Misunderstanding (3)
Anyone else might not get it, but to me, Big Brother was the very incarnation of unfairness. For starters, an Absolute shouldn't be crawling out of some rundown back room. Martial arts aside, that dignity of his couldn't possibly have been forged in a place like that.
The boundless dominance that crushed all beneath it. The aura emanating from Big Brother transcended martial realms entirely. Honestly, I had no idea why he was so strong. The more I peeled back the layers, the more enigmatic he became.
So I accepted it without question. When Big Brother spoke, it etched itself into my mind like a heavenly decree, leaving no room for rebuttal.
"But what massive sin did your siblings commit to deserve circling the Gu Clan Manor like that?"
"Martial training."
"...I see."
"Want me to tell you?"
"I'm good!"
"Don't worry about the effects."
"I'm not. At that level, they'd shrug off any humiliation or disgrace."
Martial artists get most riled up when embarrassed, but after that kind of training, they'd develop a skin thick enough to endure any insult. Sure, they might get stronger that way, but I had zero interest in learning it. Beggar or not, I was still the heir to lead the Gangbang.
'A little brother, fine—but putting a sister through that too...' Big Brother's gender equality gave Cheol-san chills. Maybe she should forget about marriage.
Cheol-san hurriedly changed the subject. Continuing the conversation was a hopeless tangle of incomprehensible developments. No little brother could analyze Big Brother's standards.
"Bokho Merchant Group is secretly recruiting assassins and ronin."
"They're crossing the line."
"Frankly, I can't fathom why they'd go this far. It's just digging their own grave."
"Petty pride tends to trip people up."
As Cheol-san said, Bokho Merchant Group's movements weren't worth fretting over. Whoever they recruited, their target was set in stone.
"I'll take my leave now."
"Why not rest a bit?"
"My little brother's turned into a real mess—how could I, as his big brother, just kick back?!"
"Then let me help a little more."
"...No thanks!"
"Don't refuse."
Pointless words. He was already having nightmares. Sleep itself terrified him. Without the goal of saving his brother, he might have given up long ago.
Thud thud thud! Cheol-san fled in haste.
"His lightness skill's improved."
The Gu Clan Manor had its secrets too. Beneath the clan head's office lay an underground cavern connected by a hidden passage.
Don't expect some legendary treasure there, though—that would be a mistake. It was an empty space that had sat unfilled since the clan's founding. Clan operations were too tight on funds to follow the ancestors' intentions.
They'd built it too grand and just wasted initial capital. It was the reason the Gu Clan had struggled until Gu Seo-jin took over.
These days, it was better to entrust funds to battlegrounds for interest and secure liquidity than hoard them in storage. Carrying large sums during trade caravans was insanely risky anyway. You couldn't arrive empty-handed, but battlegrounds ensured safety.
The underground vault was meant for storing funds once they became a major merchant group. But it remained unfilled, choked with cobwebs. They no longer even used the secret passage.
How the hell did his son find out about this place? Even unused, it was a secret reserved for the clan head alone. He should scold the boy harshly—but he couldn't bring himself to blame his son.
Ah! Words failed him.
The neglected secret warehouse had run out of torch oil long ago, plunging it into darkness without light. Yet it shimmered with dazzling colors now. His eyes didn't know where to settle. He couldn't believe this was the same warehouse he knew. It felt like a dream.
"What in the world is this?"
"It's not much."
Gu Seo-jin swallowed dryly at his son's indifferent response. If this wasn't much, what did that make him, the one who'd led Jeokgeum Merchant Group? His pride in elevating them to mid-tier crumbled in an instant.
"Son, what the hell have you been up to out there?"
"I found the Golden Merchant Lord's tomb."
"That legendary swindler who said he'd build a castle with gold?"
"Yes."
He knew his son was scheming with Cheol-san, but unearthing a tomb of a merchant legend? It made sense, yet the sheer volume of gold left him breathless. Now he'd have to ask his son for pocket money.
'Nice problem to have.' Money from his own son! Something he'd never dreamed of from his father. Recalling the past made it all the more perfect.
"Invest as you see fit, Father. But stock up on easy-to-store grains like rice, plus as many herbs as possible."
"Why grains all of a sudden?"
"We need to prepare."
"I don't get it."
The empire wasn't unstable enough for famine. Years of good harvests meant food was plentiful—why crop prices were falling lately. Hoarding for an unpredictable future would be wasteful. Grains didn't keep forever; poor storage meant rot.
"This herb list looks like prepping for an epidemic. Any signs?"
"Better safe than sorry."
"Can't even doubt you with this."
"The decision's yours."
"Dumping responsibility is a rotten habit!"
"I'll take all the blame."
Watching his son's unyielding resolve, Gu Seo-jin felt the generations shift. Boys grow daily, but his son's change was extreme. Still, the wealth before him was proof enough. Time would tell—money doesn't lie. With this much, they could weather losses. If famine, floods, or plague hit, the gains would be massive.
"Don't chase profits."
"Lose money, then?"
"Break even is enough."
"Thinking big, aren't you!"
Gu Seo-jin admired his son's broad vision. True merchants valued people over gold, but forgoing huge profits for reputation wasn't easy—especially in extraordinary times. Slap a charity label on it, and it'd sell out.
'Free money, huh?' If it was just because it wasn't hard-earned, that'd be trouble. Easy-come money must be spent wisely, or its allure leads to ruin.
'If he follows through, becoming a major merchant group isn't far-fetched...' Growing from small to mid-tier needed luck. But a renowned powerhouse required ability, wealth, and prestige.
"The rest I can spend freely?"
"I trust you, Father."
"...Don't trust too much."
His son's utter faith was reassuring yet burdensome. Past days scraping for funds felt dimmed, but they'd lacked this capital.
'With money, anything's possible.' Gu Seo-jin took pride as a merchant. Time to enact long-delayed plans.
"I'll turn it into ten times more."
"Looking forward to it."
Cheon-woo wasn't hung up on his father's success or failure. Success was great; failure, recoverable. 'As long as his money sense isn't Mu-ho level.'
Mu-ho's words: [Failure's just a side effect of not enough money. Pour it like water, and success comes eventually.]
That's why he rarely entrusted money to Mu-ho. Blink, and nyang vanished into thin air. Worse, everything he touched failed. Dodging Mu-ho's picks was investment gospel.
Thick darkness blanketed the night. Storm clouds shrouded the sky, hiding moon and stars. A drizzle turned to downpour.
Shwooooosh!
Perfect assassination weather. Even a neighbor's murder would drown in the roar. Assassins picked such nights, using shadows as shields for silent kills.
Kraaack! Thud! Splatter!
Screams erupted, bodies hit the ground, slumped in mud. Barely a flicker of life left—too weak to hold. Rage and injustice fueled their final gasps. They hadn't even tried fighting back. Not weak enough for such a pathetic end.
Known as the Night Trio, infamous shadow assassins. In darkness and rain, they could take even superiors.
Dark Hand Blood Dagger—Poison Blade.
Dark Cloud Blood Dart—Poison Mountain.
Dark Ring Heart-Stealer—Poison Mirror.
Peak freelancers, said to kill even Transcendents. Their trio's Deathkill Formation could fell peak experts. Yet here they were, dying from a single measure, fist, and strike—in their specialty darkness, slain by an assassin.
The absurdity choked them even in death.
"...What the hell are you?"
"Not very assassin-like."
"...Who sent... Kraaack!"
"Pointless question."
The Dark Blood Trio's ridiculous end.
Cheon-woo offered no answers. No reason, just waste. He'd struck first. Trivial villains didn't deserve time. Minimal effort perfected the Path of Dominance Through Destroying Evil.
"No one lacks a backstory."
Everyone had one. These brothers, surprisingly filial—yet villains living off others' blood.
Cheon-woo, tipped off by Cheol-san, had ambushed early. Perfect timing for their move, and his kill.
He valued no fair fights. Paewang's might was invincible, but he never slacked on vigilance. Always optimal paths, no gaps. All for the goal.
Cheon-woo severed the trio's heads, then ghosted like a gale into the target's home. He'd fortified well, but to Cheon-woo, it was wide open.
Darkness and rain aided his infiltration.
Swish!
Owner's permission? Irrelevant. He'd earned entry by saving the man's life. The target, oblivious to peril, slept soundly.
Time to wake him.
Thwack! He kicked the face.
Snort, snort! Unaware even in sleep.
Slap! Slap!