225.
〈Showdown Within the Poisoned Haze〉
Park Seong-jin closed the door and stepped inside.
The chamber was sealed on all sides, a space he himself had designed.
Within the walls there were no channels leading outward; in the ceiling, pathways of circulating currents were interlaced like a quiet breath.
This was a device built not for people, but for qi to breathe.
He sat at the center of the room.
Hands resting on his knees, he closed his eyes.
His breath rose and fell in haste at first, then gradually steadied.
Circulating the breath, regulating the body.
He could not rush.
If the flow broke even once, all the cultivation he had built would collapse.
The heat that had coiled through his lungs slowly settled.
In its place, a clear current seeped down from the crown of his head.
His heartbeat returned to its proper rhythm.
Only then did judgment crystallize.
The antidote contained in the enemy's vial had been genuine.
When he opened his eyes, the air inside the chamber was already clear.
Outside, however, the currents were different.
A thought flashed like lightning and struck his heart.
That poison will reach others.
He rose at once.
From the storehouse he took up his bow, ran up the wall like wind, and gained the roof.
Beneath a moon-dimmed sky, a veil of haze lay pooled like a shallow valley.
Within it, faint silhouettes were moving.
"There."
He drew the bowstring.
Piiik—
An arrow cut the darkness and buried itself somewhere in the haze.
A brief scream—one body fell.
He turned instantly and loosed three arrows in succession.
They rode the grain of the wind and scattered.
One pierced a chest, one split a thigh, one tore through a shoulder.
Yet several had already concealed themselves.
Hands did not stop feeding the poisonous mist.
An unseen pressure surged again; the roof tiles trembled faintly.
"They're continuing."
Park Seong-jin stowed the bow.
Lowering himself over the edge of the roof, he dropped soundlessly into the courtyard, timing his landing with a gap in the moonlight.
He thinned the force in his steps and buried his breath.
A breeze passed; his shadow wavered.
Another shadow overlapped it.
A seam in the current.
He waited for that instant.
A blade flicked out of the dark.
Park Seong-jin twisted and caught it with his hand.
His palm split open, but the blade went no farther.
His left hand seized the man's nape at once.
Power gathered at his fingertips.
The body convulsed, vibrating as if its organs were being wrung from within.
A moment later, the breath went out.
He lifted his gaze and scanned the area.
Two remained.
One behind the wall.
The other, farther off by the well.
He crouched and picked up a stone.
With a light flick—
Tok.
The stone cut the air and struck the man by the well squarely at the temple.
As the last one tried to flee, Park Seong-jin moved like a gust.
He drew a short blade and drove in from behind.
Chk.
The blade slid through flesh.
He twisted, snapping the man's wrist.
A vial of poison dropped from the loosened hand.
The vial shattered, and white fumes rose.
Park Seong-jin stopped his breath at once.
He swept his arm, breaking the current.
The mist pressed downward, settling against the ground.
Moments later, all movement ceased.
He stepped back and drew in the night air, waiting until it fully settled.
Then he examined the fallen.
"No names."
There were no marks of identity in their pouches—
only small bottles of unnamed drugs and antidotes.
And, etched deep into the skin, a single tattoo emerged.
影.shadow그림자
Only that one character remained.