575.
Five Ships Annihilated
The instant Park Seong-jin landed on the deck, the ship lurched violently.
Sailors rushed toward the center—not by thought, but by habit.
In that brief moment, Park Seong-jin's vision swept the vessel.
Samurai and deckhands.
Captain and ringleaders.
Upper deck and lower deck.
Helmsman.
The flow of shouted commands.
Countless motions of death rushing toward him.
He did not draw his blade.
He inhaled sharply.
Both feet pressed into the deck.
Thoom—!
More than a dozen Wa soldiers charging him lifted into the air at once.
Waists. Ribs. Arm bones.
They shattered from the inside first.
Crunch— crack—
Broken bones and blood scattered through the air.
One man slammed into a deck pillar, his neck snapping on impact.
No blade had been used, yet half the deck was empty.
Only then did the rest surge in.
Two samurai swung their katanas together.
Park Seong-jin raised a hand.
His wrist bent at the slightest angle.
Shrrrk—!
Two torsos slid apart in opposite directions.
Only then did the screams erupt.
"Aaaa—!"
Park Seong-jin's feet moved.
Where he passed, blood remained like a road.
Yet he did not run.
He walked.
From the left edge of the deck to the right—once.
The standing men's abdomens opened downward.
Intestines spilled out.
Blood poured over the side into the sea.
The ship fell silent.
Park Seong-jin said quietly,
"Going down."
He leapt at once to the next vessel.
All that remained behind were trailing organs and trembling fingers.
The Fourth Ship
The fourth ship was ready.
Dozens of lanterns flared to life.
Archers filled both levels of the deck.
"Fire!"
"Fire—!!"
The sky blackened with arrows.
The moment Park Seong-jin jumped, the arrows lost their purpose.
He was not struck.
Before they could touch him, the space was already empty.
Thwick— thwick— thwick—
Arrows slammed into the hull, the sails, the railings—
and into one another's backs.
Shouts turned into screams.
Park Seong-jin stepped down onto the shadow of a pillar and landed.
He drew his blade only a finger's width.
Shiiing—
That single sound—
and the front line clutched their throats and collapsed.
Blood burst upward from their necks.
"He didn't even—"
"Draw—"
Breath choked off among those behind.
The fourth ship's commander was a heavily armored samurai, encased in metal.
Soldiers clustered around him in layers.
Park Seong-jin moved.
The deck planks sprang up as if about to tear loose.
As the armored samurai raised his shield—
The shield and arm vanished together.
Tap.
The samurai had not yet realized it.
The sensation of blood followed a heartbeat later.
Park Seong-jin's blade pierced beneath his jaw.
Thud—!
The blade burst out through the back of his skull.
The samurai's body collapsed inward.
In that instant, the ship's resistance went out.
Park Seong-jin swung his blade in a wide circle.
A thin, wind-like edge swept across the deck.
Waists folded at once.
Blood erupted.
Severed torsos rolled across the boards.
The screams were pressed down by the sound of waves and sank into the sea.
The deck grew still.
Park Seong-jin said, almost like a sigh,
"…Next."
The Fifth Ship—and the Scatter
When the fifth ship was broken, the distant vessels finally understood.
They grasped why the ships he left behind had gone silent.
A butcher.
The explanation ended there.
The ships began to scatter.
There was no formation.
Only desperate attempts to flee.
Oars churned.
Sails were hauled up.
Rudders were wrenched aside.
Ships collided, curses flying.
Screams and commands tangled together.
"Row!"
"Hurry!"
"Faster!"
Blood ran like a stream.
There was a speed at which a ship emptied.
A speed at which people vanished.
A speed at which the sea turned red.
After five ships were broken, few vessels remained nearby.
Some beached themselves where the coast was visible, scrambling onto land.
Others rowed east like madmen.
Park Seong-jin stood at the prow of the fifth ship and let out a long breath.
"Hoo…"
At that moment, Song I-jeong climbed up.
"Commander."
"…Mm. You."
"Perhaps it's time to return."
Park Seong-jin tilted his head.
"True."
"I did wonder about the way back."
Song I-jeong pointed downward.
"The boat is waiting."
Below, the boat they had come in floated quietly.
The old boatman swallowed hard, saying nothing.