For Geum-ju, this was the time of day she cherished most, the sacred ritual that concluded her work. It was, quite simply, her bath.

As she did every evening, she sank deep into the granite tub that had been custom-made for her alone. Today’s bath was especially sweet, for it capped the historic day she had finally acquired the Sword Clan Copper Token. Better still, she had managed to land a satisfying blow against the Crescent Moon Pavilion, a constant thorn in her side. Her happiness should have been complete.

And yet, a nagging unease picked at the corner of her mind.

That swordless fool…

The Grand Young Master of the Sword Clan of Luoyang, Yeon So-hyeon. Meeting him today had been entirely outside her calculations. His unexpected appearance had derailed her plans, allowing her to deliver only half of the stern warning she had intended for the master of the Crescent Moon Pavilion.

If that were the only issue, it would hardly be worth a second thought. As a woman of business, she understood all too well that a plan begins to go awry the very moment it is conceived. What truly bothered her was something else entirely: the intelligence report she had received that very morning from her contacts within the Sword Clan had contained no mention of the Grand Young Master’s plans to leave his estate.

Of course, they had no explicit reason to provide her with the schedule of a man of his station. And yet, the very same people who had passed her the intelligence along with the Bronze Token knew she would be visiting the Crescent Moon Pavilion today. Had they not guided her there themselves? Why, then, would they withhold that crucial piece of information?

She bit at a nail.

Could it be that the Second Young Master’s faction lacked the authority to access the Grand Young Master’s schedule? Unlikely. The possibility was remote at best.

Which left only one other explanation.

“…Originally, no one knew the Grand Young Master’s plan at all?” she murmured aloud.

“Is something the matter, my lady?” her goat-bearded steward asked from his waiting position by the tub, but she did not answer.

Come to think of it, the Grand Young Master she had met today was a world apart from the swordless fool she had heard so much about in the rumors.

—What are you doing? Give that here.

She vividly recalled the way he had held out his hand, his expression utterly nonchalant as he demanded the Bronze Token.

His attitude was strangely, unnervingly confident.

Even with a master bodyguard at his side, how could anyone remain so composed in a room filled with armed men? It felt as though the Grand Young Master was hiding a secret she couldn’t begin to fathom…

No. That’s taking it too far.

Geum-ju shook her head, pulling her thoughts back from the edge of wild speculation. His composure was surely a product of his station. As the Grand Young Master of the Sword Clan, he knew perfectly well that no one on the streets of Luoyang would dare to touch him. Why would he feel fear? As for the rumors, they were always prone to exaggeration. It was only sensible to assume the tales of the swordless fool had been embellished.

Besides, after all the insults I hurled at him, he couldn’t do a single thing. He’s powerless, just like they say.

With her thoughts settled, the weight in her chest lifted.

“…Steward, the water is cold.”

For a moment, the steward’s face stiffened. The maids attending to her around the tub also struggled to mask their expressions. He swallowed a silent curse and called toward the door.

“The young miss says the water is cold!”

The door swung open, and members of Geum-ju’s personal retinue entered, carrying young girls bound hand and foot. None of them looked a day over twelve or thirteen. Their mouths were stuffed with gags, and their wide, innocent eyes were filled with pure terror.

“Mmph! Mmph!”

The men laid the girls down in a line, their upper bodies hanging over the edge of the granite tub. Realizing their fate, the girls began to struggle, but they were roughly pinned down from behind.

“Hmm, their freshness seems a bit lacking, don’t you think?” Geum-ju commented, inspecting the girls with a critical eye.

The steward, hiding his revulsion, bowed his head. “…I will ensure they are selected more carefully in the future, my lady.”

Geum-ju’s hand flashed, a flicker of motion too fast to see. In unison, the girls’ throats were slit open. Her men quickly grabbed them by the hair, pulling them back so their severed heads would not fall into the tub.

“Hmph. I’ve been so worried about the wrinkles I’ve been getting lately…” Geum-ju muttered, stroking her own skin as fresh, hot blood poured into the bath, warming the water around her.

Crazy bitch, the goat-bearded steward thought, his stomach churning. He had seen every kind of depravity imaginable in his long life crawling through the back alleys, but he had never met a soul as fundamentally evil as his own boss. Geum-ju was, without a doubt, the villainess of all villainesses.

“Not at all, my lady! How could that be?” he said aloud, his voice dripping with sycophancy. “Your skin is smoother and more radiant than the finest silk.”

Of course, the words that left his mouth were the opposite of his thoughts. Whether Geum-ju was a villainess or a witch was of no consequence to him. Besides, who was he to judge? Had he not committed enough atrocities of his own to feel a twinge of guilt for cursing her? If he hadn’t, how could he have eaten so well and lived so comfortably in this godforsaken world? It was just old age making him sentimental.

Just then, the door was thrown open and one of the organization’s members stumbled inside.

“Urgent report!”

The steward’s face hardened. “What is it?”

“One of the meat factories has been attacked! It’s been completely destroyed!”

“What?!” Geum-ju shot up from the water, her eyes blazing.

“We don’t have the details, my lady. Some of our suppliers found a few of the kids, barely alive.”

“Who did it?!”

At Geum-ju’s sharp voice, the subordinate flinched. “They were all delirious, my lady, and they… they didn’t last long.”

“But surely they said something?” the steward pressed.

“They… they mumbled about seeing an evil spirit, or a demon… some called it a monster…”

The steward’s eyebrow shot up. “An evil spirit? A demon? A monster?”

“Y-yes, sir. There was also some talk of seeing a white mask, but…”

At the man’s incoherent report, Geum-ju interjected, “A white mask?”

“Yes, my lady. But they all died before we could get a proper story…”

She scowled, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. After a moment of contemplation, she sank back into the bloody water. This wasn’t the time to panic.

“It seems we’ve picked a fight with some master swordsman,” she concluded.

“It does happen,” the steward agreed. “I recall we lost an entire branch last year after provoking the wrong vagrant master.”

The number of people born with the talent to wield Qi was limited. Among them, those who properly learned martial arts and became part of the martial world were fewer still. And among those, the number who could break through the wall to become true masters was infinitesimally small.

“…The thing I’ve learned in this business is that for such rare individuals, we seem to run into them far too often.”

“Yes, my lady. There does seem to be a tendency for that.”

Geum-ju sighed and rested her head against the back of the tub. “Tell the children to lie low for a while. No more trouble. If we stay quiet, this fool will vent his anger on a few more of our operations, tire himself out, and move on.”

“I will have it investigated further at dawn, my lady.”

As the subordinate closed the door behind him, Geum-ju’s temper flared again. “I swear, I don’t know what jobless bastard is pulling this shit now. This is why you can’t raise kids by filling their heads with nonsense about being a ‘righteous warrior’ or some such garbage.”

Sensing her rapidly souring mood, the steward frantically motioned to the maids, who scurried to bring wine and incense.

“Getting all worked up over something that doesn’t even make a profit,” she grumbled. “You have to learn to be flexible in life, to adapt to the way the world works.”

“Yes, yes, my lady speaks the truth,” the steward chimed in, diligently soothing her ego.

It was then that one of Geum-ju’s personal bodyguards, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, muttered to himself.

“A demon, you say…?”

Geum-ju overheard him. “What is it? Have you heard something?”

“Ah, well…”

Seeing the bodyguard hesitate, Geum-ju’s face hardened. “Are you going to stammer like an idiot too?! Spit it out!”

The bodyguard quickly turned to the steward. “Sir, a few days ago, didn’t those freelancers we hired for the gambling den job go missing?”

The steward nodded. “They vanished into thin air. But freelancers disappear all the time, so we let the matter drop, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but…”

As the bodyguard trailed off again, Geum-ju’s patience snapped. “But what?!”

“N-no, it’s just… I’m a regular at that gambling den. And I remembered a rumor I heard…”

“A rumor?”

“Yes, my lady. The rumor is that on the night those men disappeared, many people saw a ghost. Some even said it was a demon.” The bodyguard scratched his chin. “To be honest, I don’t believe in such things, but so many people claimed to have seen it that it’s hard to ignore completely…”

Geum-ju erupted. “What in the hell does that have to do with this?! Are you spouting that superstitious nonsense just because some dying children were delirious?! We are people of business! Try to have a productive conversation for once!”

The embarrassed bodyguard quietly returned to his post.

Don’t tell me…

But despite her angry outburst, a seed of anxiety had taken root in Geum-ju’s heart.

…It couldn’t be that another existence like my Master is out there, could it?

The thought of her own master, the bizarre old man who had taught her an unfathomable and ancient martial art, sent a cold shiver down her spine. He was a truly incomprehensible being.

“T-terrible news!”

The subordinate who had just left burst back into the room.

“Now what?!”

“Another branch has been completely destroyed!”

Geum-ju’s brow furrowed into a deep scowl. “The same person?”

“Y-yes, my lady. They said it was the white mask.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Huuu…” She rubbed her throbbing brow and muttered, “Well… I expected to lose a few more spots before his temper cooled.”

“That may be so, but…”

Geum-ju waved a dismissive hand, sending the subordinate away. “The fact that our branches are being hit this quickly, even with martial world warriors stationed at each one, means this ‘white mask’ is a true master.”

“Indeed, my lady,” the steward agreed.

“In that case, my initial thought was correct. It’s more profitable to just let him be. So what if a few of the children die? They can be easily replaced, can’t they?”

Beneath the increasingly glamorous streets of Luoyang was a burgeoning population of the poor and destitute. The vast majority of children born there were destined for a life of begging in the back alleys. And when those children grew up, they invariably found their way into the embrace of the underworld.

“…Hiring a vagrant master or an expert from the Unorthodox Path would be far too expensive, my lady.”

“Exactly.”

Even as he said the words, the goat-bearded steward’s expression was grim. He knew the ecosystem of this world all too well, and there were times he wondered if this place wasn’t hell itself.

Having settled her mind, Geum-ju waved them all away. “That’s enough. All of you, get out. And prepare a masseuse. I need to relieve some stress.”

“Yes, my lady. At once…”

Just as the steward was about to withdraw, the door was thrown open again.

“It’s a disaster!”

“Don’t tell me, another one…?”

The situation was escalating far more rapidly than any of them had imagined.