Dawn came with pain.
Every muscle in my body screamed as I forced myself awake. Yesterday's exertions—the work, the stance training, the body disposal—had pushed me past my limits. Now I was paying the price.
Good. Pain meant growth.
I found Yoon already awake in the forge, working on a blade. He glanced at me as I stumbled in.
"Can you move?"
"Barely."
"Perfect. That means you actually worked yesterday." He set down his hammer. "Most people would take today off. Rest, recover. But we don't have that luxury. Kang will expect you at his shop, and we can't make him suspicious."
"I know."
"So here's what you're going to do. You're going to go to work, act normal, and pay attention to everything. Who visits Kang, what they talk about, any changes in his routine. Meanwhile, I'll start asking around quietly—see if anyone else in the village knows about his bandit connections."
"He'll notice if you're too obvious."
"I won't be. I've been in this village for ten years. People trust me." He pulled out a small cloth bundle. "Take this. Herbs for muscle pain. Mix it in hot water and drink it. Won't eliminate the pain, but it'll help."
I took the bundle. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. Tonight, your real training starts. And it's going to make yesterday look easy." He smiled grimly. "Now get going. You're going to be late."
I arrived at Kang's shop just as the sun cleared the horizon. He was already there, looking irritated.
"You're late."
"The sun just rose. I'm exactly on time."
His eyes narrowed. "Don't get smart with me, boy. Where were you last night?"
My heart rate increased, but I kept my expression neutral. "At Grandmother Cho's house. Where else would I be?"
"I heard she wasn't there. That she'd gone to stay with the blacksmith."
So he already knew. Had he sent someone to check? Or did he have informants watching?
"She did," I said calmly. "She was feeling ill and didn't want to be alone. I stayed at her house to make sure no one broke in while it was empty."
"How thoughtful." His tone suggested he didn't believe me. "And you saw nothing unusual? No one lurking around?"
"No. It was quiet all night."
He studied me for a long moment, then turned away. "Get to work. I need you to go through the accounts from last month. Check for any discrepancies."
I spent the morning doing exactly that, while also cataloging every visitor to the shop. Three customers buying supplies. Two men who looked like farmers but moved like fighters—probably bandits checking in. And one well-dressed stranger who spoke with Kang privately in the back room.
I couldn't hear their conversation, but I watched their body language through the doorway. The stranger was angry about something. Kang was defensive, placating. Money changed hands—a lot of it, from the size of the pouch.
When the stranger left, Kang was pale and sweating.
"Boy!" he called. "Come here."
I entered the back room. "Yes?"
"I need you to make a delivery. Tonight, after dark." He handed me a sealed letter. "Take this to the old temple ruins, three li north of the village. There will be someone waiting. Give them the letter, wait for a response, bring it back to me."
Three li north. That was deep in the forest, far from any witnesses.
This was either a test or a trap.
"What if no one's there?" I asked.
"They'll be there. Just do as I say." His voice was sharp. "And boy? Don't try to read the letter. It's sealed for a reason."
"Understood."
I returned to the front room, my mind analyzing. Kang was sending me into the forest at night, to a remote location, to meet unknown people. The probability that this was dangerous was extremely high.
But it was also an opportunity. If I could see who Kang was working with, learn more about the bandit operation, that information would be invaluable.
I just needed to survive the encounter.
The rest of the day passed slowly. More customers, more transactions, more data to memorize. Kang was distracted, constantly checking the street, jumping at sudden noises.
He was afraid. The assassin's failure had rattled him.
Good. Fear made people sloppy.
As the sun began to set, Kang dismissed me.
"Remember. Old temple ruins, three li north. Don't be late, and don't lose that letter."
"I won't."
I left the shop and headed straight for Yoon's forge. He was closing up for the day, Min-ji helping him organize tools.
"We need to talk," I said quietly.
He caught my tone and nodded. "Min-ji, go inside. Start dinner."
"But Father—"
"Inside. Now."
She left reluctantly, and Yoon turned to me. "What happened?"
I explained about the letter, the temple ruins, the meeting.
Yoon's expression darkened. "That's a trap. He's sending you to the bandits, probably told them you're a spy or a threat. They'll kill you and dump your body where no one will find it."
"Maybe. Or maybe he really does need a messenger and thinks I'm too weak to be a threat."
"Either way, you're not going alone." He went into the forge and emerged with two swords—his own and a shorter blade. "You'll take this. It's not much, but it's better than nothing."
I took the sword, testing its weight. Heavier than the bokken, the balance different. "I don't know how to use this."
"You know the basics. Grip, stance, the concept of distance and timing. That'll have to be enough." He strapped on his own sword. "I'll follow you at a distance. If things go bad, I'll intervene."
"That's risky. If they see you—"
"They won't. I was a temple disciple, remember? I know how to move unseen." He gripped my shoulder. "You're not dying tonight, boy. Not if I can help it."
There was something in his voice—determination, maybe even affection. He'd lost a son. He didn't want to lose another boy, even one he'd known for less than a week.
Humans and their emotional attachments. Inefficient, but also... comforting.
"Thank you," I said.
"Thank me by staying alive. Now go. You don't want to be late."
The forest at night was a different world.
Every shadow could hide a threat. Every sound could be an enemy approaching. My senses were on high alert, processing every detail.
The temple ruins appeared after twenty minutes of walking—a collapsed structure, stone walls overgrown with vines, the roof long since fallen in. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting everything in silver and black.
I approached cautiously, the letter in one hand, the sword hidden under my shirt.
"You're the messenger?" A voice from the shadows.
"Yes."
A figure emerged—a man in his thirties, lean and dangerous-looking. Not the assassin from last night, but cut from the same cloth. A professional.
"Let me see the letter."
I held it out, and he snatched it, breaking the seal and reading quickly. His expression shifted from neutral to angry.
"This is it? This is Kang's response?" He crumpled the letter. "That fat fool thinks he can negotiate? After what happened?"
"I'm just the messenger," I said carefully. "I don't know what the letter says."
"It says he wants more time. More money. More excuses." The man stepped closer. "You know what we do to people who waste our time, boy?"
My hand moved to the sword under my shirt. "I'm just delivering messages. Whatever problem you have is with Kang, not me."
"True. But you're here, and he's not." The man drew a knife. "So you get to pay his debts."
He moved fast, the knife coming up in a practiced strike aimed at my throat.
I moved faster.
Not because I was skilled—I wasn't. But because I'd been analyzing his stance, his weight distribution, his micro-expressions. I'd calculated the most likely attack vector and prepared a response.
I ducked under the knife, drew my sword, and slashed wildly. No technique, no form, just desperate survival instinct.
The blade caught his arm, drawing blood. He cursed and jumped back.
"You little—"
An arrow sprouted from his shoulder.
He spun, and I saw Yoon emerge from the trees, bow in hand, another arrow already nocked.
"Drop the knife," Yoon said calmly. "Or the next one goes through your throat."
The man assessed the situation—wounded, outnumbered, facing a skilled archer. He dropped the knife.
"Smart choice." Yoon moved closer, keeping the arrow trained on him. "Now. You're going to answer some questions."
"I don't know anything—"
"Wrong answer." Yoon's arrow shifted slightly, pointing at the man's knee. "I can make this very painful, or you can cooperate. Your choice."
The man hesitated, then began to speak.
And I listened, memorizing every word.
Twenty minutes later, we had everything.
The bandit camp was five li west, hidden in a valley. Twenty-three members, led by a man called "Scarface" Deng. They'd been operating in the region for two years, with Kang providing information about targets in exchange for a cut of the profits.
But recently, someone new had arrived. Someone from the city, a martial artist with real skill. He'd taken over the operation, pushed for more aggressive raids, bigger targets.
"What's his name?" Yoon asked.
"Wei Liang. They call him Ghost Blade." The man spat blood. "He's dangerous. Ki Transformation stage. You don't want to mess with him."
Yoon and I exchanged glances. Wei Liang. The name meant nothing to me, but Yoon's expression suggested recognition.
"Ghost Blade," Yoon muttered. "I heard he was expelled from Moonlit Willow Sect years ago. Didn't know he was in this region."
"He showed up three months ago. Took over from Scarface, started running things his way." The man looked at us. "You're planning to go after them, aren't you? You're insane. Even with your archery skills, you can't beat twenty-three fighters and a Ki Transformation martial artist."
Ki Transformation. I cataloged the term, cross-referencing with Jin Seo-yun's fragmentary memories of martial arts.
Ki cultivation stages: Sensing → Circulation → Manifestation → Transformation → Unity. Each stage represents exponential power increase. Yoon is Manifestation stage—can project Ki externally, enhance strikes. Transformation stage can imbue attacks with elemental properties. Fire, ice, lightning. The gap between stages isn't linear—it's a chasm. A Transformation stage martial artist could kill ten Manifestation stage fighters.
The numbers weren't favorable.
"We'll see." Yoon lowered his bow. "You're going to run now. Far away. If I see you in this region again, I'll kill you. Understood?"
The man nodded and stumbled off into the forest, clutching his wounded shoulder.
After he was gone, I turned to Yoon. "You let him go. He'll warn them."
"I know. But we got what we needed—information. And now they'll be nervous, uncertain. That works in our favor."
"How? They outnumber us, and their leader is far stronger than either of us."
"True. Which is why we're not going to fight them head-on." Yoon smiled grimly. "We're going to be smart about this. Use their own tactics against them. Hit them when they're vulnerable, scattered, unprepared."
"Guerrilla warfare."
"Exactly. You know the term?"
"I read about it. Small forces using mobility and surprise to defeat larger ones."
"Smart boy. That's exactly what we're going to do." He started walking back toward the village. "But first, we need to deal with Kang. He's the real problem. Cut off the head, and the body dies."
"When?"
"Soon. Very soon." He looked at me. "You did well tonight. That slash wasn't pretty, but it was effective. You're learning."
"I got lucky. If you hadn't been there—"
"But I was. That's the point of having allies." He paused. "You're not alone in this, Seo-yun. Remember that."
Not alone. The concept was still foreign, but becoming less so.
I had allies now. People who would fight beside me, protect me, teach me.
That was a resource more valuable than any weapon or technique.
We returned to the village in silence, both of us thinking about what came next.
Kang needed to die. The bandits needed to be dealt with. And I needed to get much, much stronger.
But for the first time since my transmigration, I felt like I had a path forward. A plan. A purpose beyond mere survival.
I would eliminate the threats to this village. I would protect the people who'd helped me. And I would grow strong enough that no one could ever make me feel helpless again.
That was my calculus. My equation for survival.
And I would solve it, one variable at a time.
END CHAPTER 5