RDM (Novel) Chapter 584

Chapter 584

In the Red Turban Association, there was a register that recorded the ships that entered the Sea Gate City.

Every ship entering Sea Gate city was recorded without exception. As they dispatched workers to the ships, they naturally began to record them.

After a long period of recording, there were so many registers that the Red Turban Association had to build a warehouse to store them.

Soma and Taemu Sang spent the entire night in the warehouse where the registers were stored.

Sitting on a chair on one side of the warehouse, they stayed up all night reviewing the entry records.



Soma sighed as he folded the last register.

His eyes ached from reading the registers all night.

It was the same for Taemu Sang.

Both eyes were red and bloodshot, tears streaming down his cheeks.

But the pain was not worth the gain.

The ships recorded in the registry had entered Sea Gate City through legitimate routes. There was nothing suspicious about their course or behavior.

Taemu Sang said to Soma,

“Let’s go. There is nothing more to gain here.”


Soma nodded and rose from his seat.

The two of them walked out of the warehouse, shoulder to shoulder.

At that moment, a middle-aged man approached them.

It was Yu Il-seok, the chief of the Red Turban Association.

He asked Taemu Sang,

“Did you find anything?”

“We found nothing.”

Taemu Sang shook his head.

Since submitting to Tarha, Yu Il-seok had been utterly loyal.

Although he was originally very ambitious, he realized, after fighting Tarha, how many powerful people there were in the world. Among them, there were those he didn't even dare to face.

Tarha was one such being.

He was an unparalleled warrior, someone Yu Il-seok could not even dream of facing.

If he couldn't compete with such a strong person, going under is the only way to stay on top

That's why Yu Il-seok had become a subordinate of Tarha, and even now, he was loyal to him.

Taemu Sang said to Yu Il-seok,

“We will return for now. If you notice anything strange, please contact us.”

“Don’t worry. Nothing that happens on the pier can escape the eyes of our Red Turban Association."

“I trust you.”

Taemu Sang bowed to Yu Il-seok and then walked out.

Taemu Sang and Soma walked shoulder to shoulder to the street where the guesthouse was.

No matter how skilled they were in martial arts, with endurance far exceeding that of ordinary people, they were still human.

Staying up all night had worn them out.

They walked, constantly rubbing their eyes.

Then, some people brushed past them.

They appeared to be sailors, and as they passed, a foul odor drifted by.

Taemu Sang thought nothing of it as he was used to it, but Soma found the stench unfamiliar and inadvertently scowled.

Soma looked back.

The sailors moved away in the direction he and Taemu Sang had come from. But for some reason, Soma couldn't take his eyes off them.

"What is it?"

Taemu Sang asked when he noticed Soma's gaze on the sailors.

“It's nothing.”

“Let’s hurry. Geom Yeong must be waiting.”


Soma nodded and followed Taemu Sang.


“Those young ones are quite something.”

A bearded sailor suddenly looked back.

The backs of the two boys they had just passed were visible as they disappeared into the crowd on the street.

"Shall we deal with them?"

A shrewd-looking sailor beside him whispered.

The bearded sailor shook his head.

"No, we have more important things to do."


“Everyone, be on alert.”


The other sailors quietly responded to the bearded sailor’s words.

Suddenly, the bearded man glanced sideways.

In the direction of his gaze, another group of sailors was moving. They seemed to have nothing to do with the shaggy-bearded man's group, not even glancing at him as they walked. But they were heading in the same direction.

It wasn’t just one or two such groups on the street.

Many groups were moving, like a swarm of ants returning to the anthill, but no one on the street noticed.

The group finally arrived at their destination: the Red Turban Association, led by the bushy-bearded sailor.

The group of bearded sailors paused for a moment and looked at the Red Turban Association.

Its main gate stood wide open.

Although there were guards at the gate, the overall defense was extremely lax.

Even the guards at the gate were too distracted to notice the group of sailors right in front of them.


At that moment, other groups of sailors began to gather around the Association.

It was only after dozens of groups surrounded the place that the guards realized something was wrong.

"What, what?"

"What the fuck is this?"

“Damn it! What are these things?”

At that moment, the bushy-bearded sailor pulled out a hatchet from his waistband.

It was a sailor's axe.

It was used for cutting tangled ropes or chopping fish.

It was an essential item, something that every sailor carried.

The bushy bearded sailor shouted.

“Let’s go!”

He grabbed his hatchet and ran with all his might toward the Red Turban Association.


The sailors followed behind him.


“Ugh! Get out of the way!”

The martial artists guarding the main gate of the Red Turban Association fled in terror.

Thanks to this, the sailors were able to enter without any hindrance.

The number of sailors who entered the Red Turban Association was over two hundred.

Until so many sailors had gathered, almost no one had noticed.



The hand axe held by a sailor was sliced into the head of a martial artist of the Red Turban Association.

Screams and blood splattered all around.

“Why are the sailors?”

"Fuck! Are these bastards insane?"

The sight caused the fighters of the Red Turban Association to charge in, swords swinging.

The relationship between the sailors and the Red Turban Association had never been good.

The sailors considered the workers of the Red Turban Association as parasites,

They thought that they easily made money by simply unloading cargo, without having to go out to the distant seas as them.

Because of this, the Red Turban Association had many conflicts with the sailors in the early days, and many of them were injured.

But over the years, they've come to recognize each other, and now they rarely clash, which is why they're puzzled by the sudden attack.

"Kill them all!"

"You fuckers."

The martial artists of the Red Turban Association were confident that they could easily suppress the sailors.

Even though the sailors were strong, they were no match for the skilled martial artists of the Red Turban Association. But their thoughts were wrong.




The martial artists of the Red Turban Association screamed as the sailors' axes wounded them.

Like branches in the face of a storm, they fell to the ground.

Only then did the martial artists realize that the invaders were not ordinary sailors.

“They are trained in martial arts.”

“Everyone, be careful!”

The sailors' brutal axe swings were merciless.

They slaughtered the martial artists of the Red Turban Association, who were armed with swords, with small axes.

It was not something ordinary sailors could do.



A young martial artist from the Red Turban Association had his neck cut off by the bushy-bearded sailor.

Even as he watched the young martial artist fall, the sailor's expression did not change.

His real name was Jo Pyeongrak.

Jo Pyeongrak was not an ordinary sailor.

He belonged to the Ghost Fleet.

Specifically, he was the captain of the leading ship.

He had the grave responsibility of piloting the ship that the owner of the Ghost Fleet, Go Il-won, rode.

It was a task that required Go Il-won's utmost trust.

The sailors who followed him were all martial artists from the Ghost Fleet.



The martial artists of the Ghost Fleet were ruthless.

They massacred the martial artists of the Red Turban Association with nothing but hand axes.

They chopped people up as if they were fileting fish, instilling fear in the martial artists of the Red Turban Association.


“Where did these people come from?”

Suddenly invading the Red Turban Association and massacring them, these killers dressed as sailors were beyond ordinary boatmen.

"What's going on?"

Just then, a middle-aged man pushed his way through the crowd from the back.

It was Yu Il-seok, the leader of the Red Turban Association.

Yu Il-seok stared at the Ghost Fleet martial artists with his eyes wide open. But the martial artists of the Ghost Fleet did not even look at Yu Il-seok.

“You bastards... What is this? You all!”

Yu Il-seok yelled and attacked a nearby Ghost Fleet martial artist.


However, his attack did not take the life of the martial artist. Jo Pyeongrak stepped in and deflected his sword.


Yu Il-seok grimaced as he grabbed his wrist.

His wrist hurt like it was going to break.

The rebound force in his hand was enormous.

The power of Jo Pyeongrak's blow was enormous.

He twirled the hatchet in his hand and asked.

“You are Yu Il-seok, the leader of the Red Turban Association, right?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

“Isn’t it about time you figured it out?”

At Jo Pyeongrak's words, Yu Il-seok furrowed his brow for a moment.

Suddenly, he remembered that Taemu Sang and Soma had traveled together. Naturally, he thought of the Ghost Fleet.

"Could it be the Ghost Fleet?"

“Seems your head isn't just for decoration.”

"Why has the Ghost Fleet attacked the Red Turban Association? We surely have no feud.”

“A feud isn't the only reason to fight. My lord wants to eradicate the Red Turban Association from Sea Gate City."

"The Lord of the Ghost Fleet?"

"Yes. He does not want the Sea Dragon Hall and the Red Turban Association to exist on this land."

Yu Il-seok's face crumpled at Jo Pyeongrak's words.

He had no idea the Ghost Fleet would attack in broad daylight.

The Ghost Fleet had never made such a public appearance before, making it all the more unexpected.

'I can't believe the Ghost Fleet was really in Sea Gate City.'

The fact that no one noticed them in Sea Gate City was even more frightening. It meant that they had blended in seamlessly with others.



Even at that moment, the Red Turban Association martial artists were being slaughtered.

The martial artists resisted with their swords, but they could not withstand the small hand-axes swung by the Ghost Fleet martial artists.

"These bastards! Can't they be stopped?"

Unable to contain his anger, Yu Il-seok attacked Jo Pyeongrak.


A blue sword aura flickered on his blade.

But Jo Pyeongrak did not show any sign of fear.


He threw the hatchet with full force.


Yu Il-seok's sword clashed with the hand-axe, and a metallic sound rang out.

Jo Pyeongrak did not miss Yu Il-seok's body reeling from the shock.


Suddenly, a curved blade was in his hand.

Jo Pyeongrak, who had quickly closed in on Yu Il-seok, slashed at his throat.


With a chilling cutting sound, blood spurted into the air.

Yu Il-seok's throat was sliced by the blade.

It was an unbelievably swift attack.

"Kruk! You, you..."

Yu Il-seok staggered, foam at his mouth.

Jo Pyeongrak looked at him with an icy gaze.

"You survived this long with just that level of skill."

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