“You know, most people don’t fake their death and return a day later to the same city.” Jun-Bok said from the front of the wagon.

  “We wouldn’t have to return if either one of you knew where ‘The Valley of Ten Thousand Ghosts’ is.”

  “We don’t know because it is a fairy tale.”

  “As I have read, your master doesn’t share your beliefs.”

  “I still feel like this is a bad idea, Chris.”

  “Don’t worry, Young-Pil. We will be in and out in a jiffy. Thanks to the clan head present, no one should be able to recognize me.”

  Before they changed their path toward the city, Chris took another look inside the chest. There, he discovered the present Baek Cheon-Do had left for him.

  Chris pulled a mask from the wooden chest. It was a simple white mask carved from smooth wood, but one detail stood out: a thin crack running across the left cheek. He touched the scar on his own face and let out a quiet laugh.

  “He has a strange sense of humor.”

  Under it was a bundle of clothes. A set of dark grey traveling robes, plain and sturdy. Beneath them lay a faded cloak and a pair of gloves. From the pocket of his clothes, his ring fell and bounced on the floor

  -I dig your new look, Chris.-

  ‘Welcome back. You have been silent for a long time. What happened?’

  -I needed some time to think about something.-

  ‘You good?’

  -Don’t worry, everything is good.-

  ‘That’s reassuring.’

  But Chris had a feeling that something had happened while he was playing dead. Still, he knew that it was not the time to have this discussion. He would have more time after they left this city.

  The wagon stopped, and Young-Pil spoke.

  “We have arrived. What now?”

  “Let’s go inside and wait for Jun-Bok to find a place for the horses. While we wait, we might as well get something to eat. I’m starving.”

  In front of them stood a three-story building filled with noise and laughter, with a wooden sign swinging above the door. A crane with wide wings had been painted on it, and right under it was carved its name: ‘The Flying Crane’. From the balconies, red lanterns glowed warmly.

  The moment Chris stepped into the Flying Crane, a wave of noise greeted him. Laughter, shouting, and the clatter of cups filled the large hall.

  The first floor was packed with wooden tables, most of them occupied by travelers and martial artists. The smell of roasted meat and strong alcohol hung thick in the air. Waiters hurried between tables carrying trays stacked with dumplings, roasted duck, and bowls of steaming broth.

  Near the center of the hall stood a large wooden crane statue, its wings spread wide with lanterns hanging from the tips.

  Above the busy floor, a balcony wrapped around the second level where quieter guests watched the chaos below.

  They chose one of the last empty tables and sat down, waiting for a waiter to come.

  “We should be careful.”

  “Why? It seems like a cozy place.”

  “This place is known for two things: great food and the trouble it can brew.”

  “Relax, Young-Pil. You are too tense. Look, people are already looking toward us.”

  “I don’t think that I am the problem.”

  He pointed toward Chris’s mask.

  “Silly me. I forgot about it.”

  Chris waved at one of the waiters to take their order.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. What would you like to eat?”

  “It is my first time here. What would you recommend?”

  “The roasted duck is our specialty, and it pairs well with a good decanter of wine. Would you like it served?”

  “We will. My mouth is already watering. What do you say?”

  “Sounds perfect. Make it for three people.”

  “Understood. I will be back as soon as the food is ready.”

  “Wait, before you leave.”

  Chris pretended to rummage through his clothes before taking the silver pin out of his ring and showing it to the waiter.

  “We would like to meet Hwa-Seon.”

  The waiter’s eyes flew directly to the pin on the table, and his demeanor slightly changed. Chris did not notice it quickly, but Young-Pil caught it.

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  “Oh, I am sorry. I was not informed that we would be receiving special guests.”

  The waiter stretched his hand toward the pin, but Young-Pil covered it with his own. For a split second, his face turned furious, but he quickly returned to his friendly attitude.

  “If you don’t mind, please follow me to the third floor. We will have a special feast prepared for you.”

  Chris had already stood up before Young-Pil pulled him by the sleeve.

  “We should wait for our friend. He won’t know where to look for us.”

  “Don’t worry. We will guide him to your table.”

  “See? There is no problem. Let’s go. We can’t be rude to their hospitality.”

  Chris pulled his sleeve free and began following the waiter.

  -Chris, listen to him. Something seems amiss.-

  ‘You two should stop worrying. It is time we had a nice meal.’

  Reluctantly, the guard followed Chris and the waiter to the third floor.

  The third floor was reserved for private meetings. Access to each room was by a sliding door. The waiter led them to the furthest room on the left.

  The room was small but elegant. A polished wooden table rested in the center, surrounded by cushions embroidered with subtle dragon motifs. Screens decorated the walls, their paper panels painted with flying cranes. Lanterns flickered softly, and the faint murmur of voices drifted up from the lower floors.

  “I hope the room is to your standards. Please take a seat. The food will be brought shortly.”

  Chris studied the décor, and during that moment, the waiter slipped outside without making a sound. Even Young-Pil only realized he had left when he heard the door slide shut.

  Chris carefully found the perfect spot to sit and finally relaxed after such a long and tiresome time. He closed his eyes and began humming.

  “Chris, what are you doing?”

  “What? I am relaxing. It has been ages since I could loosen up. I was stuck in a dream for two years, fighting a strange old man. Then I woke up surrounded by strangers. Then, when I thought I could relax, surprise, I died. Now tell me if I don’t deserve to relax.”

  Young-Pil let Chris finish his rumbling before grabbing him and shaking him.

  “We are in danger. This is not the time to relax. Don’t you hear?”

  “Hear what?”

  “There is no murmur coming from below.”

  “And?”

  “What do you mean, ‘and’? Didn’t you notice the waiter acting strange after you showed the pin? And the way he disappeared after bringing us here? Does he still seem like a normal waiter?”

  “I thought he wanted a bigger tip.”

  “Chris, I told you we had to be careful. Now we are sitting ducks, and the hound has gone to call the hunters. We need to get out of here quickly.”

  -Told you.-

  ‘Yeah, yeah, you did. Sorry that I didn’t listen.’

  -Next time, listen to the man who works as a guard.-

  “There is no other way but fighting our way out. Unsheathe your sword.”

  Their plan was cut short when white smoke began to fill the room.

  “Cover your nose and mouth. Don’t inhale the smoke.”

  But the two of them were already affected. They began coughing violently and slowly lost consciousness.

  The first to succumb was Chris. Young-Pil followed shortly after, falling flat on his face.

  Chris woke to the sound of guards snoring. His hands and feet were bound. His vision was blurry, and the torchlight stung his eyes, and shadows danced around him.

  A voice was calling to him, but he could not tell where it came from until a smooth hand clasped his chin and yanked his head upward.

  He could vaguely distinguish a human form, but his vision was still hazy, and his ears rang.

  Two slaps later, the buzzing disappeared.

  “Now, can you hear me? Should I slap you again?”

  From the smooth voice, Chris realized the person in front of him was a woman. She was ready to hit him again.

  “You can stop. I can hear you now.”

  Another slap came.

  “Sorry, you answered too late. Now let’s go over some simple questions. Do you understand? Answer quickly before I hit you again.”

  “I do, I do.”

  He answered quickly, like a middle school student responding to a teacher.

  -Chris, are you fine? You have been out for an hour or so.-

  ‘I’m fine, but my cheeks are stinging. Can you describe her?’

  -Sorry, whatever affects your vision affects me too.-

  “Good. Now let’s resume our talk. How did you get your grubby hands on this pin?”

  Young-Pil was still snoring beside Chris.

  The woman held the pin between two slim fingers right in front of his eyes.

  “Do you even know what this is?”

  “A pin?”

  “This ‘pin’ is the symbol of the next head of the Flying Crane. Color me surprised when I heard a masked man and his attendant had it. What did you do to the rightful owner?”

  “I…”

  Chris was interrupted by the snoring.

  'Look at him enjoying the time of his life while I’m getting interrogated.'

  “I received it.”

  “Received it? What a funny joke. Tell me the truth before I gut you like a fish.”

  A cold, sharp object moved over his clothes.

  “I’m not lying. The girl, Hwa-Seon, gave it to me after we saved her.”

  “Liar. How could you save her when you can’t even save yourself? Lie again, and you will die.”

  She placed the knife under his chin, forcing him to lean back.

  “I’m not the one who saved her. It was our friend Jin-Mu who saved her and her dogs from a pack of wolves. Then we brought her back, and she handed the pin to me.”

  “For a dead guy, you look pretty good.”

  “What? That’s crazy. I don’t remember dying.”

  [Emerging Talent]

  Passive (growth type).

  You show early signs of acting ability, though your skill is far from refined. With repeated performances, your control over expressions, voice, and mannerisms steadily improves.

  'Not funny.'

  -I didn’t do it.-

  'Yeah, sure. It just conveniently appeared at this moment.'

  -I think you have bigger problems right now.-

  'We will talk about this later.'

  “Drop the act, kid. The guy enjoying sleeping over there is named Young-Pil, a guard from the Baek family. The other we captured is Jun-Bok, another guard and a well-known gambler, though he is bad at it. That means you are the now presumed dead Baek Yong-Su.”

  She plucked off the mask

  “Looks like I am right. Now, what should we do with you, I wonder?”

  Then a door flew open, and another person rushed in.

  “That’s enough. You had your fun, mother.”

  “Hwa-Seon, is that you? What is going on?”

  The child hurried toward him, smiling as her nimble hands untied him and gave him something to drink. The drink was slimy and cold. His vision began to return to normal.

  Now the image of the young girl dressed in the finest clothes was the complete opposite of their first meeting. Her mother had already vanished.

  “Looks like our roles have reversed.”

  “Right. Let’s get you two out of here.”

  Two men came and untied Young-Pil, carrying him out while Chris followed the girl.

  “Where are they taking him?”

  “Don’t worry. They are moving him to a cozy room where he can sleep undisturbed.”

  “What happened to Jun-Bok?”

  “He is relaxing while taking a hot bath.”

  “I’m going to give them an earful.”

  “Who are you, people? When you told me to look for you if I needed help, I did not expect all this.”

  “We are a simple gathering of people who operate a few restaurants. How can I help you?”

  “I am looking for a few things.”

  Chris handed her a list.

  “I will have my best man look into it, but it might take some time. Why don’t you and your friends stay here until then?”

  Without hesitation, he answered.

  “With great pleasure.”

  “Please follow him. He will guide you to your chamber. You will find all your belongings there.”

  The one guiding him was the same waiter who had tricked them.

  “No hard feelings. I had to do my job.”

  Chris dismissed him with a wave and waited to be guided. As he looked back, he saw the girl bowing.

  “I’m sorry for my mother’s behavior, but she wanted to test you.”

  From down the hall, Chris shouted.

  “I hope I aced the test.”

  She waved at him and softly said.

  “Silly boy. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be alive.”

  As he entered his room, he jumped onto the bed and did not bother to undress. He found the perfect position and prepared to sleep.

  ‘I wonder how Soa is faring.’

  —Somewhere in the tundra—

  Inside a crack in the side of a mountain, a shadow moved, trying to regain its strength.