Chapter 619

Poison Flower Pavilion…

A fitting name for a place in Nanman, where venomous beasts were everywhere. The catch was that it looked less like an inn or pleasure house than a mansion ready to collapse.

If the Thousand-Faced Fox’s directions were right, this should be the place.

I eyed the decrepit wooden building with suspicion. Around us, the mood grew more hostile by the second.

“You fucking Han bastards!”

“Go back to your own land!”

Whoosh! Crack!

Sama Pyo dodged a rock flying at the back of his head and muttered with a sigh, “Pavilion Master, we’d better go inside. Unless you intend to fight them right now.”

“That’s out of the question.”

For once, he was absolutely right. We couldn’t make enemies of every local in Nanman the moment we arrived.

I glanced at the crowd radiating a menacing aura, then opened the door to the Poison Flower Pavilion.

Creeeak.

The old wooden door gave a feeble scrape.

Dim light and a gloomy air filled the inn. A few crude tables stood far apart, like weeds growing here and there. The patrons seated at them turned toward us.

“Never seen those faces before… Han Chinese?”

Hk, ptui.

Were they Hydras?

People around here used phlegm like a passive Skill.

The ethnic patrons spat onto the dusty floor and rose from their seats, their faces flushed red.

“Han bastards dare come here? Do they want to die?”

“They’ve ruined the taste of my liquor. Let’s go. Nothing good will come of staying here with them.”

Bang!

Once the door slammed shut behind them, Ju Hwaran spoke with a troubled expression. “Something must have gone badly wrong. It wasn’t like this the last time I came.”

Song Ilseom nodded. “I agree. The ethnic groups of Nanman are wary of outsiders, but Yeongin was different. It’s the place closest to the Central Plains.”

“Exactly. Merchant groups and Escort Bureaus from the Central Plains used to pass through here. It wasn’t common, but it happened. So why…”

As Hwaran trailed off, an elderly voice cut in.

“Why? Because of an Escort Bureau. Han bastards just like you.”

We weren’t the only ones left in the Poison Flower Pavilion.

An old man who had been sleeping off his liquor until a moment ago thumped his bent back and went on. “Bad luck all around. For you lot, crawling into Nanman without knowing what’s happened. And for a certain old man whose business is about to dry up because of those fearless Han bastards.”

I realized who he was. “Are you the owner?”

The old man looked at me in surprise when I spoke the local language fluently.

“You can speak our language. Are you perhaps one of the Miao people?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t look like the Bai or Man people either. Judging by your face, you’re definitely Han Chinese… but you speak remarkably well. I’d believe you were born and raised here.”

As expected of the Integrated Language Pack. It certainly did its job.

Even Ju Hwaran looked surprised by my pronunciation. “When did you learn their language?”

“Well…”

I couldn’t exactly explain it, so I let the answer trail off before saying casually, “I picked it up somewhere along the way. Just a little trick.”

Beside me, Hyuk Mujin muttered under his breath, “I thought drinking, women, and gambling were the only tricks our Captain knew…”

“You little shit.”

Bam!

“Urgh!”

Mujin collapsed clutching his solar plexus. The old man clicked his tongue.

“That one sure knows how to get himself hit.”

“He’s always like that, so don’t mind him… Wait. You speak Chinese?”

“To a degree. I served as an interpreter for Han Chinese several times when I was young.”

As though it were nothing, the old man pointed a bony finger at Song Ilseom.

“That dark-looking fellow seems familiar. Were you here about three years ago?”

Ju Hwaran should have stood out most, but perhaps her human-skin mask was why he recognized Song Ilseom first.

Song Ilseom nodded silently. The old man slapped his knee.

“I knew it. Your name was something like Dragon King…”

“Yongbong Escort Bureau. Not Dragon King.”

“Right, Yongbong Escort Bureau. Unlike the other merchant groups and Escort Bureaus from the Central Plains, you Han Chinese came by two or three times a year. I remember you clearly.”

For someone who remembers so clearly, you got the name wrong.

I held my tongue and asked what I’d been wanting to ask since he spoke up. “What did you mean earlier?”

“Hm? What about?”

“You said an Escort Bureau was why things had gotten like this. In your words, Han bastards like us.”

The old man gave me a blank look. “I said that? When?”

“What? You definitely—”

“Don’t remember a thing.”

Like hell you don’t.

I caught on and sighed. “Food. Can you make us something now?”

“Of course. Pay me, and I’ll make you anything.”

At the word food, Taishan sprang up from where he’d been lying facedown on the table, looking close to death.

“Taishan wants five-spice pork!”

“So there’s one fellow with more energy than he knows what to do with. I’ll make chicken.”

“Why chicken? Taishan doesn’t want chicken! Five-spice pork!”

I had no idea how his request for five-spice pork had turned into chicken, but we needed to keep the old man happy. I called to the one person who could stop Taishan’s fit.

“Ma Pyo. What are you doing?”

“It’s Sama Pyo.”

“Right, Sa-pyo.”

“…Taishan. Enough. Sit down.”

Sama Pyo glared at me before settling Taishan down. Meanwhile, the old man held out his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“What?”

“Payment up front.”

“Ah.”

“Let’s see. One chicken per person is the minimum, so that’s five chickens. At one silver nyang each… ten silver nyang altogether.”

“…Ten silver nyang? Even if it’s one nyang per chicken, that should be five silver nyang.”

“Is that so? Then make it two nyang each.”

“What?”

“I said two nyang per chicken.”

“…”

“If you don’t like it, spit on the floor and leave. There isn’t another village within a hundred li¹, mind you.”

What a shameless racket. If this man had been born in Yongsan² fifty years ago, he’d have ended up a landlord.

I wondered why we hadn’t met any bandits on the road. Turns out they were in the inn, not the mountains.

It was highway robbery, but now wasn’t the time to save money. I took ten silver nyang from the hefty expense pouch the Murim Alliance had given me and handed them over.

“Here. Ten silver nyang.”

“For a Han, you catch on quickly.”

Rustle.

The old man swept up the gleaming silver with a grin. “Now, what about liquor?”

“No, thank you.”

“Drink.”

“…”

“I said drink.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue. Looking glum, I opened my pouch again.

Our first meal in Nanman was remarkable for all the wrong reasons.

The chicken was so scrawny it looked malnourished. The strong liquor had clearly been opened and partly drunk by someone else.

It was astonishing that the old man charged us dozens of silver nyang for all this. More astonishing still was how much of the food and liquor he consumed himself.

“Burp. That was good.”

“…”

Why are you the one who had a good meal?

The question rose to my throat, but I swallowed it. We had bought information with our money and our meal.

“The Heavenly Demon Escort Bureau?”

“That’s right. As I recall, they definitely said they came from Sichuan. There was one woman, and with the other men, there were nearly thirty of them.”

The old man nodded, his face flushed with drink. “At first, nobody thought much of it. Han Chinese had come to Yeongin before, and their group wasn’t particularly large.”

But they had been wrong. His eyes reddened by drink, the old man slowly recalled what had happened.

“People from a nearby village held a feast to welcome them. By the next morning, every last one of the villagers had been slaughtered.”

“…!”

“Our village was spared, thank goodness. But when we checked later, we found that some two hundred people had died that night. Men, women, children, even the elderly. Not one survived. It was those Han bastards’ doing, of course.”

“Good grief.”

It was a shocking and horrific story. Only now did I fully understand the hostile looks and oppressive atmosphere that had been directed at us.

Two words came to mind.

Dark Heaven. And the Southern Heaven Demon Empress.

It was hardly an overreaction to be troubled by one woman who had been part of the Heavenly Demon Escort Bureau.

I exchanged glances with the Fire Dragon Pavilion members, who had been listening with grim expressions, then took a sheet of paper from my Inventory.

“Sorry to interrupt, but could you look at this?”

“What is it?”

The paper I had taken out was a drawing. More precisely, it was a likeness of Honglan—or rather, the Southern Heaven Demon Empress—created from the testimony and memories of several people, including me.

I showed it to him on the off chance he’d recognize her. His reaction was lukewarm.

“That artist is quite skilled. Who is she?”

“Hmm, no. I was just wondering if you recognized her.”

“Never seen the woman in that drawing. I’d remember a beauty like that. Old as I am, I’m still a man.”

It wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for, but I wasn’t too disappointed. Whatever sort of person the Southern Heaven Demon Empress was, she had a striking appearance. Ju Hwaran had hidden her face with the human-skin mask Song Ilseom made for her. The Demon Empress could have done the same in any number of ways.

It wouldn’t be strange at all for the Southern Heaven Demon Empress to have mastered an extraordinary disguise technique.

I turned back to the old man. “Where are those Central Plains people from the Heavenly Demon Escort Bureau now?”

The Quest required us to meet an agent of the Hidden Shadow Pavilion, but if those people were still nearby, that changed things.

As if reading my thoughts, the old man asked, “Why? Thinking of going after them?”

“If we can.”

“Well, it’s an admirable thought, but it’ll be difficult. More than fifteen days have already passed.”

“If you know which way they went, or have some idea where they were headed, it’s worth a try.”

Every Fire Dragon Pavilion member here was formidable. Even Hyuk Mujin, the least skilled among us, was a Supreme First Rate master who had survived countless battles and brushes with death.

Yet despite my attitude, the old man merely let out a short laugh.

“It’s impossible.”

“Sir, I don’t think you understand—”

“I’m not the one who fails to understand. You are. Every one of those Central Plains people is dead.”

I froze. “What?”

“I mean exactly what I said. There were countless tribal warriors among those who suffered that calamity. Do you think people like that would have stood by and let themselves be slaughtered? The Central Plains people all died too. We found their bodies after they were poisoned with deadly venom and collapsed before they could get very far.”

“…!”

“No matter how skilled you are, you can’t chase them into the afterlife. And that goes for…”

His voice trailed off. A moment later, he sighed.

“…an agent of the Hidden Shadow Pavilion who’s already old as dirt.”

Gulp. Gulp.

The old man drained the last of the strong liquor and smiled at me.

“Good to meet you, Blazing Flame Divine Dragon Jin Taekyung.”