Credit Is Where I Draw the Line
The hulking man who had rested a hand on Seo Yugyeom's shoulder glanced back at his comrades with a bewildered look. Judging by the way every one of them was snickering, he hadn't misheard.
"Want me to rip that smug little mouth of yours open?"
The man asked in a stern, forbidding voice. Anger was boiling up inside Seo Yugyeom, but if he flew into a rage here, the laughter behind the man would only swell louder. The fact that his opponent was a scrawny young whelp made it all the worse.
"I told you to clear away the pig's feet."
Seo Yugyeom repeated, patient as a schoolteacher.
The man's eyebrows twitched violently. The mention of pig's feet had scratched at something inside him — all the more so since, for a martial artist, he carried a fair amount of flesh.
"As the old saying goes, a man ought to have a decent, well-filled frame, not be a twig like you—"
"A decent frame?"
Seo Yugyeom looked him up and down. Decent, nothing — the man was every bit as soft and plump as Noh Sang-won of the Sangwon Fabric Shop. Martial artists don't put on weight easily; even the most basic training burns five or six times the energy of an ordinary man's daily toil.
"You must really love stuffing your face."
Seo Yugyeom flashed a grin. The laughter of the warriors behind the man swelled in response — one of them even clutched his belly and doubled over. For men of the dark Dao, nothing in this world is ever more delightful than a friend turning into the butt of the joke.
Martial artists prize their pride above all. Dark Sect warriors more than most, and young warriors more still. A young dark Sect warrior — this man could bear it no longer.
Crunch-!
The man tightened his grip on Seo Yugyeom's shoulder. He meant to begin by crushing one shoulder blade. Applying the pressure slowly, he stared fixedly into Seo Yugyeom's face — he wanted to watch the pain flood that brazen, insufferable mug, until at last the brat was weeping and begging for his life.
That was when it happened.
A clear, hollow crack rang out from the back of the man's skull.
Smack-!
The man clapped a hand to the back of his head. Assuming one of the comrades behind him had done it, he shot a murderous glare over his shoulder — and the moment he saw who it was, his eyes went instantly docile.
"L-Lord Chief."
Cheol U-myeong, Chief of the Black Snake Troop — a man who had risen to District Chief of the Southern Black Alliance at a young age. The simplest way to win recognition fast among rough men is to become the roughest of them all, and Cheol U-myeong's handiwork was famous even within the Southern Black Alliance for its ferocity and cruelty.
"I distinctly remember telling you not to stir up trouble."
When the Black Snake Chief tilted his head at a sharp angle, the man's neck shrank down into his shoulders.
"Say you beat that brat to a pulp. What do you suppose happens next?"
"W-well..."
The man groveled and watched his superior's mood, unable to finish the thought. He honestly had no idea what would happen.
Clicking his tongue at his subordinate's idiocy, the Black Snake Chief answered his own question.
"You'd be handing Oh Jeongsan his justification on a plate. We came here under the pretext of looking into this young master's death — that's the only reason the merchant guild and Wudang can't meddle. But the moment the Black Snake Troop lays hands on common folk, the situation changes. We'd be handing the Orthodox Murim their pretext instead."
"I-I'm sorry."
The man bent that enormous frame of his into a deep, groveling bow. The Black Snake Chief eyed him for a moment, then delivered a light slap to the back of his head with one colossal palm.
"Get back in line, you idiot."
The Black Snake Chief didn't care for his subordinates. For all that they were dark Sect men, they were fools, every last one of them. Sighing, he turned his gaze on Seo Yugyeom — who met his eyes without a flicker.
"Well, now. The dark Dao isn't called the dark Dao for nothing. I just saved your worthless life, so a debt is owed — that much should be plain to you."
Seo Yugyeom scratched his cheek with an index finger. That he was thinking, Should I just kill this guy? — nobody in the room could possibly have known.
"I won't ask anything grand of the likes of you. Just tell me — who's the best cook here in Yichang?"
An unexpected question. Seo Yugyeom glanced at Jin Seongun for a moment, then — somehow — puffed his chest out a little as he answered.
"That would be one Cook Seo of Seongun Inn."
"Speaking down to me now, are we, brat?"
Seo Yugyeom merely shrugged.
For some reason, the Black Snake Chief couldn't bring himself to dislike the man. Those who made their living in the dark Dao had always favored the brazen ones.
"Take me to him. I've come a long way, and my stomach's growling."
"The inn has closed for the day, I believe?"
"And what of it?"
The Black Snake Chief barked a short laugh. Since when did some two-bit inn get to tell him no? If he said he was hungry, then somehow, by whatever means, food was going to appear on that table.
Seo Yugyeom and Jin Seongun traded a brief glance. Both seemed to be thinking along very similar lines.
'Look at that fat pig. Bet he eats a fortune.'
'Dark Sect warriors do love their liquor, too.'
In other words — money. Having reached agreement in the space of a heartbeat, the two nodded at the same time.
This time Jin Seongun stepped forward and addressed the Black Snake Chief himself.
"I'm the owner of Seongun Inn. We'll be honored to serve you."
The Black Snake Chief studied Jin Seongun. He hadn't thought much of the man while he stood quietly by, but with his presence fully on display like this — this one was no ordinary fellow either.
"So. You're the owner, and this is that Cook Seo fellow? Cook Seo, who just finished praising his own cooking to my face."
"Yes, well..."
Jin Seongun nodded, while Seo Yugyeom looked back at the Black Snake Chief with an expression that said, What of it? At the sight, the Chief snorted a laugh. Somehow the owner and cook of Seongun Inn looked to have more backbone than his whole crew of morons put together.
The Black Snake Chief had one refined hobby. Men with grand ambitions prize talented people — especially the ones with visible promise. The Chief was no different; wherever he went, he made a habit of unearthing good timber for the dark Dao. If even one or two of them rose to greatness, it would pay off handsomely down the road. Viewed through that lens, the two men before him looked to be worth quite a lot.
"Good. Let's see what the finest cook in Yichang can do."
And so the band of warriors made their way to Seongun Inn.
By the hour when business would normally have ended, Seongun Inn glowed bright with lamplight, and the smell of liquor and food never let up. Ingredients were running thin, so Seo Yugyeom had stir-fried together the leftover scraps of meat and vegetables with a generous hand of spice. That alone was more than enough to move the Black Snake Troop warriors — and the Chief, a gourmet to his bones, was growing fonder of Cook Seo by the minute.
"No exaggeration at all, then."
The Chief could not recall eating a stir-fry this delicious anywhere in the Central Plains. Nor was the cook the only one who pleased him. The man who had introduced himself as the owner was, in practice, doubling as the floor server — and a superb one at that.
"So tell me — what drink pairs best with this dish? Jukyeopcheong, I'd wager?"
The Black Snake Chief asked it on purpose. Jukyeopcheong was the priciest bottle on the menu, and any ordinary man would have leapt at the chance to push it. This one did not.
"Not at all. The dish isn't rich enough for Jukyeopcheong — this will suit it far better."
What he set down was humble, cheap cooking wine. The choice satisfied the Black Snake Chief even more. To some, that swill was just that — swill — but the Chief, who took his gastronomy deadly seriously, believed that every liquor had its proper role.
"You know your stuff. A floor man who understands the Way of Wine is a rare sight indeed."
To such lavish praise, the man merely dipped his head lightly and slipped away. That easy, measured warmth struck yet another chord in the Black Snake Chief's heart.
'That's what a man ought to taste like.'
Thinking so, he cast an eye over his subordinates — sprawled about in a chaotic frenzy, spilling liquor and food across the floor in their headlong stuffing of faces. Sipping his wine, the Black Snake Chief kept stealing glances at Seo Yugyeom and Jin Seongun.
If he could raise those two — with their cooking skill and their knowledge of fine food — as his own men and keep them at his side, his remaining years promised to be delightful indeed.
'They're a touch old to begin training, but...'
The great flaw commonly laid at the feet of dark Sect martial arts is that they reveal their limits early. Depending on the man, though, that could just as easily be a virtue. In other words, if the two of them had the raw talent, they could match his other subordinates' growth in ten years at the outside.
While the Black Snake Chief was musing along these lines, a subordinate sharing his table tilted back his cup and asked:
"Lord Chief — what if Oh Jeongsan brings in Wudang?"
The Black Snake Chief looked at him. The man's face was brimming over with worry and dread, and his brow furrowed of its own accord.
"That afraid of Wudang, are you?"
"...Yes. Yes, I am."
That honest answer soured his mood further. Fine — Wudang's prestige was truly formidable; fear was understandable. But a warrior of the dark Dao should never let that fear show on his face.
"A waste of worry. It'll all be over before that bastard Oh Jeongsan can lift a finger. I saw him earlier — he hasn't improved an inch from ten years ago. He and I were equals ten years back, which means..."
In other words, he was declaring his own certain victory. The Black Snake Chief deliberately let his confidence shine as he glanced toward Jin Seongun and Seo Yugyeom — but the two seemed utterly uninterested, and he was left feeling faintly awkward.
For a while, talk drifted this way and that — mostly idle chatter, with the occasional mention of the Prosperity Association's downfall, the Southern Black Alliance's response, and the movements of the merchant guild and Wudang. Before long, the Black Snake Chief rose from his seat. He was pleasantly drunk. The company of his idiot subordinates was a flaw in the evening, but the rare outing had lifted his spirits all the same. Better yet, he had found two men he intended to recruit. Not today, perhaps — but he meant to drop by the inn often.
When the Black Snake Chief gave a careless wave of his hand, the warriors rose as one. And as he swept out of the inn, he called back over his shoulder:
"Hey! Owner of Yichang's finest inn! I'll be coming around often, so put it on my name!"
That a dark Sect warrior does not pay his bills is a perfectly natural law of the world. That Jin Seongun would seize such a warrior's wrist like a shackle is, likewise.
"No credit."
Still gripping the man's wrist, Jin Seongun looked him dead in the eyes. For a moment, silence fell. The subordinates, who knew their Chief's temper all too well, held their breath and watched nervously.
The Black Snake Chief stared at the hand clamped around his wrist — then suddenly burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! The more I look at you, the more I like you!"
That he hadn't sensed the grip until his wrist was caught must have been the liquor talking. No — what he liked was the sheer gall of a man who would dare seize a dark Sect warrior like this.
"I'm in a good mood today, so I'll let it pass — but you don't lay hands on a warrior so carelessly. Had I drawn my blade on reflex, that neck of yours would be—"
He made to pull his arm free.
He couldn't. His wrist might as well have been wedged between two boulders; it didn't budge a hair's width.
"..."
The Black Snake Chief's shoulders heaved with effort several times — then stopped dead. Their eyes met and held for a long moment, and a strange stillness settled over the inn.
The Black Snake Chief extended his free hand toward Jin Seongun's face — and in the same instant, Jin Seongun tilted his head slightly aside and slipped out of its path.
"..."
The motion was as natural as water flowing around a stone. Only then did the Black Snake Chief understand why he had coveted these two young strangers so badly. They were already warriors — and high-level ones at that, high enough that he hadn't sensed a whisper of it.
"...So it's you lot."
The Black Snake Chief said it quietly. It wasn't a loud voice, but the room had gone so still that every soul heard it plainly. And while everyone still wore bewildered expressions — the Chief spotted Seo Yugyeom walking out of the kitchen with a grin on his face, a small dagger in his hand.
Then he shouted again.
"You idiots! These are the ones who killed this young master!"
At the same instant, thick killing intent flooded the inn. As if on cue, the Black Snake Troop warriors stripped their blades from their sheaths. Morons they might always be called — but they were dark Sect warriors all the same.
"You sons of bitches!"
The hulking man who had first laid a hand on Seo Yugyeom's shoulder spat out a curse, his voice booming as big as his frame. A ferocious aura exploded from his entire body. He had trained external arts that put his massive build to full use, and in this cramped little inn he was confident he could pound that scrawny cook into powder.
The moment he turned his head to find Seo Yugyeom, a dull iron dagger buried itself in his throat.
Behind him — Seo Yugyeom had climbed onto his back like a cicada.
When Seo Yugyeom wrenched the blade free, blood came gushing from the punctured throat. The body of the man who had died with a bewildered look still frozen on his face crumpled to the floorboards.
Kuuung—!
Then Seo Yugyeom looked around at the surrounding dark Sect warriors and murmured, almost to himself.
"Putting it on credit — that's where I draw the line..."