Bang So-un Always Has a Way
"Name."
"Yangdae, sir."
"Where are you from?"
"From Changgang."
"A local from the main island, then. Are you a martial artist?"
"Heh heh, no, sir. I greatly admire Haenam Sect's heroic figures, but I'm just a humble fisherman who catches meat for a living."
"Everyone has their own calling—no need to admire mine."
"Oh, what are you saying? With Haenam Sect's heroes standing firm on Haenam Island, no wicked scum dare run wild here."
"Hmph, I'm grateful you understand."
"Heh heh, no need."
"What's the purpose of your visit?"
"To witness the heroic bearing of the senior disciple and his world-shaking martial prowess firsthand, of course."
Truly, as a local, his bootlicking skills were no joke. Even the Haenam Sect disciple didn't seem to hate the praise. Well, who dislikes pleasant words?
"You've come to the right place. Finally, let me check your identity token."
"Huh? Identity token? I usually leave it at home... and this time too..."
Yangdae scratched the back of his head, looking troubled. The Haenam Sect disciple's face grew complicated. By the rules, he should be turned away right there. But sending back a local from the main island felt off.
"Hmph, no token means we can't..."
The disciple pondered. Yangdae feigned acceptance while subtly casting pitiful eyes.
"Oh, is that so? Aigoo, then no choice. I came a long way, but I'll have to head back empty-handed. It's my fault for forgetting, so I'll blame myself..."
Did it work? Another disciple behind him chimed in.
"He's a local—let him in."
"Huh? Is that okay?"
"What's the harm? Fellow islander and all. So, what fish are plentiful in Changgang?"
"Pardon? Fish in Changgang? It's a dry river—no fish live there. Gotta go to the sea for that."
"Never mind. Just testing. Go on in."
"Heh heh, thank you. I won't forget this grace, Haenam Sect heroes."
Yangdae bowed repeatedly as he slipped through the mountain gate.
"...That slimy bastard, fishing for info right there?"
Hiding behind a great tree above the gate, Yangdae peeked down and patted his chest in relief. They'd let him in as a local but tossed a verification bait just in case. One wrong bite, and he'd have been booted. Good thing he'd crammed Haenam Island trivia until it stuck.
"Heh heh, all good anyway. Can't miss a matchup this huge."
Yangdae grinned contentedly. He was one of the murim's many hosaga—story peddlers who lived off gossip. The juicier the tale, the fatter the coin. That's why hosaga trekked a thousand li for good yarns. A duel like this? No need to explain.
Haenam Sect's mysterious senior disciple, shrouded in secrecy with minimal outside activity. Famed as a top young expert, yet his skills and strength remained unknown—Sword Seal. Their duel? Jackpot. A marriage duel? Double jackpot. That explained why every hosaga who heard was circling like vultures.
The problem? 'That damn first-come-first-served.'
No sect fills spectator slots solely with hosaga. They have quotas; exceed it, and you're out. Useless otherwise. Worse, pre-approved hosaga already claimed spots—mostly from allied sects. They spin tales from the host's side, flattering as needed. Sects prefer them for the ass-kissing promo. Old-school hosaga like Yangdae hated them, but had to admit: it was skill.
Thus, remaining spots were needle-eye fierce. Tough times for hosaga scraping by. So Yangdae hid his trade, pulling a ruse. No fake token either—too pricey for a small-timer like him, and crude fakes wouldn't fool a major sect like Haenam. Better to play innocent bumpkin fisherman. It worked.
"Heh heh, nice, nice."
This would line his pockets thick. Any hosaga would think the same.
Just then, commotion stirred at the gate.
"Hm? What's that?"
Hosaga instinct tingled. Smelled like sellable scoop. Yangdae crept closer.
"All together?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"Six."
"State your name first."
"Bang So-un."
A name he'd never heard.
"Where from?"
"Hangzhou."
These vague types were the worst. Did they own all of Hangzhou or what?
"Hangzhou where?"
"Golden Dragon Escort Agency."
"Golden Dragon?"
The disciple's face shifted. The world's most famous escort agency—and Hangzhou was their HQ.
'Golden Dragon... heard it somewhere lately...'
The disciple tilted his head. Recalled seniors mentioning it in hushed talks. Sounded secretive; he'd let it pass. Probably money stuff.
"Martial artist?"
Escort agencies had few; most were non-martial help.
"Of course."
'Of course?'
One eyebrow twitched. Arrogant—implying he should be obvious.
Curious now. How big a name?
"What's your moniker?"
"Hangzhou's Prodigal Son."
"Pardon? Prodigal Son?"
The disciple's face hardened. Felt like a prank. Who uses "Prodigal Son" proudly? Absurd.
Wrong place for nonsense. This was Haenam.
"Warning you. Turn back now..."
"Oh dear. Guess my moniker lacks fame on Haenam Island. How about this: Lightning-Rise Live-in Son-in-Law."
"You keep babbling nonsense... Huh?"
The disciple's eyes widened, recalling something. Golden Dragon's lightning-rise son-in-law—every martial artist knew it. A nobody snags a top beauty wife, skyrockets. Pure tabloid gold, especially with her being Jiangnan's number one stunner.
"Y-you're... no way, you're...?"
"That's right. I'm the Golden Dragon Leader."
Bang So-un smiled leisurely. A different disciple shot up—not the talker, but the senior one who'd okayed Yangdae. As gate lead, he'd heard shipboard intel on Sword Seal and Golden Dragon Leader.
Haenam seniors trashed him, of course. Blamed him for escalating a pointless spat with Haesabang, nearly getting them killed. Called him needlessly cruel, arrogant—said Sword Seal saved their asses, or they'd be done.
Stories twist by teller. Foes paint heroes as trash. Haenam bros felt slighted, so no kind words.
'Went to southern Mannyeong, now here? Planned it?'
The lead disciple's mind raced. Seniors warned: if Golden Dragon shows, politely send off.
"We've heard much of Golden Dragon Leader's fame. An honor to meet you."
He clasped hands formally.
"The honor's mine, visiting famed Haenam Sect."
Courteous chit-chat followed. But the lead cut short—dragging it helped nothing.
"Regrettable to say to a guest from afar, but we must."
"Hm? What?"
"Sect Leader stressed: no more than a hundred martial artists. We're already at capacity. That's why we kept asking."
Easy excuse. Send 'em packing, done.
"Ah, is that so."
Bang So-un's expression turned odd. Sharp as he was, he clocked it: grudge from the ship. Their side nearly died over his antics; reported straight up. Haenam brass irked, now subtle payback via quota rejection. "Watch yourself next time." Classy, not overt—befitting a major sect.
But he wouldn't back down easy. He had one more card.
'Sword Seal came alone. No observer.'
Standard: name observers for duels—trusted notables for fairness checks. Sword Seal, unpredictable, brought none.
'Play that, maybe.'
She might hate it. Normals would. But Sword Seal wasn't normal.
Bang So-un's gut said it'd hook her interest instead.
"Seems you're mistaken."
He'd decided.
"Mistaken? What do you...?"
"I'm here as Sword Seal Senior Yu's designated observer."
Bang So-un grinned.
"Ob-observer?!"
The lead disciple's shocked eyes bulged.