At the edge of Majeon, in the quarters of the Death Shadow Corps.
In front of the training ground paved with bluestone, about twenty martial artists lay sprawled out.
They were the members of the First and Third Squads.
Rumble.
At that moment, Wi Cheongyeong and the Second Squad members, drenched in sweat from practicing in the bamboo grove, returned to the quarters.
“What are you all doing here?” Wi Cheongyeong asked.
Won Semun, lying on his side, waved a hand dismissively. “Just pass by. We’re tired.”
“What does being tired have to do with training?” Wi Cheongyeong pressed.
“What’s the point of training?” Won Semun sighed, dropping his head. “Our leader is gone.”
Wi Cheongyeong’s eyes wavered like ripples on water.
Until now, the division members had silently waited for news of Bu Eunseol. But the impatient members of the First and Third Squads had reached their limit.
“I heard they recalled the entire search party tracking the leader’s traces,” Won Semun said.
“That’s just a rumor. Nothing’s confirmed,” Wi Cheongyeong countered.
“It’s hopeless anyway,” Won Semun muttered.
“Won Semun!” Wi Cheongyeong snapped.
“Don’t yell,” Won Semun said, groaning as he sat up, his voice weak. “Without our leader, we’re just soulless shells.”
Wi Cheongyeong was speechless.
The Death Shadow Corps members were originally reckless rogues, fearless of heaven or earth. But meeting Bu Eunseol, their steadfast pillar, they had pulled themselves together, unleashing their full potential.
Just as they were striving for greater achievements, this happened.
Rumble.
Footsteps approached, and dozens of martial artists stood before the Death Shadow Corps’s quarters.
At the forefront was a smug middle-aged man, grinning broadly—Gok Jindong, the leader of the Extinction Corps, once humiliated by Won Semun for mocking their former rootless status.
“Haha, enjoying yourselves?” Gok Jindong said, leaning forward with a smirk at the sprawled Won Semun and First Squad members. “My, you’re all resting so well.”
The members’ eyes turned sharp as axes.
His intentions were obvious from his tone and behavior.
“Leader Gok,” Wi Cheongyeong said, frowning. “What’s your business here?”
“Business? Just passing by,” Gok Jindong said, grinning. “Your Death Shadow Corps leader still hasn’t shown up, huh?”
“None of your concern,” Wi Cheongyeong retorted.
“No, I’m worried, that’s all,” Gok Jindong said.
“What do you mean?” Wi Cheongyeong asked.
“Oh, you haven’t heard? Well, without a leader, you wouldn’t get meeting updates,” Gok Jindong said, baring his teeth in a wide smile. “A few days ago, an order came down to recall the search party.”
“Is that true?” Wi Cheongyeong asked, his usually calm eyes sparking with fire.
Even for someone like Gok Jindong, who disliked the Death Shadow Corps, such a claim wasn’t something to joke about.
Recalling the search party meant Majeon had given up on Bu Eunseol.
‘Did the main sect really abandon finding our leader?’ Wi Cheongyeong thought.
At that moment, about twenty members descended from the bamboo grove toward the training ground.
It was Myo Cheon-woo, Yoo Unryong, and the members of the Fourth and Fifth Squads they led.
Seeing Gok Jindong and the Extinction Corps members, Myo Cheon-woo frowned, sensing the tense atmosphere. He turned to Wi Cheongyeong. “What’s going on?”
“It seems the main sect has given up on our leader,” Wi Cheongyeong replied.
“Given up?” Myo Cheon-woo echoed.
“They recalled the search party,” Wi Cheongyeong said.
“Khehe,” Gok Jindong chuckled. “What a shame. Right after becoming a squad leader, this happens…”
His words were cut short.
A terrifying aura emanated from Myo Cheon-woo and Yoo Unryong.
‘Oh, right. Those two are among the Ten Demon Warriors.’
Realizing their prowess rivaled second-tier Corps Leaders or higher, Gok Jindong cleared his throat and quickly turned away. “Well, excuse me then. Ahem.”
The Extinction Corps members hurriedly followed their leader, fleeing in a rush.
“So it’s come to this,” Won Semun sighed.
The eyes of most Death Shadow Corps members dimmed. Without Bu Eunseol, the Death Shadow Corps couldn’t survive. They would return to being rootless, wandering Majeon.
“This is laughable,” Yoo Unryong said, looking down at the members with a cold smile. “All that talk about ‘leader this, leader that,’ and this is all you’ve got?”
Myo Cheon-woo waved a hand dismissively. “Let them be. They don’t really know him yet.”
The members looked puzzled by their conversation.
“You’re saying our leader is alive?” Wi Cheongyeong asked.
Yoo Unryong let out a grim chuckle. “Alive? Heh.” His face turned icy, as if coated in frost. “You really know nothing.”
Deeming it pointless to continue, he addressed the Fifth Squad. “Training’s done for today.”
Without looking back, he returned to his quarters. The other members stood speechless, mouths agape.
“What’s with that guy? If he’s going to talk, he should finish!” Won Semun grumbled, turning to Myo Cheon-woo. “What’s Yu trying to say?”
Myo Cheon-woo smiled calmly. “He’s mocking you.”
“For what?” Won Semun asked.
“For always talking about the leader but knowing nothing about him,” Myo Cheon-woo said, looking at Won Semun’s pained expression. “He came to Hell Island without mastering a single martial art properly.”
Myo Cheon-woo’s eyes deepened, as if recalling those days. “Yet, in just two months, he surpassed prodigies who had trained systematically since childhood.”
As the members’ attention focused, Myo Cheon-woo raised his voice. “Even after making enemies of all those prodigies, he boldly survived and became one of the Ten Demon Warriors. Understand?”
“So… our leader became a Ten Demon Warrior without proper martial training?” Won Semun asked.
Myo Cheon-woo nodded. “Exactly.”
“That’s absurd…” Won Semun began.
But Myo Cheon-woo’s unwavering gaze convinced them his words held no falsehood.
“What kind of person was the leader you knew?” Myo Cheon-woo asked.
The Death Shadow Corps members finally realized.
Who Bu Eunseol truly was.
How he led them, how he survived impossible missions.
“That’s the kind of man Bu Eunseol is,” Myo Cheon-woo said confidently.
Won Semun, who had been silent, spoke weakly. “But it was the Bullet King. Not just anyone—the Bullet King, who froths at the mouth at the sight of demonic figures.”
“Not just the Bullet King—even if he faced the Three Demons, he’d come back alive,” Myo Cheon-woo declared, his voice carrying a trust harder than steel.
At that moment, a spark reignited in the Death Shadow Corps members’ eyes.
They, too, had absolute faith in Bu Eunseol.
They just hadn’t realized it.
That faith wasn’t only in Myo Cheon-woo’s heart but in every member of the Death Shadow Corps.
“Now that I think about it, I’ve skipped training for three days,” Jo Namcheon said, springing up from where he’d been crouched. Clearing his throat, he addressed the Third Squad. “We’ve rested too long. Let’s start now.”
Other members slowly rose, muttering, “Yeah, when’s the last time we rested this much?”
“Let’s surprise the leader when he returns.”
But something was odd.
Won Semun alone remained crouched, unmoving.
“Won Semun, still not up?” Jo Namcheon nudged him with his foot.
“I had a dream a few days ago,” Won Semun said, his expression somber. “About the leader.”
The Death Shadow Corps members’ faces stiffened.
Won Semun had a unique ability: he occasionally dreamed prophetic visions.
Though some initially doubted or mocked him, his dreams consistently proved uncannily accurate.
“A dream about the leader?” Jo Namcheon asked urgently. “What was it?”
Won Semun sniffed and said in a low voice, “The leader was trapped in a massive hall… the walls were collapsing, and boulders like mountains were falling.”
“Boulders? Then what?” Jo Namcheon pressed.
“I woke up startled and don’t know what happened next. But…” Won Semun trailed off.
The rest was obvious.
He meant to say Bu Eunseol was crushed by those boulders.
Rustle, rustle.
Footsteps approached from the gate, and a dozen maids entered.
“What’s this about?” Wi Cheongyeong asked.
One of the maids bowed and said, “The Master of the Purification Hall has ordered that this place be prepared for the Ghost Death Shadow Corps’s warriors starting today.”
“What? The Ghost Death Shadow Corps?” Jo Namcheon’s face hardened.
To give the Death Shadow Corps’s quarters to the Ghost Death Shadow Corps was tantamount to acknowledging the rumor of Bu Eunseol’s death.
“Damn it!” Won Semun slammed the ground, collapsing forward. “Without our leader, the main sect doesn’t even care to keep our division alive!”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. Nothing’s certain yet,” Wi Cheongyeong said.
“I saw it in my dream! The leader struggling in a collapsing hall!” Won Semun buried his face in the ground, sobbing. “It’s pointless. Without the leader, it’s all pointless…”
As Won Semun wept softly, Jo Namcheon’s eyes welled up.
Bu Eunseol, who never wielded authority and was the first to recognize their individuality. Without him, the Death Shadow Corps couldn’t exist.
“Yeah, without the leader, there’s no Death Shadow Corps…” Jo Namcheon muttered, closing his eyes in anguish.
Step, step, step.
A middle-aged man in official robes entered through the gate. “I am Heo Yu, the deputy of the Purification Hall,” he said, clasping his hands respectfully.
Jo Namcheon wiped his tears and cleared his throat. “What’s your business here?”
Heo Yu scanned Jo Namcheon and the Death Shadow Corps members, then announced loudly, “All Death Shadow Corps members are to move to the first-class residence at the north gate, Danmi Pavilion… my apologies, Shadow Pavilion, by order of the Hall Master.”
Won Semun, who had been sobbing with his face buried, shot up, eyes wide. “What’s that? A first-class residence?”
“The order just came down,” Heo Yu said.
“Our leader’s gone, and they’re sending us to a first-class residence?” Won Semun asked.
Heo Yu blinked. “Your leader… you mean the Death Shadow Corps leader?”
“Who else would it be?” Won Semun snapped.
“He entered the sect this morning,” Heo Yu said.
“What? What nonsense is that?” Won Semun demanded.
“It’s not nonsense…” Heo Yu said, puzzled. “He met with the Chief Instructor this morning and had a private meeting with our Hall Master an hour ago.”
“Our leader… is alive?” Won Semun asked.
It was unbelievable.
Tears and snot streaming, Won Semun shouted again, “Our leader is alive!”
Startled, Heo Yu stepped back, eyes wide. “Y-yes.”
“You idiot!” Jo Namcheon, furious, kicked Won Semun’s face. “What? The leader struggling in a collapsing hall?”
Still fuming over being fooled by Won Semun’s nonsense, Jo Namcheon kicked him again. “You thick-headed fortune-teller!”
“It’s true! I really dreamed a vivid dream of the leader!” Won Semun protested, unfazed by the blows, his expression dazed.
‘The leader, our leader is alive!’
Step, step.
A figure passed through the gate into the Death Shadow Corps’s quarters.
Dressed in glossy gray robes, with ornate jeweled shoulder guards resembling the wings of a phoenix, it was Bu Eunseol.
“Leader!” the Death Shadow Corps members cried out, their voices breaking.
Bu Eunseol, rumored to have been killed by the Bullet King, had returned with an even more commanding presence.
“Bu Eunseol, what happened…?” Myo Cheon-woo began, approaching.
“Lea—der!” Won Semun rushed forward, clutching Bu Eunseol’s feet, sobbing. “What happened?”
Bu Eunseol sighed. “There was an incident.”
“What incident?” Won Semun pressed.
“There were circumstances,” Bu Eunseol said.
The Death Shadow Corps members’ eyes darkened.
Bu Eunseol was too taciturn. To brush off a month-long absence with “circumstances”?
“Bu Eunseol, explain properly,” Myo Cheon-woo said, shoulders slumping. “Do you know how much the members worried about you?”
Bu Eunseol reluctantly elaborated. “I was trapped in a certain place. Breaking through its traps took time…”
“Was it a massive hall with falling rocks and weapons?” Won Semun interjected, eyes gleaming.
Bu Eunseol blinked. “How did you know?”
Thud!
Won Semun spun and punched Jo Namcheon in the face. “See? I was right!”
“You lunatic…” Jo Namcheon, nose bleeding, clenched his fist but then shook his head, laughing. “Fine! What does it matter? The leader’s back safe, that’s enough.”
“Trapped? What about the Bullet King?” Myo Cheon-woo asked, puzzled. “The search party tracking you reported signs of a fierce battle with the Bullet King.”
Recalling Bukgung Ryeong’s face, Bu Eunseol shook his head. “We didn’t fight properly. Or rather, we couldn’t.”
A bitter smile lingered on his lips, hinting at complicated circumstances.
But that was all.
Bu Eunseol clamped his mouth shut and strode into the office, as always offering no detailed explanation.
Taciturn to a fault, saying only what was necessary, Bu Eunseol left the members gaping as he walked away.
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