The Ghost Market Gang

I looked from one of them to the other. Uncle Jang-gwe had his forehead glued to the floor, and the stranger beside him was scrubbing his palms together for dear life.

‘...Do they think I'm a robber?’

Well, I had flung the door open hard enough to break it and then glared at them. It was a fair conclusion. I took my hand off the doorframe and bent at the waist.

"Aigoo, I must have startled you. I'm sorry."

"P-please spare me...! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

The man beside him only rubbed his hands faster. An exceptionally timid fellow, by the look of him.

"No, please get up. I only came to ask about something..."

I wiped the sweat beading on my chin with my sleeve.

"Wh-what did you want to ask...?"

"I'm hoping to acquire a cultivation method... Would you happen to know where a man might buy one?"

Wang Man-geum lifted his head a fraction.

‘A cultivation method...?’

The old monster swept his damp bangs back and waited for an answer. The moment their eyes met, Wang dropped his gaze again. Far from flying into a rage, the man had even bowed his head. There was no reading him at all.

‘Why come to an herb shop looking for a cultivation method...?’

A threat. It had to be. Old monsters—especially old monsters who practiced demonic arts—were rumored to have lived for thousands of years, and to speak in thoroughly peculiar ways. Fail to properly understand that peculiar manner of speech, and...

‘They... they tear you apart on the spot, drink your blood... and chew up the entire corpse, don't they...?’

Then there was only one option.

‘The Ghost Market Gang...’

Win a cultivation method fit for an old monster at their auction, and offer it up as a gift. Do that, and he might yet be allowed to live.

"Is it difficult to obtain?"

Wang shook his head at once.

"N-no! I know a place... I know where to get one! I-I'll get it for you! I swear I will!"

"Then let me give you some money first. How much will you need?"

The old monster reached for his storage pouch.

‘F... fuck... Is that another one of those bizarre figures of speech? Take money off him, and he'll mince me fine and stuff me in that pouch—is that it...?’

Wang flailed both hands, startled half out of his skin.

"N-no! Please put that away!"

"But I'm the one making the request... At least a deposit..."

"After I've brought it to you! We can speak of it then!"

"Ah... Would that really be all right?"

"Yes! Of course!"

‘The service in this place is something else. Customer satisfaction, through and through.’

I put the spirit stones back and left the apothecary.

When I returned to the training ground, So-yeon was still standing before the stone pillar. The moment she spotted me, she released the hand seal she had been holding and came running.

"Senior! How did it go?"

"Jang-gwe said he would get one for me. Claims he knows where to find a cultivation method."

"Ah... Truly?"

"Yes. For now, we wait."

I pinched my collar and flapped it. The sweat had cooled, and my back was damp. So-yeon studied my face, then gathered the bundle she had set beside the stone pillar.

"Thank you again for today. Then I'll see you tomorr—"

"Let's go together. I'll walk you."

"Pardon? Oh, I can go alone, it's quite all right..."

"No."

Bullies were petty little bastards by nature. Humiliate them, and there was no telling what nonsense they might pull.

"I'm worried those bitches from yesterday might come looking for revenge, so... let's just go. If you'd rather not show me your house... you can tell me to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠turn back once we're close..."

"Pfft... No. Please, come along."

‘He really is a strange person...’

Cheon So-yeon walked at Ji-hoon's side. When she detoured around a puddle in the road, he slowed and waited, and she hurried back to him.

‘I don't think there's really a way, but... he tries so hard for me anyway... His hair is a little thin, but... m-maybe it would be all right to open my heart...?’

So-yeon turned her head to look at him. Sweat-soaked strands were still stuck behind his ear. She pressed lightly on the medicine case she had received that afternoon, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tucked inside her robes.

‘...It really is that, isn't it?’

If he had no romantic feelings, who would go this far for a mere assistant? And yet Ji-hoon walked with his eyes fixed straight ahead, hurrying as if someone were chasing them.

‘What an idiot...’

So-yeon stole a glance down at his hand. A little closer, and she could have touched it. She shifted her arm, then tugged at the end of her sleeve for no reason at all.

‘If I take his hand first... that would be a bit much, wouldn't it...?’

The night wind made her hunch her shoulders. Then she looked up at him.

"Um... Senior?"

"Hm?"

"If... if you're cold, you could hold my hand..."

Ji-hoon turned to her.

"M-my hand? All of a sudden?"

"Yes..."

So-yeon ducked her head. Now that she had said it, her face burned.

‘If he's cold he could just tuck his hands in his sleeves... I said something so stupid...’

Then Ji-hoon held out his hand, and So-yeon took it at once.

They walked for a while without speaking. When she curled her fingers just slightly, Ji-hoon closed his hand around hers in answer. She kept her head bowed, her lips pressed tight.

"Hoooo..."

Wang Man-geum drew a long sigh at the entrance of the Ghost Market Gang, drawing his collar closed.

The man guarding the door eyed him.

"You going in, or not?"

"I-I'm going in."

Wang hurried over the threshold.

In the room he was shown to, a one-eyed old man was turning the pages of a ledger. Wang set a pouch of spirit stones and a house deed on the table.

"Um... if the money I have falls short... might I borrow against this?"

The old man unfolded the deed.

"Foot of the mountain. I'll give you two thousand spirit stones."

"C-could it be a little more...?"

"If you don't like it, take it back."

"No. Thank you."

Wang accepted the bidding paddle in both hands and stepped into the Ghost Market, trembling from head to toe.

Seats enough for thousands, and cultivators sitting in them with masks over their faces.

Tak—

Tak—

The man in the next seat had his face fully bared and was clipping his nails. Wang stole a look at him.

‘He doesn't even need to hide his face...?’

The man turned his head. Wang snapped his eyes toward the auction stage.

"Now then, we'll bring up the next item."

An attendant drew the cloth from a tray. The auctioneer lifted a single worn book for the room to see.

"A body-tempering secret manual left behind by an ancient demonic cultivator. One may also train in qi refinement with it..."

Wang sat up straight.

‘Demonic path... body tempering...?’

The old monster had been panting just walking as far as the apothecary. How stifling it must be for a being of that caliber, crammed into a body at only the second layer of Qi Refinement. And he was a man who cultivated demonic arts. Bring him some half-baked orthodox method, and he would suffer for nothing and might well end up dead.

‘That's the one...!’

Wang adjusted his grip on the paddle.

"We'll start at five hundred spirit stones."

He raised the paddle at once.

"Bid."

A cultivator in a bamboo hat in the front row lifted a hand.

"Then I'll bid one thousand spirit stones."

Wang stared at the back of the man's head.

‘Doubling it from the start...?’

This was bad. He had exactly one thousand spirit stones on him. Demonic arts were hardly common, so he couldn't back down here—and yet the money was going to fall short. His head ached in every direction at once. In the end he raised the paddle.

"E-eleven hundred!"

"Fifteen hundred."

Wang bit his lip.

‘Ha... You son of a bitch, why are you blocking my path like this...?’

The other man didn't even glance back. He exchanged a few words with the person beside him and even let out a small laugh. Wang looked down at his own paddle. He was gripping the wooden plaque so hard his knuckles had gone white.

Borrow five hundred, and how much would the interest come to? Could he pay it back within a month? The money owed him by Merchant Choi...

"Fifteen hundred spirit stones. Any higher?"

Wang lifted his head.

"Two thousand!"

He had spoken far too loudly. Several people in the front row turned. Wang hunched his shoulders. The cultivator in the bamboo hat turned his head a little as well, murmured something ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the person beside him, and lowered his hand.

"We have two thousand spirit stones!"

The auctioneer slowly swept his gaze across the seats. Wang stared at the hammer in the man's hand.

‘P-please just stop... At this rate we're all dead...’

He began to shake.

"Is there anyone else?"

The cultivator in the bamboo hat moved his arm. Wang held his breath. Fortunately, the man was only picking up the teacup on his table.

Thud!

"Sold!"

"Haaaah..."

Wang sagged back in his chair. Only then did he let go of the paddle. His palm was slick with sweat.

"Sign here."

The one-eyed old man held out a loan note. Wang pressed a finger to the line where the interest was written.

"This... you're saying this is the interest for a single month?"

"What, did you think it was for a year?"

Wang upended his pouch of spirit stones. He pushed what he had spilled onto the table aside and rummaged through his storage pouch again, even fishing out the loose stones rolling in the corners to add to the pile.

"I-I'll borrow exactly one thousand spirit stones."

"As you like."

The old man tucked the house deed away. Wang squeezed his eyes shut and signed the note.

He slipped the secret manual into his robes and stepped out—and there was the cultivator in the bamboo hat. Wang stopped at a corner of the corridor.

‘...Don't tell me he's waiting for me?’

He had heard the rumors. There were people who won an item at the Ghost Market and never made it home with it. Inside the auction house you paid in coin. Outside, all you had to do was draw a blade.

‘I-I need to get this to him fast. If the manual isn't on me, at least he won't kill me...’

Wang made for the exit opposite the man in the bamboo hat. And then he broke into a run with every shred of strength in him, the kind he hadn't called on since he was nursing.

Once he entered the ravine, Wang slowed. He drew a detection talisman from his storage pouch and clenched it tight.

‘Why in the world did he lay this many traps...?’

Picking his way around them, he walked straight down the middle of the path and approached the gate.

‘Wow... fuck...’

The sight beyond the wall froze him where he stood. The courtyard was pitted and sunken in patches. The flowers at the base of the wall were half burned, and beneath them a dark red clot of blood had dried hard.

Then the gate opened.

"...Jang-gwe?"

"Ah! Yes, that's me!"

The old monster had a talisman clutched in one hand. Wang bent at the waist at once.

"What brings you out at this hour?"

The old monster slipped the talisman into his storage pouch. Wang started to raise his head, then glanced toward the courtyard again, and the man quietly drew the gate in. Wang dropped his gaze in a hurry.

"The... the yard is a little..."

"Ah, it's nothing!"

"I'll have it cleaned up soon. The flowers, too... I'll plant new ones..."

Wang waved both hands.

"It's fine! Please use it however you like!"

"No, but it's your house..."

"I'm really quite all right!"

The old monster fiddled with the gate and looked at him. Before the conversation could go any further, Wang drew the secret manual from his robes.

"I've brought the item you requested."

"Oh? You found it already?"

The old monster opened the gate again and held out his hand. Wang offered the manual with both hands.

"...A cultivation manual?"

The old monster examined the cover, then turned the book over. Wang couldn't take his eyes off the man's face.

‘What if it's a method he's already mastered? If he says he gave me a chance and this is the garbage I came back with...’

Wang squeezed his eyes shut.

"Oh..."

Fortunately, the old monster made a sound that seemed quite satisfied.

"I didn't think you'd find one this quickly. Thank you."

The old monster smiled. Wang smiled back at once.

"Not at all. If it pleases you, that's enough."

"Then... how should I pay you?"

"Ah... the price... Just try it, and if it's all right, whenever you like... If you would only understand my feelings... I'd be grateful! Then I'll be on my way! Please rest well!"

"Ah, yes. Thank you."

Wang bowed his head and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠turned. He had taken only a few steps.

"Jang-gwe!"

Wang flinched and looked back.

"I really will clean up the yard!"

The old monster was waving, the book still in his hand.

"Ah, no! It's fine!"

Wang waved back, then spun around at once.

Only after he was clear of the ravine did he brace a hand on a roadside rock and catch his breath. He glanced back toward the old monster's house.

"Please... you'd better be pleased with the Bloodfiend Demonic Body Art..."