Chapter 836

Five days. Short, depending on how you looked at it. Long, depending on how you looked at it.

I couldn’t say which it felt closer to.

But one thing was certain: it was enough time for the swift ship the Yangtze River Channel League was so proud of to travel from Yunnan to Sichuan along a tributary of the Yangtze.

It’s been a while since I was here.

I murmured to myself and looked at the scene spread out before me.

A stretch of the Yangtze so vast it looked like the sea. As the sun went down, the river had turned black, its surface streaked with lights of every color.

“Those are…”

Namho narrowed his eyes. Hyuk Mujin supplied the answer to what those countless distant lights were.

“Pleasure boats.”

“Do you think I asked because I didn’t know?”

“Oh, you know about those too, Old Man Nam? I thought you’d never seen one, since there’s nothing like that in Nanman.”

“Hah!”

Namho snorted so hard I wondered if he’d done it through his ass instead of his nose. Then he gave a hollow laugh.

“Have you ever seen such a fool? You’ve already forgotten what kind of man this old man is.”

He was right. Namho wasn’t just an ordinary old man from Nanman.

Nanman blood ran through his veins, but he knew the Central Plains’ geography and customs better than plenty of old martial-world veterans who’d chewed their share of bok choy¹ in their youth.

It might all be in the distant past now, but Namho had once been one of the Hidden Shadow Pavilion’s finest agents.

“Oh, right. You’re around so much, I keep forgetting.”

Hyuk Mujin scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Namho nodded at him with a solemn expression.

“I’ll forgive you. It’s only natural—you find this old man so sociable and approachable.”

“You are approachable. You remind me of Grandpa Hong, who lived next door when I was a kid.”

“Grandpa Hong? I don’t know the man, but if he reminded you of me, he must have been a good person.”

“He made a fortune lending money at exorbitant interest. He always took bodyguards with him when he went to the market, probably because he’d given so many people reason to hate him. Anyway, he ended up dead.”

“……”

“But if you knew what pleasure boats were, why were you staring at them like that?”

Is this bastard trying to start something with me?

Namho glared at Hyuk Mujin with exactly that look, then let out a deep sigh.

“I wasn’t staring because I found them fascinating. It left me feeling hollow.”

“Hollow?”

“Yes. It made me think how little the Central Plains have changed.”

Namho gazed at the ships gliding along the Yangtze, their lights bright in the distance, and continued slowly.

“Some people risk their lives fighting to set a collapsing world back on its feet. Others float pleasure boats and lose themselves in indulgence. How could I not find it absurd? How could I not feel hollow?”

“Ah.”

“I’m not blaming you, young as you are. Nor am I telling you to be angry with them. But there’s just one thing I’d like to ask of you.”

Hyuk Mujin had fallen silent. Namho looked at him and the others one by one, then added bitterly, “Whatever you see, please don’t lose heart. As long as you have the will, you can get back up no matter how many times you fall. But once your will breaks, you can accomplish nothing.”

This wasn’t the Namho we usually saw.

This was advice from a veteran who’d weathered the storm of the Great Faction War—and from an old man.

And I wasn’t imagining the way his gaze lingered on me in particular.

He’s worried. Right now, the Blazing Flame Divine Dragon Jin Taekyung is just a kid who’s never been through a proper war.

I was young even by modern standards. In Murim, people had all the more reason to worry about me.

I’d only started making a name for myself in Murim less than two years ago. And on top of that, I’d barely passed twenty.

To an old martial-world veteran, Jin Taekyung of the Jin Family of Taiyuan was far too young to be expected to have matured mentally.

Of course…

Hunter Jin Taekyung is different.

If someone asked whether I’d grown up, I’d probably say no. I still acted like a kid now and then—or pretty often, honestly—and let my emotions get the better of me.

But at least I wasn’t so easily shaken that the people around me needed to worry.

No. I’d been through too much for that.

Someone I’d believed was on my side—someone I’d once even looked up to—had stabbed me in the back. I’d lost someone close to me in the process.

While I risked my life trying to save people, the media tore into me, and people online split into two camps and waged another war.

Even when a country’s capital falls and a hundred thousand people are killed or injured, there are bystanders everywhere.

People who click on the news without a hint of feeling, then close the article before they’ve read half of it.

Why?

It’s obvious.

They’ve got a new game to play, or it’s time to head to the club.

Or they’re the sort who don’t care if tens of thousands die, as long as it happens on the other side of the world instead of next door.

Once, every one of those things hurt.

But as time passed, my heart—scratched raw by countless strangers whose faces I’d never seen—grew calloused and hard. The pain that used to pierce deep into me eventually became familiar.

Yeah. That was enough.

I had too much on my shoulders to let every little thing wound me and make me suffer.

“They’re having a good time.”

I finished thinking, gave a quiet laugh, and said it aloud. Namho’s eyes widened at my words. Then he, too, gave a bitter smile.

“Yes. They are.”

I didn’t know whether that had reassured him. But given time, he’d see for himself.

The Blazing Flame Divine Dragon Jin Taekyung wasn’t just some kid overflowing with strength and talent.

“Let’s go. The moment we reach the landing, we move out. No dawdling.”

At my order, Taishan shot his hand up.

“Taishan wants five-spice pork.”

“Five-spice pork?”

“Yes. Taishan’s favorite.”

“Five-spice pork sounds good. It’s delicious.”

“Captain. Good. Taishan and Captain agree.”

“But are you sure? By the time we get to an inn, you’ll have swallowed so much river water there won’t be room in your stomach for five-spice pork.”

Taishan looked back and forth between the river, black enough to hide its depth, and me, fully prepared to administer the Yangtze dip-and-taste punishment. He slowly lowered his hand.

“No. Taishan thought again. Taishan doesn’t want five-spice pork.”

“You sure?”

“Mm-hm. Sure…”

His voice drooped. Sama Pyo gave him a sympathetic look. Namho, looking disappointed for an entirely different reason, beckoned to the head of the river pirates.

“Hey, Sea Otter. Come here.”

“It’s Sudal.”

“That’s what I said. Sea Otter.”

“Sudal…”

“Sea Otter.”

“……”

Messing with a man’s name like that.

Watching the river pirate’s face as Namho stubbornly mangled his name until he didn’t even have the energy to argue, I felt sorry for him.

I patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“Come on, we’re almost there. Hang in there a little longer.”

“Th-thank you, Great Hero Jin.”

“I know we’ve been pretty hard on you. When we see Senior Mu Song, I’ll tell him Uncle Heimdall had a rough time.”

“Sorry, but who’s Heimdall…?”

“Your name isn’t important right now. Let’s get to the landing first. Mister, are you sad to see us go? If you are, we could spend a week cruising around the Yangtze together.”

Sudal’s—or Sea Otter’s, or Heimdall’s—unfocused eyes flashed. Whether it was anger or madness, I couldn’t tell. He bellowed at his subordinates until his voice nearly gave out.

“You lazy bastards! Pick up the speed!”

“……”

Judging by his reaction, they really must have had a rough time.

Then again, with the Fire Dragon Pavilion members being impossible to control, it was no wonder.

Even Ju Hwaran, the only woman in our party and the only sane one, was showing signs of something wrong.

“Ah, does he have to shout so loudly? The Captain’s already exhausted. What if all that noise gives him qi deviation? What’s he thinking?”

“……”

At this point, even hearing it scared me.

Her lips kept moving as she muttered, but she had the diction of a Murim Alliance announcer and the projection of an opera singer. Every word hammered into my ears like a nail.

I’d only been out of the cabin for half a day, and I was already feeling it. The river pirates had endured five whole days. Their faces had gone pale.

They look more likely to suffer qi deviation than I do…

As I seriously considered their condition, their leader hurried over. He’d been directing the swift ship, burning through the last of his energy.

“G-Great Hero Jin. There’s a problem.”

His face, already as terrifying as a demon’s, had gone stiff.

Good thing we were on the Yangtze. If this were the Grand Line,² that face alone would’ve sent his bounty soaring and made him a government target.

I asked with sincere concern, “I knew this would happen. Have your qi and blood gotten tangled up?”

“What? No. I’m perfectly fine—”

“I’ll do whatever I can. Don’t hold it in—tell me what’s going on. Your complexion’s awfully dark. And you’re looking off in a completely different direction. You’re a wreck.”

“My face has looked like this since I was born. And my eyes have been like this ever since my father beat me when I was fifteen.”

“Pardon?”

“Please don’t misunderstand. He was just startled. He’d been sleeping soundly, then woke up suddenly and saw my face the moment he opened his eyes. I probably would’ve thrown a punch too.”

“Ah. Your father…”

An ordinary person might have been flustered. They’d stammer, struggle for something to say, then offer an apology worse than saying nothing at all.

But with the composure of a Supreme Peak master, I pointed naturally at the fireworks lighting up the sky.

“Whoa, look. Fireworks. Is there a festival?”

“They’re fireworks, but it isn’t a festival. That’s the problem.”

“A problem? What’s wrong with setting off a few fireworks?”

“Look closely. At the ships, not the sky.”

The ships? What about them?

I lowered my eyes without thinking.

The pleasure boats had come much closer. At last, I understood why Sudal had hurried over.

“Those are…”

“They’re not all pleasure boats. No wonder there were so many more lights than usual.”

He was right.

From a distance, those ships had seemed like just a few more lights among the rest. Up close, they looked ten times bigger and sturdier than any pleasure boat I knew.

More like…

“Huh. They look like military vessels.”

“They are military vessels.”

“Oh.”

That stopped me for a moment, but it didn’t really matter.

Military vessels, my ass. What was there to worry about?

The Yangtze River Channel League’s flag was flying from the swift ship I was on, and I knew perfectly well that this huge band of river pirates had long ago greased the officials’ palms and made friends in the right places.

Or at least, I thought I knew.

Bang. Bang. Baaang!

Fireworks burst one after another. The military vessels turned at an angle, presenting their broadsides. Something dark appeared between the sturdy wooden planks.

“Sea Otter, what’s that?”

“Looks like a cannon.”

“I know that. Are you messing with me, Heimdall? Why are they aiming it at us?”

The river pirate leader, by now stripped of his name entirely, gave a hollow laugh.

“Because the fireworks they just set off were the signal to attack.”

“What?”

The moment I asked again, dumbfounded—

BOOOOM!

About a hundred cannon barrels belched fire at once.