Scouring the Legends of Dongho
"This many?"
"Yes."
Wang Po, the cloth merchant, was practically glowing. Ak-hyeon was such a tiny village that his sales barely ever rose or fell—yet today the god of wealth himself had walked through his door. Thirty full sets of clothing. And at dawn, no less, when even passersby were scarce. He had sold not only his newest stock but every last piece of dead inventory he had been stuck with for months. And the payment had been handed over on the spot.
"Thank you, my lord!"
What did it matter that the customer looked young? The customer was king. Wang Po bent nearly double with astonishing flexibility, his forehead almost scraping the floorboards.
"In return, keep this quiet."
"Pardon?"
"It's a small village. I dislike unnecessary trouble."
"Of course, of course. Naturally."
A secret? There was no need to wonder why. When a customer—especially one who might as well have been the god of wealth—made a request, you simply obliged.
"That will be all, then."
"Yes! Safe travels!"
As the young customer left with a great cloth bundle of thirty outfits, Wang Po and even his wife stepped out of the shop to bow again.
"Who on earth was that?"
"How should I know?"
"His clothes looked awfully fine…"
"Honestly, woman. Didn't you notice? That terrifying martial artist standing right beside him?"
"Of course I did. Even standing next to him I got goosebumps like winter had arrived."
"Exactly. Anyone who keeps a bodyguard like that has to be the young master of some famous unorthodox clan, come to Dongho for leisure."
"Ah, I see."
"And you know what that means?"
"What?"
"Don't you know how those unorthodox types are? One wrong word and people like us vanish without a trace—no rat or bird ever finds the body."
"…"
"So keep a tight leash on the village wives. No idle gossip. Understood?"
"Yes."
Wang Po put on a stern face as he delivered the warning.
The customers had, of course, been Jegal Mun-Hyeon and Mujin. The reason they had bought thirty sets of clothes at the cloth shop was Ya-cho and his subordinates. They themselves might not care, but if men who were already on bad terms with the Black Cat Faction went tramping all over Dongho and caught the eyes of other unorthodox martial artists, things could get ugly fast.
He could have told them to disguise themselves on their own—but what money did beggars in their miserable state have? And as a rebel band constantly on the run from enemies, they wouldn't even have been able to beg properly.
So he had spent freely for the sake of the goal.
Heh. Cleaning out that sewer was pretty profitable.
Truly, a person ought to do good deeds. He had emptied the sewer, rescued the kidnapped people, pocketed a modest reward, and look how useful it had become.
"But is it really all right to just buy them like this? Some of them won't fit ready-made clothes."
Mujin hoisted the great bundle higher on his shoulder as he spoke.
What a "Fortune's Path Illuminates Me" sort of Taoist this guy was! Did he expect tailored robes for beggars? Beggars wore whatever they could get.
"Hurry up. They're waiting."
"…Yes."
Mujin asked nothing more. What the action was for, what they were searching for at Dongho… He had reached the point where if Jegal Mun-Hyeon claimed soybeans made red-bean paste, he would believe it. Whatever Mun-Hyeon did, Mujin would remain at his side. After all, the only person who could help him resolve the demonic energy sealed inside his body was him. Without him, the life that the Mad Soul Art left behind by that evil monster Baek Kang-Hwi would have swallowed him whole, and he would have died after bringing disaster upon his sect.
Wherever he went, Mujin would follow. Whatever he ordered, Mujin would do. Even if the path looked wrong, there was surely a greater purpose woven into it…
"What are you dawdling for?"
"Huh?"
"Honestly, you're so slow… Get over here!"
"Yes!"
With the enormous bundle on his back, Mujin broke into a bright smile and trotted after Jegal Mun-Hyeon into a deserted stretch of forest—privately thinking that the young master's personality was a bit sharp around the edges.
A group of people had gathered in the woods near Dongho, out of sight of prying eyes. Ya-cho and his subordinates. Having shed their rags and changed into the new clothes, they no longer looked like beggars from a distance. Some had become fishermen casting lines for the leisure of it, others actual fishermen hauling nets, and still others carefree sightseers out for a stroll.
And yet—
"What?"
Ya-cho could only stare in disbelief. The thirty-odd subordinates around him almost certainly felt the same. He understood that they were to comb Dongho in search of something. But…
"Here. This is the place where a flute is said to be heard every night."
"…"
A stretch of still water. Legend claimed that the mournful notes of a jade flute drifted from the lakeshore, and that some who heard it had been so overcome with sorrow they leapt into the lake…
"And here, people have witnessed a blue-green fire sinking into the water in the dead of night."
"…"
Will-o'-the-wisps this time. On nights when the full moon hung bright over Dongho, a single blue flame was said to drift across the surface. Those who followed it never returned…
"And here…"
As Jegal Mun-Hyeon unfolded a map of Dongho and continued his explanations, every face wore the same expression. Folktales passed down among the common folk. As disciples of the Beggar Sect who had wandered every corner of the land, how many times had they heard such absurd nonsense? And now they were supposed to chase empty legends…
This was pure madness. To think their debt of gratitude would be repaid with madness like this. And that they would even put on new clothes for the sake of that madness. A strange sense of self-pity crept in.
"Hey! You lot! Pay attention!"
Seeing their focus slackening, Ya-cho barked and whipped his subordinates back into line.
"Our benefactor says there is something we must find, does he not? Open your ears and concentrate!"
"Yes."
At Ya-cho's words, Jegal Mun-Hyeon unclenched the fist he had been squeezing. He had almost started hitting people. Here he was explaining everything with the utmost sincerity…
"In any case, there are ten places that need examining."
"Yes."
"I know. Folk legends. Wild stories people dismiss as nonsense. Even so, examine them carefully. See whether anything seems strange at each site, and whether there are signs that someone once lived—or still lives—nearby."
"Understood."
"But if you find anything, do not approach it rashly. Report to me at once. Under no circumstances are you to go near it first."
Jegal Mun-Hyeon repeated the warning again and again. For all he knew, the dwelling of a true immortal—or rather, a Half-Immortal—might actually be somewhere on Dongho. If they blundered into such beings, there was no telling what might happen.
"You all heard our benefactor clearly?"
"Yes!"
"As I said, our benefactor has promised to build a bridge between Yungjung Mountain and the new Beggar Sect that Senior Brother Ja-gwi—no, Beggar Sect Leader Ja-gwi—has established."
At those words the Beggar Sect disciples' loosened tension snapped taut again. Every one of them had dreamed vaguely of that day.
"It may seem absurd, but remember that our future hangs on this. This is the first step toward becoming once more the Beggar Sect that once stood high in the name of chivalry—not lives that drift like duckweed and wither like wildflowers."
"Yes, Martial Uncle!"
"Good. Ten sites in total. Form teams of three and begin the search. If anyone's eyes fall on you, behave naturally. Understood?"
"Haha! Martial Uncle, who do you think we are? We've spent years blending into ordinary households just to stay out of the Black Cat Faction's sight. Don't worry."
Ya-cho nodded in satisfaction at his men's reply.
"Then scatter. Even the smallest detail must not be overlooked. Send any signals through the silent whistle."
"Yes!"
The Beggar Sect disciples fanned out around Dongho. Reliable. As expected, the more people you put to work, the easier life became.
"Young Master, will you return to the inn?"
"Why?"
"This is a search that must avoid other eyes, so it will likely take considerable time. If you rest at the inn, I will inform you the moment anything arises."
"Hmm…"
Jegal Mun-Hyeon considered for a moment, then shook his head. Sealing oneself in a room, receiving reports from every direction, and spinning schemes was the Jegal family's specialty—but he was different. He needed to be on the ground. Only then could he respond quickly if something went wrong. More than that, what the Beggar Sect was hunting was no ordinary thing. It was a Half-Immortal—a being beyond the human. One who had already formed a spirit body. One who had transcended the secular world and broken free of the five desires and seven emotions. Creatures like that were dangerous beyond measure.
"I'll search as well."
"There is no need for our benefactor to trouble himself personally…"
Ya-cho looked troubled, but Jegal Mun-Hyeon's will was firm. How many long years had he waited…
"Don't worry about me. Just give the search everything you have."
"Understood."
Soon Ya-cho too vanished from sight. Only Jegal Mun-Hyeon and Mujin remained in the forest. As they walked at a leisurely pace, Mujin turned to him with a face full of curiosity.
"What exactly are you searching for at Dongho?"
"Hmm."
"Ah, you don't have to tell me if you don't wish to. I was just a little curious. The way you listen so carefully to common legends and all…"
Having said it, he scratched his head as if embarrassed. Of course he was curious. Mun-Hyeon had never told him a word about any of this. It was time to speak. Everything had begun in Hyeoncheonja's hidden cave…
"You know about the Heavenly Demon, Baek Kang-Hwi, don't you?"
"That evil monster!"
The instant the name left his mouth, Mujin flared with murderous energy and twisted his face. Mun-Hyeon understood. Mujin believed the Heavenly Demon was the reason he himself had fallen to demonic nature. But still—saying that right in front of the person in question? Even if he didn't know, that was a bit much.
"Mujin."
"Yes!"
"Calm down."
"Ah, forgive me. Just thinking of that evil monster makes my blood boil…"
In front of the man himself. He couldn't even say it… And that man is your master, you idiot! You don't even realize the Mad Soul Art is what made you strong.
"Anyway, in his later years he came to Wudang intending to ascend."
"Mm. I've heard that story. The whole martial world was in an uproar, wasn't it? But isn't that also just wild nonsense? The disciples of my sect train and practice alchemy for the sake of ascension, but whether immortals even truly exist is murky at best."
Oh, this kid was committing ancestor-slander with real thoroughness. And then he had the nerve to call him an evil monster—while looking every inch an unorthodox martial artist himself.
"In any case, when I entered Hyeoncheonja's hidden cave, I learned that methods of ascension truly exist."
"What? Th-they exist?"
"Yes. He said he had met a Half-Immortal."
"H-how could that… Then why didn't you say anything?"
"Because, as you put it, it sounds like wild nonsense."
"Ah…"
"And Hyeoncheonja's final wish was that only those who entered the cave should know."
"I see. Then is the method of ascension somewhere on Dongho?"
"It might be. Or perhaps a Half-Immortal itself is there."
"A Half-Immortal?"
"Yes."
"…Even if it comes from the records of our founding ancestor, it's hard to accept. That an ascension method exists, or that Half-Immortals do."
"I understand. It's only natural."
"Then why are you trying to find it?"
"That is…"
Because he wanted to ascend. Because it was the dream he had never fulfilled. Because he had once been called the strongest in the human world, and now he wanted to go to the immortal realm and find out whether those so-called immortals were truly anything special—by fighting them. And beyond that, because he intended to tear apart every last Half-Immortal who had passed him the Annihilation Art and reborn him instead of letting him ascend.
But he could not say any of that straight out. The man who had once been admired and revered would only sound like a madman.
"…Because the connection came to me. The one that began with Hyeoncheonja."
"I see."
"So you too should think of the Heavenly Demon's Mad Soul Art as a connection that came to you, whether you wanted it or not, and accept it as—"
He could not finish the rest. The boy… If he didn't want to, fine, but why all that murderous energy?