You might not believe it, but someone who plays the flute well might actually survive. Considering Sword Demon’s personality—his cold eyes, his always-serious demeanor, and his permanently grave atmosphere—saying “the flute sounded good” wasn’t sarcasm. It was praise. As tension filled the air, I scanned Bi-gaek’s group, trying to figure out who was playing. But I couldn’t tell. Maybe it was because Monk Dong-su’s bald head was gleaming. Unusually, I found myself moved by pity and muttered, “Even dragged into a tiger’s den, if you play the flute, you might live.” The clueless bald man turned to me and asked, “Is that a real saying?” “You upset about that?” At that moment, a man stepped out from the rear of Bi-gaek’s group, moving slowly to the side. Everyone’s eyes followed him. After walking about ten paces, he sat down, lifting the sleeves of his long robe and holding his flute. He looked at Sword Demon and asked, “I can perform Guangling’s Intention, Ten-Sided Ambush, Ho Ga-myeong, and Fifteen Army March.” “Play Ten-Sided Ambush, please.” The flute player replied, “It’s best suited for pipa, but I’ll do my best to imitate it.” And with that, the man began playing Ten-Sided Ambush. I had no idea what the piece was, but the title alone meant encirclement from ten sides. As the music began, Sword Demon’s voice cut in over the melody.