Chapter Forty-Eight: The Star of Death Shines for You

With a heavy thud, the severed arm hit the ground. Kim Min-soo’s face instantly drained of color, sweat streaming down his forehead, blurring his vision. His heart pounded like a war drum, inner turmoil making his breath ragged. Surrender—or cling to honor? His mind teetered between the two, unable to decide.

Beside him, Lee Jun-ho let out a furious roar, “Don’t underestimate us!” With those words, he used his only remaining hand to smash Kim Min-soo’s head. With a sickening crack, Kim Min-soo’s skull burst apart, brain matter and bone fragments splattering across the wall, painting it crimson. The barrier he had maintained with his spiritual pressure vanished in an instant. His headless body collapsed, blood gushing from the severed neck, spreading across the floor like a blooming scarlet flower.

Lee Jun-ho knew Kim Min-soo’s character all too well; expecting him to die loyally for their country was utter folly. To prevent any leaks, only death would ensure silence. His eyes grew cold, his spiritual pressure surging around him like a volcano on the verge of eruption—he intended to self-destruct.

In a flash, Bai Yujing appeared, jabbing a finger at Lee Jun-ho’s chest. The touch seemed effortless, yet it contained terrifying force, dispersing the spiritual energy that Lee Jun-ho had gathered. He switched tactics, biting his tongue to kill himself, but Bai Yujing struck again, this time to his abdomen. Instantly, a numbing current spread through Lee Jun-ho’s body, every nerve screaming, every muscle shuddering with torment. His senses became unbearably acute: even the gentlest breath of air felt like razor blades slicing across his lips.

A wretched howl escaped him. Any movement brought the sensation of countless knives cutting his skin. Though there were no visible wounds, the agony made him feel as if his flesh were being stripped away piece by piece.

His vaunted willpower shattered under Bai Yujing’s interrogation. Sobbing, he cried out, “I confess! I confess!”

With a single gesture, Bai Yujing lifted the effect of his technique. Lee Jun-ho collapsed to the floor, blood still pouring from his right arm. Pale and trembling, he gasped out, “It was Supreme Commander Yoon who ordered us to find a powerful half-demon as a sacrifice, for some kind of forbidden ritual to change his fate—to avoid a guilty verdict from the court. Intelligence told us there was such a half-demon in Shanghai, so we came for them.”

“How did you know I possess the Rakshasa Eye?” Zhuying asked.

Lee Jun-ho replied truthfully, “We have an informant in Shanghai, someone we deal with regularly. He told us everything. He said you have the Rakshasa Eye—and that before it’s activated, it can be interrupted with a psychic attack.”

“Where does he live?”

“Yuqing Apartments, unit 303.”

“You may die now.” Bai Yujing jabbed a finger, shattering Lee Jun-ho’s skull. An invisible ripple radiated from his body, locking onto Yuqing Apartments, 303—a silent strike unleashed.

…

With a muffled burst, the air in the apartment swirled, stirring dust across the living room floor. Bai Yujing materialized in the room. On the table sat a cup of coffee, long since gone cold, a brown ring marking the rim. The laptop screen still glowed, its cold fluorescent light glaring in the gloom.

Before the laptop slumped a corpse, body rigid, facial muscles already decomposed, filling the air with a stench of rot. Yet the gold-rimmed glasses perched on the corpse’s nose and his clothes remained neat and clean—a stark contrast to the state of the body.

On the laptop’s document, a single sentence: “If you’ve found this place, Master Bai, then you are indeed formidable.”

“What arrogance,” Bai Yujing muttered, circling the room. He found no traces of lingering spiritual energy. In such a tidy aftermath, even tracking by spiritual threads would be useless. Was this the work of a sword spirit or a demon? Bai Yujing pondered for a moment. Perhaps he would learn more in time. He suspected this was the same person who had erased Zhuying’s transaction records. Though their plot against Zhuying had failed this time, they would surely try again. But with him around, they would fail again and again. It was only a question of how many rounds the mastermind could endure.

In truth, Bai Yujing almost hoped his adversary would last a little longer. At his level of power, trouble was no longer trouble—more like a leisurely game to pass the time. After all, he could afford to miss a few times. His opponent, however, could not afford even a single mistake.

Bai Yujing did not linger. A ripple of invisible force spread from his body, swiftly radiating into the distance.

…

Due to the time difference, night had already fallen in Seoul. The sky was heavy with clouds, starlight barely visible. Only the lights of the Supreme Commander’s residence in Hannam remained bright—a solitary island in the darkness. Inside, Supreme Commander Yoon sat alone in his study, the ticking of the clock the only sound. The gray at his temples seemed all the starker under the harsh light.

He allowed no company. Since leaving the detention center, he had trusted no one, even turning away his closest aides. Not a single one of the guards who had sworn loyalty to him stood up for him when investigators arrived; the betrayal left his heart frozen.

He gazed out the window, his expression tinged with melancholy. He remembered how high-spirited he had once been, placing his fate on the line after hearing the prophecy of a great master.

He had believed he would become another Park Kaka, or at the very least, like Jeon Kaka—infamous, perhaps, but destined to leave a bold mark in history. Never did he imagine that as Supreme Commander, he would have no real control over the military. He had thought that simply holding this position would guarantee the loyalty of his officers, even if military budgets were slashed. But in truth, they had betrayed him without hesitation.

A flash of hatred crossed Commander Yoon’s eyes as he glanced at the photo of his “plastic wife” on the desk, his anger mounting. She hadn’t visited him in detention at all—only feigned concern upon his return to the residence. Were it not for appearances, he would have cut ties long ago. The more he thought, the angrier he became. He flipped the photo facedown, unwilling to look at her ugly face any longer.

He picked up the phone, hesitated, and put it down again, dreading bad news. Whether he could reverse his fate, remain Supreme Commander, even amend the constitution to rule forever—all depended on this forbidden ritual to change destiny. They had to find the proper half-demon sacrifice.

Gazing into the night, Commander Yoon prayed in silence. Tonight, the stars were few, but a strange light flickered on the horizon, as if portending something ominous.

Suddenly, a muffled burst broke the silence—a light, drifting voice whispered at his ear, as if from some distant void: “Look, your star of death is flickering.”

He felt a tap. Startled, he spun around, but saw nothing. “Who’s there?” he shouted.

The guards outside, alarmed by the noise, rushed in. “Commander, are you all right?” one asked, anxiety in his voice.

The next instant, his pupils constricted in terror. Before his eyes, Commander Yoon’s body began to swell like an inflating balloon, skin stretching transparent, blood vessels starkly visible, his form bloating grotesquely.

“What’s happening? No, no!” Commander Yoon’s voice was thick with terror as he tried in vain to resist the transformation. His vision blurred; all he could hear was his own panicked breath and the frantic thudding of his heart.

With a dull explosion, his body finally ruptured, unable to withstand the unnatural pressure. Blood and flesh splattered across the study, staining the walls and floor.

The guard stood frozen, face spattered with blood, his throat choked with horror. At last, he let out a piercing scream: “Something terrible has happened! The Supreme Commander’s been assassinated!”

His cry shattered the stillness like a thunderclap. The residence erupted into chaos—shouts and footsteps echoing through the night.