Sichuan's Number One Nangin Star Instructor ~Practical Edition~ -1
Midnight.
Black Cat began climbing the exterior of the Wanderer Inn without making a sound.
Fourth floor.
Yu Sa-yeon's private quarters.
The door was already open, as if waiting for a visitor, and at Black Cat's soft touch it slid open without the faintest noise.
"You're here?"
Black Cat nodded silently and closed the door behind her.
"He didn't talk about you, though. Surprisingly loyal of him, wouldn't you say?"
"Hmph. That damn bastard."
Yu Sa-yeon clicked her tongue in irritation.
"I really can't figure that guy out. Out of nowhere he starts calling people 'batchmates,' then he goes and installs this whole class-number culture… and the day Yeo Il-ye showed up, he was off at a gambling den blowing through money."
"Class culture is a military way of sorting people. Could he be a former soldier?"
"Wouldn't surprise me. He gets this weird hostility whenever anything about the army comes up."
Yu Sa-yeon looked Black Cat over. They had been doing business for some time now, but she still did not find her a particularly trustworthy partner. The face wrapped in Shadow Image Qi Gong, the refusal to give even a single name—
It was no wonder Ho Cheon-an had turned her down for a full five days. The whole package reeked of suspicion.
Even from a woman's perspective, that body was unreal—beauty so extreme it barely seemed possible. Breasts that big, and yet a waist you could span with one hand. Hips as wide as her own. How did a figure like that even exist?
"Ho Cheon-an really is a strange one. I know perfectly well he's a second-rate warrior, and all he ever shows is the most pathetic side of himself—and yet somehow he still makes me think, What if this guy actually knows my enlightenment?"
If she asked me outright whether I could really grant her enlightenment… would I answer?
Black Cat genuinely considered it.
Wanting to become the greatest nangin in Sichuan had not been a complete lie. If she became the representative face of Sichuan's wandering warriors, she would be free to gather all the attractive information she wanted.
Deceiving people was, for Black Cat, as ordinary as breathing—something that never so much as pricked her conscience.
And yet something in her chest insisted that Ho Cheon-an was not someone she should deceive.
Was it because he was taking her seriously?
It doesn't feel like that's the only reason, though.
"Don't forget my goal either. Just like we agreed—if I catch even a hint that you're slacking off, this ends immediately."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Black Cat smiled faintly and held out her hand.
A handshake.
Yu Sa-yeon twisted her face into a scowl and took it.
"Heh heh."
The moment I reopened for business, the middlemen swarmed in like a pack of dogs.
"Nangin Ho!"
"Warrior Ho!"
"This one's really urgent!"
Gyaaaah. Guwaaaah. I nearly blacked out under the stampede of people.
Anyway, after clearing out the miscellaneous requests, four decent jobs remained. I summarized today's commissions the way I would a quest window.
"These are the ones worth taking from what I can handle today. Any questions?"
"An Azure Snow Cat is… a cat, isn't it? Even if the difficulty makes sense when you're searching for a single cat across all of Sichuan, why is the risk rated high?"
"Because Sichuan has one weird rich bastard who insists on calling a tiger a cat."
Honestly, the only commission that was actually doable was the Jingshui Market Black Path cleanup. I could force my way through the others if I had to, but a rookie deserved a little consideration. Even in hero stories, the rule of thumb was to start by killing slimes.
And… well. Reality had to be faced eventually.
That morning, Black Cat and I had settled the finer points. First: the commission fees were mine, the Black Path kills were hers. In exchange, we would prioritize jobs that built her experience. On top of that, if anything came up that could make her name as a nangin, I would actively cooperate.
If that cooperation ever got so long-term or so massive that it interfered with my livelihood, we would renegotiate compensation.
Somehow the Jingshui Market job had been brokered by that same overfed middleman again. His smug little grin was deeply unpleasant, but a deal was a deal.
"What kind of place is Jingshui Market?"
"Just an ordinary market."
In the Central Plains, the concept of a market was simple. A merchant was someone who held the rights to a storefront—to a piece of land—and did business on top of it. Anyone without a storefront was not called a merchant. Street vendors, in other words, did not count.
A market was where those street vendors gathered. But just as even filthy water finds a channel, any true Sichuan local—even a street vendor—had their own territory. So markets were where newcomers with zero commercial foundation, itinerant traders, and people who came up to the city to sell crops or homemade crafts did their business.
Which meant that to loan sharks and thugs collecting daily protection money, a market looked like a gold mine. No local roots, plenty of outsiders—no messy aftermath. And markets were chaotic enough that bolting was easy.
"Which is why Black Path types keep popping up. And popping up again."
"I see…"
Black Cat trailed off, sounding unconvinced. Not a complete airhead, then? She had at least noticed that something felt off. But she did not ask, and I did not answer.
"The stares… are harsh."
"Yeah. They are."
A gaze was a form of violence.
Become a Sichuan nangin and you felt that in your bones. Just putting on a black bamboo hat was enough to change the way every person in Sichuan looked at you. Eyes full of loathing, as if you were filth. I had known it from game knowledge, but living it was a completely different animal.
Enduring it, though, was on you.
"What you do today is simple."
"What is it?"
"Hang back and watch. When I give the signal, disappear quietly."
"…Excuse me?"
"If you can't slip away unnoticed, just run. I don't care."
I could feel Black Cat's incredulous stare, but I ignored it and headed into an alley. I planned to kill time here until the Black Path targets showed up.
"Explain. You're just going to waste time until those Black Path people appear anyway, aren't you?"
"Just watch today. If explanations alone were enough, why would anyone prefer experienced people? See it once, then decide whether you can do it or not."
Black Cat folded her arms, full of complaints, and leaned against the wall. I pulled out the Lightfoot Martial Arts Chronicles, Volume 7 I kept in my robes and started reading.
About half an hour later, maybe.
The Black Path thugs I was waiting for seemed to be gathering.
One muscular boss who had torn his sleeves from the shoulders to broadcast how delinquent he was, plus three ordinary underlings trying very hard to look menacing. The way they strutted with their chests puffed out reminded me of those memes of gym newbies on day three walking around with their arms stuck out.
Judging by how carefully people avoided them, they really had been stirring up trouble in the market lately.
"Those ones?"
At some point Black Cat had pressed right up against my side. An indescribably pleasant scent teased my nose. Seriously, put on a turn signal before you pull in—when someone with that face just shoves in close, my heart starts hammering.
I suppressed the heart that was showing off and the little guy that was trying to hijack my brain screaming Is this a green light?!, then looked back at the Black Path thugs. The sight of filthy men quieted both heart and junior instantly.
"What did I say earlier?"
"To just watch."
"Right. If things start looking big, actually run."
"Understood. So go ahead and demonstrate, Senior."
"Good. Watch carefully."
The moment I stepped out onto the market's main street, people recoiled in horror.
"A black bamboo hat!"
"It's a Sichuan nangin!"
Pretending not to look, I scanned the surroundings at speed. Apples? No good—they'd bruise if they hit the ground. Grain? If that spilled, I'd be picking it up and sifting dirt forever. Pass. Cotton cloth would be perfect, but I didn't see any…
A basket full of chestnuts caught my eye. Yeah. That was within the acceptable range.
Today's qualifying prop: a chestnut basket!
Right foot—go greet the contestant!
My right foot carved a magnificent arc and kicked the chestnut basket skyward.
Chestnuts scattered in every direction.
"Good heavens!"
"Oh no, oh no!"
"Y-you—you absolute bastard!"
"Annoying."
After delivering the most charismatic possible performance of I am a Sichuan nangin—if a chestnut basket gets in my way while I'm walking, I kick it without mercy, because I am a villain, I turned toward the Black Path thugs staring my way.
Eyes glaring daggers at me.
Today's job was going to be extremely easy.
The fact that Black Path thugs did not flinch at a black bamboo hat was proof they were wet-behind-the-ears puppies who had never once met a Sichuan nangin on these streets.
"Heh heh."
Now then—how should I paint these puppies with fermented soybean paste so Black Cat would praise me for a job well done?