Chapter 8
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Piercing Sword Sect Luoyang Branch
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Ha.
A surge of rage boiled up from within.
To think that I, of all people, was being toyed with by these Black Dao riffraff who weren't even worth a single punch, all over a paltry sum of money...
Part of me wanted to storm straight into the Black Society headquarters and beat their leader, Gwak Su-san, into a bloody pulp right then and there.
But I'm a righteous sect disciple who carries the path of justice and chivalry in my heart. I'm not some brainless thug who swings his fists first whenever he gets pissed off.
"Huuu, calm down. I have to hold it in. Jang So-cheon, if you lose your temper here and cause a scene, you might get dragged back to the main sect and expelled."
I took several deep breaths in a row.
I'd never breathed this deeply, even when rolling dice in a high-stakes gambling den with thousands of nyang on the line.
Here I was, from the crack of dawn, putting up with this nonsense because of those vile Black Society scum who fattened their purses by fleecing honest folk.
"Ha, haha, hahaha..."
As I kept breathing deeply to rein in my anger, a hollow laugh escaped me before I knew it.
How had I, once Luoyang's most dashing playboy and man about town, ended up in this sorry state?
Was it after that Mount Hua Sect bookworm, the Plum Blossom Sword Hero Cheong-su, utterly demolished me at the Luoyang martial tournament?
Or maybe when I started drowning my sorrows by swapping my sword for dice and wandering from one gambling den to the next?
Since so much time had been wasted in vain, I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it all began.
Eh, whatever.
What was the point in dwelling on it now? Lightning wasn't going to strike from the heavens with a bag of silver.
"Three more times. Just endure three more, and five hundred nyang will be mine."
Technically, it was five hundred nyang of debt wiped clean, but whatever.
If I didn't twist the situation in my mind like this, the frustration building in my chest felt like it would turn into a full-blown illness.
So I resolved once more: no matter what bullshit the Black Society threw at me next, I'd treat it as a five-hundred-nyang job and do it without a peep.
"Whether it's clowning around or acting like a mangy dog. Either way, the money's good, right?"
For half the day, I kept rationalizing things to steel my nerves.
And that night.
I changed into neat clothes just like the day before, strapped my sword to my waist, and quietly headed to the Fragrant Flower Pavilion.
I pretended not to notice the Fatty and the Skinny one tailing me with all their noisy fuss.
Around midnight.
The hour when most folks would be tucked in bed.
The moonlight shone bright, but with no lanterns lit along the streets like in the evening, the surroundings were pitch dark.
But as I followed Luoyang's main road into the district packed with pleasure houses, it felt no different from a bustling daytime market.
Every brothel glowed with colorful lanterns, and young touts—reeking of booze—supported staggering drunks while whispering sweet nothings to lure them in.
Their desperate efforts to drag customers to their own establishments struck me as oddly poignant today.
Even kids barely in their teens were flattering drunks left and right just to scrape by.
Meanwhile, here I was, thirty years old and still clinging to my titles as a Nine Great Righteous Sects disciple, a Piercing Sword Sect member, a martial artist—floundering all day long.
As I passed through the raucous pleasure quarter and approached the Fragrant Flower Pavilion in a quieter spot, a bitter taste filled my mouth for some reason.
Right around the time I thought about rinsing it with some cheap rice wine, the full view of the pavilion's compound came into sight.
"Hoo, already here."
Maybe because I'd come two nights in a row, the Fragrant Flower Pavilion felt a bit more familiar than yesterday.
Smooth.
The moment I arrived, I gave a quick nod to the gatekeepers guarding the main entrance.
I might end up pacing in front of the gate for another hour or two like yesterday and go home empty-handed again.
So after signaling that there was no need to be wary of me, I slowly scanned the surroundings.
Unlike yesterday, the compound was lively with guests even at this late hour.
With high-ranking officials' and illicit luxury carriages lined up in front of the gate, it looked like there'd been some big event this evening.
"Heh heh heh! I can't recall a day as fine as this one!"
"My lord, with nothing but success ahead, how can you say that?"
"We shall serve you with the utmost devotion."
"Is devotion enough? This humble servant stands ready to lay down his life for you at any moment. Just give the order."
"Just give the order! I too shall devote this worthless life to your will!"
Middle-aged men draped in luxurious silk robes worth hundreds of nyang each emerged from the Fragrant Flower Pavilion.
Judging by their extravagant attire, they seemed like local bigwigs and notables who fancied themselves important.
People who wanted for nothing, groveling like those child touts at the edge of the pleasure quarter, fawning over an old man they called "my lord."
The sight struck me as bizarre, but to them, it was apparently just everyday life.
"Heh heh, you lot. You've really gone all out today."
The old man responded to their flattery with a pleased smile.
Then, after droning on with pointless chatter—perhaps the alcohol hitting him—he fell silent, waved them off, and climbed into his four-horse carriage.
"This old man's talked too much. I'll head in now, so you young folks enjoy the rest of your time."
The middle-aged men bowed deeply toward the rapidly departing carriage.
"My lord, safe travels!"
"We'll arrange another gathering soon!"
"Visit anytime! We'll drop everything and come running!"
The carriage was galloping too fast for any of it to reach him.
Yet the men kept their waists bent until it vanished from sight.
"Phew, he's gone now. Everyone, straighten up."
"Ugh, my back. That damn geezer should've known better and left earlier. What's with sticking his ass in the seat till midnight?"
"What else? He's saying the tribute didn't satisfy him."
"Didn't satisfy? That old fart shoved at least five thousand nyang up his ass today. Five thousand."
"Five thousand? Add in the silks, jewels, and luxuries he took for his family as a 'gesture,' plus what he spent here tonight, and it's easily ten thousand nyang."
"Not like the old coot's heading to the Western Paradise with bundles of cash. What's with his bottomless greed?"
The same men who'd been spouting honeyed words moments ago flipped their attitudes in an instant, spewing curses.
I instantly understood why they say the slyest beast in the world is the black-headed one—man.
"Enough, enough. Once this deal goes through, we'll double—no, more than double—what we've handed over so far. Just hold your tempers till then."
"You got it."
"The finish line's right around the corner. Keep your mouths shut and wait for the auspicious day."
The middle-aged men exchanged knowing smirks, then climbed into their carriages one by one.
"Well, I'll head out first."
"I've got a long way back, so I'll be off."
"Take care, everyone."
Clatter clatter clatter.
As the carriages peeled away like an ebbing tide, a soft melody lingered in the suddenly quiet front courtyard of the Fragrant Flower Pavilion.
Sweep, sweep.
The gatekeepers, accustomed to such scenes, fetched brooms with indifferent expressions and began tidying up.
While they cleaned the entrance, I slipped to a corner and waited for the Black Society goons to show—if they did.
Truth be told, if they didn't appear and I went home empty-handed like yesterday, that was fine too.
Gwak Su-san's condition was three trials, one task—not every night.
If this dog-training was to test my patience, I'd gladly play along.
With that mindset, I leaned against the wall and waited about fifteen minutes.
From the direction where the officials' carriages had scurried off, a dark cluster of figures approached on foot.
Even from afar, their rough looks and attire screamed they didn't belong at the Fragrant Flower Pavilion.
So I figured they'd just pass by and head deeper into the pleasure quarter.
But against my expectations, they stopped right in front of the gate.
The sharpest-looking middle-aged man among them spotted me and greeted me warmly.
"Hahaha, Young Hero Jang So-cheon. It's not quite the witching hour yet, but you're already here bright and early."
"...?"
"Ah, my apologies. Facing Luoyang's greatest gambler up close for the first time has me a bit excited—I've been rude."
He called it rudeness himself, but his face showed no hint of regret or shame.
If anything, he looked thrilled, like a kid who'd found a shiny new toy.
"Forgive the late introduction. I'm Nam Seong-pil of the Red Dragon Gang."
"Nam Seong-pil... the Red Dragon Ghost Blade?"
"Uhhahahahaha! To think Young Hero Jang knows this fool's nickname. What an honor."
Nam Seong-pil burst into booming laughter, as if it were the funniest thing ever.
His guffaws were so loud they swallowed the faint music drifting from the courtyard.
The gatekeepers winced and glanced at each other.
A normal person making this much racket at the Fragrant Flower Pavilion's gate would get a warning.
But this wasn't just anyone—it was Nam Seong-pil, boss of the Red Dragon Gang, who controlled over half of Luoyang's underworld.
Gatekeepers couldn't touch him.
"Cheol-ho. Fetch the outer steward. Hurry."
"Yes, sir."
The senior gatekeeper alternated glances between Nam Seong-pil and me, bracing for trouble.
I didn't want to cause them any hassle either, so I skipped the pleasantries and cut straight to it.
"Did your gang leader summon me here?"
"Hmm. It's a bit ambiguous whether this is his intent or not."
"Ambiguous? That's surprising. Your gang leader's famed for his razor-sharp calculations, yet here he is with vague words."
"Hahaha, exactly. I never imagined a straightforward guy like me spouting such evasive nonsense. But after getting an unexpected proposal from the Black Society Leader this evening, I find myself just as baffled."
Despite claiming confusion, the corner of Nam Seong-pil's mouth kept twitching upward.
"Well, it's awkward hashing out details standing here."
"..."
"Why not sit down, share a drink, and continue? Perfect spot for it right in front of us. How about a round? Heh heh heh."