Night of the Moneybags Revelry
That night.
We held a meeting perched on actual sacks stuffed full of money—not some metaphor.
“Ehehehehe.”
“Uhahahaha.”
“Heh heh heh heh.”
It was a gathering to celebrate the martial arts hall's smash hit, hash out our future operations, and prepare countermeasures in case word reached the Jeomchang Sect headquarters.
But no matter who tried to speak—me or my juniors—the laughter just kept bubbling up uncontrollably.
“Kuh hah hah, enough giggling already. Let's talk business. At this rate, we'll waste the whole night without saying a word.”
“Says the senior brother flashing his teeth. Your mouth's twitching right now.”
“Ahem, that's just my natural smile. Heh heh heh.”
“Heh heh, kinda looks like it. Kinda doesn't. Eh, who cares? Point is, we hit the jackpot overnight. That's what matters, right?”
Yeo Chu-sam grabbed fistfuls of the money pouches scattered across the floor—still not fully sorted—and unleashed a booming laugh that bared his entire throat.
Not to be outdone, Wang Mun-gi jumped up, slung a sack over his shoulder, and started humming a tune while wiggling his hips.
A truly grotesque display that I'd normally shut down on the spot, but today? I'd let it slide.
Because today was one hell of a special day.
We've just kicked off our scheme and hit the big time on opening day. No point killing the vibe by fretting over fallout right away.
A day or two—no, three or four days of sucking the sweet nectar dry and reveling in it? That'd be fine.
Sure, rumors travel a thousand li without legs, but Luoyang to Unnam was roughly five thousand li.
Even a diligent walker would take at least two months, and bad weather delaying river crossings or mountain treks could stretch it to three.
In other words:
For a couple months, we can run wild without HQ breathing down our necks.
Of course, I had no intention of keeping up this madness for one or two months straight.
As Yeo Chu-sam pointed out, too much attention invites unforeseen trouble.
Plus, rival dojos might call out our shell game tactics and start outright sabotage.
So, factor in all scenarios, suck the honey quick, then bolt. Key was a short-term blitz.
Thus: a fortnight. No more, no less. Just two weeks of pure nectar-sucking, then out.
We laid out our plans along those lines, and Yeo Chu-sam and Wang Mun-gi nodded along without objection.
They figured two weeks would let us have our fun without messy cleanup, too.
“Alright, that's the schedule sorted. Now, let's party like we mean it!”
“Hell yeah!”
“Been waiting for this!”
The moment I finished, Wang Mun-gi dashed out and hauled in the prepped booze spread.
It was loaded enough to snap a table leg.
Before digging in, I filled our bowls to the brim and raised a toast.
“From today, we're loaded!”
“Loaded!”
“From today, three squares of rice and meat soup every meal!”
“Rice!”
“Meat soup!”
“After long years of hardship, light has dawned on our Luoyang Branch!”
“All thanks to senior brother!”
“How could it all be my doing? We each nailed our roles—that's why we succeeded today!”
“Right on!”
“So let's celebrate till dawn, till our bellies burst—eat and drink!”
“You got it!”
“Let's eat till we drop today! Puahaha!”
Chomp, chomp!
Slurp slurp slurp!
Gulp gulp! Kahaaah!
After dealing with endless ant-like suckers—no, customers—all day while starving, we shoveled food and booze into our mouths like possessed demons.
Once our guts were somewhat filled, we switched to pricey liquor, laughing and yapping away.
Until when?
Till dawn broke and the suckers started trickling back to the shell game stall.
Day five of the Jeomchang Sect Luoyang Branch shell game operations.
Just as Yeo Chu-sam had predicted early on, Luoyang was in an uproar.
Age, gender, status irrelevant—anytime two or more people gathered, they buzzed about the Jeomchang Sect Luoyang Branch stunt.
That many people paying for a test?
Do they really teach Jeomchang Sect martial arts if you pass?
Is it right for a famed great sect like Jeomchang to pull such bizarre sales tactics?
Mostly gossip like that.
So the veteran Luoyang dojo bosses brushed off the Jeomchang fuss as minor noise.
“Heard those young Jeomchang donors pulled off something fun?”
“Hoho, even you, Zen Master?”
“Of course. Luoyang's abuzz—news reached these old ears too.”
“I only learned the day before yesterday myself and was shocked. Such flexible thinking—Wudang, stuffed with rigid stick-in-the-muds, couldn't dream it up.”
“Not just Wudang. Shaolin's all blocked-up monks too. Hohoho.”
The murim's twin pillars, Shaolin Temple and Wudang Sect, dismissed Jeomchang's antics as a novel try.
Mount Hua Sect, ever eyeing their thrones, naturally chuckled it off too.
With Shaolin, Wudang, and Hua showing no real reaction to Jeomchang shaking up the Luoyang dojo scene...
The mid-tier Qingcheng, Zhongnan, and Emei sects stayed mum and dignified.
But Gongmu Sect—one of the Three Weak alongside Jeomchang in the Nine Great Sects and One Gang—couldn't sit idle.
Why? They were the biggest victims of Jeomchang's lunacy right now.
“So, what's the situation now?”
“Well...”
“Spit it out straight—no beating around the bush.”
At the bellow of Muryangja, Gongmu Sect's seventh elder and Luoyang Branch overseer, Unam—the disciple handling lay recruitment—cautiously reported.
“The young disciples are restless, and foot traffic to the branch has flat-out stopped since the Jeomchang commotion...”
“Stopped flat? By how much?”
“Exactly that—flat...”
“No—specifically! How many? New recruits down by how much?”
Unam hesitated at Muryangja's roar, swallowed dryly, then murmured:
“...Zero.”
“Zero? What?”
“No one's visited the branch since that day, Elder.”
“Ha...?”
Too absurd for words, Muryangja didn't rage—just gulped empty air.
Unam, knowing his boss's foul temper well, watched quietly. Internally, he racked his brain for a fix to this unprecedented mess.
But a lifetime of rigid rules left him no quick fix against these half-mad lunatics.
Ha, how to salvage this disaster?
Expecting a thunderous rebuke any second, Unam fidgeted, eyes darting.
“Hm.”
As time dragged, Muryangja only let out a faint grunt—no other reaction.
That unnerved Unam more. But the Jeomchang Luoyang Branch fiasco was so outlandish, Muryangja opted to assess coldly rather than blast Unam's incompetence.
“Unam.”
“Yes, Elder.”
“Set emotions aside. Let's break down the situation coolly.”
Muryangja steadied his breath and continued.
“Objectively, Jeomchang's Luoyang push failed. We were debating branch withdrawal timing.”
“Yes—even the main estate on the central avenue was pawned off for a back-alley hovel. And borrowing against it at Geumhwa Jeonjang? Infamous tale. Everyone figured Jeomchang's Luoyang exit was just a matter of time.”
“Right. Word was their higher-ups slipped out from Xi'an silk deals back to Unnam under 'business' pretenses.”
“They deny it, but signs pointed to quietly liquidating assets and heading home.”
“Exactly... but then...”
Muryangja narrowed his eyes, trailing off suspiciously.
“They pull this stunt? Doesn't add up.”
“Hm, yeah, weird.”
“What gives? They're sinking, so drag everyone down? Let's all die together?”
“Doubt they'd self-sabotage just to splash mud on others...”
Unam pushed back, and Muryangja's eyes flashed fury, voice rising.
“Then you're saying those bastards pulled this insanity just to scrape a few coins?”
“Given the results... isn't that it?”
“You fool! It's Jeomchang Sect! Jeomchang! Gutless husks without pride or honor—hanging their sect arts on a cheap shell game? Makes no sense!”
“True, but...”
The current Luoyang Branch head's that gambling fiend, Bungwang Geom Jang So-cheon.
Unam bit back the thought— it'd just earn extra scolding. He nodded vaguely instead.
Muryangja found it insolent but pressed on, focused.
“There's some scheme afoot.”
“Yes.”
“Probably beyond our imagining. They're wild horses—pick a goal, charge blind ahead.”
“Yes.”
“So you head to Jeomchang Luoyang Branch now. Probe their intentions. Discreetly, naturally—no obvious moves.”
“Yes... wait, me?”
“Who else? This sixty-something relic sneaking around?”
“B-but...”
Snapping from his daze at this spy gig from nowhere, Unam blurted desperately.
But it just painted him as back-talking a thick-skinned elder—Muryangja wouldn't budge.
“Don't come back till you've dug up every dark secret!”
“E-Elder...!”
“Go, you brat!”
“Waaah! I'm going, going! Stop kicking!”
Thus, Unam fled Muryangja's kicks toward the Jeomchang Sect Luoyang Branch.