When I first started working as a Hunter, the veterans had a saying they repeated all the time: you never knew when or where you might cross paths with someone again. So you had to be careful and flexible about making or breaking ties, or you’d have trouble later.
Looking back, I can’t think of a more useful piece of advice.
There was just one problem. Advice like that didn’t mean a damn thing to a guy like me.
“I think there’s a typo…”
The Great Zhongnan Sect.
The words slipped out the moment I read the four characters embroidered on the ornate silk. The nearest Daoist frowned.
“Daoist friend, what did you just say?”
“Oh, nothing. Talking to myself.”
“Talking to yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s rather familiar of you.”
“Yeah, sir.”
The middle-aged Daoist stared at me, momentarily dumbfounded. He drew a breath before he managed to speak.
“What are you playing at?”
“You called me a friend, so I talked to you like one. Besides, you started speaking casually to me first.”
“You look to be a fellow martial artist, but you’re much younger than I am. You have quite a mouth on you.”
“I can get away with it. I’m young, but in martial seniority I’m an old man.”
“What… did you say?”
At that point, it was only natural for him to sense something was amiss. My answer had thrown him off, and an uneasy murmur spread among the Zhongnan Sect disciples watching me and the Fire Dragon Pavilion members who’d appeared so suddenly.
“It’s true.”
At the sound of a low voice, the crowd parted to either side. I smiled warmly at the familiar faces beyond them.
“It’s been a while. Both of you.”
Neither returned my greeting. The two old Daoists had stopped abruptly three jang1 away.
“May your health be… uh… what comes after that?”
Hyuk Mujin answered without hesitation.
“Split in two.”
“May your health be split in two. That sounds a little off. Are you sure?”
“No. I don’t really know either. I just said the first thing that came to mind.”
“Are you insane? Now I’m even more confused.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever. Anybody know it?”
Ju Hwaran shot up a hand.
“May you be healthy in every way. May your health be sound in every respect.”
“Oh. As expected of Young Lady Ju. Ten points to the Griffin Yongbong Escort Bureau.”
“Hehe.”
She smiled bashfully, though she had no idea what I meant. I gave her a thumbs-up, then respectfully clasped my hands toward the two old Daoists.
“Anyway. Have you both been split in two?”
“……!”
“……!”
The mood turned as cold as if someone had dumped a bucket of water over us.
I belatedly realized I’d said it wrong and let out a deep sigh. Depending on how they took it, they might misunderstand, but it really was a slip of the tongue.
“Damn it, I got mixed up. Hyuk Mujin.”
“Yes?”
“Get down and put your head on the ground.”
“Ah, yes.”
As Hyuk Mujin performed the remarkable feat of putting his head down while seated in the saddle, one of the old Daoists finally spoke.
“You haven’t changed. Still as brazen as ever.”
He was the first of the two to speak, an old Daoist with a thick snow-white beard. It hung down to his navel, making him look like an immortal who’d descended to the mortal world. But I already knew better.
Hwangbo Eom, the Taeeul Merciless Sword, was about as far from an immortal as a man could get.
Not even close. If he were half as good inside as he looked, he never would’ve pulled a stunt that shameless.
It might be unfortunate for him and the Zhongnan Sect, but I didn’t have the memory of a goldfish.
They’d entrusted Ju Hwaran’s Yongbong Escort Bureau with transporting their priceless Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng, then secretly stolen it back and demanded compensation. It was an insurance scam meant to swallow the Bureau whole. I’d remember it for the rest of my life.
Of course, the old man beside Hwangbo Eom, darting his eyes this way and that, had a colorful record of his own.
“Looking for someone?”
“……What?”
“I asked if you were looking for someone, Great Hero Song Il.”
The Roaring Fury Swordsman’s eyebrows twitched at the amusement in my voice.
A year and several months ago, Song Il had tried to overturn the Jin Family of Taiyuan’s banquet, backed by his Supreme Peak martial prowess and his illustrious position as a Zhongnan Sect Elder. He’d nearly ended up the guest of honor at a funeral instead.
Now he was anxiously scanning our group, searching for one person: a man who, Zhongnan Sect or not, wouldn’t think twice about slapping someone across the face and kicking them in the shins for good measure if the mood took him.
I spoke gently.
“You can relax. The person you’re looking for isn’t here.”
“……!”
“Oh, did I get it wrong? Were you looking for someone else?”
Song Il glared at me in silence before squeezing out his answer.
“You dare—”
“Dare to what?”
That wasn’t me.
Jeok Cheongang dropped out of empty air, and Song Il’s eyes went wide.
“H-How can you be here?”
“What? ‘You’?”
“N-No, that’s not what I meant.”
Song Il stammered and backed away.
A bristly crop of red hair had grown over Jeok Cheongang’s once-smooth scalp, and his face now looked middle-aged. Word that he’d broken through to another great realm and regained his youth had spread far and wide. The Zhongnan Sect was no exception.
“F-Fire King Jeok Cheongang…!”
Someone blurted out the name, and shock swept through the crowd. They were seeing the Fire King himself for the first time—and realizing that the young upstart who’d appeared out of nowhere was the Blazing Flame Divine Dragon, Jin Taekyung.
Song Il looked between Jeok Cheongang and me as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. I spread my arms wide.
“Ta-da! I lied!”
“……!”
“What do you think? Surprised?”
We hadn’t seen each other in ages. A little surprise was only fair.
From the way he sucked in a breath and started trembling, I’d definitely surprised him. He looked less startled than on the verge of a fit, though.
Fortunately for Song Il, someone intervened before he keeled over.
“This humble Gong of the Zhongnan Sect pays his respects to Great Hero Jeok.”
A graying Daoist with a goatee of awkward, in-between length clasped his hands respectfully despite his haste. At the sight of the Zhongnan Sect Leader, Jeok Cheongang clicked his tongue, disappointed that he couldn’t keep tormenting Song Il.
“Well, it’s been a while. What was your name again? Gong Piljung?”
“Not Piljung. Iljung. I’m Gong Iljung, Great Hero Jeok.”
“Ah, yes. I remember now. Wind-and-Cloud War God Gong Iljung.”
“……Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord.”
“Good grief. I keep getting my words mixed up today. Sorry about that, Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord Gong Piljung.”
The Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord looked at me, all the fight gone out of him. His half-resigned eyes held a question he desperately wanted answered.
Is he doing this to mess with me on purpose?
Eyes can be an excellent way to communicate. I answered with mine.
No. He’s just like that.
That wasn’t empty reassurance. Honestly, neither Jeok Cheongang nor I had any particular grudge against Gong Iljung.
We had plenty against his Senior Brothers, Song Il and Hwangbo Eom. But we’d only crossed paths with Gong Iljung a couple of times, at the Star-Array Grand Banquet and the founding of the Murim Alliance. We had no reason to hold anything against him.
Jeok Cheongang looked ready to punch Song Il, yet he was still addressing Gong Iljung with a measure of courtesy. That said enough.
Besides, people don’t have much bad to say about the Zhongnan Sect Leader.
Feeling a little sorry that he’d caught some of the insult unintentionally, I shook my head. Gong Iljung seemed to relax.
“I’m surprised. I didn’t expect to see you here again.”
“Likewise.”
Jeok Cheongang answered without hesitation, then looked over the Zhongnan Sect Disciples filling the forest path and added,
“I thought you’d be in Gansu or Qinghai by now.”
“……”
“Shaanxi’s right next door. Why are you sprawled out resting here?”
Now that was a direct hit. Gong Iljung flushed.
“W-Well…”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish, but his eyes shifted toward the answer.
Song Il and Hwangbo Eom watched us with grim faces. I could piece together most of what had happened.
They’d dug in their heels and dared anyone to do something about it.
For some reason, those old bastards seemed to have held the whole Zhongnan Sect back. I was almost certain of it, especially since something similar had happened recently.
Come to think of it, those two were the only ones who didn’t show up.
When the bloodshed erupted in Shanxi Province, the Hebei Peng Family, Huashan, and even Murim Alliance Headquarters sent reinforcements. Their timely arrival helped us bring the fighting to a complete end.
The Zhongnan Sect?
Strictly speaking, they came.
A day after the battle was over.
Of course, sending reinforcements meant taking some risk, and I was grateful for that much. But it still left a bad taste in my mouth.
They said they’d sent a thousand troops. Three hundred reached Shanxi Province, more than half of them useless nobodies. And even that lot was late.
Put all three together, and the feeling of this is fucking bullshit was bound to rise from deep in my gut. Add the sight of two faces I never wanted to see again, and my mouth moved on its own.
“Well, it happens. Making the journey at all in your condition is a fine display of righteous spirit.”
Song Il and Hwangbo Eom frowned as the remark found its marks.
“You brat! I told you to stop running your mouth!”
Jeok Cheongang’s stern rebuke was directed at me. He went on without pause.
“Just making it this far while pissing blood all the way here makes you heroes! These great seniors of the Murim are only now beginning to act their age after all this time. How can you speak to them so rudely?”
“……!”
“……!”
“What have they done that’s so wrong? Did they throw their weight around to force a weaker sect to close its doors? Or steal a Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng and try to swallow an innocent Escort Bureau whole?”
Each word from the merciless Tongue King cut to the bone. Gong Iljung struggled to get his voice out.
“G-Great Hero Jeok. Please, for my sake and my Master’s…”
“All right. I’ll stop here.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord Gong Piljung.”
“……”
Vicious. Absolutely vicious.
Footnotes
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A jang is a traditional unit of length, approximately 3.03 meters (9.94 ft); three jang are about 9.09 meters (29.8 ft). ↩
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