Chapter 335

Like Sichuan Province in the real world, Sichuan in this world boasted a vast territory.

Shanxi, Henan, and Shaanxi. You had to combine all three provinces for their total area to rival Sichuan’s. That was how enormous it was.

The continent really is something.

With land this vast, it wasn’t all that strange for three tigers to coexist in a single province.

The Emei Sect and Qingcheng Sect, both counted among the Nine Sects and One Gang. And…

Finally, the Sichuan Tang Clan. Or the Tang Family.

One of the three tigers crouching in Sichuan, it was also the closest to Chengdu, making it the perfect first destination.

If we can get the cooperation of all three factions and bring the Beggars’ Sect into the picture, things should go much more smoothly.

As I was thinking this, Gung Gibang, who had been following one step behind me, pointed ahead.

“We’re almost there. The Sichuan Tang Clan.”

He was right. A wide basin stretched out before us. Rising high above it was a stone wall.

We were still too far away to judge its exact height, but it looked like it easily exceeded ten meters.

“What the hell? Why did they build a fortress?”

“They learned from history.”

“History?”

“They suffered terribly during the Great Faction War. When the Demonic Cult occupied Sichuan, many members of the Tang Family were killed, and even Tang Family Hill, the clan’s main base, was burned down.”

“Their home base got completely wrecked.”

“Not entirely. As they retreated, they released all kinds of deadly poisons, so the Demonic Cult bastards who charged in without knowing what they were doing died in droves, too. Do you know what the Sichuan Tang Clan’s motto is?”

“Uh… ‘The North Remembers’?”

“……What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know nothing, Gung Snow.”

Gung Gibang looked at me as though he were staring at a madman before opening his mouth.

“Repay kindness twofold. Repay grudges ten thousandfold.”

“Damn, that’s intense.”

“It was. The demonic, heterodox bastards who sided with the Demonic Cult during the occupation of Sichuan died while shitting and pissing through all seven apertures.”

“Poisoning?”

“Poisoning, assassination, and even sending out pursuit squads to hunt them down independently. They died in all sorts of ways. A few may have survived through sheer luck, but they probably weren’t really living even if they were alive.”

I could understand why.

The people approaching us from the other side might be assassins sent by the Tang Clan. Maybe one of them had poisoned the teacup. Trapped in a prison created by psychological pressure, their nerves would have been shot for the rest of their lives.

They probably trembled in the corner of a room with a sword in one hand and a silver spoon in the other.

“When it comes to poison and hidden weapons, the Sichuan Tang Clan is number one under heaven. No one can match them in being closed-off and relentless. Did you see anyone from the Sichuan Tang Clan at the Star-Array Grand Banquet?”

Thinking back, I didn’t think I had seen a single one.

Even factions that hadn’t sent their young prodigies to participate in the Star-Array Grand Banquet, such as the Nangong Family, had sent important figures. But I hadn’t heard that anyone from the Sichuan Tang Clan had come.

“I don’t think so.”

“Right? There wasn’t anyone?”

“No. There really wasn’t.”

“That’s the Sichuan Tang Clan.”

They did whatever the fuck they wanted. No backing down.

I could feel it. The more I listened, the more uneasy I became.

What if they turn us down flat?

I had even brought a letter from the Sword Saint Mae Jonghak to request their cooperation, but the uneasiness refused to go away.

I was suppressing those thoughts and using my movement technique when Gung Gibang suddenly spoke.

“We should walk from here.”

“Do we really have to?”

“They probably won’t like it if we suddenly approach at high speed.”

“They might like it.”

Gung Gibang pointed at a massive boulder a few paces ahead.

Written across it in blood-red letters were the following words:

Anyone who approaches without permission will pay a blood debt.

“Let’s walk. I’ve wanted to walk for a while now.”

“……”

“Hey, sometimes you need to look around at the scenery and gaze up at the sky. That’s what living like a normal person is about.”

Gung Gibang, Hyuk Mujin, and I stopped using our movement techniques.

But one person did not.

With a fierce gust of wind, a figure shot straight toward the front gate.

Whoooosh!

“Hellooo!”

“Cheongpung, you crazy bastard!”

“I’m Cheongpung!”

A boy of similar build was riding on his back as Cheongpung shot forward, waving energetically.

Cheongpung spoke to Mungyeong, who was swaying pitifully in every direction.

“Medical apprentice, say hello!”

“H-Hello!”

Please don’t.

Don’t make him do anything weird. And don’t do it just because he tells you to.

I lunged forward to grab Cheongpung by the scruff of his neck, but the Sichuan Tang Clan’s answer came faster.

Whoooosh! Boom!

A massive spear as tall as a grown man hurtled down from atop the stone wall. It buried itself directly in front of Cheongpung’s foot, its shaft quivering.

Then, in the next instant—

“Who are you people?”

Clatter-clatter-clatter!

Along with the shout, which carried powerful internal energy, dozens of crossbows appeared above the stone wall.

Between the countless arrowheads glittering in the sunlight, a middle-aged man with his eyes wide open shouted at us again.

“Outsiders, identify yourselves!”

Cheongpung answered.

“Hello! I’m Cheongpung!”

“I-I am Mungyeong. P-please show mercy and lower your weapons, and I shall repay this grace even if this body dies and dies, then dies a hundred times over, until—”

“Mmph! Mmph!”

Stop it, you trolls!

I hurriedly clamped both hands over Cheongpung and Mungyeong’s mouths before bowing repeatedly toward the stone wall.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. The kids are still immature. My name is Jin Taekyung of the Jin Family of Taiyuan.”

“Jin Taekyung of the Jin Family of Taiyuan?”

The middle-aged man’s eyes widened slightly as he thought.

“Jin Taekyung, the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi—the Disciple of Great Hero Jeok Cheongang, the Fire King?”

“Yes. That’s me.”

I jerked my chin toward Gung Gibang, who had arrived a beat later, and continued.

“This is the Oseong-and-Haneum villain—no, the Beggars’ Sect Successor Beggar, Gung Gibang.”¹

“The Disciple of Great Hero Jeok Cheongang and the Beggars’ Sect’s Successor Beggar…”

His tone and expression remained suspicious, but the middle-aged man’s wariness had eased considerably.

When he crooked a finger, the crossbows aimed at us lowered toward the ground.

“What brings you to our family?”

“I’d like to meet the Family Head.”

“The Family Head?”

“Yes. It’s important.”

The middle-aged man frowned, apparently displeased with my answer, but this was not something we could announce to the neighborhood.

The Sword Saint Mae Jonghak was no fool. There was a reason he had written a handwritten letter and sent it by hand instead of using a messenger pigeon.

“His Excellency the Family Head has many matters to handle right now. Our family is not accepting any outsiders whatsoever, so withdraw and come another time.”

“You only need to deliver a message.”

“Impossible. The person who gave me this order was the Family Head himself. And if it was really that important, you should have contacted us in advance.”

Why is he being so damn firm? I didn’t plan for this.

Gung Gibang seemed to be thinking the same thing. He whispered in a voice as small as an ant.

“Something’s strange. Even for a closed-off place like the Sichuan Tang Clan, this is too much…”

I agreed. Pointing crossbows at us right away and maintaining such intense vigilance from the beginning were things one would expect only in wartime.

What a warm welcome.

Still, we had come to ask for their cooperation. I couldn’t simply complain. If we wanted to meet the Family Head, it seemed we would have to show him at least half our cards, even if we didn’t reveal everything.

Can’t be helped.

After hesitating for a moment, I stared straight at the middle-aged man and opened my mouth.

“I brought a letter from Great Hero Mae Jonghak, the Sword Saint.”

“……!”

“Please let me meet the Family Head.”

The effect was immediate. The Sword Saint Mae Jonghak was an idol to martial artists and a giant among giants who might become the Alliance Leader of the New Murim Alliance.

He was in a completely different league from greenhorns like us, who had only made names for ourselves within the past year or two.

“……Hmm. Wait here a moment.”

The middle-aged man let out a groan and disappeared from the top of the stone wall. He returned a short while later.

And his first words were practically a foregone conclusion.

“The Family Head has granted permission.”

The moment he finished speaking—

Grrrrrrr.

The enormous iron gate slowly opened its jaws with a grinding groan.

Not long after passing through the iron gate, I realized that my earlier suspicion had been correct.

Something happened. There’s no doubt about it.

The people who appeared to be members of the Sichuan Tang Clan were proof enough. Their guarded movements, tense eyes, and overall atmosphere said it all.

The sense of incongruity grew even stronger after we left the Outer Hall and entered the Inner Hall.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Craftsmen hammered away at something without pause. Martial artists dressed in uniforms walked around in pairs, while crates loaded with weapons and hidden weapons were carried from place to place.

Gung Gibang and I exchanged Sound Transmission.

“Hey, am I the only one getting a bad feeling?”

“That’s what I was thinking. It looks like they’re preparing for battle.”

“Could they have discovered some demonic fiend? Maybe one of the men who set fire to the Sichuan Tang Clan during the Great Faction War.”

“I don’t know. For now, we should keep our mouths shut and pretend we don’t know anything.”

I had already been planning to do that. If they had intended to tell us, they would have done so already.

But the real problem was that the Sound Transmission had only reached me.

“Wow! I’ve never seen anything like this before! Are you preparing for a war or something?”

“……!”

“……!”

For a moment, I thought the world had stopped.

The craftsmen and martial artists around us stopped whatever they were doing and silently stared at us.

Hundreds of gazes pierced my entire body like hidden weapons.

What sin did I commit in my past life to get tangled up with a bastard like Cheongpung?

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Is this the Hyperbolic Time Chamber?

By the time my mouth had dried out like the sand around the Sphinx’s front paws, the middle-aged man guiding us spoke to the others.

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you continuing your work?”

Only then did the world begin moving again.

The middle-aged man glanced at the people who had gone back to their tasks before casually tossing a remark at us.

“You all look tight-lipped. I like that.”

It sounded like a compliment on the surface.

But why did it sound like he was telling us to keep our mouths shut if we wanted to live long, healthy lives?

Why? Because that’s exactly what he meant, damn it.

Maybe it was because of the Tang Clan’s association with poison and hidden weapons.

The middle-aged man, along with the other members of the Tang Family, was clearly one level below me in skill, but they all gave off an unmistakably dangerous scent.

“Hold your breath. That’s poison mist. It smells awful.”

“……Oh. Yes.”

So that was the dangerous smell?

I glared at the blue-haired bastard, who was still looking around with a bright expression, and continued walking behind the middle-aged man.

I had no idea how long we walked.

During that time, we passed through five gates and finally stopped in front of the sixth.

“You cannot bring weapons into the Family Head’s Hall.”

Following the middle-aged man’s instructions, we handed over all our weapons. After that, the martial artists guarding the hall searched us as well.

They’re incredibly strict.

At that moment, one of the guards patting me down in search of hidden weapons suddenly flinched and shouted.

“There’s a hidden weapon here!”

“That’s not a hidden weapon. It’s my thing.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s mine. You know… that.”

“……!”

What kind of humiliation play is this?

I would rather pull out a poisoned hidden weapon than take that out in the Family Head’s Hall. It would be a much easier way to die.

After I reluctantly gave him permission to inspect the real thing, the middle-aged man’s eyes widened.

“You’re quite something.”

“……Could you just let me through without saying anything?”

“I understand. But you really are quite something.”

“Oh, please.”

Reading the sincerity mixed into my plea, he was about to order the guards to let us pass when he suddenly frowned.

“I nearly forgot. You there, stay behind.”

Oh, right. He was here.

The “you” the middle-aged man was referring to was Mungyeong.

“I hear you’re a medical apprentice who came to our family to obtain a prescription.”

Dragged along this far before he even knew what was happening, Mungyeong answered in a trembling voice.

“Y-Yes.”

“Under normal circumstances, it would be out of the question… but you were lucky enough to meet the right group. I’ll assign someone to you, so go take care of your business.”

“Th-Thank you.”

Mungyeong bowed deeply before disappearing with one of the martial artists. The middle-aged man took the lead and beckoned to us.

“Let us go inside.”

Twenty steps made of blue stone.

And a single door at the top.

“Uncle, it’s me.”

An elderly voice answered the middle-aged man.

“Come in.”