Your name is Go Chan, isn't it? I think if we both just stay quiet about this, nothing bad will happen…”

Before Mok Gyeong-un could finish,

Swish swish smack!

Go Chan moved with practiced speed, seizing Mok Gyeong-un’s wrist and wrenching it behind his back.

It was a textbook Grappling Hand Technique.

The Captain had mentioned that while the boy lacked formal training, his physical constitution was strangely dense, making joint manipulation more effective than simple strikes.

‘Nothing to it.’

It felt good to use his skills again; he wasn't rusty at all.

Basking in the ease of the subdual, he leaned in and hissed into Mok Gyeong-un’s ear,

“You’ve forgotten your place. You aren't the real Mok Gyeong-un. Don't make the mistake of provoking me.”

Squeeze!

He applied more pressure to the wrist.

No matter how dense his muscles were, the pain of a twisted joint should be unbearable.

“Now, go back inside and stay there.”

Go Chan growled. He expected the boy to limp back into the room in defeat, but instead,

“And if I refuse?”

“What?”

Go Chan snorted. He had heard the boy was odd, but this was pure insanity.

If he wouldn't go back willingly, what did he think he could possibly do?

“You stupid brat.”

Go Chan brought the edge of his hand down on the back of Mok Gyeong-un’s neck, channeling his internal energy into the blow.

Smack!

With that much force, the boy should have dropped like a stone.

At least, that was the plan. But the sensation was wrong.

It felt like he had struck a solid pillar of oak.

‘What?’

The boy didn't collapse; he didn't even flinch.

Thinking he had simply held back too much, Go Chan prepared to strike harder, but Mok Gyeong-un’s voice cut through the air.

“You really are much weaker than Guard Gam.”

‘This little…!’

It was as if the boy felt no pain at all. How else could he speak so calmly after a strike to the neck?

Feeling a flicker of unease, Go Chan decided to end it. He moved to twist the wrist further and slam the boy face-first into the floor.

However,

Squeeze!

The boy’s arm wouldn't budge. In fact, the boy was slowly but surely straightening his arm against Go Chan’s full strength.

‘Wh- what is this…?’

Panic flared, and Go Chan surged his martial power to its absolute limit.

He no longer cared about the Captain’s orders to be careful. He had to put this monster down now.

But,

‘Huh?’

Before he could even manifest his Qi, his entire body was hoisted into the air with a sudden rush of wind.

He was violently slammed down onto the ground in front of the boy.

Thud!

“Ugh!”

Luckily, the impact wasn't lethal. He tried to spring back to his feet using his internal power, but Mok Gyeong-un’s hand clamped around his throat like a vice.

Squeeze!

“Guh!”

The pressure was terrifying. It felt as though his neck would snap like a dry twig.

Go Chan’s vision blurred as his eyes turned bloodshot.

He clawed desperately at the boy’s wrist, trying to pry the fingers loose.

It was like trying to move a mountain.

‘Wh- what kind of demon is he…? How can a civilian possess such strength…?’

Go Chan was a second-rate warrior. He was twice as strong as any normal man.

Yet he was completely helpless against the single-handed grip of a boy who had never cultivated.

“Guh, guh.”

His oxygen was gone. His face felt like it was about to explode.

In his agonizing struggle, he caught sight of the boy’s expression.

‘He’s… smiling?’

The boy’s grin was stretched wide, almost reaching his ears.

He looked like an innocent child who had just found a fascinating new toy to play with.