Chapter 492

It went without saying that so many people had gathered here for reasons other than praying for the Water God Dragon’s soul.

And one person in particular was showing rather obvious ulterior motives.

“Incredible. Simply incredible.”

Zhuge Feng’s eyes shone with rapture as he stroked the silver scales.

“This strength. This beauty. I can hardly believe it.”

The Water God Dragon had died without ever becoming a true dragon, but it was still a divine imugi¹ that had lived for five hundred years.

Its body had already proven itself in battle. It was both armor and a weapon in its own right.

“This is… a priceless treasure.”

Zhuge Feng wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest.

The scales were harder than steel, and even Sword Energy could not cut clean through them. The bones beneath were harder still.

Even in the modern age, with its advanced Magic-powered forging, material like this would sell for whatever price its owner named. In Murim, its value went without saying.

It may not be on the level of Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron, but… it’s an incredible treasure.

The Water God Dragon’s body stretched for more than a hundred zhang,² and every inch of it was made up of treasures like those.

Armor made from those scales would not be pierced even by a crossbow. A weapon made from its bones would be harder and sharper than one made from meteorite iron.

Martial arts manuals, elixirs, and exceptional weapons—the three things every martial artist went crazy for.

It was only natural that greed showed in Zhuge Feng’s eyes, and in several others’.

“If we made a Dog-Beating Staff³ out of that…”

Hyuk Mujin objected to Gung Gibang’s muttering.

“Why make a Dog-Beating Staff³ out of the bones? You’d want a sword. A Bone Sword made from an imugi’s¹ bones… Just imagine it.”

“Are you looking down on the Beggars’ Sect?”

“No. Just you, Gung Gibang.”

“Want me to beat you like a dog?”

“Come on, calm down. There’s enough there to make a hundred Dog-Beating Staffs³ or swords with plenty left over. Why fight about it?”

“Fair point. Then I call one Dog-Beating Staff.³”

“And I’ll reserve a sword…”

Crack! Crack!

“Ugh!”

“Argh!”

Gung Gibang and Hyuk Mujin each took a smack to the back of the head. They turned to me and shouted.

“Why’d you hit me?”

“Please tell us why before you hit us!”

These bastards still didn’t get it.

I frowned and shook a large fist at them threateningly.

“You two useless bastards couldn’t do a damn thing when we were fighting, and now you’re talking about Dog-Beating Staffs?³ Swords? Reservations?”

“Well, that’s…”

“A martial artist can’t help…”

“If it weren’t for the Water God Dragon, Hubei Province would’ve been destroyed. It wouldn’t have ended with a few fish going berserk.”

There was no denying that countless people had died because of the Water God Dragon.

But it hadn’t acted of its own free will. And if the Gate had opened completely, Hubei Province would have become a hellscape.

“Of course its body will be put to good use. But if you’re even remotely human, show some gratitude. Got it?”

The two of them flinched at my shout and muttered in voices as tiny as ants.

“Like you do…”

“Honestly, Captain, you don’t have much room to talk. Look what you did to the Dongting Fisherman.”

Crack! Crack-crack!

Two more cries followed the blows. I rounded on Gung Gibang and Hyuk Mujin as they clutched their heads again.

“Is that the same thing? Is it? Huh?”

I had my side of that story too.

Of course I felt bad about wrecking the Dongting Fisherman, but I’d had no choice.

He’d been directly exposed to the corrupted Water God Dragon’s Fear. He’d harmed people while out of his mind, and every piece of evidence at the time had pointed to him as the culprit.

His limbs might have been broken, but at least he was alive. Come to think of it, getting beaten to a pulp by me had freed him from the Fear.

A fist beat Fear.

A triumph of humanity…

No, not really. We’d each had our circumstances.

I’d even visited him because I felt bad. He was unconscious, though, so we hadn’t been able to talk.

“Anyway, be grateful. Understand?”

I was still shaking my fist at the two of them when another voice spoke.

“Young Friend Jin is right.”

There was wisdom in the voice alone. Perfected Being Hyeongong of Wudang stepped forward, his expression troubled.

“I had my doubts when I heard what happened, but seeing it with my own eyes, I understand now. It truly is a divine creature blessed by the heavens.”

Jin Wikyung, who was also seeing the Water God Dragon for the first time, nodded solemnly.

“You’re quite right, Perfected Being. It sacrificed itself to prevent even greater bloodshed. This imugi¹ deserves to be called a Divine Dragon.”

“A terrible loss. We owe it so much. Should we not all pray for its soul together?”

Perfected Being Hyeongong was exactly what one would expect from an old Daoist who had cultivated profound Daoist mastery at Wudang, the sacred ground of Daoism.

He was nothing like the human garbage beside me, who couldn’t muster a shred of gratitude.

Overcome by a sudden surge of faith in the Primordial Heavenly Venerable,⁴ I quickly clasped my hands together.

“Amen.”

Hyeongong, who had been reciting a Daoist prayer, flinched and turned to me.

“Amen?”

“My mistake. Amitabha.⁵”

“…Repeat after me. Infinite Life Buddha.⁶”

“Ah, sorry. Infinite Life Buddha.⁶”

“Excellent. The Primordial Heavenly Venerable⁴ will watch over you, Young Friend Jin.”

“Ah. Yes.”

Does Wudang have missionaries too?

Hyeongong smiled like a Civilization⁷ player going for a religious victory. After a short prayer, he looked up at the sky.

“You, divine imugi.¹ I pray that you become an Azure Dragon there and soar across the heavens.”

“Ah…”

“Just as one would expect of you, Perfected Being.”

Zhuge Feng and Jin Wikyung, each with his own interests at stake, eagerly sang his praises. Hyeongong answered with a kindly smile.

“Ho ho. I merely did what was right. Now then…”

“Yes, Perfected Being?”

What profound words would the old Daoist say next?

Everyone, myself included, bowed their heads and listened reverently.

“Let’s start cutting it up.”

“…?”

“We still have to do what needs to be done, do we not?”

“…!”

I raised my head.

Greed for a weapon blazed in Hyeongong’s eyes. His gaze practically shouted what his voice did not.

I call a Pine-Pattern Ancient Sword! One Pine-Pattern Ancient Sword for me!

He wasn’t a Daoist. He was a lunatic.

Looking at the man I’d trusted for all of a moment, I was reminded of something.

Every last one of these Murim bastards is hopeless.

The raid was over. The fighting wasn’t.

One battle remained, and sometimes it got even fiercer than the raid itself.

Distribution of the spoils. Final settlement.

Hunters had to make a living, after all.

Maybe things were different for top Hunters earning several billion to tens of billions of won⁸ a year. In a raid party of lower-tier Hunters, though, arguments over byproducts worth a few tens of thousands of won⁹ were commonplace. That was why contracts were essential.

And the Water God Dragon’s corpse was a treasure of immense value all by itself.

We’d gone into this raid without drawing up a contract. In the modern world, that would have led to an enormous dispute.

But this was Murim. The people here belonged to the physical school: they preferred settling matters with their bodies to talking things out.

I knew just the word for people like that.

Suckers.

I glanced around. Nearly everyone was watching everyone else, waiting to see who would speak first.

Two people were exceptions.

The first was the Family Head of the Zhuge Clan, arguably the wealthiest family in Hubei.

“Ahem.”

Zhuge Feng cleared his throat, then went on as though his proposal were perfectly reasonable.

“Our family will have to make a concession in this matter. The Zhuge Clan will take only ten percent. The rest can go to everyone else…”

“Hold it. Are you dealing from the bottom?¹⁰”

“What!”

I cut him off with a quiet laugh.

“Ten percent? What did you do to earn ten percent? Take that much without working for it and you’ll get a stomachache.”

“You…”

“Am I wrong? I respect you, Sir Zhuge, but this isn’t right.”

Ten percent, when he didn’t do a damn thing? How dare he try to sneak in and rob us blind?

Zhuge Feng flinched at my glare, then tried again.

“Barely did a thing? Without the information the Zhuge Clan provided, you would have been blind even with your eyes open. You never would have made it here.”

“You have quite a long tongue.”

“Ghk!”

“The conclusion you reached from that information was that the Dongting Fisherman was the culprit. Wasn’t it? You’re telling me that the Dongting Fisherman, lying there injured, suddenly got up, did five somersaults, and then used Stepping on Empty Air to hop all the way here?”

“That… that was…”

Zhuge Feng fell silent. The only other person there who looked at ease gave him a gentle smile.

It was the smile of a man whose skill had brought the Jin Family of Taiyuan to its current standing.

“Sir Zhuge, I apologize for my younger brother’s rudeness.”

“C-Cough!”

“It’s my fault for teaching him so poorly.”

“His words were rather harsh.”

“They must have hurt your feelings. I really shouldn’t have let this happen.”

“It’s all right. At least you seem reasonable, Lesser Family Head, so I’m glad…”

“No. He deserves a proper scolding. Taekyung, you little rascal! Apologize at once!”

At Jin Wikyung’s booming shout, I immediately bowed my head.

“I’m sorry. I spoke too harshly.”

“Even if Sir Zhuge was trying to get something for nothing, there are lines you must not cross!”

“I apologize again.”

“No, wait. Hold on. Lesser Family Head Jin?”

Zhuge Feng seemed to sense something was wrong, but Jin Wikyung’s scolding went on.

“Taekyung, you played the greatest part in defeating the Water God Dragon! You practically saved Sir Zhuge’s life! But he is still the Family Head of a great clan and a respected elder of Murim!”

“Whew. I’ve committed a crime worthy of death.”

“Wait, Lesser Family Head.”

“You may have been raised without manners, but you’re still a youngster! How dare you treat Sir Zhuge, a man renowned throughout Murim, as though he were some shameless bastard? As soon as we return to our family, I’ll…!”

“Lesser Family Head Jiiin!”

Zhuge Feng cried out desperately and waved a hand, looking thoroughly fed up.

“All right. I understand. I understand everything. Just see that I’m taken care of.”

“Then you accept our apology?”

“I’m sorry, Sir Zhuge!”

“Yes, yes, I understand. Now both of you, stop.”

“Thank you. Even if it isn’t ten percent, we’ll make sure the Zhuge Clan gets a share it can be happy with.”

“A consolation cut is the universal rule.”

“…Whew.”

Game over. Yoshi, grand season.¹¹

Zhuge Feng wilted, worn out in body and spirit. Jin Wikyung and I exchanged satisfied smiles.

I could die and come back to life and still never match Zhuge Feng’s intellect. But you couldn’t learn this kind of negotiation at a desk.

This was wisdom born of experience.

I’d thrown a fit during a settlement to get one extra goblin poison dart. Jin Wikyung had spent years mastering the divine art of handling every shitty job the family could dump on him while no one knew whether his father was alive or dead.

If everyone else here was a sucker, we were cardsharps.

And judging by our contributions, I was obviously the star of the show.

Those who fight claim the spoils.

This was a battle we couldn’t retreat from—and shouldn’t.

Only by standing our ground against anyone who challenged us could we become true Hunters and true martial artists.

“Ten percent. Hand it over. Or hand over your neck.”

“We’ll hand it over.”

But there were exceptions to every rule.

…Fuck.