CH 2 #Would I Really Not Recognize You? (1)
– The Hubei Branch of the Murim Alliance.
To the south lay the beautiful Dongting Lake, and behind it, a serene estate nestled among lush green mountains.
Situated in Hubei, a region pacified by the Wudang Sect, it was a small, seemingly tranquil branch of the Murim Alliance.
But this was only the tip of the iceberg—a facade to deceive others. A camouflage tactic.
The true power lay beneath the estate.
The Murim Alliance’s most formidable and secretive intelligence organization, whose very name remained obscure.
Amgak (Shadow Pavilion).
This was their headquarters.
*
“The mission has been assigned to Agent 103.”
In the thick darkness, a masked woman reported to a man seated on a chair adorned with tiger-patterned reliefs.
Her name was Zhuge Somi.
Vice Leader of Amgak (Shadow Pavilion), known in the martial world as Jihwa (知花), a late-stage genius strategist.
“Hmm.”
And the elderly gentleman seated on the chair.
Wearing a traditional headpiece and fluttering a fan as if Zhuge Liang himself had been reborn, he was none other than the leader of Amgak—Zhuge Sang, former chief strategist of the Murim Alliance.
“But, Grandfather—”
“Zhuge! Separate personal and professional matters!”
“M-my apologies, Leader.”
Zhuge Somi stiffened and immediately dropped into a deep bow. Just this morning, they’d walked hand in hand, chatting amiably on their way here. Why did he adopt this stern persona the moment they entered these halls?
She longed to rip off her mask and confront him, but before he was her grandfather, he was Zhuge Sang—a man who could survey the world without leaving his seat. Showing respect was non-negotiable.
“Speak.”
With Zhuge Sang’s permission, she brushed aside her frustrations and cut to the chase.
“This mission you’ve given Agent 103—to elevate the Seventh Prince to Young Sect Leader. What is your intention, Leader?”
“Intention?”
“Yes. Agent 103 has been sidelined within Amgak. He’s a ghost. Asking him to promote a troublemaker even the Sect Leader discarded… It’s impossible.”
“Hmm…”
Zhuge Sang neither agreed nor disagreed, his gaze detached.
“How long do you believe the current peace in the martial world will last?”
“Huh? Well… That depends, doesn’t it?”
“Three years.”
He raised three fingers.
“Exactly three years remain.”
“That’s impossible…”
“This peace was forged by our generation. And we’ve grown old. The time has come to welcome a new era.”
“But so abruptly…?”
Zhuge Sang fell silent. There’s more to this, she realized, reading his expression. She didn’t press further. The Zhuge family did not pry into unanswered questions—they uncovered answers themselves.
“The Heavenly Demon, Jin Wookwang, bestowed divine relics upon his seven children but took none as disciples.”
Zhuge Sang shifted topics. Zhuge Somi nodded. She knew this better than anyone. For 19 years, Jin Wookwang had adopted talented individuals within the Demonic Sect as sons and daughters, regardless of background.
“At first, it seemed he was grooming successors. Yet for reasons unknown, he never taught any of them the peerless Heavenly Demon Divine Art.”
“He will soon name the Young Sect Leader.”
It was a statement, not a guess. Zhuge Somi’s expression darkened like storm clouds.
“The frontrunners are the First Prince, Second Prince, and Third Princess. None… would be favorable for us.”
She was right. All three harbored ruthlessly ambitious natures. Any of them becoming the Heavenly Demon could shatter the fragile peace.
“Nineteen years. Throughout this time, Amgak has labored solely for peace. Now, we must reap what we’ve sown.”
“But making the Seventh Prince the Young Sect Leader…”
“When facing a formidable enemy, you don’t rely on a single strategy. You employ many. Have I not taught you this repeatedly?”
“Ah—”
It clicked. This wasn’t about staking everything on Agent 103—it was about mobilizing all available strategies.
Of course. Her grandfather would never resort to reckless gambits. This was Zhuge Sang, the man revered as the greatest strategist across generations.
“Thank you. My doubts are resolved. I’ll meet with the agents now.”
Zhuge Somi bowed and retreated with lighter steps.
Yet there was one thing she still didn’t know:
Agent 103 hadn’t been sidelined—he’d been concealed. And when confronting a powerful foe, one must always hide a decisive variable among their strategies.
Heh. Zhuge Sang chuckled, fan swaying as his blurred gaze fixed on a memory.
A child brimming with both resentment and righteousness for the world.
Room 103.
The third agent to pass the grueling training with a perfect score, and the audacious kid who, at fourteen, mastered all the profound martial mysteries even elders only grasped in their twilight years—without any inner strength—and wounded the sect leader himself.
Amgak’s greatest wildcard.
Jang Yi-seo.
"I wonder how you’ve grown. I’m already looking forward to it."
A faint smile lingered on Zhuge Sang’s lips.
"Sssss, haa."
While Zhuge Sang, Amgak’s leader, anticipated Jang Yi-seo’s growth, the man himself pressed a gold ingot to his nose and exhaled oddly.
"Smelling money really sharpens the mind. Give me a problem. I’ll solve anything right now."
No one was there to challenge him, but it seemed Jang Yi-seo had matured in ways diverging from Zhuge Sang’s expectations.
After receiving last night’s mission, dawn had arrived.
His worn bed overflowed with gold ingots, and a chill breeze seeped through the cracked ceiling.
"Need to visit the village."
The more he dwelled on it, the more irritated he grew. The agent who’d left a covert message and vanished—wasn’t he also Amgak? Yet he’d fled, sword drawn, hiding his identity. What did that imply?
"If I’m unlucky, it means being discarded like used trash."
He scratched his forehead. He’d anticipated this. Someone from Amgak was surely watching, waiting to make contact. But such blunt methods were unacceptable now. This house hid secrets no one could know.
"You don’t know everything about me."
Jang Yi-seo sighed, rolling his stiff neck. Simplicity was key when things tangled.
"If I ignore orders, I’ll be isolated. The mission’s reward is guardianship of my sibling. I’ll do it. I’ll do it."
But how?
He was merely a 7th-rank officer in the Anti-Espionage Unit’s Third Division. The Seventh Prince, a 1st-rank noble, resided in an inaccessible small palace. Progress required at least a meeting.
"No choice. I’ll change positions."
A shame—the Unit was perfect for hoarding wealth and climbing ranks. But sacrifices had to be made.
"If I ask the Unit Leader to reassign me, he’ll refuse, right?"
Absolutely. Gyeomsaik, the Unit’s greed-driven leader, surpassed even Jang Yi-seo’s avarice. The man lived for accolades and gold. Letting go his top arrest officer and tribute contributor? Unthinkable.
"Bribes, then. Everyone has a price. It’s just a question of amount."
Jang Yi-seo smirked, approaching the sunlit window. Outside lay still, devoid of even ants. Daylight brought safety.
Humming, he rolled up the rug and pried at the pristine floorboards.
Creak.
Frequent dismantling left no resistance. A hidden path? No—just packed earth. But this was misdirection.
"A spy’s essence is layered deception."
He loaded yesterday’s gold onto a frame, fetched shovels and jars from the yard, and began excavating. Sweat soaked him as he dug until a hidden lid emerged—a round plank sealing a downward path.
Removing it revealed a well-like shaft with a ladder.
The passage.
After securing the gold, he covered the hole with the rug and descended. At the bottom, a narrow side tunnel appeared. Ancient reliefs adorned its walls, flanking sporadic torches.
Seven years prior, he’d discovered this place while hiding stolen goods in an abandoned well. Retrieving them, he’d found coded braille. His mastery of ciphers—honed through Amgak’s perfect-score training—unlocked it. Even past sect leaders had forgotten this place.
But the true marvel came later.
After walking, the ceiling vaulted upward, halted by a colossal wall. Jang Yi-seo eyed a torch bracket. Click. Click. Twisting it sideways twice, he triggered a rumble. The wall shuddered, grinding open.
{"answer": "Ssshhh, haaah."
Jang I-seo closed his eyes with an emotionally charged expression and drew a deep breath.
When he abruptly opened them again—
This couldn't be happening.
A colossal cavern materialized before his eyes.
A mystical, luminescent space filled with glittering treasures and wafting blue mist.
"Welcome back, Cheonmago (天魔庫)."
This was the opportunity Jang I-seo had gained after infiltrating the Demonic Cult as a spy.
The moment when the treasure hoard hidden deep in the Ten Demon Mountains finally revealed itself to the world.
*
Cheonmago (天魔庫).
Truthfully, the name wasn't definitive. When Jang I-seo first discovered this place, only the characters for "Heavenly Demon" had been carved prominently on one wall. The rest was his own deduction.
But its identity as a treasure vault was undeniable.
The central mound of gold and silver shone blindingly bright, while the perimeter displayed extraordinary weapons on ornate stands that defied ordinary standards.
An astronomical fortune. With this wealth, nothing would be beyond his reach.
But.
"No wonder people favor the Demonic Cult. Three generations of Martial Alliance labor couldn't amass this much gold."
Jang I-seo gleefully dumped his carried gold ingots into the central pile with a clatter.
Here lay the truth—
None of these riches had originally belonged to Cheonmago. This was his decade's accumulation from anti-espionage operations. A true virtuoso of embezzlement and tax evasion.
Which made the situation stranger.
Why call this place a treasure vault then?
The answer lay elsewhere.
"Let's finish this in one go."
Jang I-seo advanced twenty paces from the cavern's massive inner wall. Up close, the structure revealed its peculiarities.
The broad surface emitted faint azure light—
No ordinary stone formation.
Countless intricate grooves covered its surface like etched maze patterns.
This was the Demon Wall (魔壁).
Why?
Seeing believes.
#How Could I Possibly Not Recognize You (1)
– Martial Alliance Hubei Branch
A tranquil estate overlooking picturesque Dongting Lake to the south, backed by verdant mountain ranges.
Situated in Wudang-controlled Hubei territory, it appeared to be just another peaceful provincial branch.
But this serenity formed merely the visible tip—a deliberate facade.
The true facility lay underground.
Home to the Martial Alliance's most powerful yet obscure intelligence organization:
Amgak (Dark Edge).
*
"Mission assigned to Agent 103."
In lightless depths, a masked woman approached a man enthroned beneath tiger relief carvings.
Zhuge Somi—
Deputy Leader of Amgak, martial world's renowned genius Zhihua (知花).
"Hmm."
The elderly gentleman fanning himself like a reincarnated Zhuge Liang—
Amgak's leader and former Martial Alliance strategist, Zhuge Sang.
"But Grandfather—"
"Zhuge! Maintain professional decorum!"
"Apologies, Sect Leader."
Zhuge Somi immediately prostrated herself. Their morning commute had been all familial warmth—why did he transform into this austere figure here?
Though tempted to remove her mask and argue, she remembered: before being her grandfather, he was Zhuge Sang who perceived all under heaven from his seat.
Protocol demanded respect.
"State your inquiry."
With permission granted, Zhuge Somi voiced her confusion:
"Assigning Agent 103 to make Chil Gong-ja the Young Cult Leader—what's your intent?"
"Intent?"
"Yes. Agent 103's been neglected for years—a ghost operative. Yet you task him with elevating even the Cult Leader's rejected delinquent? It's impossible."
"How long," Zhuge Sang countered impassively, "do you believe our martial world's peace will endure?"
"That's... situation-dependent, surely?"
"Three years."
Three raised fingers emphasized his words.
"Precisely three."
"Impossible..."
"This peace was our generation's creation. We've aged. The new era approaches regardless."
"But so abruptly...?"
Zhuge Sang's silence spoke volumes. His granddaughter recognized the unspoken truth but pressed no further—the Zhuge clan never demanded explicit answers.
"Demon Sovereign Jin Wuguang bestowed relics upon seven children," the elder changed subjects, "yet never accepted disciples."
Zhuge Somi nodded. For nineteen years, Jin had adopted talented Demonic Cult members regardless of origin.
"Initially appearing to groom successors, yet never teaching his peerless Heavenly Demon Divine Art."
"He'll soon appoint a Young Cult Leader."
Not conjecture—certainty. Zhuge Somi's face clouded.
"Prime candidates are Il Gong-ja, Yi Gong-ja, Sam Gong-nyeo—all disastrous for us."
All three possessed tyrannical dispositions. Any becoming Heavenly Demon would shatter the fragile peace.
"Nineteen years Amgak has cultivated peace. Now we reap the harvest."
"But making Chil Gong-ja..."
"When facing strong enemies, don't confront—entangle. Have I not taught this?"
"Ah..." Comprehension dawned.}
egal Somy felt as if her mind had been blasted open. So that's how it was. This wasn’t about betting everything on Room 103 - it meant mobilizing every available resource.
Of course, her grandfather would never resort to such reckless methods. Who was Jegal Sang? The man who'd reigned as history's greatest strategist from past to present.
"Thank you. That answers my questions. I'll go meet the agents now."
Jegal Somy gave a shallow bow and retreated with lightened footsteps.
Yet there remained one thing she didn't know.
It was...
'Room 103 wasn't neglected. It was concealed. And when facing powerful opponents, you must always hide a game-changing variable within the multitude.'
Heh heh heh. Jegal Sang swayed his fan with unfocused eyes. A figure materialized in his mind - a child overflowing with worldly resentment and righteous fury.
Room 103.
The third agent to ace the brutal training program. The impudent brat who, at fourteen with no internal energy, mastered all the martial secrets elders only grasped in old age - even wounding the sect leader.
Amgak's ultimate wildcard.
Jang Yi-seo.
'I wonder how you've grown. The anticipation alone excites me.'
A satisfied smile graced Jegal Sang's lips.
"Ssssss, haaa."
While Amgak's leader Jegal Sang awaited Jang Yi-seo's development, the man in question pressed a gold bar to his nose, exhaling strange breath sounds.
"Money's scent really clears my head. Give me a problem - I'll solve it instantly."
Though no one stood to challenge him, it seemed Jang Yi-seo had matured slightly differently than Jegal Sang anticipated.
Having received last night's mission, he now faced dawn's light. Gold bars littered his worn bedframe while chilly wind poured through the cracked ceiling.
"Need to visit the village."
The more he pondered, the more irritated he grew. That bastard who'd left a covert message before vanishing - technically an Amgak comrade, yet he'd hidden his identity and fled sword-first. What message did that convey?
'Means they'll discard me like trash if I slip up.'
He scratched his forehead. He'd expected this. Amgak watchers were surely observing from somewhere, waiting to make contact when时机 ripened. But while such rudeness might have been tolerable before, it complicated matters now.
This house held secrets even its owner didn't fully grasp.
"You don't know everything about me."
Huuu. Jang Yi-seo exhaled sharply and jerked his neck. Complex situations demanded simple solutions.
"Disobey orders and get stranded. Complete the mission and they'll care for my sibling. Fine. I'll do it."
But how?
Currently a mere 7th-rank Anti-Espionage Unit officer, he faced Chil Gong-ja - 1st-rank nobility residing in an impregnable minor palace. Just getting audience would be progress.
"No choice - need position change."
True enough. Pity. No better place than the Unit for accumulating wealth and influence.
But necessities demanded sacrifice.
"The boss would never approve a transfer, right?"
Obviously. The division chief out-greeded even him. Stories abounded, but one truth stood clear - the man was money-obsessed. No chance he'd release his top arrest-rate officer and tribute contributor.
Begging wouldn't work.
"Bribery remains. Everyone has their price - it's just a matter of digits."
Jang Yi-seo smirked and approached sunlit windows. No movement outside - daytime's safety prevailed.
Humming, he rolled up the rug and pried at pristine floorboards.
Creak.
The wood surrendered easily, like familiar ground. An underground path?
No. Only packed earth. Then why...?
Misdirection.
'A spy's essence is layered deception.'
He loaded yesterday's gold onto a carrier, fetched backyard shovels and jars, then began earthmoving. Minutes passed. Hours. Sweat-drenched and digging, he finally exposed hidden contours - a circular lid sealing a downward path.
Removing it revealed a well-like shaft with ladder.
The secret tunnel.
After securing his load and repositioning the rug, he descended. At the well's base emerged a narrow fork - walls bearing ancient reliefs, sporadic torches illuminating antiquities.
Seven years prior, he'd discovered this place while hiding stolen goods in what seemed an abandoned well. Retrieving them revealed the passage - and the colossal secret it guarded.
Of course, the hidden path wasn’t open like this back then. It was inscribed with braille-like coded language, and only Jang I-seo—proficient in dozens of such ciphers—could unlock it after extensive study.
Had it not been for him, a perfect-score codebreaker, the path might have remained sealed forever.
This place seemed to have been forgotten for so long that even the sect leader of that era hadn’t known of its existence.
But the real astonishment was yet to come.
After walking for an indeterminate time, the ceiling abruptly vaulted upward, and a colossal wall barred the way forward.
Jang I-seo idly studied the nearby torch stand, clicked it twice, and twisted it sideways.
Then—
Rumbleeeee!
A faint vibration hummed through the air before the wall began to split open with a deafening roar.
“Ssshu… haa.”
Jang I-seo closed his eyes, trembling with awe, and drew a long breath.
When he snapped them open again—
“This can’t be real.”
A vast cavern sprawled before him.
A mystical, luminous space brimming with gold and jewels, all shrouded in swirling blue mist.
“Greetings, Heavenly Demon Vault.”
This was the opportunity Jang I-seo had gained by infiltrating the Demon Sect as a spy.
The moment the treasure hoard, meticulously hidden within the Ten Demon Mountains, unveiled itself to the world.
*
Heavenly Demon Vault.
To be precise, the name was speculative. When Jang I-seo first discovered this place, only the characters “천마” (Heavenly Demon) were etched prominently on one wall—hence his deduction.
Yet its identity as a treasure vault was indisputable.
At its center, a mountain of gold and silver gleamed with eye-watering brilliance. Along the perimeter, extraordinary weapons rested on display stands, each radiating an aura of power.
An astronomical fortune. With this wealth, no ambition would be out of reach.
But.
“No wonder I prefer the Demon Sect. Three generations of the Martial Alliance’s labor couldn’t scrape together this much gold.”
Chuckling gleefully, Jang I-seo dumped the gold ingots he’d carried into the central pile.
Correct.
This wealth hadn’t belonged to the vault originally. It was his decade’s worth of embezzlement from the anti-espionage division—a masterclass in fund diversion and tax evasion.
Yet this raised a question:
Why call it a “treasure vault” at all?
The answer lay elsewhere.
“Hah… let’s finish this in one move.”
Jang I-seo strode deeper into the cavern, halting twenty paces from an enormous wall. Up close, its strangeness became apparent.
The broad surface glowed faintly blue.
This was no ordinary stone.
Its face was carved with countless thin, intricate grooves—a labyrinthine pattern that seemed to writhe under one’s gaze.
This was the Demon Wall (魔壁, Mabyeok).
Why that name?
As the saying goes: Hearing a hundred times isn’t worth seeing once.
