Chapter 890

Clank. Clank.

Heavy footsteps drew closer, accompanied by the metallic clatter of heavy armor.

Hidden in the darkness just thirty feet away, I felt my heart seize up at Jeong Hogun’s sudden appearance.

What the hell are you doing here…?

I didn’t know why a Thousand Captain of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, which was responsible for the Inner Palace, had wandered all the way out here. But one thing was certain: at this distance, one clumsy move could give me away to Commander Jeong.

Damn it. If I’d known this would happen, I should’ve learned the concealment technique properly.

Regret washed over me, but it was far, far too late for that.

I’d struggled tooth and nail to survive in Murim, and that was how I’d met Jeok Cheongang. After inheriting the Fire Gate Clan’s legacy, a good old-fashioned brawl had become both my only major and my general-education requirement.

What kind of sect was the Fire Gate Clan?

Just look at the records of its past Sect Leaders. Every last one of them was a no-holds-barred tough guy. The kind of lunatic who looked like he’d take a shit standing up.

For three hundred years, this hipster sect with a pedigree had picked fights with the orthodox, unorthodox, and demonic paths alike. To the Fire Gate Clan, the concealment technique was practically a symbol of weakness.

One of its Sect Leaders, said to have been the greatest master in the world some two hundred years ago, had even left behind this record:

Want to learn the concealment technique?

Then you’re a homosexual.

Behold the audacity of treating one of Murim’s essential survival skills as a martial art for fags.

If he’d said that in the twenty-first century, a mob would’ve beaten him with rainbow-colored clubs. But for better or worse, this was Murim, a world steeped in barbarism, and the Fire Gate Clan’s lineage had carried on.

The problem was that, thanks to those fine ancestors and their policies, I was about to get screwed.

Seriously, shit. In three hundred years, couldn’t one Sect Leader have learned the concealment technique?

My mouth went dry. Maybe it was nerves, but I was starting to need to piss.

Jeong Hogun had come within ten feet of me. His face was hard as he questioned the Imperial Guards who’d neglected their post.

“Answer me. Why did you leave your assigned post?”

“S-Sorry, sir. The rain was so heavy, we started shivering…”

“Would you say the same thing if traitors slipped into the imperial palace undetected?”

“Of course not. We’re truly sorry, but…”

“Enough excuses. Who is your immediate superior?”

“W-Well, that is…”

“You don’t want to say? No, judging by how you’ve neglected your duty, perhaps you don’t want to serve in the Imperial Guard at all.”

“N-No, sir!”

“Then is this inside or outside?”

“……?”

“……?”

What was this? It reminded me of the Hunter Training Center.

Is this bastard a System user…?

I kept my presence hidden as best I could and watched, entertaining that reasonable suspicion about Jeong Hogun. Then he said something that made me doubt my ears.

“As of today, you are no longer members of the Imperial Guard. Go to your superior immediately, report what happened here, and turn in your badges, uniforms, weapons, and other equipment. I’ll guard this post myself until your replacements arrive.”

“……!”

“……!”

It was a bolt from the blue.

For the guards who’d only taken shelter from the rain beneath the eaves—and for me, waiting desperately for Jeong Hogun to leave.

“G-General!”

“Military law is strict. This is an order from me as a Thousand Captain of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.”

No. Don’t listen to him.

You’re civilians now anyway. Just punch him.

I fervently cheered on the middle-aged reservists—I mean, the Imperial Guard soldiers—but the two men who’d just been sent through the process of discharge still had a shred of reason left.

In the military, when they tell you to jump, you ask how high. And the Embroidered Uniform Guard was the place that could even cut off the heads of the highest officials—the sort who could make a flying bird drop from the sky.

Only two kinds of people could tell Jeong Hogun to go to hell right now:

Lunatics. Or people hoping to join the Fire Gate Clan.

Unfortunately, the two men in front of him were neither. They were perfectly normal.

“We’ll… obey your order.”

Their voices weak, they pulled their rain hats low and trudged away.

Or they tried to.

Just as Jeong Hogun had a moment ago, someone entirely unexpected appeared.

“How strange. Since when could the Embroidered Uniform Guard dismiss Imperial Guards on a whim?”

Swish.

The hem of a long robe brushed a puddle. A figure emerged through the endless rain. Jeong Hogun was silent for a moment before speaking.

“Eunuch Ma, what brings you here?”

“Nothing in particular. I was taking care of something outside and am on my way back. But…”

Ma Sanbao—the East Depot’s second-in-command and its de facto leader—smiled faintly.

“Could I have an answer to my question, Commander Jeong?”

“……I was only enforcing military law.”

“Of course you were. I know what a fine and capable man you are. But…”

At that moment, Ma Sanbao’s voice, which had always seemed to hover somewhere between a man’s and a woman’s, dropped low.

“Follow procedure. Follow procedure.”

“That’s…”

“The Imperial Guard may be under the Embroidered Uniform Guard, but there’s still a process to follow, isn’t there? The authority to impose a final punishment clearly belongs to their superior. That’s the military law you mentioned.”

“……!”

“That’s all I have to say. Is there anything else?”

Jeong Hogun stared at Ma Sanbao in silence, then spoke.

“No.”

“Good. Since we’ve run into each other, why don’t we walk together for a while?”

“Walk together?”

“Yes. It’s been quite some time, and I’m glad to see you. Besides, there’s something important I’d like to discuss. You’re heading back to the Inner Palace anyway, aren’t you?”

Jeong Hogun probably meant to answer, “No,” or “Now isn’t a good time.”

His expression didn’t change, but for an instant I could see his wariness and reluctance in his profile.

Ma Sanbao was half a beat faster.

“Oh, you don’t mind? Good. I knew you’d say that.”

The East Depot’s authority had been curtailed after the rebellion more than a decade ago, while the Embroidered Uniform Guard had risen to prominence. Even so, Ma Sanbao had long since become the East Depot’s de facto leader in place of the bedridden Cang Gong.

Before Jeong Hogun could get a word in, Ma Sanbao seized the initiative with an easy smile and patted him on the shoulder.

“Come along. There’s plenty to tell the Embroidered Uniform Guard—and plenty I need to hear.”

Ma Sanbao was both a Supreme Peak master and a skilled politician. For Jeong Hogun, a martial artist through and through, he was the worst possible opponent.

Having lost control of the conversation in an instant, Jeong Hogun could only leave with him, his face rigid as a rock. He did remember to leave a stern warning for the two Imperial Guards who’d escaped their surprise firing.

“As soon as your shift ends, report what happened here to your superior. Understood?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Understood!”

Of course they’d say yes now.

The guards snapped to attention and gave a hearty salute. Jeong Hogun turned away, and I was breathing an inward sigh of relief when a Sound Transmission reached my ear.

—I don’t know exactly why you’ve come all the way here, but there are many eyes watching. Be careful and use your wits. I’ll send word to you myself later.

“……!”

I whipped my head around. Ma Sanbao was looking my way and winking.

He knew. From the beginning.

I was a little startled, but it made sense when I thought about it.

Ma Sanbao was a master of the concealment technique who’d reached the Supreme Peak realm. He might not be as skilled as the Slaughter Saint, hailed as the greatest assassin of all time, but he was more than capable of spotting my amateurish attempt.

Did he expect me and come looking? Or was it just a coincidence?

I had no idea.

I didn’t know why he’d appeared here, or how he’d brought the assassins of Murim into this.

What mattered right now was that the Imperial Guards still nearby weren’t skilled enough to detect me.

Swish.

I moved like a shadow through the darkness, helped by the unrelenting rain and crashing thunder.

After leaping over several pavilions and walls, I picked up a timely hint from a conversation between some other Imperial Guard soldiers.

“Have you seen ‘that guy’?”

“Who? Oh, I think I know who you mean. He’s a monster.”

“I thought he was just big, but damn, can he eat. Especially five-spice pork. It hasn’t even been half a shichen¹, and he’s already put away more than twenty plates. The cooks are up in arms.”

“Good grief. I’d heard about him, but that much?”

“He’s a lunatic, I’m telling you. At this rate, they say he’ll eat every pig in Zhejiang Province with that mouth of his within a month. He looks like he’s got a pigsty in his stomach.”

“Impressive. But wouldn’t it be better to kick him out?”

“The imperial family has its reputation to consider. They can’t treat people brought here for the grand banquet poorly just because they eat a little pork. Orders have already been given to provide them with whatever they need for lodging and meals.”

“Good grief…”

They hadn’t even said his name. Just that guy.

Why was I embarrassed on his behalf?

Taishan, you bastard…

I looked to the heavens and sighed. Then I noticed a group hurrying somewhere.

There were a dozen or so of them, each carrying a large plate.

And then there was the rich smell of five-spice pork, strong enough to clear the nose of someone with sinusitis.

“……!”

I’d known my companions were staying somewhere in the Outer Palace, but not where their rooms were. I hadn’t expected to find them this way.

Is this for real?

I followed the group like Hansel and Gretel, quiet enough that no one noticed me.

All the while, a middle-aged man who looked like a cook fired off curses in a steady stream.

“Please, just stop fucking eating. If you’re human, please…”

That was when I saw it.

The large kitchen knife in his other hand was trembling.

“Food’s here.”

Creak—BANG!

The door to the pavilion flew open with a rough shove, and the Fire King, Jeok Cheongang, was surprised twice.

First, the middle-aged cook, who clearly hadn’t learned martial arts, was giving off genuine killing intent.

Second, behind the exhausted cook and the others carrying stacks of food, a familiar face was peeking out of the darkness.

“Y-You…!”

“What is it?”

“N-Nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, take some of this food. My arms are about to break.”

The cook’s reply was sharp. He had the palace attendants set down the plates, then left—after warning them that if they ordered five-spice pork one more time today, he’d poison it.

No sooner were they gone than a breeze blew open the door they’d just shut.

At least, that was how it would have looked to anyone else.

“What are you waiting for? Get in here.”

At the Fire King’s abrupt command, a young man appeared from the darkness and grinned.

“I’m here.”