Chapter 320

The old man had the bearing of an immortal. I had heard he was nearly eighty, yet as befitted a Supreme Peak master with profound internal energy, his clear, refined face bore not a single age spot, and his back was perfectly straight.

And then there were his eyes.

Their dark gleam was enough to make anyone uncomfortable the moment they met his gaze. The old man—the Taeeul Merciless Sword, Hwangbo Eom—spoke.

“An interesting fellow has appeared.”

I met his stare and answered.

“I hear that pretty often.”

“You have plenty of nerve too.”

“That’s also true.”

The corners of Hwangbo Eom’s mouth rose.

“You must know who this old man is. Enough of your pointless wordplay.”

“Who are you?”

“What?”

“We’ve never met before. How am I supposed to know who you are or where you’re from? You have to introduce yourself. That’s basic etiquette.”

Startled gasps came from all around at my nonchalant reply.

“Y-Young Hero Jin.”

Ju Hwaran and the others from the Yongbong Escort Bureau gaped at me, while the Zhongnan Sect disciples, realizing what was happening, reached for their sword hilts as one.

“How dare you behave so insolently!”

“Show some respect at once!”

Hwangbo Eom raised a hand and calmed them.

Normally, this was the point when someone would start foaming at the mouth and check their blood pressure as it shot through the roof.

But Hwangbo Eom was clearly different.

“So that’s how it is.”

He studied me with a faint smile, then slowly turned his head.

His gaze passed over me, Cheongpung, and Hyuk Mujin before settling on the other two.

“You do not know this old man? The pillar of Huashan and the Successor Beggar of the Beggars’ Sect must have told you already. A joke carried too far becomes unpleasant.”

Baek Museong and Gung Gibang flinched, then stepped forward and offered clasped-hands salutes.

“I am Baek Museong, a humble junior of the Murim. I pay my respects to Great Hero Hwangbo.”

“I-I am Gung Gibang of the Beggars’ Sect…”

“Enough.”

Hwangbo Eom waved them off, his robe sleeve fluttering, and turned his gaze back to me.

“I believe I have indulged a child’s tantrum long enough. Is that still not enough for you?”

He really was no ordinary old man.

He was a completely different breed from his Senior Brother, the Roaring Fury Swordsman.

Both his martial arts and his temperament were a cut above.

He’s a tricky one.

Still, this was more or less what I had expected.

Without letting my thoughts show, I shrugged calmly.

“No, that’s enough. Great Hero Hwangbo Eom, the Taeeul Merciless Sword.”

“You’re certainly bold. Why not claim you failed to recognize me?”

“Because it looks better to admit it cleanly.”

“Hahaha! What an insolent brat.”

Hwangbo Eom burst into hearty laughter. He sounded both intrigued by me and utterly dumbfounded.

The Zhongnan Sect disciples under his command, however, seemed to find the situation not merely absurd but insulting.

It would have been one thing if I genuinely had not known who he was.

But I had known and only pretended otherwise.

Hwangbo Eom’s standing within the Zhongnan Sect must have been too high for them to simply laugh it off.

“You bastard!”

Was it called the Taeeul Sword Unit?

It started when a middle-aged man who appeared to be the eldest of the Zhongnan Sect disciples shouted and drew his sword.

Clang-clang-clang!

Thirty well-maintained swords pointed toward me. As disciples of the Zhongnan Sect, one of the Nine Sects and One Gang, every one of them was at least a First Rate master.

Of course…

They’re hopelessly weak.

At this level, they posed no threat to me whatsoever.

First Rate? Peak? It made no difference.

In my eyes, they were nothing more than thirty men with swords.

I am strong.

Might Makes Right.

One of the absolute laws governing the Murim.

Before I knew it, I had become strong enough to remain at ease under that law. That was why I could stride forward without hesitation.

“Since fate brought us together, would you mind if I joined you?”

I addressed Hwangbo Eom, ignoring the thirty blades surrounding me. The middle-aged swordsman leading them flushed red.

“H-How dare you, you insolent bastard!”

“Bangjajeon¹ is so damn good.”

“Taeeul Sword Unit, hear my command! Seize this bastard—”

That was when Hwangbo Eom, who had been silently watching me, finally spoke.

“Join us… Very well.”

“……!”

Everyone stared at him in surprise.

“S-Senior Martial Uncle?”

“Put away your swords.”

“B-But that bastard—”

“Do you intend to defy this old man’s command?”

At his icy voice, the middle-aged swordsman bit his lip and lowered his sword.

As the weapons that had brightly illuminated the inside of the teahouse disappeared, nothing remained to block my way.

“Thank you. All that glare was getting hard on the eyes.”

Scrape. Thump.

I passed the people standing rigid with shock and dropped into the seat beside Ju Hwaran. Seeing how pale she was, I gave her a slight smile.

“Long time no—well, not really. It’s been two days. How have you been?”

“Young Hero Jin…”

“You don’t have to answer. I was only being polite. Honestly, Young Lady Ju, judging by your expression, you don’t look like you’ve been doing very well.”

“That’s not what I meant. How did you even—?”

“I happened to be passing by and stopped in by chance. Cheongpung here insisted on having a cup of tea. Of course, that was also a coincidence.”

Unlike Baek Museong, Gung Gibang, and Hyuk Mujin, Cheongpung—whose duodenum was apparently made entirely of liver²—sat down beside me without hesitation and pouted.

“Benefactor, when are the candied sweets coming?”

“Wait just a little longer. I’ll pile them into a whole mountain for you.”

“Wow! A mountain of sweets!”

Cheongpung looked ecstatic, as though a mountain of candied sweets had appeared right before his eyes.

Ju Hwaran, on the other hand, looked as though a mountain had collapsed on top of her.

Of course, most of that was probably because of Hwangbo Eom sitting across from her.

He looked back and forth between Cheongpung and me with an odd gleam in his eyes, then spoke.

“You have quite the nerve. Almost recklessly so.”

“It used to be small. But after going through one thing and another, it suddenly grew a lot.”

“This and that, you say. I suppose the Shaolin Bloodshed would do that.”

“……!”

“Why so surprised?”

Hwangbo Eom curled his lips into a smile and continued.

“I have heard all about the rumor that the Fire King took a Hidden Dragon under his wing. I also heard that you left the Murim Alliance seven days and nights ago.”

What a slippery old man.

He had known from the start.

Unlike Ju Hwaran, who had merely guessed our identities two days ago, he already knew everything.

How?

This operation had been carried out quickly and in secret, yet he knew everything as if he could see the palm of his hand.

Did the Zhongnan Sect Leader, who should still be at the Murim Alliance, send a messenger pigeon?

Then could he also know about Old Master’s condition…?

Just as the thought crossed my mind, Hwangbo Eom’s gaze flicked toward the pack frame I had entrusted to Baek Museong before sitting down.

Then he casually tossed out a remark.

“Though I never expected the Fire King’s heir to be dressed like a leather merchant.”

Was he pretending not to know, or did he genuinely have no idea?

His expression gave nothing away.

Jeok Cheongang was currently in a state resembling suspended animation. His heartbeat, breathing, and every other bodily function had slowed to the extreme, making his presence extraordinarily difficult to detect.

It was similar to the Turtle Breath Technique Cheongpung had mentioned before.

And with all those hides piled over him, even a Supreme Peak master would have trouble noticing him.

Keeping him warm was not the only reason we had covered him with so many hides.

They concealed his appearance, muffled every sound, and hid his presence so no one would discover he was there.

“……”

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Anyway, I’m thirsty.”

I hurriedly redirected Hwangbo Eom’s attention. Without another word, he picked up the teapot and held a cup out to me.

“Take it.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Pour.

Hwangbo Eom was no pushover.

I felt the profound internal energy carried through the stream of tea and clicked my tongue inwardly.

So this is Zhongnan’s greatest master.

The tea fell in a slow, graceful arc, yet the force within it was heavy and powerful enough to shatter a boulder.

Still, it’s not as strong as Old Master’s.

Jeok Cheongang had a mischievous streak and had played all sorts of tricks on me. What Hwangbo Eom was doing now was no different.

I had broken more than one or two cups this way.

Besides, Jeok Cheongang stood foremost among the Ten Kings, an absolute master sometimes compared even to the Three Saints.

This much is nothing.

When I did not so much as blink, Hwangbo Eom’s eyebrow twitched. At the same time, the internal energy carried by the tea grew even stronger.

“Great Hero Hwangbo.”

“Hm?”

“The tea’s about to overflow.”

“……”

“You can stop pouring now.”

Just as I had said, the cup was already full. I lifted the perfectly smooth cup, not a single hairline crack on its surface, and emptied it in one gulp.

“Ahh. That hit the spot.”

“You seem fond of tea.”

“Not really. Anyway, allow me to pour you a cup this time.”

I reached out, and the teapot glided through the air into my hand.

It was the art martial artists called Seizing an Object Through Empty Space.

I possessed nearly two jiazi’s³ worth of internal energy and insight that had reached the brink of the Peak realm. I did not use the technique often because it consumed so much internal energy, but I could perform it whenever I wished.

I need to put on at least this much of a show.

Old Master had once said in passing:

“There are idiots everywhere in the Murim. You have to show those bastards something flashy before they’ll listen. Look at this old man. All I did was beat the Demonic Cult bastards because they pissed me off, and they still call me a king.”

King Cheongang indeed. Spoken like a man who had turned the Murim upside down by racking up a thousand kills all by himself.

Seizing an Object Through Empty Space isn’t quite on that level, but it’s still an impressive technique.

Sure enough, the onlookers’ eyes widened.

“He used Seizing an Object Through Empty Space so easily…”

“Good heavens.”

Few people could use Seizing an Object Through Empty Space as casually as I had. Especially at my age.

But I did not stop there. I drew up my internal energy.

I circulated the Fire Gate Divine Technique to seven-tenths, and Extreme Yang energy seeped into both my hands.

Fwoosh!

Heat burst forth, and the tea inside the pot began to boil violently. I calmly filled Hwangbo Eom’s cup and said,

“The tea had gone a little cold. Since you’re going to drink it anyway, wouldn’t it be better warm? The weather has been cold lately, and the older you get, the more careful you have to be.”

“……!”

Hwangbo Eom’s face stiffened.

Heating tea with internal energy would not have been particularly difficult for him either. There was a technique called Samadhi True Fire, after all.

But the Fire Gate Divine Technique was renowned as the greatest divine technique under heaven when it came to controlling Scorching Yang Qi.

No matter how powerful a Supreme Peak master Hwangbo Eom was, he could not match the Fire Gate Divine Technique.

And… No. It was too soon to jump to that conclusion.

I cut off the thought before it could go any further and offered him the cup.

“Please, drink.”

“Ahem.”

“Here comes the tea! Chug, chug, chug-chug!”

“……I shall drink it properly.”

“Look at my internal organs! I’ve suffered internal injuries!”

“……”

Hwangbo Eom glared at me, then drained the cup.

When he set it down, his gaze had changed considerably from when he had regarded me as a mere youngster.

“Your martial arts are quite impressive.”

I smiled and waved a hand.

“Oh, no. Not at all.”

“Do you intend to deceive this old man’s eyes?”

“No. I meant my martial arts aren’t merely ‘quite impressive.’ They’re extremely impressive.”

“Your arrogance knows no—”

“Oh, and for the record, my Master said that. The Fire King, Jeok Cheongang. You know him, right?”

Now I was the only one smiling.

Not a trace of amusement remained on Hwangbo Eom’s face.

After a brief silence, he abruptly asked,

“What are you plotting?”

“Pardon?”

“Your insolence reaches the heavens. I have heard enough nonsense about this being a coincidence. Tell me the truth.”

“You’re refreshingly direct. In that case, sure.”

A faint smile touched my lips as I continued.

“I was just passing by when I happened to wonder what kind of dirty trick the Zhongnan Sect was trying to pull, so I came to take a look.”

At those words, the eyes of Hwangbo Eom, the Taeeul Merciless Sword, turned cold.