Chapter 130
Chapter 130
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 130
Chapter Title: Making a Living Is More Important Than Martial Arts
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Martial arts are less important than making a living.
‘Gasp!’
Mu Hyang let out an inward groan.
A sword hung on her back, and she was dressed in martial robes—indistinguishable from any wandering ronin on the surface. And yet, Ak Muyoo had singled her out.
‘No, he’s just pointing her out at random. There’s no way he knows.’
Mu Hyang shot Ak Muyoo a look that said, *What are you talking about?*
“You, the white-haired geezer there.”
Ak Muyoo called out to the elderly man with white hair sitting at the counter. The old man looked his way.
“If that woman tries to run, smash her with one blow. Don’t hold back even if she dies.”
Mu Hyang’s face hardened like stone in an instant. Ak Muyoo, who had been watching her quietly, turned his gaze to Myo Yo.
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know who she is. But I know the group she belongs to.”
“Where?”
“Life-Death Society.”
“……Are you running an intelligence network or something?”
“Five guys came to kill me before. One had a sharp awl engraved with a bluish thunderbolt pattern, and another wielded one that was dark red with ‘Vajra’ inscribed on it.”
“Thunder Punishment Awl and Vajra Awl. Weapons of Life-Death Society’s top assassin Gong Yeol and first-class assassin Mu Ja.”
Myo Yo murmured like she was groaning.
“Do you know anything about an awl about three feet long, shaped like a spike with demon faces engraved on the surface? It looks similar to the Thunder Punishment or Vajra Awls, but it’s studded with barely visible needles.”
“It’s called the Heaven Killing Awl.”
“Who owns that weapon?”
“The world’s greatest assassin, Hidden Death.”
“The world’s greatest?”
“Yeah. They say he was the strongest among assassins.”
“You’re talking in past tense, so he’s not active anymore?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Just wondering. Anyway...”
Ak Muyoo looked at Ha Mi, who was seated across from him.
“That’s a nice sword, huh?”
He pointed to the sword hanging at Ha Mi’s waist.
“It’s incredibly good.”
“If I asked to borrow it, you wouldn’t give it up, right?”
“Sure I would.”
Ha Mi immediately unfastened her sword and held out the sheathed blade. Her sword was narrow and slightly longer than a standard one. It resembled a Japanese blade more than a Central Plains sword.
“That’s an unusual sword.”
“It’s a katana.”
“Could it be...”
“I’m from the Eastern Ocean.”
“I see.”
Ak Muyoo nodded.
“What do you plan to do with it?”
“Torture that assassin a bit.”
He pointed at Mu Hyang.
“Torture?”
“Yeah.”
“You have to catch her first to torture her.”
“That’s why I’m borrowing this.”
Ak Muyoo indicated the katana.
“But that woman seems stronger than you.”
“The strong don’t always win in sparring matches. In a real fight, no one knows who’ll come out on top.”
Ak Muyoo stood before Mu Hyang.
She stared straight at him.
“I hear assassins scout their targets thoroughly before a job. That true?”
“True.”
“So you know about me too?”
“Not your personal history, but your current condition, yes.”
“Then you know I haven’t learned martial arts.”
“I do.”
“To be precise, it’s not that I haven’t learned them—it’s that I can’t.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Having a dantian and not having one are different.”
“So...”
“We’re going to make a bet from now on. If you kill me, no one here will stop you from leaving. In other words, you complete your contract. Of course, Ara would be left, but you could take her out eventually too. But if I win, you become my servant until we reach Beijing, and you spill everything in your head.”
“Any room for choice?”
Mu Hyang asked.
“Nope. If you don’t bet, the white-haired geezer behind you smashes your skull.”
“Do you know what my nickname was before I became a Life-Death Society chief manager?”
Mu Hyang rose from her seat and stood before Ak Muyoo.
“Don’t care.”
“I was Hidden Shadow, called one of the Central Plains’ Two Great Assassins alongside Hidden Death.”
“……I’m really glad we’re making this bet.”
Ak Muyoo grinned widely.
“And before that, I was known as Death Flower.”
“Whoa!”
Jeon Ma and the others groaned in shock.
Central Plains’ Number One Quick Sword, Death Flower.
It was a name that had circulated in the martial world fifteen years ago. Countless swordsmen who boasted of their swift blades had ended up lying cold on the ground under Death Flower’s sword. She appeared in the martial world, claimed the title of Central Plains’ swiftest sword in just three years, and then vanished.
To think that woman had been Hidden Shadow, one of the Central Plains’ Two Great Assassins.
“Well, with skills like that, it makes sense she’d be one of the two greats.”
Jeon Ma nodded.
“But...”
Jeon Ma’s gaze shifted to Ak Muyoo. He couldn’t fathom what Ak Muyoo was thinking, picking a fight like this—a fight to the death, no less.
The distance between them was half a zhang.
Close enough for a drawn sword to pierce the throat or heart in one thrust.
The two stared at each other and assumed stances. They hunched their upper bodies low and stepped forward with their left feet. But their gazes differed: Mu Hyang’s eyes fixed on Ak Muyoo’s arms, while his locked onto her left foot.
Gulp!
Someone watching swallowed hard.
The fight had erupted so suddenly there was no time to stop it. Now, they could only watch, even if blood was spilled.
‘Who’ll strike first?’
Myo Yo wondered inwardly.
Bang!
The inn door flew open then, a gust of wind pouring in.
That was when the two moved.
Mu Hyang and Ak Muyoo drew their weapons almost simultaneously.
‘Hidden Shadow’s faster!’
Myo Yo cried out in her mind.
She was right. Hidden Shadow’s weapon thrust toward Ak Muyoo’s heart at terrifying speed. Her weapon wasn’t a sword but a long awl.
Ak Muyoo dipped his stance slightly at that moment.
‘Huh?’
Myo Yo’s eyes widened.
‘My god.’
Only then did she realize Ak Muyoo’s intent.
Stab!
Mu Hyang’s weapon pierced above Ak Muyoo’s heart. Having landed her strike, she swiftly withdrew. But Ak Muyoo was faster. He grabbed her hand—the one holding the weapon—with his left and yanked. The awl that had pierced his body sank deeper, closing the distance between them. Ak Muyoo pressed the katana’s edge to Mu Hyang’s throat.
“I win.”
Ak Muyoo smirked.
“Crazy bastard!”
Jeon Ma and the other four shot to their feet. They were stunned to the point of fainting.
“What about the bet?”
Ak Muyoo asked, katana still at Mu Hyang’s throat.
“What if I say nothing?”
“Then I slice with the katana. It’ll be painless. That I can promise.”
“……I’ll talk.”
“Good choice.”
Ak Muyoo sheathed the katana.
Thwack!
Mu Hyang struck Ak Muyoo’s shoulder and pulled out the awl.
“Urk!”
Only then did Ak Muyoo groan and drop to one knee.
“Muyoo.”
The one who had opened the inn door, allowing the fight, was Ara. She rushed to him and supported him.
“Ara, this robe must be defective. It got right through.”
“You idiot. Blocking a blade is one thing—how do you block a weapon laced with qi?”
“I blocked Adalta’s saber before.”
“A saber’s force spreads out, but an awl’s concentrates. Of course it’d pierce. Take it off.”
“Not with everyone watching.”
“Just show the wound!”
“Fine.”
Ak Muyoo pulled open the top of his robe, exposing his shoulder. Blood streamed from it.
“You planning to turn your body into Swiss cheese from now on?”
“Better than dying.”
“Yeah, but why...”
Ara’s voice caught.
As a martial artist, Ak Muyoo would face situations like this endlessly. Each time, he’d offer up a non-vital part of his body—stabbed or slashed—and claim victory. Someday, it might cost him an arm or leg.
“It’ll heal in three days, so don’t worry.”
It wasn’t a lie. Ak Muyoo didn’t fully understand it himself. At some point, his wounds had started healing faster. Maybe he’d unknowingly mastered some legendary immortal art from the legends.
“You idiot.”
Ara pulled a golden sore medicine from her pouch.
“Use this.”
Myo Yo tossed over something wrapped in oiled paper.
Ara looked at Myo Yo.
“It’s medicine worthy of a supreme commander.”
“Thanks.”
Ara thanked her and applied it to Ak Muyoo’s wound. Bubbles frothed up from the injury as she did. She bandaged it with cloth afterward.
Ak Muyoo slowly moved his left arm.
“Don’t move it.”
“I’m fine. I could probably shoot a bow.”
Ak Muyoo looked at Mu Hyang.
She sat there in a daze. Clearly, she couldn’t believe her defeat.
“Most top martial artists don’t become assassins, right?”
Ak Muyoo asked.
“I never said I was a top martial artist.”
“Weren’t you the Central Plains’ Number One Quick Sword?”
“I was.”
“So that makes you top-tier, doesn’t it?”
“Depends on perspective.”
“How so?”
“Some are all fame and no substance—like shiny husks on wild cherries. Others live well without much fame.”
“So it’s about making a living?”
“Exactly. My fame pierced the heavens, but no sect would take me. The funny part? Being the Central Plains’ swiftest sword became a barrier to employment.”
“They must’ve assumed an incredible beauty with that level of skill would be too hard to handle.”
“Pfft!”
“What?”
“Because of the ‘incredible beauty’ part.”
“Embarrassed?”
“Yeah.”
“Better than being called ugly, right?”
“……”
“It’s a stock greeting.”
“So...”
“With women, I always go with: ‘What a beauty. Your husband must have incredible taste. What do you eat to become such a stunning woman? Must be natural.’”
“Flirt?”
“Occupational hazard.”
“What’s that?”
“Assassins who think of kill methods first upon seeing someone.”
“So you...”
“I was a merchant for a ridiculously long time.”
“Pfft!”
Mu Hyang chuckled.
“So you became an assassin for the money.”
“Right.”
Mu Hyang nodded.
“Anyway, you quit well.”
“Why?”
“Staying there meant dying in days. What else?”
“Don’t underestimate the Life-Death Society.”
“You know I’m in no position to look down on anyone.”
Ak Muyoo walked to the papered window facing the woods and flung it wide open. A clear, cold gleam poured from his eyes as he stared into the forest—like a beast hunting prey at midnight.
It was the savage eye of a wild animal, wild eyes.