Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

Chapter 412

A colossal city of gold, encased in an impenetrable fortress wall.

At the outer city, the vast perimeter surrounding Beijing, a thunderous explosion of dust erupted in front of the heavily fortified checkpoint.

A circular shockwave tore through the ground, carving deep furrows into the earth and sending ripples of sand outward.

This was the land where the Emperor resided.

A place that, in the past, only the remnants of the Yuan Dynasty, trained in mounted combat, or the Northern War Gods of old had ever dared to approach.

Even the line of travelers stretching before the checkpoint was no ordinary crowd. Each bore a distinguished air, yet at the sudden calamity, thoroughbred horses reared in panic, noble carriages rattled, and Beijing aristocrats found themselves covered head-to-toe in dust—a moment of absolute chaos.

“…Well, at least the city walls and the checkpoint remain intact. That much, at least, is defensible. Somehow… just barely.”

Yong Hui-myeong, descending from midair, muttered to himself.

Beside him, Yeon So-ha, finally released from his grasp, stretched his back and rolled his neck. His face showed lingering disbelief.

“I can already guess what kind of leader you’ll be for the Singeom Squad in the future.”

“Well… At least he’s better than the previous old man. He didn’t maim anyone, after all.”

As Yong Hui-myeong pointed out, it was true.

The spear that Jeong Yeon-shin had returned had landed precisely between the feet of a middle-aged man in golden ceremonial robes.

The ground around him had sunk noticeably, deep cracks spiderwebbing outward from the impact.

Surrounding him, a dozen warriors clad in blue ceremonial robes stood in stunned silence, staring up at Jeong Yeon-shin’s party.

And at the center of them all—

A single blue dragon was embroidered across the chest of the middle-aged man, its form twisting as if alive.

It was an emblem no one in Beijing—no, in all of the Empire—could dare to wear without the Emperor’s explicit decree.

Yong Hui-myeong stroked his chin.

“…Flying Fish Robe (Feiyufu). I recognize it. That makes him a Deputy Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. It seems your spear-throwing skills have improved.”

“Is that what you’re going with?”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked in mild exasperation.

He had only returned fire on instinct, yet now he found himself facing a Deputy Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

This is absurd...

Jeong Yeon-shin had spent the majority of his seventeen years as a landowner’s son.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard was a name that had always carried special weight for him—an elite group of military officers, so honorable that they were known as "the Emperor’s Blade".

And among them, a Deputy Commander was a figure of almost unparalleled status.

Among the warriors of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, he was second only to the Grand Commander himself. He was not someone one could just retaliate against at will.

Both by rank and by the deep-seated reverence Jeong Yeon-shin had held for them since childhood.

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