The Night Is the Cat's Time -1

Jeon Hu-dam, leader of the Tongyee Sect, was an information broker who had been working in Sichuan Province for well over a decade. He was a seasoned veteran ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with thick bones in the trade, as the saying went.

He took quiet pride in the fact ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that, within Sichuan at least, the Tongyee Sect ranked among the top five information organizations. By the very nature of the business their true faces rarely came to light, yet after more than ten years swimming in these waters he had gathered enough scraps to sketch the rough outlines of his competitors.

The commission that arrived from the Golden Family was a major job even for an outfit like the Tongyee Sect.

Was there an information broker alive who did not know that gold overflowed from the Golden Family? The reward was correspondingly lavish, so whether he was the sect leader or not, Jeon Hu-dam had no choice but to throw everything he had into the work.

“Hmm.”

First he decided to retrace the entire chain of events from the beginning.

The fact that Tang Do-gyeong and Yeo Il-ye had stopped by the Wanderer Inn and then left again was of little value. Whether it was Tang Do-gyeong or Yeo Il-ye, both of them had business with the Nangin who played Yabawi, so of course they would have visited the inn.

Skip that. Next…

That Go Bu-rin of the Golden Family worked as a middleman was common knowledge. Any information broker worth his salt would have heard about the sleight-of-hand performance that had taken place right in front of the Golden Family estate, whether he wanted to or not.

So Jeon Hu-dam realized at once that the Nangin the Golden Family was asking about—Ho Cheon-an—was the very same man who had staged that performance. Otherwise there would have been no reason for them to single him out by name.

Tracking the man’s subsequent movements had not been difficult either. Lately he had been traveling with a female Sichuan Nangin.

Jeon Hu-dam began working backward through Ho Cheon-an’s trail.

For the money involved, this is almost too easy. Maybe I should have just handed it to the underlings?

Most of a Sichuan Nangin’s work stirred up enough noise that their movements were recorded somewhere. A little digging through the files would usually turn up what he needed.

The sum was large enough that he was collating the information himself, yet compared with the grim resolve he had mustered at the sight of that figure, the actual work felt disappointingly dull.

Sichuan Province was the gathering place of sects that operated under the open or covert patronage of the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans. How could such a place ever be easy?

For any martial sect to survive here, information was indispensable. Was there anywhere else where the surface currents and the undercurrents ran so completely at odds? Sects that grew large enough to dip even a toe into these waters inevitably split into two kinds.

Those swept away without a trace by the absurd hidden currents flowing beneath the surface…

Or those who sensed the whirlpools and scrambled to prepare countermeasures.

The latter always ended up knocking on an information broker’s door.

And the first thing those sects sought was information on the Sichuan Nangin. After all, the ecology of the martial world here was utterly different from every other region, and the most alien element of all was the Sichuan Nangin.

Fleecing those newborn sects was the true delight of running an information business in Sichuan.

Because the province’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ecology was so bizarre and twisted, ambitious new sects would get stars in their eyes and shove gold across the table, thinking, If I just get my hands on the Nangin’s secrets, I can somehow seize hegemony, can’t I?

And the information houses cheerfully sold them those secrets. For example: a man named Jeong Sam of the Half-Moon Blade has entered the ranks of the Sichuan Nangin. In the Nangin circles of Henan he did such-and-such, and he uses the Half-Moon Blade Technique. Personal details of that sort.

The sects that burned with ambition and bought up Nangin dossiers eventually, after enough years of living in Sichuan, came to the same realization. Once a Nangin’s identity became public, only the buyer suffered. Even if you drove the Sichuan Nangin out or used them to become the province’s overlord…

What followed would inevitably be a blood-for-blood free-for-all. That was simply how the structure worked.

Any mudskipper that crosses the line can simply be removed.

Still, every so often a sect truly blinded by greed would decide to overturn the entire province. When that happened, the information brokers sold the news to Yu Sa-yeon.

Yu Sa-yeon would then issue a challenge notice and shatter the offending sect.

Afterward the information houses of Sichuan would once again treat the newborn sects that sprang up in the restored peace as easy marks.

Those who knocked on Sichuan’s gates full of confidence either failed to see the underside and died, or saw it and spent the rest of their days barely daring to breathe.

“Tsk tsk. Looks like they thought Sichuan was a joke.”

The Taegyeong Sect had been one of those who flung themselves into the water without even noticing the current.

Jeon Hu-dam clicked his tongue as he read through the report on the Gyeongsu Market incident.

“Well, it wasn’t as if they had nothing to lean on… a local clan from Yunnan? The Gyeongsu family? With capital no better than a country manor, they thought they could plant themselves in Sichuan? Ridiculous.”

The Taegyeong Sect leader had possessed nothing but a single martial manual and his bare body when a large sum of investment money suddenly arrived. Ambition was bound to catch fire. But desire was desire and reality was reality.

A frog in a well had hopped about without knowing how terrifying Sichuan could be. They had hired Nangin without even the basics, so of course things went wrong. Once Go Bu-rin cut them off, the Taegyeong Sect had nothing left but to wither and die in this province.

“Hmm… what bothers me is that Yeo Il-ye went looking for the Wanderer Inn.”

The fact that Yeo Il-ye—the Nangin Crusher—had entered the Wanderer Inn and left again without causing a single injury had been quite the topic among information brokers. Afterward she had revealed Super-Peak Realm strength and thrown the Sichuan martial world into turmoil, so curiosity about what had happened inside the inn that day was only natural.

There were even rumors that a Nangin had granted her enlightenment.

Looking back now, it made sense that Yeo Il-ye had given Ho Cheon-an her Favor-and-Grudge Token during that incident. At the Yabawi table in front of the Golden Family, Ho Cheon-an had staked Yeo Il-ye’s token; the only realistic chance he could have received it was when she stormed into the Wanderer Inn.

“Ha, of all places they had to meet inside the Wanderer Inn… what a mess.”

Even for an information broker of Jeon Hu-dam’s caliber, intelligence from inside the Wanderer Inn was nearly impossible to obtain.

Everyone who came and went—middlemen and Nangin alike—belonged to high-profit trades. In that closed little space, if information leaked, the source would be identified in an instant, so no ordinary sum of money could pry their mouths open.

As for the waitresses and cooks who worked there, Yu Sa-yeon had hand-picked every one of them, and they lived at the inn year-round; contact was equally difficult.

If Yeo Il-ye and Ho Cheon-an could be cleanly linked, the whole job would become simple. Having to rely on conjecture alone was maddening.

“Ho Cheon-an… Ho Cheon-an…”

At least it was clear that the Nangin named Ho Cheon-an stood at the center of every incident.

Tch. Something feels off.

On the rational level the causal chain simply would not fit.

Yet the moment information touched him, there were instants when something connected in the instinctive or unconscious realm.

For some reason, the instant the word “Yabawi” reached him, Jeon Hu-dam’s mind flashed to the gambling tables at Gaehwaru.

There had been a night when a board carrying stakes of over a hundred gold taels had seen a spectacular reverse, and the entire house had erupted.

Thanks to that night a man named Dogwi had become known as Sichuan’s foremost gambler. His opponent had simply vanished somewhere.

A gambling master skilled enough to deceive a Super-Peak expert… is that this Ho Cheon-an?

The link between Ho Cheon-an and the gambler of Yeongsang-ru remained hazy. One was a master of Yabawi; the other a master of dice. Gamblers usually specialized in a single main game, and the idea that a Yabawi artist good enough to fool a Super-Peak master would also be that proficient at opposing dice felt suspicious.

The information Gaehwaru bought… let’s see…

The master of Gaehwaru had also scattered gold for intelligence, and the sum had not been small. Leafing through the classified request records, Jeon Hu-dam found the name Ho Cheon-an.

“Luck was on my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠side with this one…”

Sichuan Nangin were still human; occasionally fragments of internal Wanderer Inn gossip leaked outside. Apparently one of those scraps had concerned Ho Cheon-an.

“Not decisive, but more than enough for preliminary research.”

“Hmm. So he really is that good at gambling.”

A chill ran down Jeon Hu-dam’s spine.

The voice was utterly captivating, like jade beads rolling across a silver tray.

Yet he had sensed no presence whatsoever. When a voice like that suddenly brushed one’s ear, anyone’s blood would run cold.

Especially here, deep inside the most secret archive of an information organization—the very chamber where all commission records were stored.

How?

Only then did an indescribable fragrance seep gently into his nostrils. Far from feeling enchanted, Jeon Hu-dam broke out in a cold sweat.