Looking for a Person
Looking for a person. Wang Gaeyuk, the leader of the Daejeong Sect and the First Saber of Hwangcheon, was a good man. The moment Cheong saw the mountain of snacks piled on the tea table, she knew it without needing to check his karma. And since he was genuinely maintaining good deeds, he had more than enough qualifications to stand as the leader of a righteous sect.
While Namgung Sinjae maintained a strangely polite distance and chatted here and there, Cheong simply ate. The local tea, with its slightly bitter aftertaste, came with a towering stack of yujo and two kinds of go. Yujo were fried dough pastries, one of Cheong’s absolute favorite snacks. They tasted exactly like the twisted doughnuts from her hometown. Of course they did—the recipe was identical.
Go was the general term for sweets that had been cooled and hardened. Some were sweet, some sweet-and-sour, and some even salty. Cheong did not tolerate going without food. She genuinely believed the only real advantage of this body was its absurdly large stomach capacity.
Come to think of it, her obsession with eating probably stemmed entirely from the suffering she’d endured after falling into this primitive, ancient China. It was like giving someone a disease and then handing them the cure. At any rate, she had filled her belly with snacks out of immediate necessity. Only then did she remember that the snacks hadn’t been the purpose of her visit.
“Ah, Sect Leader. Do you happen to know a man named Yi Ha-sam?”
“Yi Ha-sam? Yi Ha-sam…” Wang Gaeyuk stroked his chin. “Was there a disciple by that name…? I don’t recall anyone. Heh heh, it’s embarrassing, but I don’t have every single member’s name memorized. May I ask why you’re looking for him?”
“Well, you see…”
Cheong recounted the incident at the side gate. Wang Gaeyuk slapped his palm with a fist.
“Ah, that old woman. Truly a pity. I don’t understand why she’s dragging our Daejeong Sect’s name through the mud.”
“You knew about it?”
“Of course I did. Her circumstances were so tragic that I looked into it myself. But that Yi Ha-sam fellow is truly a worthless bastard.”
“Worthless?”
“He got addicted to gambling, lost the family fortune, and even sold his own wife to a brothel. He probably ran off to escape his creditors. And then he had the nerve to use our sect’s name. Tsk tsk.”
Wang Gaeyuk clicked his tongue in clear disapproval. He didn’t seem to be lying. Cheong suddenly recalled the old woman’s words. She had definitely said she had taken on a big job from the Daejeong Sect and would find her daughter-in-law so they could live well again. The phrase “find my daughter-in-law” didn’t make sense if she wasn’t being kept somewhere. If he had sold his wife, then the words meant he would buy her back with money.
At that moment, Wang Gaeyuk spoke up cautiously. “Ah, my children are rather lacking, but they’re begging to meet the honored guests. Would it be all right to introduce them?”
Cheong glanced at Namgung Sinjae. A silent conversation passed between the sword friends.
‘Is this the price of the tea?’
‘It is.’
They seemed to understand each other. If you ate, you had to pay the price. Besides, they had to wait for Paeng Daesan and Changbin anyway. Talking with the children for a bit was no big deal.
---
When Paeng Daesan and Changbin returned, their story was largely the same. A man who had gambled away everything, even selling his wife. He had clearly run away to avoid his gambling debts. But that wasn’t the whole story.
“There are many who ran away like that. They said Yi Ha-sam acted like he had come across a big opportunity. Including him, three people who mentioned the Daejeong Sect were identified.”
“Then is it connected to the Daejeong Sect?”
“The amount of ingredients brought into the sect and the amount of leftover food waste haven’t changed. It’s not a kidnapping.”
Paeng Daesan relayed what the information broker had told him. The female informant from a gisaeng background had given everything without holding back, even throwing in extra details. Beauty had been a form of power since ancient times.
“The only external activities the Daejeong Sect does are patrols. They haven’t sent anyone outside, so it probably has nothing to do with them.”
“Hmm. So they just ran away? What about the Beggars’ Sect? Didn’t you say you asked them too?”
“The beggars…” Paeng Daesan suddenly flinched. “Wait. That expression again.”
It was that look. The one that said I have no idea what you’re talking about.
“Do you… not know what the Beggars’ Sect is?”
“Should I?”
At this point, all he could do was marvel. Had she gone beyond mere ignorance? In truth, she had long since crossed that boundary. Because Cheong didn’t know out of ignorance—she simply had zero interest.
She had never tried to learn, so she never asked questions out of curiosity. And during their journey, there had been no one to ask. The only thing she cared about was food. Seomun Su-rin had been shocked by Cheong’s lack of common sense and taught her many things. But even she hadn’t thought to teach what should have been obvious. How could anyone imagine a gap in knowledge that lay outside the realm of imagination?
And so, only today did Cheong finally learn what the Beggars’ Sect was. She also learned that the tough-looking beggars with tied straw ropes were members of that sect. And that the old beggar with seven knots in his rope, the one who had been annoying her from the start, was actually a high-ranking figure in the Beggars’ Sect. Though even then, he was still her junior in seniority, so there was no need to pay him any mind.
“They said more than thirty people have run away in the last two months. Most were seen fleeing, yet it’s being treated as strange.”
“Then what is it? Are they all running away together?”
“It seems someone is luring people in by promising great benefits under the name of the Daejeong Sect. That’s what I heard.”
“Oh. The beggars are pretty sharp.”
Cheong was impressed. Then something felt off.
“But is that all? Why do only they know? The Daejeong Sect doesn’t know? Shouldn’t they have investigated something?”
Paeng Daesan answered as if it was obvious. “They’re just people who lived worthless lives and disappeared chasing one big score. Is there any need to look for them?”
“Huh?”
Cheong looked at Namgung Sinjae. He spoke up.
“He’s trash who sold his own wife. It’s better for that mother if he just disappears.”
“What?”
Cheong turned to Changbin. He nodded, then naturally averted his eyes the moment they met hers.
What? Am I the weird one here?
Feeling strangely wronged, Cheong protested. “What if someone’s plotting something…”
“Cheong, do you have trouble handling thirty third-rate martial artists?”
“Of course not.”
The way Paeng Daesan had casually called her “Cheong” went unnoticed by everyone.
“Even third-rates who at least know how to swing a sword aren’t a problem. What kind of scheme could you cook up with thirty people who lived in the gutter?”
“Huh.”
When she thought about it, he had a point. But wasn’t that beside the issue?
“Brother Changbin. You say something too.”
“Uh… well… Young Lady. The thing is… this isn’t really something we should get involved in…”
Changbin glanced at Cheong. His hesitant tone suggested he wanted to drop the honorifics. Cheong nodded. She had already suggested they become friends, so his timid hesitation at this point was actually impressive.
“It’s a matter concerning ordinary citizens. In the end, it’s something the government office should handle.”
The principle of non-interference between the government and the murim. It meant neither side would infringe on the other’s territory. That was why fights between martial artists weren’t treated as murder. On the other hand, a martial artist who killed a civilian would be wanted with a bounty on their head. Those who went too far would have government experts dispatched to cut off their heads.
“Of course, there are righteous clans like the Divine Spear Yang Clan that have shed blood for generations to protect civilians. But just because the government is incompetent and can’t stop the Japanese pirates, does that mean the Yang Clan has to step in? Their family is located inland anyway, so they have nothing to do with the pirates.”
The Divine Spear Yang Clan was probably that same Yang Clan. Cheong frowned. She had thought of them as little more than child predators. Ah. I wonder if Jangmyeong is doing well? She had said she would return around the time it got cold. Maybe she could stop by the Mount Hua Sect and then visit the Goddess Sect for a bit.
Then, suddenly, she felt a strange emptiness. Something… something was missing. What was it? Why did she feel so hollow? It was as if something that should have been there wasn’t.
Then the answer hit her. The status window. More precisely, the mission window hadn’t appeared.
Why?
Normally, around this point, it would pop up with its usual Sudden Quest! nonsense and ruin her mood. Had it given up after she overcame it last time?
With an uneasy feeling, Cheong opened the mission window.
No Sudden Quest Triggered
Conditions not met.
Civilian disappearance case does not qualify as a martial conflict or direct personal threat.
Scanning completed missions...
Her pupils trembled faintly as the window floated into the corner of her vision and unfolded before her eyes.
Sudden quests didn’t appear at random. They only triggered when Cheong was insulted or threatened. Or when she was about to fight another martial artist. In other words, the disappearance of ordinary people was none of its business.
Cheong covered her mouth. The snacks she had just eaten threatened to come back up from the sudden surge of nausea.
Ugh, you crazy status window bastard. Whether you show up or not, you’re still a pain in the ass. So it even discriminates when handing out quests? Then what the hell are good karma and evil karma supposed to be? Are there separate standards for the government and for murim people? What was the standard in the first place? If the status window is just arbitrarily assigning points and real good and evil have nothing to do with it… then what about me? The things I’ve done…
“Seomun Cheong!”
Paeng Daesan’s shout snapped her back to reality.
“Are you all right? Your face suddenly turned deathly pale.”
“No. I’m not all right. Not at all.”
Cheong’s hand trembled. Her throat was dry. It was an inner thirst that neither water nor alcohol could quench. Blood. She needed to see blood… she had to see blood…
Then a face suddenly came to mind. That’s right. There was someone she was allowed to kill. She just had to endure a little longer. She could see some blood tonight.
“Huu…”
As Cheong took a deep breath to calm herself, a worried voice called out.
“Sword Friend.”
It was Namgung Sinjae.
“What? Sword Friend.”
“No, it’s just… perhaps.”
Namgung Sinjae hesitated. It was a far cry from his usual confident demeanor. When Cheong tilted her head, he continued with difficulty.
“Thinking about the date… it occurred to me.”
“What are you talking about? Sword Friend, can’t you speak clearly?”
“No, I mean… just a moment.”
Namgung Sinjae rummaged through his belongings and pulled out a small package.
“Here, take this.”
“What is it? A gift? All of a sudden? If you think I’ll be happy just because you gave me something, then you’re exactly right. What is it? Is this a gift from my sword friend?”
Sword friend. Another strange word had popped out. But Namgung Sinjae showed no reaction, so she couldn’t even tease him properly.
“It’s poppy leaves.”
“Poppy leaves? Isn’t that opium poppy? But why—”
When Cheong opened the package, a dry, leafy scent like fallen autumn leaves rose from the neatly rolled dried foliage. It was the calming, forest-like aroma unique to such herbs.
“If it gets too difficult, chew one leaf at a time.”
“Ah. It’s not that bad. Anyway… thank you.”
Cheong expressed her awkward gratitude. After all, it wouldn’t look good to seem happy about receiving drugs.