817 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

A faint scent of decaying corpses drifted through the mine. It was a subtle, lingering smell—so faint that only Qing could notice it. Could it be that an animal carcass had decomposed somewhere? Perhaps they had found a hibernating bear? No, that didn't make sense... This was a mine, not a cave. It was a space humans had carved out, not a place where animals would hibernate. Besides, it remained warm here even in winter. Moreover, even if it was an animal carcass, why leave it to rot away completely? Surely, in a closed underground space with poor ventilation, they wouldn't leave such a vile stench, the most unbearable of odors, unchecked. Unless there had been some kind of accident. Perhaps a tunnel had collapsed, leaving the bodies beyond to decay. Could it be that this was the beginning of that wretched karma of the stopover's misfortune? You know, those all-too-common tales that appear in ghost stories set in mines. Miners buried in collapsed tunnels, and rescue plans that, for some mysterious reason, never materialize. Excavating for rescue might risk the entire tunnel collapsing, or perhaps cold-blooded merchants found recovery cheaper than rescue, or preferred to quietly brush the incident aside... If so, even now, there could be injured individuals buried under the tunnel, helplessly awaiting aid. Qing closed her eyes momentarily and listened. But even to her sharp ears, there was only silence, the sound of her own breathing echoing loudly within her body. Suddenly, it hit her—the world was too silent. Yet Qing suddenly realized the silence had persisted all along. And it's too dark. The starlight of her Qi was ultimately nothing more than a chill blade meant for killing; of course, it couldn't illuminate any malice. Thus, the surroundings were infinitely dark. The world was reduced to faint sketches, mere shadows and highlights. Qing wandered through that oppressive darkness. Chasing only the unpleasant lingering scent that brushed the tip of her nose, toward somewhere deep underground, without direction. How long had she been at it? Finally, Qing came upon a rock face that blocked her path. The end of the tunnel. A shichen? An hour and a half? Or perhaps it had only been a ke or two? In such gloom, where neither sight nor sound of any living being or nature’s noises could be found, time became an unknowable, pitiful ignorance. Of course, if one were to dig a straight path, it would be a tunnel, not a mine. Considering the characteristics of a mine that branches out like an anthill (though not as complex), she'd merely reached the end of one path. Yet the odor arose from here... And then, suddenly— Her toe struck something with a thud. Beneath her feet lay a vulnerable blind spot due to physiological traits, beyond her sight's reach. Yet she had never stumbled over obstacles before, thanks to her Enlightenment Divine Arts' omnidirectional vision and spatial perception, reading the ground beneath her feet. If Qing stumbled into something, it was no unconscious mistake—it meant she intended to touch it. Again, Qing's toe tapped the ground softly. This time, a soft, metallic tapping sound reverberated—she had struck a metal plate unexpectedly embedded in the mine floor. A square metal plate with cloth wedged at each corner. Seemingly sealed so tightly that there was no gap between the plate and the ground. Inside her mask, Qing's expression hardened. A certain kind of premonition, a heart-clenching ominous feeling surged within her. No, it can't be. None of her instincts had been right thus far. She thought she had found a chance for slaughter, but it turned out not to be, from the medicine seller until now. Qing tried to think positively. Ah, could it be a drain? Well, it would be odd to have a drain in the middle of a mine. They wouldn't have sealed a drain so meticulously, though. Surely not an outhouse? Come to think of it, miners would need to relieve their physiological needs, and they couldn't go outside every time. Sshring, her sword was unsheathed. The tip pressed against the cloth wedged between the plate and the ground. In such a suspicious situation, not knowing what cloth it was, in the worst case, it could have been recycled for post-clean-up uses. Thus, touching it by hand was unthinkable. Still, to prod the suspicious bundle with her sword was hardly normal. One might foam at the mouth asking what a so-called swordsman thought of her sword. But Qing had always wielded her weapon pragmatically. After all, a sword is meant to penetrate an enemy’s body; wouldn’t it be more effective the filthier it was? Qing gently tugged at the cloth with her blade. The act of extracting the cloth, wedged beneath the thick plate, using the blade, seemed easy but was akin to an impossible art. Nevertheless, thanks to Cheon Yu-hak's meticulous sword training, which allowed her to handle the blade as her fingers, the cloth unrolled, stretching until it finally snapped free. And at that very moment, a putrid stench surged. Even the normally strong-stomached Qing struggled to swallow the rising nausea. From the look of things, it was not a man-made hole but a natural cave that had been buried underground. It seemed to be about five zhang deep. A rope ladder, left hanging from metal pegs embedded around the perimeter of the hole, showed signs of slight wear, as if vaguely used. Furthermore... The depth appeared to be around five zhang, and the floor was visible below. Illuminated by the light of her Qi, in the inky darkness where only shadows could be faintly discerned with her beyond-human vision, something down there was illuminating the space. Qing knew exactly what kind of light source cast that subtle jade glow below. In the highest-class guest room of the Seolga Trading Company, with a grandiose name something like ‘Supreme(至尊)’, even there a soothing jade-colored night light was installed. The enigmatic mystery of Zhongyuan, with its distinctive phosphorescent jade glow—it was baffling no matter how much Qing looked at it. Qing grabbed onto the rope ladder and descended. The upward airflow from the bottom of the vertical cave was entirely made up of stench, so foul that it was choking, making her head throb. And down at the bottom of the vertical shaft. A wide natural grotto was revealed. And towering piles of human corpses. Qing clung to the rope ladder hanging from the hole in the ceiling, gazing down at the horrifying scene with eyes that gleamed with ominous color. When a person dies and is buried in the ground, as nature's law dictates, they naturally decompose, turning into nutrients for insects and plants, disappearing over time. But when a person dies without coming into contact with nature, that's when the horrifying reality unfolds. Especially in a cave where one couldn't find a handful of dirt, let alone common insects within solid rock found during mining—even more so in such an environment. There were multiple hills composed of these corpses. One pile had nearly become a skeleton, with flesh and innards dissolved into a thick, black ooze pooled on the floor, indicating a significant passage of time. Another pile had grotesquely swollen, forming a massive mound of fused flesh, looking comparatively more recent and intact, as corpses in the initial stages of decay. Like a kind of morgue. Every time the family of a diehard patient arrived en masse, they were slaughtered all at once, the towers of bodies stacked up high. Qing recalled the face of the miner who had smiled amiably, saying that being a miner was not so bad. Foolish, with no guarantee that just because they were in a mine, it meant they were miners. They must have been in on it from the start. Hundreds, perhaps even over a thousand corpses piled deep in the mine; it's inconceivable that the miners wouldn't know about that. If they killed them outside, they must have transported the bodies and dumped them into the subterranean depths. Even if they tricked them into entering and pushed them into the hole, how could they not notice that hundreds of people who went in never returned? Just why... Why would anyone do such a thing? Qing’s eyes quivered slightly. It could be for some ritual, or a mystic purpose. Like the lairs of the Blood Cult monks of the Qinghai region in the past. Or else, or else, or for heavens know what other reason. Unless it’s someone like the Single Wheel True Person, an expert in mystic arts, Qing’s knowledge couldn’t even begin to fathom why these people had to quietly rot away in a hidden part of the deep earth. Therefore, she didn’t bother to dig through the piles of bodies or try to examine them crudely. Instead, she quietly climbed back up the rope ladder. After all, when you don’t know, you just have to ask. Ask the one who knows the truth, ask the very perpetrator who committed this atrocity. And the responsibility for this sin must be addressed. The reason the group insisted on accompanying Qing all the way to the mine entrance at the foot of the hill was closer to surveillance than support. They feared she might cause trouble and then quietly vanish on her own again. Everyone understood the reasoning behind her actions. Qing didn’t want to involve her friends in any danger, which was her way of showing consideration and affection. The problem was, such unilateral consideration was extremely frustrating and infuriating. Oh mighty master of the Harmony Realm, moving alone is more convenient, and worrying about you guys is an inconvenience, a hindrance to her great mastery. If Qing heard this, she’d feel guilty and indignant. Why—am I wrong? Honestly, if any of you had reached my realm, I could have trusted you with my back at ease. And do you have any idea how perilous the martial world is? Now people from the Profound Realm come out threatening to kill with sabers—what if I meet someone who I can barely handle myself and can't keep you safe, and you get severely hurt? On that day, Zhongyuan would see the advent of Kim Satgat, or rather, Seo Mun Satgat, appearing a remorseful vagabond, ashamed to ever lift her head again. So, could the group not follow Qing? Qing, despite always meddling akin to the vast sea of Beiming when others were in a bind, would say: "Please let me handle my own risks alone." Therefore, when Qing raised suspicions about the Jeongga clan, they thought it sounded plausible but treated it as nothing more than that. In this vast Zhongyuan, scam artists were aplenty; even if something was suspicious, there were countless nefarious deeds people could be abducted and trafficked for. The mine could have been an excuse for human trafficking, selling people away, or for illegal activities forbidden by national law, like drug cultivation or salt smuggling. That's how they thought. But upon her return from infiltration, Qing's eyes looked unusual. Moreover, the terrible corpse stench clung to her clothes. Unlike her home, in Zhongyuan, encountering the smell of corpses wasn’t such a rare experience. While finding a human corpse cast off by the side of the road wasn’t common, it wasn’t unheard of in this era. Even so, the stench emanates from animal carcasses too, and because Zhongyuan’s back mountains are wild lands where larger animals roam. Yet a much more chilling and gruesome story emerged than anticipated. The corpses were piled like mountains. Concealed deep in the mine, they were categorized into separate mounds. “It would be best to inform the Alliance immediately. Committing such atrocities secretly and having the night pearls embedded in the underground structure, if a group capable of pulling off such construction and with the financing necessary were involved...” Zhuge Leehyun left his sentence unfinished, but most understood the omitted part. Blood Cult. Who else but the Blood Cult would commit such heinous acts? --- It was at that moment. Tang Nanah, who seemed to be lost in thought, suddenly directed a question at Qing. “By any chance, Qing, what was the environment of that grotto like—was it humid, damp?” “Well, it is a cave, so...” “Then, those bodies, you said they were piled up, right? Were they perhaps placed in a hollow or surrounded by bricks or something to keep the corpse fluid from leaking out?” Corpse Water(屍水) refers to the liquid that seeps out as corpses decompose. Qing furrowed her brow slightly. Though there hadn't been any bricks surrounding them, she recalled that beneath the piles of bodies, there was indeed a significant amount of decaying liquid pooled up. She had assumed it was only natural due to the corpse's decomposition. Tang Nanah wore a grave expression. “That seems like they're trying to manufacture corpse poison.”