NABC Book 1: Chapter 19
Book 1: Chapter 19
Book 1: Chapter 19
The two burly men cut through the hustle and bustle of the crowd.
The streets remained noisy and chaotic, but nobody dared to meet their eyes or block their path.
As they walked, they stole swigs of alcohol from those drinking at the neighboring pubs and ate a few skewers from street vendors.
Yet, nobody dared to stop them.
Even the patrolling government soldiers, merely acknowledged their presence.
Taller than the well-nourished soldiers by a head, their stature resembled bulls rather than men. Amid the cold, their upper bodies casually draped in clothes, revealed hundreds of black skull tattoos and various scars.
They belonged to the Black Bone Faction,
And they were martial artists.
Superhumans who were born with the talent to manipulate a mysterious power called internal energy through their qi.
Nobody dared to stand in their way.
* * *
Shortly after, they arrived at the street where the mask workshop was located.
“Ah, that seems to be the place.”
The mask artisan’s workshop was located in a quiet alleyway off the main road. They stood at the entrance of the alley, gazing at the mask artisan’s workshop.
“...I don’t see that mask artisan guy.”
“Same here.”
At the entrance of the mask workshop, a boy dressed in white, nondescript clothes sat. There were sporadic passersby, but the boy silently whittling a piece of wood looked infinitely idle, yet somehow infinitely at ease.
“Did he have an apprentice...?”
“Why not just ask him?”
As they walked down the alley, people who spotted the burly men turned and scattered. The boy, engrossed in his carving, didn’t seem to notice the men approaching.
“Hey.”
“Where did that mask old man go?”
The carving knife halted.
The boy, who was deeply bowed over his work, raised his head.
“......?!”
The men’s eyebrows twitched.
On the boy’s face was a mask with no designs, not even eye holes. The rough finish of the mask, with its white gloss, seemed strangely ominous.
“Hmm.”
It was momentary, but to be startled by a mere mask—this was something that wouldn’t happen to their usual selves.
“Hey, lad. Didn’t you hear the elders asking you a question?”
The man subtly exerted his domineering aura. The kind that would make an ordinary person’s skin crawl, as if they’d met a tiger.
However, the boy with the mask didn’t look scared at all. Instead, he seemed leisurely enough to even smile slightly. The boy’s neat white teeth were revealed.
“Do you know what the face of Guanyiin Bodhisattva looks like?”
Taken aback by the irrelevant question, the men felt displeased. Under normal circumstances, one of them would have swung a punch by now. Their fists, visibly larger than the boy’s ominous skull, could easily crush his skull as easily as stepping on a dry leaf.
However, neither of them did.
No, they couldn’t.
Something felt off.
They were uncomfortable.
“Well, why would I discuss Buddhism with you guys.”
The boy, chuckling, stood up from his seat. Then, before they could even react, he disappeared into the shop.
There was no sound of footsteps.
Only the faint echo of his soft laughter lingered.
When they came to their senses, only wood shavings remained where the boy had been sitting.
“...huh, f*ck.”
Even a foul-mouthed venting failed to bolster their morale, it only dissipated futilely into thin air.
His fingers shattered.
Yet, he couldn’t halt.
“Save me, please! Save...”
In a futile last-ditch effort, he tried to cling to the doorframe, but it shattered under his grip, and he was swallowed up by the side door.
Thud- thud-
In the deserted shop, only the side door that had ingested the two figures swung aimlessly.
Somehow, the sound of masks laughing reverberated ominously.
* * *
Yeon So-Hyeon knew that the Black Bone Faction would send someone if he showed himself in the mask artisan’s workshop. He casually carved pieces and let loose the small fry lurking in the distance, and those small fry brought back genuine big fish.
Whether from the black or white paths, these martial artists were valuable people, naturally holding high positions internally, and the quality of the information they knew was good.
This was also true for these big fish.
However, Yeon So-Hyeon’s face was filled with dissatisfaction.
“No, no. Was it this?”
He squatted on the straw mat, fiddling with his hands. He then pulled back a little, took a careful look, and shook his head.
“It doesn’t seem to be this expression either.......”
He approached again and looked at the two heads. Only the heads were left, the bodies nowhere to be found, and they wore the most agonizing expressions in the world. Their tongues were protruding, their bulging eyes were full of popped blood vessels, with dried blood flowing in rivulets.
The head rolling beside was not much different, except for its similar expression.
“Well....”
Yeon So-Hyeon, who had lost his appetite for no reason, sat down on the dirt floor and picked up the carving he had been diligently carving. It was a statue of the Bodhisattva of Compassion with its face yet to be carved.
“I guess I really don’t know.”
The problem wasn’t with his memory.
He remembered all the numerous taenghwa (Buddhist art paintings), down to the most trivial part.
But......
“Just mimicking the shape is not enough.”
What face does the Buddha, symbolizing endless compassion and mercy, wear?
What face does the Buddha in his heart wear?
The carving knife of Yeon So-Hyeon, who was immersed in thought for a moment, moved like dancing. The miscellaneous tasks he hadn’t touched could be counted faster from the back, and carving was also one of his territories.
His unhindered hand gave shape vividly.
“......It’s done.”
Yeon So-Hyeon turned around and placed the completed carving on the grave mound.
He also left the carving knife there.
It was a joint grave of the mask artisan’s family that Yeon So-Hyeon had made.
The warm noon sun shone on the fresh mound, merely covered with coarse red cloth.
The statue of the Bodhisattva of Compassion made by Yeon So-Hyeon lay on top, shining brightly.
Instead of a merciful expression, the face of the Bodhisattva was hidden by a carved mask.
It was the same shape as the mask Yeon So-Hyeon had received.
Its crooked expression seemed to mock the world, its unbroken eyeholes turned away from the world.
“......Black Bone Faction, and Geumju.”
Yeon So-Hyeon, who had been looking up at the sky for a moment, recited softly.
“Mock, and laugh. Deceive, and humiliate. That will be your only form of resistance.......”
And perhaps by now,
The unnecessarily diligent ‘gatekeeper’ would be desperately searching for him, ready to turn over every stone in Luoyang.
Keke, with a burst of laughter, Yeon So-Hyeon’s figure disappeared from the graveside.
The chilling winter wind swept across the two skulls rolling aimlessly on the cloth-covered ground.
Our MC is being a savage as always.