Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Hao Sect
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The Bamboo Leaf Liquor carried a slightly sweet taste with a crisp, refreshing aroma that lingered on the tongue.
Drinking it with a woman made even ordinary booze feel like the finest vintage. Hwa Mu-rin smiled and asked,
"Didn't realize it was a gambling den, huh?"
"Yeah. I went thinking it was some martial arts tournament, but nope—casino all the way. The realm restrictions seemed fishy from the start."
"Same here."
Suddenly, someone bellowed loudly.
"Hey! You damn prick, acting all prissy like some wench!"
He ignored it and focused on Hwa Mu-rin.
"Speaking of which, I ran into this guy called Bi Seong-ja recently... and guess what? Lost every last coin he had."
"Cough, cough. W-Wait, because of me?"
"Pretty much. But no need to feel bad..."
Hwa Mu-rin's face flushed bright red as she coughed. He handed her a handkerchief.
"Ahem...! Where'd this come from? Suspicious!"
He told her, meeting her wary gaze.
"By the way, you don't even need spirit herbs—why enter the tournament?"
"Huh? W-Well... b-books..."
Hwa Mu-rin bowed her head deeply. The nape of her neck turned red.
"Books? Ah, I see."
He nodded, looking at her fondly. Now he understood why she'd stepped onto that stage.
'A knight-errant at heart.'
She frowned and said,
"What? Quit looking so smug."
"Heh..."
Bang!
"You ignoring me, you bastard?!"
Someone slammed the table and yelled. A toad-like man glared daggers at him.
Hwa Mu-rin let out a soft sigh.
"Sigh... Maybe I should just play the ordinary girl from now on. Everyone's gotta pick a fight."
"Done with the knight-errant act?"
Her face turned beet red.
"Knight-errant act?!"
"Nah, I figured you were just a guy playing hero."
Hwa Mu-rin puffed out her cheeks cutely and grumbled.
"What're you even saying... I'm not."
"You bastards!!! Ignoring me, huh?!"
The inn fell silent at the sudden outburst. Si-woo clicked his tongue and said,
"Hey. You're drunk—go home and sleep it off nicely."
"What the hell, you—"
"You wouldn't dare start rattling off your family name like some cliché, right?"
The toad's face turned purple, speechless.
"Y-You...! Some third-rate nobody!"
Si-woo gave the quivering-jowled toad one final warning.
"Just leave."
The toad ground his teeth. His eyes burned with contempt, like he was staring at a bug. Rage boiled up in Si-woo.
The same look he always got from his clan.
"How dare you!"
As the toad finally exploded and tried to stand—
Shwick—tang!
"Hup!"
Somehow, chopsticks were embedded between his legs.
Thud.
The toad, who'd been rising, collapsed as his legs gave out.
He reflexively tried to pull back. But sitting down like that? No chance.
His flailing arms grasped at empty air.
"Wha... what?"
His center of gravity shifted sharply backward, and the chair toppled over.
Crash!
All eyes turned to the toad-like man.
His face turned tomato-red. Tears even welled up in his eyes.
Everyone fell silent, at a loss for words.
A hellish minute passed.
Si-woo tsked softly.
'Ten years of blanket-kicking ahead for him.'
He almost felt sorry for the guy now.
"D-Damn you!! F-Fuck!!"
The toad ran out sobbing. An awkward silence hung, then laughter leaked from around the inn.
Si-woo shook his head and asked Hwa Mu-rin. Embedding a blunt chopstick into wood like that? Fully mastered, she'd never need a gun.
"How'd you do that just now? Impressive."
Flattered, Hwa Mu-rin beamed.
"Hehe... Want me to teach you?"
"Sure."
She leaned in close and whispered,
"Then... you teach me yours too."
"...No can do."
Si-woo refused, though her eyes mesmerized him. Giving it away for free? No free lunch.
She tsked and pulled back.
"Tch. Fine, then no deal."
"Sneaky... But seriously, that guy okay?"
He worried it might escalate into real trouble.
Hwa Mu-rin laughed.
"Pfft. Anyone big-time hanging out in a dump like this? They'd drink at classier spots. No escorts either."
"True enough."
The wary waiter approached.
"Ahem... sirs. That jerk from earlier..."
"The toad?"
The waiter clapped a hand over his own mouth, stifling a laugh.
"Haha! Mmph! T-Toad... Anyway, he's the youngest son of the Iron Martial Workshop."
"Iron Martial Workshop?"
A pretty famous blacksmith clan in Hunan Province.
"Bad rep means no real pull in the family... but still, best watch your back."
"Why...?"
The waiter suddenly clammed up.
"..."
Hwa Mu-rin handed him a coin in admiration.
"Whoa—you're sharp."
The bowing waiter whispered,
"Thanks. Anyway, TL;DR: He's a slob who loves picking fights in cheap dives like this. Never been humiliated like today, though. Who knows what he'll do."
Si-woo was impressed by the kid.
"Damn... You ever think about the Hao Sect?"
"Nah, heard they're kinda weak these days... Anyway, I gotta go..."
The waiter bowed 90 degrees and vanished.
The innkeeper smiled and said,
"...That'll be 220 iron coins total. Make it 200."
Hwa Mu-rin pulled out her bulging pouch, coins spilling over.
"I'll cover it."
"Thanks."
As the innkeeper tallied,
"Oh, sirs! Your stay ends today. Extending?"
No place to crash yet, so he nodded.
"Yeah."
"Meals included, 50 coins a night."
He rummaged in his pouch and paused. Then shot Hwa Mu-rin an awkward glance.
Hwa Mu-rin panicked.
"No way... broke?"
"Yup."
"What?!"
She crossed her arms in disbelief.
"Sorry. Turns out I'm one of those guys who blew their fortune gambling."
Her furrowed brows twitched. Arms uncrossed slowly.
"N-No way... that tournament?"
"Yup. Sorry, spot me some cash?"
"Uh, sure... I'll pay. Ugh..."
Hwa Mu-rin shivered in frustration.
Si-woo watched her and said,
"Gotta quit gambling."
"Y-Yeah... gambling's bad."
"Plenty others lost everything too, I bet."
Hwa Mu-rin blurted,
"No way! Th-That can't be?"
"Nah. Knew one—Bi Seong-ja, remember? Acted like he'd been scammed."
Hwa Mu-rin's eyes trembled. She looked deeply uncomfortable.
Seated on the bed, Si-woo eyed the square wooden box.
'This the five-year spirit herb?'
Click.
He opened it carefully. No fresh scent. He nibbled a root—bitter and astringent.
Crunch, crunch.
Felt like chewing bitter ginseng.
Soon, the entire Hwasu root vanished into his stomach.
"Hm..."
Eyes closed, he focused on the root's energy.
Heat from his gut spread through his meridians, coursing everywhere.
It began blending with his Mixed Origin Qi.
The Mixed Origin Qi Art handled myriad energies. Soon, the root's heat vanished into it.
"Hoo..."
Exhaling impurities, he opened his eyes.
Power surged through his body.
He felt like bolting out and running wild!
Drew his sword and swung at the air.
Whoosh!
Fierce sword force!
No attributes, yet it carried heavy momentum—like a powerhouse swing.
Shwick! Shwick!
He swung repeatedly. Worked up, he infused weight into the Mixed Origin Qi.
Followed by a downward strike.
Whoom—crack!
A faint dent scarred the floorboards.
"Oops."
He eyed the blemish, then sheathed carefully.
"Ahem..."
A bit overboard mid-way, but he still felt great. At this level, maybe that too?
Palm open, he concentrated.
Expelling internal energy outward.
Second-rate prerequisite.
Qi flowed through meridians. Normally cycling naturally, now it shifted faintly to his will.
Whish—
A gentle breeze rippled from his palm.
'Got it!'
Euphoria hit.
Typical third-rates couldn't freely wield their qi—it just flowed naturally.
But that alone granted superhuman physique.
His Mixed Origin Qi Art went further.
Even at third-rate, he could alter its attributes along the meridians.
Changing the circling energy's nature.
Made him faster, heavier.
The supreme art crafted by former Hao Sect Leader Mok I-do.
One more step: second-rate. Direct qi control.
Freely in combat? True second-rate.
Smiling at the palm breeze.
'Entry to second-rate imminent.'
One more push.
Finished sparring with Si-woo, Hwa Mu-rin marveled.
"Whoa... Leveled up huge overnight?"
Even she sweated post-spar.
Unlike the tournament, where she hadn't broken a drop.
"Hwasu root worked wonders."
"Hwasu root?"
Hwa Mu-rin tilted her head.
"That strong? Mind if I check?"
He offered his wrist. She knew tons, often sharing martial trivia.
"Whoa...! Three years? Insane! How much qi'd you squeeze from that root?"
Si-woo thought he'd absorbed nearly all. Barely trained, so most his qi was from it—not exaggeration.
But... three years? Something off.
"Three... not five?"
"Huh? That's three. Wait, you bought that tournament hype? Five-year this, five-year that?"
"Wasn't it a five-year spirit herb?"
"Hahaha. Hundred-year Hwasu root giving five years' qi? Nah, one's lucky for one. Five's legend-tier—Heavenly Martial Body maybe."
Si-woo narrowed his eyes, muttering.
"Heavenly Martial Body?"
"Mm... Optimal for training, basically. Total myth. Don't sweat it. But... from how you said that, you really got three years from it?"
He nodded.
"Whoa... Amazing. You aiming for master status? How?!"
Watching her awe, he asked,
"Dunno. Guess I got talent. Hey, Mu-rin, how do normal folks make money?"
"Money?"
Caught off-guard, Hwa Mu-rin tilted her head. Sweat-soaked training garb clung tight.
Si-woo snuck a glance at her figure, impressed.
'Bigger chest now...'
She'd ditched the chest bindings since the toad incident—no more male disguise.
Si-country bumpkin to others. To him? Pale-skinned beauty.
Her breasts, freed, swelled bigger than before.
'E? F?'
Seeing his serious pondering, Hwa Mu-rin tapped her cheek thoughtfully.
"Mm... Ronin gigs, usually? Escort stuff?"
"Ronin?"
"Yeah, hauling cargo, bodyguarding... that kinda thing?"
Even saying it, she didn't seem experienced.
"Sounds good. Know where to find commissions?"
"Huh? Uh, well? Oh! Heard the Hao Sect does that lately?"
"Hao Sect...?"