At sunrise, the fever that had been devouring Bai An's body finally subsided. His breathing slowed, and his eyes opened slowly. He looked pale, fragile… but conscious. And alive.
Jang Hun sat beside him, watching in sharp silence, then handed him a small piece of bread. The child smiled weakly and took it as if it were a priceless treasure. Bai Su was asleep, his head resting on his brother's chest, as though the night hadn't truly ended yet.
Jang Hun said nothing. There was no need for words. The children were still breathing— that was enough.
**
Throughout the day, he worked as usual. Nothing had changed in the market… but inside him, something stirred. Something without a name.
But the night… was different.
He lay down in the alley, as always, beside Bai An and Bai Su, and closed his eyes. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, and his body ached like that of an old man who had fought a thousand battles.
But sleep betrayed him.
He woke up suddenly— to pain so sharp it nearly tore him apart.
It wasn't his skin, but everything beneath it. As if something was slowly crushing his bones… then reshaping them. From within. From the marrow.
He writhed in silence, contorting and trembling as he stifled his screams. He didn't want to wake the children. He didn't want anyone to see. He wanted only to survive.
The pain lasted a full hour… then vanished, as suddenly as it had come.
Exhaustion pulled him into sleep.
**
At dawn, everything was… different.
Sounds were sharper. The market's clangor, the shouting of vendors, the rhythm of footsteps… it all rang like a familiar melody.
Movements were slower, more precise. Time itself seemed to move differently around him.
He stood, and noticed that the robe that used to drape loosely around his legs… no longer did.
He looked at his arms beneath the fabric— the muscles weren't large, but they were more defined, sharper, as if his body had been honed by an invisible blade. A clear transformation— not massive, but undeniable.
Even the wound on his hand had healed.
A strange pull stirred in his chest. He closed his eyes and extended his awareness inward.
There, within his core, he found it.
The first pulse, the familiar one, had branched out. But it wasn't alone this time.
A second pulse… silent, but brimming with life. Different.
He whispered to himself, "Was it you…?"
He wasn't expecting an answer. But the voice— the one that hadn't spoken since he entered the city— returned:
"You have reached the Second Gate. From now on, your core will feed on the negative emotions around you. The path to the Third Gate begins now."
Jang Hun asked hesitantly, "What does that mean?"
"The stronger the emotions around you— pain, anger, hatred, sorrow— the stronger your core becomes. But a pulse alone doesn't grow fangs."
"I've granted your body strength… but fangs without skill don't kill. Learn an offensive technique. That's where your true power begins."
**
After the conversation, Jang Hun went out to work as usual, but his mind was elsewhere.
"An offensive skill…?" he muttered. "My powers— Dread of the Void and Chase of the Phantom— creep into the minds of others… One terrifies, the other deceives… but they have no shape. No blade."
He paused for a moment, then whispered, "A sword… I need to learn sword techniques. But where would I even get one? I don't have one."
His eyes drifted toward one of the Bai Xuan guards standing at the edge of the market.
"…or maybe, I'll steal one."
**
In a distant corner of the market, Li Mu sat in his usual spot, watching in silence.
He noticed the change. He didn't need proof.
The body, the stance, the footsteps… even the hunger that used to cling to the boy's face like a second shadow… had vanished.
He murmured to himself, eyebrows furrowed with cautious surprise:
"What happened to him in a single night?"
**
What Li Mu didn't know was that the wolf watching him… had begun to open its eyes.
And what Jang Hun didn't know… was that what happened that night— was only the first step on a path with no return.