Chapter 496

“Hmm.”

Hyuk Mujin carefully picked up his brush. The small booklet spread across the table was already packed with entries from the past several days.

X Month X Day. Weather was shitty, then cleared up.

I had a nightmare about a monster that looked like a dragon. It scared me so badly I wet myself in my sleep.

As soon as I woke up, I sneaked down to the stream to wash my undergarments and trousers. Gung Gibang was already there, washing shit out of his trousers.

What a filthy bastard. Even among beggars, you’d be hard-pressed to find a worse one.

I have no idea why our Captain insists on dragging around someone who shits his pants.

But why am I in the infirmary?

X Month X Day. Clear skies.

The nightmare was real.

According to Mungyeong, the monster was an imugi¹. Demonic qi had seeped into its very marrow and driven it to commit an atrocity that outraged heaven and humanity.

Fortunately, thanks to the Captain stepping in, I was barely affected by the demonic qi. I was told to keep a diary for the time being and use it to piece my memories back together.

Still, I couldn’t believe all those ridiculous things I’d seen had actually happened.

While Mungyeong was explaining, a question occurred to me. I asked if what I’d seen in the dream—no, what I’d seen there, with him fighting—had been real too.

Mungyeong said no. Gung Gibang joined in asking him about it, but for some reason, I fell asleep right there. I must have been tired.

Then why is there a bruise on my forehead?

I don’t know. I’m going back to sleep.

X Month X Day.

I went to deal with the corpse. The imugi’s enormous size nearly made me piss myself once, and the Captain’s butchering skills nearly did it a second time.

I asked him to make me a Bone Sword and got beaten until my skull rang.

I heard the imugi’s corpse would be transported in secret after being divided into bones, scales, and flesh.

Oh, and for some reason, a considerable amount of the sorted remains disappeared.

Perfected Being Hyeongong was furious and declared that he would find the culprit, but that’s ridiculous. We’re not talking about something the size of a fist. Who could steal that much?

We left the little commotion behind and boarded the boat back. Once aboard, I noticed a terrible smell of shit coming from somewhere.

I couldn’t stand it any longer and brought it up. Before I could finish speaking, the Captain pointed at Gung Gibang.

He denied it vehemently, but I saw him washing his shit-stained trousers a few days ago. How could I believe him?

Mungyeong sat beside me with an odd expression the whole time.

He probably wanted to curse Gung Gibang out over the smell but held back to spare his dignity.

What a good kid. Every time I see him, he seems so innocent and easy to like.

X Month X Day.

It’s been two days since we dealt with the imugi’s corpse.

I don’t know why, but Sir Jeok hasn’t been around at all, and the Captain looks gaunter by the day.

I joked that he looked like someone being tormented by poison and ambushes day and night. He glared at me as if he wanted to kill me.

He only takes it out on me because I’m an easy target.

Just as I was thinking that, Gung Gibang said the same thing and got beaten too. I felt better.

X Month X Day.

This is my first entry in three days. I haven’t written because there was nothing worth writing about.

First Sir Jeok, and now the Captain has become hard to find. Mungyeong keeps wandering off somewhere too.

What else is a martial artist like me supposed to do with his free time? Gung Gibang and I found a decent place to train.

His breath smells like a sewer, but when he keeps his mouth shut and trains, he’s not so bad.

Cheongpung somehow found us. Every bit of advice he gave was useless.

Whenever I asked him about martial arts, I got one of two answers.

“It’s really easy.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

You bastard. If it were that easy, would I still be First Rate?

Maybe he got frustrated, because he demonstrated it for me. I still couldn’t understand a thing.

Every time we train, that water snake called something like Mimi sits beside us swallowing Blood Fish. Maybe that’s why it seems to have grown so much. Its horns too.

No wonder the Blood Fish seemed to have vanished. They must have all gone down that thing’s throat.

X Month X Day.

I’ve become fairly friendly with a few martial artists from the Zhuge Clan and Wudang, and they’ve told me some things.

Under the direct supervision of Sir Zhuge Feng, the Crouching Dragon Guest, the Zhuge Clan is testing a formation to seal the gap completely.

Apparently, if they can’t seal it, strange creatures like the Blood Fish will keep appearing. I have no idea what bizarre method those Dark Heaven bastards used to make such a thing.

Meanwhile, Wudang is still hunting the Killing Ghost.

Even with the authorities helping them comb through Hubei Province, they haven’t found him. The bastard must have made an art of running away.

X Month X Day.

It has been seven days and nights since I came here. The Captain’s complexion was calm when I saw him again after so long.

Before, he’d been covered in wounds from whatever training he was doing alone, and his face was either pale or tinged blue. He seems to be better now.

His temper has grown sharper instead, and he walks like a ghost.

He gives off so little sign of his presence that he caught Gung Gibang and me bad-mouthing him and beat us within an inch of our lives.

Seriously, how did he hear us from that far away?

Come to think of it, Mungyeong looked pleased while I was getting beaten… I must have imagined it.

“Hmm.”

That was where the diary of what Hyuk Mujin had seen and experienced over roughly ten days ended.

He gazed down at the booklet, lost in thought. Just as he was about to put brush to paper for a new entry, excited shouts came from outside.

“It—it worked!”

“Family Head! We did it!”

“Not you—I did it! As expected, I’m a genius! Zhuge Wuhou!²”

Slip! Splotch!

His concentration broke. His hand slipped, and the brush went astray.

Hyuk Mujin’s face contorted. So much for writing with the bearing of a great literary master.

“Which bastard was that?”

A familiar voice slipped into his ear as he raged.

“The bastard you’re talking about sounds like Sir Zhuge Feng. Shall I pass along your words?”

“Go ahead. Then Young Hero Gung dies, and I die right after him.”

Hyuk Mujin answered gruffly and put down his brush as Gung Gibang entered the tent without permission.

“But what on earth is happening outside?”

“Looks like the Zhuge Clan managed to seal the gap completely.”

“With a formation?”

“What else would they use? Rocks?”

“Oh, come on. Why couldn’t they use rocks?”

“Because that wouldn’t solve the problem. And if rocks were enough, they’d have sealed it ages ago. Think before you speak.”

“Oh, really? Is thinking too much why you shit yourself?”

“A dog that pissed itself criticizing a dog that shit itself.”

“Pissing is better than shitting. Besides, Young Hero Gung did it twice. Last time, when we went to dispose of the imugi’s corpse…”

“This is driving me crazy. I told you, that wasn’t me!”

Hyuk Mujin clicked his tongue as Gung Gibang thumped his chest.

“There’s only so much you can deny.”

“I’m telling you the truth!”

“If it wasn’t Young Hero Gung, then who was it? Hmm? Surely you don’t think Perfected Being Hyeongong did it?”

“Jin Taekyung! I swear that bastard reeked of shit—gah!”

Gung Gibang broke off with a start and looked around. Only a few days earlier, he had been beaten half to death after having a similar conversation.

“He’s not here, is he?”

Hyuk Mujin swallowed dryly as well.

The Jin Taekyung he knew had a fiery personality. Whoever started the insults, he would happily beat both sides senseless.

“P-probably?”

“You’re sure?”

“How would I know? Anyone who can sense the Captain coming is already a Supreme Peak master. Or a ghost.”

The two of them looked around with every sense on high alert, then let out deep sighs of relief.

Suddenly, the absurdity of their situation struck them. They had become afraid after saying only a few words.

“How long do we have to live like this?”

“Until the Captain dies.”

“What if he undergoes Returned to Youth³ someday?”

“Then we bite our tongues and kill ourselves. What else can we do?”

“Damn it. That Jin Taekyung bastard is a real monster. How can anyone be like that?”

Hyuk Mujin nodded vigorously. He’d known Jin Taekyung since his days as a delinquent; of course he understood.

“That’s true. And there are two of them, not just one.”

“Cheongpung? Don’t even get me started. After seeing the Drunken Eight Immortals Fist⁴ only a few times, he started imitating it pretty closely. If my master found out, he’d try to kill me for leaking our sect’s secret art.”

“Ooh.”

“……I have a fairly good idea what you were just thinking, but keep your mouth shut forever. I’m really going to die.”

“Oooh.”

“You rotten bastard.”

Gung Gibang shook his head, then asked, “What’s your lord doing, anyway? I hardly see him.”

“How would I know? He might be training. Might not. Some days he stays in his tent the whole time.”

“Sir Jin’s always busy with one thing or another. But Sir Jeok’s been gone a long time too.”

Jeok Cheongang had vanished without a trace after their first day there.

Plenty of people wondered where he was. None worried about his safety.

Fire King. Those two words were proof enough of what he could do.

“Who could harm the Fire King?”

“True. Even Dark Heaven wouldn’t dare. If they tried anything, three or four of their pillars would have been ripped out, and the surrounding area would already have been reduced to ashes.”

Gung Gibang nodded in agreement and continued.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen much of Mungyeong lately either.”

“Neither have I. Whenever I do see him, he’s with the Captain.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I figured it might be because the Captain got hurt while training…”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I smell something.”

“Did you shit yourself again?”

“Hyuk Mujin, you lunatic. Not that. I mean there’s something going on between them.”

Gung Gibang frowned in thought.

“Wait. Could it be?”

“Could what?”

“You still don’t get it? Why have those two been together so often lately?”

Hyuk Mujin’s expression changed. Listening to Gung Gibang, he began to see what he meant.

“Then maybe…”

“Exactly what you’re thinking.”

“Good heavens. How can this be?”

“If you think about it, it is strange. The Captain punches us whenever he gets bored, but he hasn’t used so much as a single act of violence against Mungyeong.”

“He hardly even curses at him anymore. And something was suspicious when we went to deal with the imugi’s corpse.”

“When Jin Taekyung disappeared, Mungyeong was gone too.”

“Exactly! The Beggars’ Sect’s future Sect Leader never disappoints!”

“That settles it. Mungyeong…”

Gung Gibang’s face went rigid.

“He must be learning martial arts from that Jin bastard.”

“Ah, Mungyeong! How could you make such a terrible choice?”

Hyuk Mujin was genuinely heartbroken. Mungyeong was like a clean white sheet of paper. The thought of Jin Taekyung’s ink soaking into it made his chest ache.

“What did that child ever do to deserve this?”

“What a tragedy. How can I face the Divine Physician in Sichuan?”

“Not Mungyeong! We can’t let him go down the same path we did!”

“It’s too late. Jin Taekyung is a Fiend. Now that Mungyeong is in that evil bastard’s clutches, there’s nothing we can do.”

“Then by now, Mungyeong must be…”

“Haa…”

“Ah…”

The two of them sighed in dismay at the same time. Thinking of Mungyeong, who must by now be fighting for his life under Jin Taekyung’s evil clutches, they felt their hearts grow heavy.

Please survive, Mungyeong.

Please, somebody save me.

Slice!

A gust of wind brushed my neck.

The pain was as cold as ice, then immediately flared hot. A bead of cold sweat ran down my forehead and dropped onto the ground with a soft tap.

Swish, tap!

I righted myself in midair and stared straight ahead.

“That was a little dangerous.”

A voice answered—or rather, a Sound Transmission.

—It was meant to be.

“No, I’m serious. I almost died.”

—Glad to hear it.

Where the hell is he?

I looked all around, but I couldn’t see him. There was only that Sound Transmission, coming from nowhere I could pin down.

“Fucking hell.”

—What kind of hell?

I took a deep breath and tightened my grip on White Flame’s shaft.

Toward whoever was watching me from somewhere unseen, I muttered as though spitting the words out.

“This is so fucking shitty I can’t keep doing this.”

Whoosh!

Instead of an answer, a blinding sword strike came flying at me.