Growth (1)
There was no official acknowledgment, but the dispute between the Bokho Merchant Group and the Hwajeong Merchant Group had come to a halt. The conflict, which had seemed destined to end only with the Hwajeong Merchant Group's collapse, stopped abruptly, drawing all eyes to the reason why. Given Bokho leader Du Won-gwang's obsessive nature, no one believed it would end like this.
The Cheongpung and Seongdo Merchant Groups were investigating the situation in detail. And the revealed truth behind the resolution was utterly different from what anyone had expected.
The Bokho Merchant Group had tried everything to contain it, but complete suppression proved impossible. Their compound walls and buildings lay in ruins, and escort warriors had died. Among them, the death of Dam Sa-baek had caused ripples far greater than anticipated. Though a one-man lineage, he had been a Transcendent master. The gulf between Peak Expert and Transcendent was vast.
Setting all that aside, the fact that Bokho leader Du Won-gwang had lost his arm clean from the shoulder was on another level entirely. For the head of a major merchant group to suffer such a wound not from external foes but from within his own stronghold—what kind of shockwave would that send?
What on earth had happened? People knew, yet they couldn't speak it aloud. It was obviously tied to Tak Jung-il, and the only one capable of such a deed was the Unknown Wanderer.
Setting aside the wanderer's astonishing martial prowess, no one had foreseen such brazen audacity. Who could pull off such madness alone?
The emergence of a new divine figure? Too domineering for that label. Dam Sa-baek slain, dozens of escorts swept away. Considering the destructive traces left on the compound's buildings, even "wanderer" felt too modest.
Yet calling him a demonic cultist or fiend didn't fit—the Bokho Group's response and justification were sorely lacking. Having sent assassins and ronin multiple times already, the Unknown Wanderer's retaliation was righteous. Worse, the Bokho Group had never officially admitted to dispatching those killers to Hwajeong. They couldn't very well cry foul now and name the Unknown Wanderer as the culprit.
Everyone knew, yet no one could say it. Bokho's handling was frustrating, but admitting it would rebound all their karma upon them.
If the Unknown Wanderer had orchestrated this assault with such contingencies in mind, it meant he possessed not just martial skill, but resolve and cunning as well.
At this point, major merchant groups like Seongdo and Cheongpung—and even sects—were coaxing and soothing Tak Jung-il to forge ties with the wanderer. For Tak Jung-il, it was utter insanity.
"That mad bastard!!"
Not some midnight thunderbolt—who could've predicted an assault on Bokho? He regretted inwardly cursing the guy for just burning money every day.
"Damn it, what do you want me to do?"
He couldn't lash out recklessly; his own tracks were too damning. Anyway, sneaking into Bokho at night and severing Du Won-gwang's arm? The guy had to be completely unhinged. Tak himself had fantasized about killing Du, but he'd never dared for fear of the fallout. How many people actually act on such thoughts? His misfortune was that one of those rare lunatics was the Unknown Wanderer.
"Feels good inside, though."
Having engineered this mess, the wanderer had gone radio silent.
-Worth every coin. No need for further contact.
Indeed, as the man said, he'd more than earned his pay—overdelivered, even. Such an outrageous act couldn't stay hushed; rumors were inevitable. But what about the one left holding the bag?
Seongdo, Cheongpung, and various sects were knocking on his door. He couldn't just play dumb. Bokho halting the dispute was mere temporary truce. With them surely sharpening blades for revenge, exposure of the broken contact would make survival dicey.
"Pull this shit and vanish—what the hell?!"
He had to hide it thoroughly, but how long could he? External pressures aside, internal unity was fracturing.
"Why the hell is a steppe warrior here?!"
They'd suggested leveraging steppe warriors to pressure Bokho, but this was poison, not medicine. Half-knowledge was trouble enough; if truly a steppe warrior as the wanderer claimed, it was dire.
He'd rather know nothing.
Thud!
No hope. He'd flail to survive, skating on thin ice, unsure when death would claim him.
"...Hang myself?"
Couldn't do that. Too scary, too unjust. By dawn, Tak Jung-il's hair had turned snow-white from endless torment.
As rumors rocked Sacheon Province, Ga-bok, Cheon-gi, and Cheon-ye burned with fervor. They trained with a sincerity they'd never known.
'Young master! What the hell have you been up to?'
'This crazy bro cut off the Bokho leader's arm!'
'Bro, this is seriously awkward!'
Impossible to ignore the rampant gossip. The world didn't know who, but they did. Why? The madman didn't hide from family. He detailed his exploits brazenly. They hadn't asked for such granular accounts—chillingly precise, like witnessing it firsthand.
'Young master's the culprit!'
'Bro's the butcher!'
'Bro, what about my mouth?'
Their tongues itched, but they couldn't blab. One slip, and it'd explode beyond control. For a cushy clan life, they had to sew their lips shut.
On the flip side, they marveled at their lord, brother, big bro's dignity. He'd orchestrated it all solo, yet none knew. Just petty squabbles among foes.
'No chance to catch up!'
'Where'd he snag that opportunity?'
'Embarrassing—why get stronger?!'
Marriage prospects aside, they were growing stronger. If it were mere bullying training, they'd quit; but shame fueled progress, towering like Cheon-woo's majesty.
'How obedient do I gotta be from now on?'
'Bro, I'll live right from here on! Please stop nagging!'
'Bro, you started this—you own me to the end!'
They wouldn't quit training. But advancing felt impossible. Ga-bok's evasion drills led to counterattack hell—watching made them retch. Beat down unilaterally, again and again. Yet they persisted, growing stronger. The real issue? Cheon-woo outpaced them vastly.
'Gotta know how much stronger he got!'
'Bro, keep powering up endlessly and your lil' bros get heartbroken!'
'Bro, I'll become the world's top wanderer, watch me!'
Ga-bok, Cheon-gi, and Cheon-ye steeled their resolve. They'd grow strong, repay the humiliation. Until then, they recited Kyoto Three Caves, Waeshin Sangdam.
'Think it's possible?'
'Gotta be, right?'
'Yeah...'
Hope was their lifeline. Fail, and they'd end up like Sacheon Three Heroes—screaming daily, nightmare-plagued. Their training was hell too, vomit-inducing. At least they slept soundly. Small consolations misted their eyes.
"Tak Jung-il's lucky."
"Tch! If you say so."
Gu Seo-jin placed little stock in his son's words. From rumors alone, it was a miracle Tak hadn't hanged himself. Everything smashed by Cheon-woo. Betrayed by his own son. Trade routes and clients shrinking daily. Under constant assassination threat. Was this living? And Cheon-woo, far from easing it, had multiplied Tak's burdens manifold. Even vicious Yama's Bane wouldn't go this far. Whispers said his hair turned white overnight.
"Steppe warrior? You mean remnants of the Yuan Empire?"
"Yes."
"If those ruthless bastards catch him, he won't live—even if alive."
"They know their place, at least."
Knew their place? How could you claim that? You speak like you know, but you've barely left Shaanxi. Do you even know where the steppes are? If true, Tak was as good as dead—daily threats, potential abduction anytime. Better a clean death. Never thought I'd pity Tak Jung-il. Guy deserved a solid punch, but after son's gleeful thrashing, now abandoned. Not mere abandonment—a massive dump left uncleaned. Dumper and cleaner separate. My son, but truly wicked.
External woes aside, internal traitors loomed; no room for lapse, needles under every inch.
"Steppe folk might target family too."
"I see."
Gu Seo-jin sighed at the indifferent reply. As expected, no shred of pity. Pity those opposing the Gu clan. Once enemies, Cheon-woo struck—at minimum, three clans wiped.
"Tak won't live easy."
"If worried, I can end him now. Even clan extermination—they won't suspect us. More effective this way."
Gu Seo-jin couldn't condone it. Permission meant Tak's kin doomed overnight. Cheon-woo could, and had calculated post-disguise fallout: impact on Bokho. Gu Seo-jin swiftly changed topics. No need to push a doomed man off the cliff. Better avoid karma.
"Ami Sect's mobilizing."
"Money flow disrupted—they had to."
Ami had no pretext; Bokho hadn't requested aid. But the crisis was dire. Bokho faced ruin, Ami its funding choked. Delaying for justification risked irreversible disaster.
"If as you say, Bokho's doomed too. Isn't this blowing up too big?"
"Perfect timing for our growth."
A Paewang would've swiftly crushed Bokho or Hwajeong—no dragging. Too busy with great evils; wasting time on vermin was folly.