Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Pale Ghost 3
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Baek Moo-jin was still clad in his white robes, a white longsword in hand.
He had slain dozens without uttering a single word. He even impassively hunted down and killed those who had begun to flee.
Brave foes, terrified ones, the swift-footed, the slow, the wounded, the unscathed—from lowliest grunts to squad leaders and even hall masters. He swung his blade without distinction or mercy.
Baek Moo-jin was strong.
And he wielded martial arts utterly unique in the martial world.
But the terror slowly taking root in the hearts of these Black Path warriors stemmed not from his strength or peculiar techniques. It arose from the fact that, even amid this slaughter, not a flicker of emotion crossed his features.
Moreover, Baek Moo-jin's robes remained pristine.
What did clean clothes have to do with fear? In a battlefield like this, it was simply impossible—reason enough to inspire dread.
One fleeing Nine Heavens Alliance member screamed at the top of his lungs without thinking.
"That guy's the Pale Ghost!"
He'd shown no introduction, spoken no words—they had every reason to think him a ghost.
Especially since Baek Moo-jin carried a bone-chilling frost in his wake.
Terror and cold gripped the Nine Heavens men's hearts as the man called Baek Moo-jin solidified into the "Pale Ghost" within them.
All the while, Baek Moo-jin kept pursuing and slaying.
But these were troops defying orders, scattering in every direction. Some dove into the inn's basement, others clambered onto rooftops. One hurled himself into the stream flowing behind the bustling streets mid-flight; another rappelled down sheer cliffs as an escape route. The quick-witted among them instinctively fled away from North Heaven Alliance territory—the path offering the highest odds of survival.
Even for Baek Moo-jin, rounding them all up was no easy task.
A moment later, he stood alone on the now-deserted street, gazing impassively at the hellscape he'd wrought. Only then did he shake the blood from his blade onto the ground, sheathe it, and wordlessly head for North Heaven Alliance headquarters.
2.
On his way to North Heaven Alliance, Baek Moo-jin came upon the remnants of an escort agency's caravan, utterly massacred.
'Done in by the Nine Heavens Alliance?'
It seemed the Nine Heavens were killing everyone they encountered on their northward march. They'd even looted the cargo—crates and bundles lay scattered haphazardly.
Baek Moo-jin glanced back unwittingly.
He had committed a massacre of his own, but he regretted not striking even more ruthlessly. Corpses of escorts lay strewn about, and among them, even children had fallen victim, their small bodies cold upon the road.
Why must innocents like these children suffer in fights between martial artists?
These days, even White Path warriors were deemed no different from Black Path riffraff. Yet Baek Moo-jin clearly saw the divide between the two camps.
No White Path martial artist would slaughter the likes of these... especially frail children. No matter North Heaven's prowess or lack thereof, no matter Alliance Leader Goo Yang-hoo's stubbornness or flexibility—they would never commit such butchery.
Never torment the weak who haven't cultivated martial arts.
Wasn't that the unspoken boundary, the taboo, for those who pursued the martial way?
Baek Moo-jin steeled his resolve anew.
No mercy for Nine Heavens Alliance or Iron Blood Gang.
As he prepared to set off again, he noticed the chest of a boy who appeared thirteen or fourteen stirring faintly. His eyes squeezed shut too tightly—he'd been playing dead since Baek Moo-jin's arrival.
But how could he fool Baek Moo-jin? Approaching, Baek Moo-jin said,
"No need to play dead."
At those words, the boy snapped his eyes open in astonishment, scrambled forward on his knees, and bowed deeply.
"Please spare me."
"What is this? What kind of bow is that? What's your relation to these dead? I'm with North Heaven Alliance—no need to fear."
"Really?"
The boy looked up at Baek Moo-jin. Seeing no shadow of malice or ferocity in his expression, he accepted it at once.
Baek Moo-jin studied the boy's face in turn.
Smeared with dirt here and there, yet he had a rather cute look, sharp and quick on the uptake.
Baek Moo-jin said,
"What were you doing in such a dangerous place? Family?"
Watching the boy's expression as he spoke, Baek Moo-jin realized these weren't his kin. Above all, there were no grief lines on the boy's face.
The boy said,
"Ah, I was a porter staying a few days at the nearby Famous Escort Agency."
Baek Moo-jin tilted his head, eyeing the boy.
'An orphan?'
Baek Moo-jin said,
"How'd you alone survive?"
"The agency head said he'd forgotten something, so I hurried after... but by then, it was like this."
"A porter, yet you weren't with them."
"I'd hurt my back a while ago, so I stayed at the agency."
"A kid with a back injury."
Baek Moo-jin had no time to look after the boy. Instead, he pulled out a money note he'd received at Hongnakjang and held it out.
"Take this. Don't linger around here for a while—it's dangerous. Head southeast or southwest."
The boy took the note with both hands, bowed deeply again in thanks.
"Thank you, sir. I'll definitely repay you."
"Repay? No need. Go on ahead."
Baek Moo-jin gave the boy's memorable face one last look before resuming his steps. From behind, the boy cautiously asked,
"Um, sir... could I come with you? Right now, I have nowhere to go... Even if I head to the agency, I won't know anyone there anymore."
Baek Moo-jin shook his head.
"No. Where I'm going is even more dangerous."
The boy clutched at this straw like a lifeline.
Baek Moo-jin's tall, stately figure and white longsword appealed to him most. He believed life offered turning points that could upend one's fate—and this white-clad master before him could mold him into a splendid martial artist.
The boy was quite perceptive.
He'd heard Black Path forces were swarming the area, yet Baek Moo-jin was utterly calm.
If that wasn't the bearing of a true master, what was?
The boy was convinced Baek Moo-jin was an extraordinarily powerful expert.
He asked,
"Sir, if I come find you at North Heaven Alliance later, could you teach me martial arts?"
"Hah, clinging to a busy man."
Dealing with this child felt harder than facing Nine Heavens Alliance. Baek Moo-jin had rarely even spoken to kids. Back at Snow Mountain Baek Family, he had been the youngest.
Shaking his head, Baek Moo-jin said,
"I don't take disciples. And these aren't arts you could learn anyway."
"Then... an errand boy? Don't you need a servant? I eat very little..."
Ignoring him, Baek Moo-jin quickened his pace. The boy huffed and puffed, running after him.
Baek Moo-jin said coldly,
"We'll meet again some other time."
"Your name, at least!"
"Baek Moo-jin."
As Baek Moo-jin walked away, the boy bellowed,
"Give me any task! I'm quite useful despite appearances. Sir! I know the roads well, been all over! Siiiir!"
At that, Baek Moo-jin whipped back around in an instant. The boy flinched, bowing hastily again.
"Gasp? Greetings!"
Baek Moo-jin cocked his head.
"Have you ever been to Holy Fire Palace?"
"Pardon? First... yes, I've been!"
The boy had blurted "First I've heard" as "First time I've been."
"This kid."
Glared at by Baek Moo-jin, the boy corrected himself.
"I can find it. Holy Fire Palace! My agency head's sworn brother is an info broker. They say he knows everything."
Eyes gleaming, the boy probed Baek Moo-jin's intent.
"Any orders, sir."
'Pretty sharp, huh.'
But no thoughts of taking him as disciple.
Baek Moo-jin scrutinized the boy's face anew, nodded, and said,
"Your name."
"Wi Gal-ryang... er, that's a nickname. I'm Wi Ji-hu."
"Ji-hu."
"Yes."
"Then run an errand for me."
"Your orders."
"Go to Holy Fire Palace and deliver a message. Tell them it's from Baek Moo-jin—they'll have a woman who wants to see you. After passing it on, stay there. Plenty of experts; find a master among them."
Wi Ji-hu asked, eyes shining,
"What message shall I deliver?"
"Tell her when you're alone. Just one phrase."
"Yes."
Averting his gaze, Baek Moo-jin turned and strode away.
"Tell her Baek Moo-jin misses her. She'll understand."
It was ambiguous. It meant he wanted to see Jin So-hye, but also signaled he was clashing with Iron Blood Gang as they'd planned together.
Caught off guard, Wi Ji-hu blinked.
"Pardon?"
"Just say that."
Prodding the core, Wi Ji-hu ventured,
"Huh? Are you lovers?"
Baek Moo-jin halted and turned. Wi Ji-hu bowed his head.
"I'll carry out your command."
"Now go."
To Baek Moo-jin's back, Wi Ji-hu called,
"Take care."
But Baek Moo-jin's form had already vanished.
Wi Ji-hu slapped his knee in admiration.
"So fast. Could I become like that?"
Young as he was, Wi Ji-hu could tell Baek Moo-jin was no ordinary master. He even fancied his own cunning ranked him among the top ten young experts of the strongholds, calling himself Wi Gal-ryang.
Wi Ji-hu let out an old-man sigh—"Hoo"—and firmed his ambitions.
"I'll make that master my master, no matter what."
Of course, Wi Ji-hu inheriting Baek Moo-jin's arts was unlikely. Still, spouting such nonsense, he dashed off with speed befitting his peers.
'But where the heck is Holy Fire Palace? Big trouble.'
Yet Wi Ji-hu's greatest strength was his optimism in any situation. Pounding along, he sorted his thoughts.
'It'll work out somehow!'
Running, Wi Ji-hu mimicked Baek Moo-jin's curt tone.
"Tell her Baek Moo-jin misses her. Baek Moo-jin misses... haha."
He even planned to deliver it in that gruff voice.