A short while later, the sect leader’s aide returned with three small sacks.
“Will this be enough?”
Mok Wana sidled up next to Dang Mujin, and together they opened the sacks.
The first sack contained poisonous herbs, the second medicinal herbs, and the third was filled with venomous creatures.
Mok Wana grimaced as he inspected the contents of the third sack.
“Ugh.”
Even for Mok Wana, who was accustomed to dealing with poisons, the sight was unpleasant. Hundreds, if not thousands, of live insects and snakes writhed and squirmed inside the sack.
‘Looks like these were prepared as food for the jimsé.’
If ordinary insects or small animals were mixed like this, they would have devoured each other in no time, creating chaos.
Yet, the venomous creatures in the sack did not attack one another. They simply squirmed.
Venom recognizes venom. Instinctively, they know that having poison doesn’t guarantee immunity to another’s venom.
Dang Mujin nodded.
“This should be sufficient.”
“Good. If you need more, let me know in advance. This is all we have gathered, and collecting more will take time.”
“Understood.”
The sect leader’s aide left, leaving a silence in the poison chamber. Mok Wana, sensing the moment, approached and asked quietly.
“What you said earlier… was it true?”
The question seemed out of context, making it hard to grasp its meaning. Dang Mujin asked back.
“What do you mean?”
Mok Wana hesitated, speaking in a voice so small it could have slipped into a mouse hole.
“You know, what you said earlier.”
Dang Mujin recalled the conversation. The sect leader’s aide had mentioned something about marriage.
Now he understood the question. Mok Wana seemed bothered by the fact that such a topic was brought up without his consent.
Dang Mujin quickly waved his hand dismissively.
“Sorry about that. I thought it would be easier to get what we wanted without raising suspicion. Don’t worry too much.”
“Worry? Hmm…”
Mok Wana’s reaction was somehow ambiguous.
“Why?”
“No reason. Just wanted to check. Don’t mind it.”
Mok Wana retreated to his small hideout without saying more.
Dang Mujin pondered if he had done something else wrong but couldn’t think of anything.
‘He seems quite upset… but it’ll probably pass.’
Dang Mujin took a small portion of the venomous creatures from the sack and stepped out of the poison chamber.
Dang Mujin’s steps led him toward the sect leader’s hall. The jimsé was still perched on the roof, as it had been before. In the past, he hadn’t thought much of it, but now he had a hunch.
Birds never stay still. Their restlessness is unmatched by any wild or mountain beast.
Whether they have food or not, birds are always on the move. Even when full, they flit about, and when hungry, they are even more industrious.
There is only one situation where a bird remains still: when incubating eggs.
Dang Mujin climbed a tree several yards away and observed the jimsé.
After a considerable time, the jimsé shifted slightly to adjust its position.
In that moment, a glimpse of pink skin appeared between the feathers on its chest.
‘As I thought.’
When birds incubate eggs, they pluck the feathers from their chests. The reason is simple: to transfer their warm body heat directly to the eggs.
The fact that the jimsé’s chest was bare meant it was incubating eggs.
With this confirmation, Dang Mujin approached the sect leader’s hall. With each step closer, the air grew thicker with venom.
Unlike before, when he had to observe from a distance, he could now withstand being within a few yards.
‘I’ll go all the way.’
Dang Mujin reached into his robe and pulled out the antidote. He hadn’t brought it the first time he encountered the masked stranger, but he didn’t make the same mistake the second time.
Unlike before, the antidote had regained its pure white color.
The antidote absorbed venom, turning black as it did, but when left in a venom-free environment, it returned to white.
Dang Mujin hesitated before putting the antidote in his mouth, wiping it a few more times with his sleeve.
‘This should be fine.’
He held the antidote between his lips and teeth. Despite its appearance, the antidote allowed air to pass through, and the air that came through was free of any venom.
Dang Mujin leaped onto the roof of the sect leader’s hall, where the jimsé stared at him. It was an odd feeling to face a bird as large as a person, even without its wings.
The jimsé tilted its head, seemingly displeased, as if it recognized that Dang Mujin wasn’t the usual person who brought it food. Dang Mujin opened the sack slightly, revealing the venomous creatures inside as he approached.
“Here, food. Does it really matter who I am?”
In front of the jimsé was a shallow bowl, evidence that someone had intended to keep it there.
Dang Mujin poured the venomous creatures from the small sack into the bowl. The jimsé, as if it hadn’t eaten in days, pecked at the food voraciously.
While the jimsé was preoccupied with its meal, Dang Mujin gently parted the feathers beneath its belly. There lay an egg, about the size of a human head, with a faint bluish tint.
He had hoped to perhaps save a jimsé chick, but that was impossible. The egg was empty, its contents long gone.
A small hole at the bottom of the egg indicated that someone had extracted everything inside.
Yet, they had been careful not to let the jimsé realize the egg was empty, filling it with dirt, sand, and rice bran to give it weight. Dang Mujin clicked his tongue.
‘Thorough.’
Birds may be simple creatures, but they don’t incubate rotten eggs.
If an egg starts to smell, the mother bird will break it and leave.
Conversely, if there’s no smell, some birds will continue incubating for months, even years.
‘They want it to die incubating the egg.’
Though he pitied the jimsé, Dang Mujin had confirmed what he needed. He descended from the roof and returned to the poison chamber.
While staying in the poison chamber, Dang Mujin occasionally ventured into the village to gauge the atmosphere.
The village was in disarray, evident even to an outsider.
People gathered in hushed groups, whispering, and sometimes there were signs of violence—corpses or bloodstains. Likely, these were the remains of sect members who had resisted the new leader.
Dang Mujin purchased some essentials and asked the merchants.
“Have you seen the Grand Protector… I mean, the sect leader today?”
The merchant, clearly displeased with the new leader, replied with a hint of irritation.
“Today? Yes, I’ve seen him. He roams the village two or three times a day. I don’t know why he wanders around without buying anything.”
“Hmm.”
It had been three days since the Grand Protector had killed the previous leader and taken over.
The new leader roamed the village, occasionally conducting small ceremonies or rituals. It seemed to be a strategy to strengthen his influence and assert his presence.
Dang Mujin chewed on some dried fruit, contemplating.
‘The leader will soon leave.’
The leader was one of the top martial artists in the world and had even acquired a legendary martial arts manual.
For now, he was maintaining external activities to stabilize the sect, but a time would come when he would seclude himself to master the martial arts fully. Having seized control of the sect through sheer force, it was inevitable.
On the fifth day since the Grand Protector took over, the leader’s public appearances ceased.
Dang Mujin observed for a day. But even after two or three days, no one reported seeing the leader.
Instead, the Right and Left Protectors, and occasionally an unfamiliar martial arts master, patrolled the streets, asserting their presence.
‘He must be in seclusion.’
He would emerge stronger, but there was no need to worry about that now.
‘Before it’s too late, I need to find Elder Sam Anbul.’
The leader had spared Sam Anbul on the platform, likely intending to win him over.
Of course, if Sam Anbul continued to resist, he might be killed, but for now, he was likely alive and imprisoned somewhere.
Dang Mujin’s plan to escape Tian Shan was simple: create a distraction, rescue Sam Anbul, and use his martial prowess to escape the vicinity of Tian Shan.
‘If anyone can escape with me, it’s Elder Sam Anbul.’
The problem was that Dang Mujin didn’t know where Sam Anbul was being held. The sect must have a prison, but its location was a mystery.
‘Should I just grab someone and ask? No, that’s a last resort. There must be a way… Ah!’
Dang Mujin sought out the sect leader’s aide who had brought him the venomous creatures.
“What is it? Why are you here?”
“I have an urgent request.”
The aide frowned.
“Urgent? I told you, if you need more venomous creatures, you have to give me advance notice. It takes at least five to ten days.”
“No, it’s not about the creatures. I need something else.”
“What is it?”
“People. I need people trained in martial arts.”
When Dang Mujin spoke in a low, steady voice, the cult leader’s subordinate questioned him.
“A person? For what reason?”
“Well, I’m a physician. What other reason could there be? Whether it’s studying medicine or poison, it all comes down to people in the end.”
Dang Mujin’s vague response seemed to exasperate the subordinate, who gave him a weary look.
“I thought you were just a young doctor, but you’re more formidable than I expected. Even the infamous Maido didn’t rush to find test subjects this quickly.”
“Well, I’ve come all the way from my hometown to the distant Tianshan Mountains. There’s no point in holding back now. When the opportunity arises, you have to seize it and learn as much as you can, right?”
Dang Mujin offered a plausible excuse, and the subordinate, not suspecting anything, clicked his tongue in disbelief.
“You’re lucky. If you’d brought this up during the previous leader’s time, it would’ve been a problem. Maido used to go out and find his own subjects when he needed them.”
“On the flip side, that means I can find them now, doesn’t it?”
“You’re quick on the uptake. You must’ve known what you were getting into. There are so many people who’ve been captured for opposing the leader that the prison is bursting at the seams. A few disappearing won’t cause any issues.”
When someone mentions needing people for experiments, it’s natural to think of those whose disappearance wouldn’t cause a stir.
And in Dang Mujin’s mind, the first people that came to mind were prisoners. Those locked away in the dungeons.
Fortunately, the conversation was heading in the direction he wanted.
“Could I possibly use someone trained in martial arts as a test subject?”
“How skilled do they need to be?”
Mentioning someone of supreme skill would be too suspicious.
Dang Mujin proposed a reasonable compromise: someone skilled enough to be a challenge but not so skilled as to be a threat.
“Someone of first-rate skill would be ideal. If that’s too difficult, someone of decent second-rate skill would suffice.”
“Understood. I’ll check with the higher-ups and bring someone to Dokhyeol tomorrow. Will one be enough?”
Of course, things couldn’t go smoothly to the end. What Dang Mujin needed wasn’t a martial artist as a test subject but the location of the prison holding Sam Anbul. If they brought the prisoner directly to him, it would complicate matters.
“One will be enough. But could I choose the prisoner myself?”
The cult leader’s subordinate glanced at Dang Mujin.
‘Is he suspicious?’
Dang Mujin’s heart skipped a beat, but he maintained a calm demeanor.
Fortunately, the subordinate didn’t seem to find the request unusual.
“There’s no reason you can’t. I was planning to go to the prison myself, so let’s go together.”
“Oh, is that so.”
“Yes. I’m not so influential that I can just point and have someone brought to me. Follow me.”
The subordinate led Dang Mujin up the mountain, walking leisurely.
Past the main hall of the cult, they reached a place surrounded by sheer rock pillars.
A space that, once the entrance was blocked, became inescapable. A natural prison.
‘No wonder it was never found. Who would think to look here?’
There were two flat buildings made of thick stone and iron, and the guards around one of them seemed particularly skilled. There were at least three martial artists of supreme skill visible.
Their expressions were tense.
Seeing their expressions, Dang Mujin felt a surge of satisfaction. It meant someone capable of making three supreme masters nervous was inside that prison.
‘Perfect.’
The subordinate exchanged words with one of the guards, then gestured for Dang Mujin to follow him inside.
Unlike the relatively comfortable underground prison of the Amipa, the cult’s prison was above ground but damp and filled with a chilling cold.
The prisoners inside seemed to number over forty, with two or three in each cell.
Dang Mujin put on a deliberately cruel expression, embodying the persona of a mad doctor ready to conduct human experiments without hesitation.
The prisoners who met his gaze seemed to sense something ominous, shrinking back in fear.
The guard spoke to Dang Mujin.
“You can pick anyone up to first-rate. We’ll pierce their limbs to keep them from resisting.”
The guard, naturally cruel, spoke of brutal measures with ease. Dang Mujin, inwardly clicking his tongue, responded smoothly.
“Thank you for your consideration. If you ever have any discomfort, feel free to visit Dokhyeol. I should repay the favor, shouldn’t I?”
Physicians were scarce in Tianshan. Unlike martial artists, who often left home due to conflicts, doctors rarely had such reasons.
Pleased to have earned Dang Mujin’s goodwill, the guard looked satisfied.
“But prisoners above supreme skill would be too much for you to handle, so pick someone from around here.”
“Understood.”
As Dang Mujin surveyed the cowering prisoners, he kept glancing toward the deeper part of the prison.
From the innermost cell, he saw a foot that was at least one and a half times the size of a normal person’s. It had to be Sam Anbul.
‘This is going well.’
Dang Mujin straightened up and pointed to a suitable prisoner.
“I’ll take this one.”
“Only second-rate?”
“It’s fine. What’s important is their constitution, not their internal energy. I can handle them myself, so there’s no need to pierce their limbs.”
“Alright then.”
As they were about to leave, Dang Mujin heard a familiar voice.
”…You said to trust you, didn’t you? Always bragging about your luck being the best in the world.”
“Who was it that acted all high and mighty, only to fail against just three people?”
“If your skills were on par with mine, you would’ve easily handled three. Seriously.”
Dang Mujin couldn’t believe his ears and glanced toward the source of the voices. Along with the familiar voices, he saw familiar faces.
’…Why are those guys here?’
Two cells down from where Sam Anbul was held, Namgung Myung and Hong Geolgae were imprisoned.