Wudang First-Disciple Baek Jin-yong (2)
"I'm Baek Jin-yong."
The man who introduced himself as Baek Jin-yong looked around the inside of the convenience store with eyes full of wonder.
"Top-grade night-luminescent pearls, and so many of them! And all these things I've never seen before piled up everywhere. Owner, is this stuff from the Western Regions?"
I nodded roughly, and Baek Jin-yong nodded back with an "I see, I see."
"Is there no place to sit here?"
"Ah, Hwa-yeon, show the customer to a seat."
"Got it, Grand Chef."
Hwa-yeon led Baek Jin-yong to one of the plastic chairs inside the store.
"Owner! Give me some chicken and noodles, please. Oh, make the noodles spicy."
Baek Jin-yong knew exactly what he wanted. He must've thought this was just like any ordinary inn.
I headed to the refrigerated section and picked out a vacuum-packed smoked chicken leg and a pack of spicy ramen. I tore open the chicken leg packaging a bit and microwaved it for a minute. For the ramen, I poured in hot water and grabbed some wooden chopsticks, then set them down on the table where Baek Jin-yong was sitting.
"That'll be fifteen copper coins total. Pay upfront."
"Here you go."
Baek Jin-yong placed the coins in my palm. Like Yoo Hwa-yeon and Gwak Sang-hyeon before him, he stared at the ramen cup in awe.
"This is... noodles?"
"Yeah, spicy noodles. We call it ramen."
"Ra... ramen? But why is this chicken just a leg? I asked for a whole one."
"Sorry, but we don't have whole chickens at the convenience store."
"Huh. What a strange inn."
Baek Jin-yong tilted his head, but he was already focused on the aroma wafting up. He picked up the brown smoked chicken leg, turned it this way and that, then took a huge bite.
"Ooh! This is smoked! I've only heard about it, never actually tried it before."
Baek Jin-yong exclaimed in delight as he tore into the chicken leg and slurped up the ramen.
A Wudang warrior, huh. I examined his appearance closely. Wudang was known as a sect where disciples trained in the Dao to become immortals. In the novels I'd read, their descriptions always painted them as impeccably clean in their attire, flawless in their martial robes, always neat in appearance with graceful steps.
But this guy...
Slurp slurp! Nom nom! Gulp! Burp!
His shabby look, the dark circles hanging under his eyes, his carefree posture, and the way he chomped away at his food like a pig. No, this wasn't the Wudang I'd imagined. Was he just some beggar who'd picked up discarded Wudang robes off the street? Seeing a real Wudang disciple shattered all my illusions based on mere descriptions.
I whispered to Hwa-yeon standing beside me.
"He's really from Wudang... right?"
"The robes are definitely Wudang's, but..."
Hwa-yeon tilted her head too.
Baek Jin-yong polished off the ramen and chicken leg in no time, then leaned back in his chair and let out a satisfied "Buuuurp!"
"Man, who knew an inn with flavors like this existed. You really do see something new every day."
He looked like he was just past thirty, and here he was talking about seeing something new every day. Yeah, definitely.
With his belly full, Baek Jin-yong finally started looking around the store properly. He'd been too absorbed in eating at first to notice the marvels inside.
"Owner, if it's not too much trouble, mind if I take a look around the inn?"
Perfect timing. If Baek Jin-yong explored the store and then went back to Wudang to talk about it, other curious disciples would come sniffing around. That'd slowly build up my customer base.
I nodded, and Baek Jin-yong grabbed his sword and started wandering the aisles. He marveled at all the usual spots that impressed Murim folk: the dozens or hundreds of random items, the fridge leaking cold air, the brightly glowing fluorescent lights. His mouth hung open so wide a fly could've flown in unnoticed. After a while, he stopped at one spot.
"Owner, what is this?"
I was cleaning up the trash he'd left behind when he suddenly asked. Curious, I went over. In his hand was a bright yellow, crisp sheet of paper—a scratch lottery ticket called Spitto, with a grand prize of 100 gold bars scribbled on it.
"Ah, that's called Spitto. It's a lottery ticket. Lottery."
"Lot... tery?"
"So, you scratch off these numbers here."
I pulled out a coin and started scratching the front. As the rectangular area revealed pictures and prizes underneath.
"See these pictures? If they're different, it's a bust. If they match, you win. Here, ten coins next to a matching picture? That's a ten-coin win."
"So, it's like money begetting money?"
"Pretty much. This one's ten coins to play. If you win ten coins like this, you break even."
Baek Jin-yong's face was blank, completely entranced by the promise of instant riches on the front.
"So, that 100-gold-bar prize could really come up?"
No way. In all my convenience store days, I'd never seen anyone scratch a 10-billion-won jackpot. Murim wouldn't be any different.
"It could, but you'd better not get your hopes up..."
"Gimme one!"
"Pardon?"
"Just hand over one first."
"Well, I can give you one, but..."
I'd sell anything as long as they paid, but Baek Jin-yong's eyes had this manic glint. Like he was thinking, I'm gonna hit it big this time! Whatever. Probably just a hobby. A Wudang disciple dreaming of immortality wouldn't fall into gambling, right? No chance.
"We've got ten-coin and twenty-coin ones. Which do you want?"
"Both!"
Manokru, known as Hubei's largest brothel. Everyone who passed through had the same glowing review.
"Manokru is one special brothel!"
True to that, from Murim Alliance warriors to unorthodox fighters, even demonic cultists in disguise, local lords, and merchants—everyone made their way through at least once.
One part praised the delicious food. Another wanted a glimpse of the nation-toppling beauty running the place. Some raved about the courtesans' dances and songs. But the biggest chunk—fifty percent—was all about the gambling.
Pass the vast courtyard of Manokru, reach the end of the courtesan quarters, and there was a hidden door. Beyond it lay a gambling den beyond imagination.
Even today, warriors had shown up from midday to fill the place.
That was why Manokru was called the brothel of day and night.
"Hey! I saw it with my own two eyes! The ball was definitely in the middle bowl!"
A hot-blooded young warrior flushed red and stomped his foot.
"This is fraud! I clearly saw this guy slip the ball into the right bowl at the end!"
Murmurs rose from the crowd gathering around at the young warrior's words. Gambling was illegal anyway, but getting scammed inside still stung.
The young warrior smirked smugly at the agreeing faces.
"Listen, errand boy. Confess your scam, apologize, and return my money, and we'll call it even."
The shell-game hustler, juggling three bowls to guess where the ball hid, sweated nervously.
"Sir, fraud? Nothing like that here."
"Hah! Still denying it to the end?"
Shing! The young warrior drew his sword from his waist. The sharp tip hovered near the hustler's throat.
"Let's see if you keep lying now."
"Eek!!"
As the on-site guards rushed in, "Move a muscle, and the errand boy's head rolls!" The young warrior's shout halted them.
But tap-tap-tap—despite his bellow, light footsteps continued approaching.
"Who goes there! Move and his head—!"
"Would a self-proclaimed hero really threaten an innocent man's life?"
A clear, refined voice. Elegant steps. A tight qipao baring her side, hugging her voluptuous figure.
"It tarnishes the righteous sects' reputation."
Her eyes, slowly blinking as if to warn, held deep wisdom.
"Oh ho. You must be Manokru's owner, Cheon Hyang. The rumors of your nation-toppling beauty are true."
"You flatter me."
"But seems you lack the virtue to match. Running a gambling den is one thing, but outright fraud?"
Cheon Hyang approached the hustler. "Did you really cheat?"
"Madam! I'm innocent! No cheating at all!"
She turned to the young warrior. "He says no."
"I saw it clear as day!"
"One man's word isn't proof of fraud."
"You bitch? Think your looks let you get away with anything?"
"Why not play a round with me instead?"
Cheon Hyang placed a small ball under the middle bowl.
"If you win, you get your money back plus double profit. If I win, apologize cleanly and leave empty-handed."
"Hah! I said prove the fraud, why another shell game...?"
"You mix them. I'll guess. No worries about us cheating then, right?"
The young warrior's eyes gleamed. Fine. Handing me the keys? He'd heard she had deep, wise eyes and intellect, but it was all hype. She was a sucker.
He didn't think he'd lose. He sent a transmission to someone in the corner: 'One more time.'
'Double.'
'Double... fine.'
How could the hustler move the ball without touching? This was all the young warrior's setup, with a Manifestation Realm expert using void-grasp in the corner.
Incomprehensible for such a master to stoop to scams with hustlers, but only he knew why.
"Deal. Keep your word."
The young warrior's hands flew. Cheon Hyang's pupils tracked the middle bowl. At the last second, he subtly lifted one—no one noticed as the left ball zipped to the middle.
"Guess where it is."
A woman who didn't know the first stroke of "martial" arts? Victory was certain.
But "Middle."
His face froze. How?
"Check it."
He stayed silent, so she lifted the middle bowl herself. "Here it is."
His face turned beet red. He drew his sword again. "You bitch! What trick now? This is definitely—"
"I never touched it. How could I cheat? I don't even know the stroke for 'martial' arts."
Shing! Her throat met his blade.
"You dare! Do you know who I am? I'm the Hubei Martial Alliance branch's—"
"Tak Seon-gang. Leader of the Hubei Martial Alliance's Yellow Dragon Hall, right?"
"You know me well."
"Honored to have the Hall Leader enjoying our humble establishment, but if fraud's proven, will you walk away unscathed?"
"What?"
"I saw the transmission. Your shoulder twitched."
Tak Seon-gang snorted. "Didn't you say you don't know martial arts? How'd you see my shoulder twitch?"
"Oh? With all the experts here, is the old transmission master in the corner the only one?"
Their gazes clashed in the air. He was speechless.
"Slip away quietly? Or should I report to Murim Alliance HQ?"
Tak Seon-gang sheathed his sword. "Hmph! That high nose of yours will break someday. Hope I'm there to see it."
"The bigger the dream, the better."
He clicked his tongue and stormed out of Manokru.
"Whew."
Cheon Hyang sighed in relief. A guard approached her.
"Madam, sorry, but urgent report."
"It's fine. Speak."
"We tracked him. He's in the Ghost Soul Great Forest."
Her face hardened at those words.
"I'll go myself. Prepare."
"Yes, ma'am."
Cheon Hyang fiddled with her jade ring.
Baek Jin-yong. Finally caught your tail. Wait. I'll chase you to the ends of the Central Plains.