The Fall of the Myriad-Volumes Scholar
Joo Young-seo was a retired scholar, renowned as the Myriad-Volumes Scholar for his vast learning and broad experiences. In his youth, he must have dreamed of glory, aspiring to serve at the emperor's side. Even after failing the civil service exam, he might have clung to those ambitions for a time. But two decades later, at the age of forty-four, Joo Young-seo had become nothing more than a pathetic, brutish wretch.
"You bitch! If the guest calls for you, you come running—where do you get off acting all prim and proper, you whore?"
"I'm sorry, my lord. But...!"
The young courtesan, still with a hint of innocence about her, waved her hands in refusal. This was a qinglou, a refined establishment for poetry, books, and paintings—not some cheap brothel selling flesh. It demanded elegance and strict decorum. Yet Joo Young-seo was causing a scene.
Slap!
"Kyaa!"
"How dare you talk back? Serving the Myriad-Volumes Scholar is an honor for a slut like you! Should I call in my fellow heroes?"
"Sucheong" was a term reserved for officials. He still deluded himself that he was one, deserving respect and deference. For a high official to bed a mere courtesan was a grace, a blessing. That's why Joo Young-seo grabbed the girl's hair, wrestling with her and bellowing obscenities. And yet, no one stepped in to help the poor girl. Because, as he had boasted, he had once been an investigator for the Murim Alliance—someone under powerful protection.
"Heh heh heh, that's right. Come here. I'll dote on you plenty tonight..."
In the brothel's late hours, cries echoed. Then screams. Only after the most heartbreaking, unspeakable sobs did Joo Young-seo emerge from the inn, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"Hoo."
His fat voice shattered the winter silence. It was the third watch of the night. The streets were dark.
"Hoo... Why can't I... see shit tonight? Damn it all."
Seongdo's nights were always cloaked in thick fog, white clouds from the Sichuan Basin blanketing vision. Tonight, though, the fog felt ominous to Joo Young-seo, despite the satisfying time he'd just had. Should he head back to the brothel and party till dawn? No, even that felt off. The girl's pitiful weeping had soured his mood. Another brothel? Unfortunately, no—money was tight.
"Goddamn it, speaking of which... I need to hit up Lord Sima tomorrow..."
His pudgy fingers rummaged through his pouch, but his wild spending had emptied it. Best to hurry home. Waddling along.
These Seongdo alleys he'd traversed hundreds of times held no fear. Few in the city didn't know him, especially among the black path folk. Everyone knew the Murim Alliance backed him. As long as he didn't piss off the higher-ups, this was his little fiefdom. No one dared challenge him. Just like that courtesan.
"Heh heh heh..."
The thought stirred his loins again. What face would that bitch make if he visited tomorrow? Lost in such musings, he reached his house.
"..."
Suddenly, goosebumps prickled his skin. For no reason.
"W-what the hell?"
Danger raced up his spine. No traces, no sounds—yet his nerves screamed like they were glitching. Joo Young-seo had survived murim's cutthroat world till forty-four on instinct alone. He knew to heed it. Fumbling the lock open, he rushed inside his fine manor on Seongdo's outskirts. Servants and maids slept soundly. He didn't care about their opinions. He opened his mouth to shout, to banish this chilling sensation—and failed.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
A strong hand clamped his mouth. When? How? He didn't know. It felt like mere shadow. Even now. His bulging eyes betrayed raw panic and terror.
Then a deep voice rumbled.
"Myriad-Volumes Scholar Joo Young-seo."
"Mmmph! Mmmph!"
"Myriad-Volumes Scholar... that's you, right? Yes."
Instinctual dread. His body spun around. Mouth still gagged. Only then did he see the intruder's face clearly. A young expert, half-hidden by long, disheveled hair. No recognition. A stranger. He'd heard no rumors of anyone like this. The real murim elites were at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering. Minor sect trash would've been slaughtered by the Demon-Extermination Squad.
Analysis flashed instinctively. Meanwhile, the man asked in a low, quiet voice, pinning him to the wall in an instant.
"I'm going to say a few words now. Listen carefully."
"Mmph?!"
What the hell? Wasn't this a negotiation? One word, and he could've name-dropped the Murim Alliance. But the man began murmuring words.
"Demonic Cult. Murim Alliance. Elder Council. Dragon-Phoenix Gathering. Sacheon Dang Clan. Wiji Clan..."
A string of meaningless words. Carelessly listed opposites. Yet Joo Young-seo's brain scrambled to parse it. Demonic Cult and Alliance. Wiji Clan and Sacheon Dang Clan. Even the incident he'd fabricated—a whole clan massacred at the behest of someone too lofty to meet. The Wiji Clan's annihilation. Pieces clicked. This man was tied to the Wiji Clan. But not from it. Someone above. A young expert, terrifyingly strong. Demonic Cult? No, not their style... Then what? What incident? His eyes darted unconsciously, old wits churning solo.
How many fabricated events lately? What had caught his idle interest? The White Mountain Bloodbath, the Ancient Tomb Incident, and...
"Demon-Extermination Squad."
The Demon-Extermination Blood Tribulation...
Their eyes met. Instinct screamed. This man was deeply involved. And Joo Young-seo realized: he stood at a crossroads. Up to now, he could live. Just testing the waters. But his reactions? Where had his eyes flicked? Gestures? Unconscious signals? Could he play dumb? Would it work? Bullshit. As a former investigator, he knew better.
"Ah..."
Slipping free, his mouth was ungagged. But he stared vacantly. Crushing killing intent froze his tongue. He could only beg inwardly. No. Don't say it. Please, I know nothing. Asking me's useless.
But.
"Cheon Family Manor."
"......"
"Cheon Sohyang."
"......"
"You know something."
Joo Young-seo closed his eyes. Those two names sealed his doom. No way out now. Why? He didn't know. Just a gut feeling.
Confirming the reaction, the man effortlessly hoisted the fat body over his shoulder and vanished into the darkness.
"Mmmph! Mmmph!"
Joo Young-seo's desperate thrashing faded into Seongdo's thick fog. As if nothing had happened.
Two days later. Dangga Tower. The Sacheon Dang Clan had convened a family head meeting.
Murim Alliance's Seongdo branch chief strategist Sima Sim requested the Dang Clan's aid once more in the Alliance's theft case. It was official, so the pretext was solid. Tracking the culprit required the Dang Clan's medical and miscellaneous experts.
"...And so, it seems they'll keep hounding us. We should send someone."
"Dispatching manpower is tricky. It could look like we're backing Sima or Namgung—or both."
The situation was tangled. Power struggles raged in the Murim Alliance. New factions exploited the Demonic Cult unrest to rise, clashing with old powers unwilling to yield. Sima Clan versus Namgung Clan. The righteous sects split, mired in filthy infighting. The Sacheon Dang Clan wanted distance.
Thus, current patriarch Cheon Dok-pae-hyeop Dang Ui-hyo, after deep thought, chose an irrefutable pretext.
"We counter pretext with pretext."
"Meaning?"
"The Dang Clan Three Precepts."
Family laws were ironclad. The Sacheon Dang Clan strictly followed the three rules set by their founder.
"Does this involve a benefactor of the Sacheon Dang Clan?"
"No."
"An enemy of the Sacheon Dang Clan, then?"
"Hardly."
"Is an innocent being oppressed?"
"Not that either."
"Then the Dang Clan acts not. Relay that."
"Understood!"
Meanwhile, at the exact hour of the patriarch meeting, Dang So-young puffed her cheeks, brush to her lips. Book open, but her mind wandered to Seongdo. The man who'd instantly seen through the Wiji Clan incident not being Demonic Cult work. A mysterious expert chasing murim's hidden truths. How to meet him again?
"That... guy... he looked kinda wronged... innocent too..."
Searching for something. A case? Truth? Martial arts? Or even human?
Dang So-young suddenly recalled the family rule she loathed.
Dang Clan Three Precepts.
"G-gotta sneak out again. Dad always stresses righteous intent anyway. This is totally justified heroism. Yeah, no doubt..."
The pitiful girl's resolve was already desperate.