Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Finding Our Fortuitous Encounter (2)
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'Finding the mother of that courtesan, huh.'
Since the courtesan I was fated to meet was a fictional character to begin with, her mother doesn't actually exist.
'But the old woman I need to find is definitely out there.'
In the original story, the process of locating Wi Cheol-jin's tomb drags on for quite a while.
It's no wonder, given the hundred-year gap between Wi Cheol-jin's era and now.
'They say ten years can change mountains and rivers—imagine a hundred times that.'
Over those hundred-plus years, the Taeho slums shifted in location and appearance due to floods from the Taeho River, government policies, and the shifting interests of local powers.
Naturally, the courtesan slum at the slums' farthest edge kept relocating back and forth, until its position no longer matched the one from a century ago.
The original protagonist's generation splits into three paths to resolve this, each pursuing their own approach until their feet blister.
The Zhuge Family's Little Martial Strategist, true to his lineage of steadily producing advanced scholars from the direct and branch families, taps into government connections to gather ancient maps around Taeho and unravel the clues.
Thousand Gold Smile Yin Xia Lian claims it's a likely spot for where Wi Cheol-jin rests—and even if wrong, the scenic Taeho area guarantees a worthwhile trip. She summons local brokers in secret under the Silver Radiance Merchant Group's name, vowing to buy up the land if needed and dig it all up.
And the protagonist himself, the 'Murim Academy genius' Jeong Hyun, starts by canvassing the courtesan slum.
But upon witnessing the lives of the world's most despised outcasts, he sets aside his original goal and spends his time and money eradicating the black path gangs preying on them and providing relief.
'Honestly, while reading that episode in real-time, the protagonist's approach seemed the most promising.'
But the reward for his righteous deeds comes soon enough.
『"Come to think of it, when I was young, a landslide buried our whole village. While resettling the hut sites, my eldest sister claimed a spot over there by the ridge. There was this foundation underground made of perfectly fitted model bricks, like they were molded to interlock. Now that I think about it, that might be the place you're looking for."』
In the end, Wi Cheol-jin's tomb really was beneath the 'spot over there by the ridge' the old woman mentioned.
Thus, the protagonist catches the rat while the cow backs up, stumbling onto Wi Cheol-jin's tomb.
There, he connects with the lingering will of Wi Cheol-jin, achieving a breakthrough in his martial arts and obtaining a mysterious spirit pill—the origin of the Demon Transformation Pill.
'So, I can skip the trial-and-error faced by the Zhuge Little Martial Strategist or Yin Xia Lian and simply follow the exact path the protagonist Jeong Hyun took from the start.'
Of course, the outcome will differ a bit.
The protagonist Jeong Hyun, the 'Murim Academy sword genius,' embodies righteousness itself.
If he deems something just, he'll charge into fire carrying firewood; if unjust, he'll stand firm like bamboo before anyone, blocking their path.
'I'm not one for funerals without offerings—I could never be like Jeong Hyun, even in a hundred lifetimes.'
Ah. But I've already died and come back, haven't I?
See? Still no good.
Anyway.
The protagonist helps the courtesan slum out of pure intentions.
I know that scattering angelica around to the old women will eventually snap one of them out of her haze, revealing the tomb's location. My approach is quite different.
'If anything, mine's downright hypocritical.'
But is hypocrisy so bad?
In the original, the protagonist's generation wouldn't reach this place for another year and a half.
Pulling that timeline way forward means the old women get pain-relieving herbs for their strange affliction much sooner—a win for them.
'And a win for me in getting stronger.'
I eat the pheasant and its egg too, and since I'm twisting the original anyway, I'm relatively free from butterfly effects.
'When Wi Cheol-jin's lingering will connected with the protagonist Jeong Hyun in the original, it said the barrier was one he could overcome alone but offered a little help anyway.'
So, me scooping it up early shouldn't cause any real issues.
Anyway, that's enough thinking.
"The most I can do is escort you to the courtesan slum. I don't know who's who or where they live. You'd at least need her courtesan name, right?"
I turned to Chun-aeng, who furrowed her brow as if this were her duty, and spoke.
"I don't know her courtesan name or even what she looks like. Truth be told, I have no sharp way to pinpoint the exact old woman I'm after."
I've binged the original multiple times, but impossible is impossible.
It's not like every hut in the slum has a street address plaque, or like the common folk register fingerprints. No one, not even me, can single out one person that way.
"...Pardon? Then how do you plan to deliver the angelica?"
"I'm certain the old woman I'm looking for is here. And I have plenty of angelica and time."
But do I really need to pinpoint her?
"What do you mean? This humble girl's head can't quite..."
"I mean there's no need to find just one. I'll give a handful of angelica to everyone in the slum. That way, the one I'm after is guaranteed to get it, right?"
Just distribute to all and cover every possibility.
"Ah! That's... No, wait—really?! But that would cost a fortune!"
Well, that's because Chun-aeng doesn't know about the fortuitous encounter with the founding Heavenly Demon slumbering beneath the slum.
If word got out about Wi Cheol-jin's tomb here, people would line up with mountains of gold.
'Of course, swords would flash before that line even formed.'
No need to spill all that to Chun-aeng, though.
I quickly came up with a vague deflection, chuckled, and replied.
"You know 'a fortune' is pretty subjective, Chun-aeng."
As a courtesan from the famed scenic Taeho, she's surely seen playboys splash money like water.
'Of course, since this cash is coming from Yin Xia Lian's pocket, not mine, I can flex even cooler.'
As expected, Chun-aeng nodded at my words.
But my prediction wasn't entirely spot-on.
"True enough. But the men I've seen scattered gold for their own gain or pleasure. Seeing you give purely for others stirs different feelings."
"No need for special feelings..."
"There is! Those so-called righteous martial artists strut with pretty faces, but they're no better than posturing bandits. Who knew someone like you existed—a true hero from the tales?"
"...Hero? Hardly."
Chun-aeng's candid mouth spun tales of heroism and chivalry.
I hadn't expected the conversation to veer there, leaving my face itchy with embarrassment. But on second thought, it wasn't bad.
'Anyone else might not care, but Yin Xia Lian will definitely tail me.'
Judging by her original personality, the woman preparing for Righteous Martial Academy might dig into why I'm at Taeho's courtesan slum.
'If Wi Cheol-jin's name even leaks, it'll be chaos.'
But if tales of my 'heroic deeds' spread?
From her view, helping her counts as chivalry too—so she'll skim the surface: 'Eon Yong-un can't pass by those in need.' No deep digging.
On that basis, I let Chun-aeng's misunderstanding stand, enduring the hot praise as we walked.
How long had we gone amid her embarrassing accolades?
The scenery grew bleak and wretched.
The whale-back pleasure houses, lantern-lit pleasure boats gliding the lake amid embroidered revelry—all reversed on Taeho's shore.
The air reeked of fishy, sour rot that pinched even strong noses; the mud clung sickeningly to boot soles. There, Chun-aeng's steps halted.
"This is Taeho's courtesan slum."
"So it is."
"You're unfazed?"
"What, expecting me to retch?"
"A little?"
I've spent lifetimes with rotting corpses as the Necromancer King—this is nothing.
I just chuckled. Chun-aeng bowed deeply in farewell.
"Anyway, this ends my guidance. As a native, I offer profound thanks for your boundless grace, great hero."
"No thanks needed. I'm doing this for myself. Great hero? Please."
"Then accept this self-serving gratitude—it costs you nothing."
"Good grief."
With a final nod after my 'fine,' Chun-aeng hurried back the way we came.
Left alone, I pulled an angelica pouch from my pack.
I approached the nearest ramshackle hut—ready to collapse in a stiff breeze or downpour—and knocked.
"Anyone home?"
After that, things went smoothly.
This era prides itself on not mistreating visitors.
And as the Necromancer King, I'd long grown numb to corpse rot, so the stench and desolation didn't faze me.
Thus, I approached the slum dwellers without hesitation.
They eyed the neat outsider warily at first, but seeing no contempt, curiosity won—they'd at least hear me out.
Riding that mood, I handed each a handful of angelica, asking: 'Wasn't there a landslide that buried the whole courtesan slum long ago?'
Various replies came.
"...Sorry, I don't know. I'm new here."
Most old women claimed recent arrival, ignorance.
"Ah, yes, that happened."
"Everyone resettled their plots then..."
"Yep, while salvaging our swept-away belongings, sharp ones snatched the good spots. We got stuck by the ditch—terrifying every rain."
Some remembered the event but lacked my desired info.
I pressed on undeterred, narrowing possibilities one by one.
Eventually, I met the old woman with my answer.
"Yes! That landslide hit like a monster—we all resettled. My hut got the prime spot. Eldest sister claimed it—underground was this foundation of perfectly interlocked model bricks."
"Can you tell me where?"
The spot she described was a trash dump of sorts for the slum folk.
"...No one lives here now, huh. For this reason?"
But in the original, it wasn't a dump...
"Well, the original characters arrive two years from now—something must've happened since."
Anyway, it suited me fine.
Better than fine.
Wi Cheol-jin's tomb chamber was underground, so digging was required regardless.
Dumps, past or present, spark NIMBY backlash—few seekers meant no prying eyes for nighttime shoveling.
"Let's see—back to Taeho, ditch on the left, headless stone Buddha on the right. Around here, then?"
Crucially, ancient dumps bury unclaimed corpses haphazardly...
So plenty of high-quality retainers slept here, ready to help dig.
"Rise!!"
Grraaah!
Grraaaahhh!!!
"Uh, you lot?"
Grr?
Grraa?
"I'll hold a proper ancestral rite when done—just help with the digging."