Chapter 4: An Opportunity (3)

Mok Gyeong-un lay dead with a broken neck. The intruder was momentarily stunned, but his shock quickly turned to rage.

"You bastard!" he snarled, lunging at the boy and pinning him against the wall by the throat.

The situation was incomprehensible. Even if Mok Gyeong-un was a third-rate martial artist, he was still far superior to an ordinary civilian. How could a mere death row inmate, no matter how surprising, manage to snap his neck in an instant?

As the intruder grappled with his disbelief, the boy spoke calmly despite the hand crushing his windpipe. "Shouldn't we avoid making a commotion? Even with the sleeping gas, too much noise could be problematic."

The intruder frowned. The boy's neck muscles were unusually developed, allowing him to speak clearly despite the chokehold. It was as if he had trained in external martial arts, yet he lacked any trace of internal energy.

"You mad dog," the intruder growled. "The young master offered you a chance, and this is how you repay him?"

"Perhaps I misunderstood the purpose of a body double," the boy replied coolly. "Isn't it to face danger in place of the real person? While it would have extended my life by a few days, breaking a death row inmate out of prison just to use as a disposable double seems rather telling, don't you think?"

The intruder was taken aback by the boy's astute observation. This was no ordinary prisoner – he had instantly grasped and acted on the precarious nature of his situation.

"One question, if I may," the boy continued. "For a bodyguard, you seem remarkably composed about your master's death. Your lack of emotion suggests you didn't care much for him, did you?"

The intruder was stunned by the boy's perceptiveness. It was true – he held no great affection for the spoiled young master. He was merely shocked and angered by this unexpected turn of events.

"What if we were to... change carriages, so to speak?" the boy suggested. "Wouldn't it be convenient to think of the corpse on the floor as the death row inmate scheduled for execution in two days?"

The intruder's blood ran cold. This damned prisoner was essentially offering to take Mok Gyeong-un's place.

"You killed the young master for this?!" he hissed, tightening his grip.

The boy smiled faintly. "Was there... any other... reason?"

The intruder swallowed hard. This boy's way of thinking was completely alien – dangerously cunning. Perhaps that's why he had ended up on death row in the first place.

For a moment, the intruder considered killing the boy right there, regardless of the consequences. His instincts screamed that getting involved with this prisoner would lead to nothing but trouble.

But as he prepared to crush the boy's windpipe, the prisoner suddenly grabbed his wrist with surprising strength. The intruder tried to break free, but it was like trying to bend an iron bar.

Startled, he tore open the boy's sleeve, revealing densely packed muscles that looked like they had been honed through a decade of external martial arts training. It was no wonder Mok Gyeong-un had fallen to this boy – his physical prowess was beyond that of a typical third-rate martial artist.

As the intruder grappled with this revelation, the boy spoke again. "Is killing me really necessary? With the poison you gave me earlier, I have no choice but to obey you if I want the antidote."

The intruder paused. In the chaos, he had forgotten about the poison pill. It was almost laughable – this prisoner had taken such a desperate gamble despite knowing he was already doomed without the antidote.

"I have no interest in the Yeonmok Sword Hall or being the third young master," the boy continued. "I simply need to live a little longer. With the antidote, you can control me like a puppet."

The intruder hesitated. It was a tempting proposition, but he wasn't a fool. This boy was clearly dangerous and difficult to control. However, his desperation to live might make him compliant, at least for a while.

After a moment of consideration, the intruder made his decision. He would use the boy as a temporary stand-in, just long enough to secure his own position.

"If you show even the slightest sign of disobedience, I'll kill you," he warned. "Defy my orders, and you die. Remember, you have twelve hours before the poison spreads to your vital organs. Without the antidote, you're finished."

"Understood," the boy replied without hesitation.

The intruder released him. "From this moment on, you are Mok Gyeong-un. You will address me as Guard Gam."

"Of course. I assume I should speak informally to you in front of others?"

Guard Gam nodded reluctantly, not relishing the idea of being spoken down to, even as part of the act.

The boy – now Mok Gyeong-un – approached the real Mok Gyeong-un's corpse and began removing its clothes.

Guard Gam watched with distaste. He hadn't ordered this, but the boy's quick thinking was undeniably useful, if unsettling.

As the new Mok Gyeong-un removed his prison shirt, Guard Gam couldn't help but stare at his muscular physique. Despite the bloodstained bandages around his chest and abdomen, the definition of his muscles was clearly visible.

"Those injuries look severe," Guard Gam observed. "Yet you move as if unaffected. What exactly were you doing before you were arrested?"

The boy ignored the question, focusing on changing clothes. Once dressed, he turned to Guard Gam. "May I borrow your dagger?"

"What for?"

Mok Gyeong-un gestured matter-of-factly toward the corpse. "The young master's body is more frail than mine. We should only keep the head and dispose of the rest."

Guard Gam felt a chill run down his spine. The boy's suggestion made practical sense, but his casual attitude toward dismemberment was deeply unsettling.

The sooner he could rid himself of this dangerous imposter, the better.