Pretending to Be Murim Folk Will Get You Killed
A mid-sized merchant ship bound for Haenam Island cut through the waves. Naturally, Bang So-un and his group were aboard. Their quarters were, of course, the spacious first-class cabin. Inside that lavish room, the amiable master and servant lay side by side, stark naked and prone. What were they up to? It was obvious at a glance. Women tended to them diligently from behind, giving thorough massages.
Perhaps it was the privilege of the boss—Bang So-un had two at his back. The veils that had once shrouded their faces were gone. They were utterly nude, after all. Breasts and pussy lips rubbed brazenly against him, their lewd bodies devoted to pleasuring their master without restraint. Yet they still delivered expert massages that satisfied him completely. The pressure was perfect. These were peak female experts, after all.
Broken Heart Heroine Yeon Su-rin. Solitary Demon Wolf Gal Sahyeon. Moon-Cutting Blade Ju Ok-yeong. Those were their identities. To target a peak female expert, they'd brought every available peak-level asset as a precaution, along with Ju Ok-yeong—the top tier among their first-rate forces. Eun Hwa-yeong had been left behind; she couldn't be away from her post too long. Haenam Island was a long voyage, after all.
"Heh heh, if the other bastards knew we were enjoying this killer luxury out on the open sea, they'd die of envy."
Jang Il spoke up, his face beaming with satisfaction.
"Haha, of course they would."
Bang So-un laughed too. But his smiling expression seemed somehow complicated. He had something on his mind.
Bang So-un changed the subject.
"Speaking of which, about Geom Bong."
"Ah, Geom Bong. Honestly, I was shocked. Never expected her to pop up like that. And a top-grade item, no less."
Top-grade item. It was rare for such words to come from Jang Il's mouth. Few women met his exacting standards, forged by a craftsman's pride in that arena. In fact, only twice so far. The foremost beauty of Jiangnan, Hwang Bo-seol and the Red-Eyed Fox Eun Hwa-yeong. Only those two peerless beauties had satisfied him. That's why Jang Il had offered those top-grade prizes to Bang So-un—his benefactor and supreme lord. One as principal wife, the other as de facto concubine. It was the ultimate expression of loyalty: only Bang So-un deserved to claim such exceptional women.
Even when Bang So-un insisted, "Your merits are immense; I'm happy to yield a few," Jang Il's ironclad devotion never wavered. It was loyalty that would make even the famed Zhuge Martial Marshal weep.
"Top-grade, huh. Yeah, I see it now."
Bang So-un nodded in agreement. He'd been unable to tear his eyes away, after all.
"Frankly, my first impression hit hard. Strong urge to make her mine."
For a man as dominantly possessive as Bang So-un, voicing such raw emotional impulse about one woman was rare. Until now, purpose always came first, emotions second. Hwang Bo-seol for wealth and foundation. Eun Hwa-yeong for intelligence. Un Jung-seon as a tool to acquire elixirs and poisons. Yang Yeon-hwi to gain an erotic painter. Recruiting female martial artists for raw power. This trip too had a clear goal: testing the precise limits of Jang Il's abilities.
Their string of successes stemmed from Bang So-un—the leader—never letting base desires cloud his judgment, always prioritizing cold reason. Jang Il, who served him, acknowledged this fully. If it had been Jang Il alone, a slave to his lusts, he'd have groped women recklessly, gotten cornered by enemies, and been slaughtered long ago—without building any real base.
So for Bang So-un to voice that impulse aloud meant he'd been emotionally hooked by Geom Bong.
"Oh, that serious? Then seize her on this trip."
"No, that'd be reckless."
Even in that heated state, Bang So-un judged rationally. His innate cool-headedness was a true leader's trait.
"What? With poison, we could manage it somehow...."
Jang Il blinked. They'd just received the first batch from Go-eui. Go-eui's special San-gong Poison was proven effective even on super peak experts. Why not use the emergency stock for the job?
But Bang So-un shook his head coolly.
"No, still not good."
"Not good how...?"
"First, the situation and location suck. A ship has too many eyes and too little space to start something. Land on Haenam Island instead? No good. The Haenam Sect's already watching her. With that marriage duel on the line, they'll keep tabs on Geom Bong nonstop."
"Mm, you're right, young master...."
Jang Il nodded, convinced.
Bang So-un continued.
"Second—and this is just a hunch."
"What is it?"
"No openings. Never seen anyone so utterly seamless."
"Huh? She didn't seem that elite—kinda sloppy, even."
Jang Il's instincts differed. And he wasn't alone. Even the Haenam Sect escorts with Geom Bong felt the same: despite her fame, she seemed oddly amateurish. It wasn't illusion. Return Strike True Form—a stage where mastery makes one's aura as ordinary as a commoner's. Geom Bong had reached it, so their misperception was natural. They'd rarely encounter such experts in life.
Oddly, Bang So-un sensed otherwise. Perhaps it wasn't instinct, but superhuman intellect analyzing clues.
"Hm, you think? Hard to believe."
Bang So-un tilted his head—when the ship lurched to a sudden halt, pitching their bodies forward. The female experts braced them just in time, preventing a crash into the wall.
"What the fuck? Who's driving like an idiot?"
As Jang Il grumbled, Bang So-un raised a hand thoughtfully.
"A ship isn't a carriage. No reason for sudden stops."
"Huh?"
"Something's happened."
Bang So-un sounded certain.
"Everyone, dress quick. We're going out."
Sea Sand Gang. Grand name, but they were just pirates. Few true experts, but the sea's uniqueness let them carve a niche in murim. Martial arts and water skills were worlds apart. Even top martial masters became meals for water adepts once dumped overboard. That's why they strutted boldly in their oceanic domain.
"Heh heh, this prey looks juicy—plenty to gouge."
"Yeah, big numbers at a glance."
Among the Sea Sand Gang's nine leaders, Eighth Leader Swift Carp Po Dong-yeong grinned at his subordinate's words and nodded. By their rules—toll per head—crowded targets were prime feasts.
"Send the boys."
"Yes, Eighth Leader!"
Three speedboats swarmed Bang So-un's merchant ship like wolves. Po Dong-yeong watched leisurely from his bulky battle junk, smirking viciously.
"Now, now, everyone stay calm! No resistance, and we won't harm you! That's a promise! Just pay the toll and we'll leave. Prepare one silver tael each! Once more—no panic, just the toll...."
The captain bellowed to the passengers. His proactive stance calmed the first-timers' fears somewhat. Veterans just sighed at their bad luck, readying their taels.
But two were visibly rattled. Haenam Sect seniors—huddled in a deck corner, whispering urgently.
"Wh-what do we do, senior brother?"
Normally, reveal Haenam Sect ties, flash some teeth, and negotiate.
—We're respecting your turf, even though I'm Haenam.
—Oh yeah? Heard great things about Haenam. Respect back—toll at one-third.
Fancy talk, but that's the gist. Fellow sects save face, settle amicably. No need for blades unless pushing hard.
But not now. Geom Bong was with them—for the duel tied to her marriage with the grand senior disciple. Caving here? Even with face-saving, it'd look bad. Haenam outranked Sea Sand Gang outright. They yielded only due to sea turf.
And that turf was the problem. Couldn't go full aggressive.
"Tch, rotten timing."
The senior brother agonized. His junior watched with shaky eyes, awaiting wisdom.
And finally.
"...No choice. Let Geom Bong take point."
"Take point how?"
"Watch her move first, then decide."
"Ah... smart, senior brother."
The junior's eyes lit up. If she pays, they pay. If not, they don't. No loss of face.
"Yeah, that's the play."
...A perfect plan. So why.
'Fuck, where the hell's Geom Bong?!'
The senior brother cursed inwardly.
'Wh-where did Geom Bong gooooo?!'
His junior wailed silently.
"What? No toll?"
A Sea Sand pirate glared. The frozen Haenam escorts couldn't budge. As the pirate opened his mouth to curse—
"Huh? Wait. You guys...."
He'd spotted their emblem. His face shifted.
"Haha, fellow murim folk, eh?"
Baring teeth now. With Geom Bong missing, no options. Had to play along.
The senior brother sighed resignedly.
"Mm, heard plenty about Sea Sand Gang—matches the rumors...."
Then—
"Gaaahhh!"
A scream tore the air. Heads whipped around to see crimson blood spraying high.
Thud!
A Sea Sand pirate—or corpse now—toppled like rotten timber.
Senior and junior's eyes bulged. What the—?! Who the fuck draws steel on pirates at sea?!
The mood iced over instantly. Shattering the chill—a voice rang out.
"Know what I hate most? Bandit scum pretending to be murim folk and strutting around. Pirates too, of course. The gall."
Bang So-un's escort agency roots ignited his bandit loathing. Pirates got no mercy. Same vibe—preying on commoners while play-acting murim.
"Kill 'em all! Useless trash beyond redemption."
Bang So-un's bold command.
...Who the fuck is this lunatic?
Everyone thought it—when.
"Ho."
A soft woman's voice from somewhere. No one knew it was Geom Bong.
"Fuckin' hell, that mad bastard! Rip him to shreds now!"
Eyes wild, pirates charged Bang So-un's group with murderous intent. An unforeseen bloodbath erupted.