Chapter 26

“So…”

Gong Yacheong gave me a strange look.

“So you’re that Young Master Jin Taekyung.”

The moment had finally come. I let go of Hyuk Mujin’s collar—he’d passed out for the third time—and smiled awkwardly.

“Yes. I’m Jin Taekyung.”

The reconnaissance squad members preparing camp pricked up their ears. We were on our way back to the family estate.

We had ridden for more than five hours without a break since leaving the cabin where the fight had taken place. Gong Yacheong had remained silent the entire way. Only now did he finally speak.

If it weren’t for that bastard.

I glared at Hyuk Mujin as one of the quicker-witted squad members dragged him away. I should’ve hit him one more time before letting go.

While I was regretting that missed opportunity, Gong Yacheong continued.

“I’ve heard plenty about you, Young Master.”

“…I see.”

“Even a three-year-old knows who you are. You must be the main family’s biggest celebrity.”

At this point, it would probably be faster to find someone who hadn’t heard of me.

“Lazy by nature and arrogant beyond belief. Addicted to wine and women, without even bothering to learn martial arts… But it seems the rumors of the martial world truly can’t be trusted. The prowess you displayed today was remarkable.”

“…”

If there were such a thing as the Martial World Daily, collecting all the latest rumors from across Murim, I’d subscribe immediately. It seemed surprisingly reliable.

More importantly…

Did Gong Yacheong really not know?

Whatever bullshit the Mount Heng Sword Sect had pulled, I was at the center of this entire mess.

It was an undeniable fact that countless people had died along the way.

It wouldn’t have been strange for Gong Yacheong and Socheon to hold a grudge against me. That was why I had hidden my name.

If he really doesn’t know, that’s a relief.

We were being chased by a ruthless Peak master. I had no interest in stirring up extra trouble.

“How long until we reach the main family?”

Gong Yacheong’s question snapped me back to reality.

“We should arrive in two or three days.”

“Of all times, it had to snow now…”

Gong Yacheong sighed and glared resentfully at the sky, which was still dumping snow on us.

“Young Master, we should prepare for the worst.”

“The worst?”

The blizzard had us stuck, but it had our enemies stuck too. There was even a chance they had given up the chase.

But Gong Yacheong shook his head.

“Don’t underestimate wandering martial artists. Their internal energy may be less refined, and the martial arts they’ve learned may be inferior, but their greatest weapon lies elsewhere.”

I gave him the answer.

“Experience.”

“Exactly. Experience gained through a hundred battles. The ones chasing us aren’t merely martial artists. They’re wandering martial artists. The two may seem alike, but they’re entirely different creatures.”

Alike, yet different. I thought I understood what he meant.

In short, they were well-trained hunting dogs. And the man holding their leash was Jopil, One Question, One Kill.

“What makes Jopil truly frightening isn’t simply that he’s a Peak master. It’s his persistence. His viciousness. He has never once failed a commission or allowed a target to escape.”

I answered with a sigh.

“This time won’t be any different, then.”

“Probably.”

Gong Yacheong stared into the darkness ahead as though something might leap out and swallow us whole.

“That is the sort of man pursuing us.”

Whoosh.

The snow-laden wind vanished into the darkness.

We finished making camp. We had dug several small hollows and covered their entrances with branches, fallen leaves, and whatever else we could find. The shelters were crude, but this was no time to be choosy.

“Have a restful night.”

Gong Yacheong disappeared into one of them, carrying the siblings, who had already fallen fast asleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about the weary smile hanging from the corner of his mouth.

He really is an adult.

If he had wanted to live, he could have run away long ago. Gong Yacheong was a trained master, a seasoned man of the martial world.

But he hadn’t.

He had risked his life fighting for two children who didn’t share a drop of his blood.

That was why Gong Yacheong was a good adult.

Could I do the same?

I shook off the question as soon as it arose. This was a game. It wasn’t wise to think too deeply about an illusion that would soon disappear.

That was right. An illusion that would soon disappear.

Open Quest Window.

Ding.

System

Quest

Logout

You must now make your way through this harsh Murim.

Become stronger. Become famous.

For the day that will come someday…

Grade: Main Quest

Limit: Jin Taekyung

Task: Reach the First Rate realm — Incomplete
         Reach Lv. 30 — 24/30
         Reach Fame 500 — 250/500

Reward: Logout

The EXP and Fame I had gained from dealing with the enemies, plus the Quest reward.

I could finally see the summit of this treacherous mountain.

I opened my Status Window and distributed all my remaining points. Vitality flowed back into my exhausted body.

I’m almost there.

I just had to get past this final hurdle. If I could avoid Jopil, One Question, One Kill—the bastard whose face I didn’t even know—I could finally bring this miserable journey to an end.

But there was another problem.

Let’s say I somehow fill up my Level and Fame. How the hell am I supposed to raise my realm?

Back when I first started clearing the tutorial Quests, distributing my stats had raised my realm from Third Rate to Second Rate. Since then, nothing.

What the hell am I missing?

I was an absurd existence in Murim. I could learn martial arts and raise my stats faster than anyone else. The System had helped me grow stronger in all kinds of ways.

That was why I could literally wipe the floor with ordinary First Rate martial artists despite being a dime-a-dozen Second Rate.

And yet I wasn’t First Rate!

I should’ve asked Jin Wikyung.

At first, I had assumed I just needed to keep raising my stats or internal energy. Lately, though, I had begun to suspect I was barking up the wrong tree.

Level? Stats? Internal energy?

What was it? What final piece did I need to complete the puzzle?

The answer came quickly.

If I don’t know, I have to find out.

Just as I always had. If I kept walking, I would eventually find the exit.

I sat cross-legged and steadied my breathing. The internal energy coiled within my dantian answered my call.

“We lost them.”

Jopil muttered as his black, viper-like eyes swept across the surroundings.

They had lost the fugitives. But traces remained, faint signs that would serve as new guideposts.

“About twenty people. They left this place roughly two shichen ago.”¹

Jopil nodded at his subordinate’s report. The man’s martial arts were only Third Rate, but his tracking skills had reached the Peak. Jopil had countless hunting dogs like him under his command.

Two shichen.¹

The gap had already narrowed to two shichen.¹ How much longer would it take them to catch the fugitives?

Half a day at most.

They should have run with everything they had. Without looking back. They should have cast off every burden, abandoned anyone who fell behind, and run for their lives.

If they had done that, the distance would not have narrowed. But they had let their guard down. They must have thought the blizzard had them trapped.

That misjudgment had brought them to this point.

But I’m a little different.

The previous night had been long. Even among his subordinates, men well accustomed to pursuit, some had fallen behind.

In the mountains during a blizzard, falling behind was no different from death.

The only difference from dying on a battlefield was that it took a little longer.

That was why Jopil had given the order.

Kill them.

They said a tiger left its hide when it died, while a person left their name.

But Jopil thought differently. What kind of name could a Third Rate nobody who’d spent his whole life drifting through back alleys leave behind?

They should at least leave a hide.

Leaving twenty stripped corpses behind, the group had pressed onward. When the long night finally ended, they discovered the fugitives’ trail shortly before dawn.

We’ll meet soon, friend.

The corners of Jopil’s mouth curled upward. This mysterious master was the first person in a long time to pique his interest.

His heart, stiff for so long, began to pound.

I shuddered.

“Ugh. What the hell?”

A sudden chill ran through me. I raised my arm and found it covered in goose bumps.

If this had been a scene in a novel, the protagonist would have muttered that something felt wrong, then continued on his way.

But I was different. I had a solid hunch, and I acted on it.

“Hey. Get over here, quick.”

I couldn’t see him, but I could sense him. The footsteps of someone trudging along behind me faltered.

“W-why?”

“I’m counting to three. One, two… three.”

The moment I reached three, Hyuk Mujin hurried over and stuck to my side.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“What?”

“You were the one. Tell me the truth and I’ll let it slide.”

“What are you talking about? It wasn’t me!”

I silently stared at his face, swollen like a steamed bun.

“You were cursing me behind my back just now, weren’t you?”

“Gasp.”

“You were, weren’t you?”

“I-I was…”

So it really had been this bastard. When I raised my hand, Hyuk Mujin squeezed his eyes shut.

After getting beaten about three times, he had lost all his fighting spirit. On top of that, he had learned a valuable life lesson:

Dodging only meant getting hit more.

“Fine. Since you told the truth, I’ll let it slide this once.”

Hyuk Mujin’s head shot up.

“Really?”

I gave him a warm smile.

“Of course. But don’t even think about deceiving me from now on. I’ll be watching you with mind-reading.”²

Hyuk Mujin stared at me with eyes full of demonic rage, then darted back to his place. If only we’d had more time, I could have smashed his head in with a mace.

Swallowing my regret, I kept walking.

“What’s mind-reading?”²

The chirping voice tickled my ear. It belonged to Soyul, Socheon’s little sister. Had they said she was five?

She was small enough to fit right inside my backpack.

“Is it martial arts?”

“Something like that.”

“Is mind-reading strong?”²

“Very strong.”

“Wow! Soyul wants to learn mind-reading too!”²

“But you have to be one-eyed.”

“Gasp!”

I glanced back and saw Soyul staring at me in shock, her eyes enormous. She was ridiculously cute.

Hayeon used to be like that too.

These days she was a creepy little sister, but when she was little she had been a baby angel. She had even gotten offers to be a child model…

Having her around felt exactly like piggybacking Hayeon at that age.

“Want me to teach you?”

“…Soyul doesn’t like martial arts. I want to become a proper young lady.”

“That’s good too.”

“Mm. Mister, do you like martial arts?”

“Me?”

“My brother says you’re really strong. Dad said only people who work hard can become strong.”

“Your dad said that?”

“Yes. My dad is really strong too. That’s because…”

Soyul chattered excitedly for a long while before sticking out her lower lip.

“Soyul wants to see Dad. But I guess Dad doesn’t want to see us. Oppa³ says he went out to play with Mom, leaving me and Oppa³ behind.”

My heart dropped with a thud.

An old memory filled my vision. In a funeral hall draped in black and white, little Hayeon had searched for our father, and I had been forced to tell her an obvious lie.

Just as Socheon had done for Soyul.

It was the only thing I could say.

“…I see.”

What else could I say?

I looked at Socheon, who was following in the middle of the formation. He was breathing hard, drenched in sweat.

He must be exhausted.

His willpower was far beyond his years. The saying that pain made people mature was fucking bullshit, but it was true.

Socheon had never fallen behind even once, and the other reconnaissance squad members marveled at him for it.

But the real problem is somewhere else.

Gong Yacheong.

His face was deathly pale; he still hadn’t shaken off his injuries. If not for the remarkable effects of the fasting pills I had given him, and the qi he had circulated last night, he might have collapsed long ago.

At this rate, they’ll catch us.

Even after sunrise, the deep snow showed no sign of melting. I was leading the way and breaking a path through it, but everyone was exhausted, and our pace kept slowing.

Worse, we had an injured man and two children with us.

Should I run away on my own?

The thought came to me in an instant.

It was a game. So what?

Gong Yacheong, the young siblings, every member of the reconnaissance squad—they were all artificially created intelligences. Nothing more than NPCs.

But me?

I was alive. I was the only real person among them. The only one who truly existed.

But…

Fuck. It’s such a simple problem… So why am I like this?

An inexplicable aversion surged up. It was strong enough to startle me—strong enough to throw me off.

Why?

I didn’t know.

For hours afterward, I failed to find the answer.

And then night fell.