Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Chapter 10 Small Incident (4)
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Yeo Mae-hong let out a sigh as she watched Chu Un-hwi return with his usual carefree gait.
"Where have you been?"
"To the outhouse."
"Ah..."
After drinking that much, it was only natural.
As she sighed, Chu Un-hwi looked around and whistled.
"What a mess."
"There aren't many who didn't spill everywhere because of someone."
"That's why you should drink in moderation."
Yeo Mae-hong was exasperated by Chu Un-hwi, who spoke as if he had nothing to do with it.
Jo Hyun, who had been helping with the cleanup nearby, chimed in.
"Well, there was a silver lining at least."
"A silver lining?"
"It ended faster than any banquet in history, right? Normally, it drags on to second rounds, third rounds, until dawn, leaving everyone miserable."
That was true.
Instructor Yang, listening beside them, added,
"On top of that, the heavy drinkers among the instructors suffered a proper humiliation today. There won't be as many forced drinking parties bragging about their tolerance from now on."
"Humiliation... Yeah, that sounds about right."
Thinking about it, it made sense.
All those who passed out today were notorious drinkers who, when refused, would claim things like 'drinking parties are an extension of work' or 'you have to hold your liquor to build camaraderie.'
It was ironic that they had been sunk by Chu Un-hwi, who showed no sign of seeing it as work-related or caring about camaraderie.
"We won't get dragged to pointless gatherings as often for a while."
The taciturn fist master known as the Nine Hundred Iron Fists seemed to have found such summons quite burdensome lately.
"Instructor Yang, cleanup's done."
"Good work."
Over there, the dejected employees counting silver contrasted sharply with the delighted owner.
It looked like they'd handled the aftermath simply and settled with silver.
Instructor Yang, glancing around, turned to the group.
"It ended too early. How about those who are up for it head out separately for a drink?"
"Good idea."
The banquet had ended too abruptly, even if briefly.
A handful of like-minded folks quietly made their way to a modest inn.
The five like-minded individuals found a small inn.
Instructor Yang frequented it, but it was quite unassuming for a place visited by Bronze Hall instructors.
He explained it was a spot he often came to while struggling through instructor exams.
Sure enough, as soon as they entered, the owner grilling skewers at the entrance greeted him familiarly.
"Instructor Yang? You're here?"
"Long time, old man."
Once seated, delicious skewers kept coming out.
"Nice place."
Nom nom.
Yeo Mae-hong looked slightly intimidated watching Chu Un-hwi nonstop shove skewers into his mouth.
"You gonna hit the outhouse again after eating like that?"
"Gotta eat to grow big and tall. Nom nom."
"Come to think of it..."
Jo Hyun added thoughtfully from the side.
"Doesn't Instructor Chu seem a bit taller lately?"
"Taller? Not sure..."
"You're always with him, so you wouldn't notice. I only see him occasionally, so it's clear to me."
Even Yeo Mak, munching on skewers, joined in.
"Yeah, it does seem that way."
Instructor Yang, listening, found it odd too.
"Instructor Chu, how old did you say you were?"
"Twenty-five. A fine bachelor in the flower of marriageable age."
"Growing taller at twenty-five..."
Highly suspicious.
Upon second thought, there were more than a few oddities.
An appearance far more youthful than his age suggested.
Not even a hint of stubble under his nose; smooth as could be.
And an appetite like he was in the middle of puberty, with visible growth spurt.
Sure, people could grow later in life, but was it common sense for someone who'd gone twenty-five years without growing to suddenly shoot up in just five months?
At the center of the dubious stares, Chu Un-hwi shrugged nonchalantly.
"Guess I have a late-bloomer constitution."
"Even late bloomers have limits, don't they?"
To Yeo Mae-hong's jab, Chu Un-hwi chugged from a bottle, wiped his mouth with a satisfied "Ahh—", then said,
"Huh? It's empty."
"Tell 'em to bring another."
"Nah, I should drink in moderation."
"That's your tenth bottle already. Isn't 'moderation' a thing of the past?"
"Everyone's limit is different, right?"
"I'll cover it. Drink up."
"On second thought, my liver's just starting to feel it. A bit more then."
"You're one hell of a drinker."
"I'm young, so my liver's all fuzzy and fresh. Can't compare to some old, pickled one."
The rookie instructor Yeo Mak, face flushed after three drinks, muttered enviously.
The light, comfortable gathering continued endlessly.
It was about time to wrap up.
Creak.
A customer who had been in the corner since earlier stood up.
Chu Un-hwi, still munching skewers, suddenly spoke out of the blue.
"Tell her the gift was well received."
Yeo Mae-hong, her flushed face slowly tilting her cup, cocked her head.
"What was that?"
"Did I say something?"
"Just now..."
"I mumble to myself when I'm tipsy."
"Hmm?"
The drinking session was drawing to a close.
Thud thud thud thud.
At the sound of stomping outside, Yoram sat demurely, puffing on her pipe.
Tap.
She shook off the fresh ash, carefully refilled it with tobacco, and lit up.
Fwooo.
As she exhaled a long plume, the door burst open and Chief Jong-yeo appeared.
"The branch leader's hunch was right."
"It was definitely him?"
"He clearly said, 'The gift was well received.'"
"A gift, huh?"
Fwooo.
A small table sat before Yoram as she exhaled another long plume.
Atop it rested a severed head, frozen in terror.
"Fwooo."
Exhaling again, Yoram recalled the recent event.
How startled she'd been opening her door to find the lone head.
In shock, she summoned the Oha Jamdo. After the prior incident, they'd been personally dosed with elixirs and trained; no way they couldn't trace someone.
But their report was baffling.
- No one came.
All insisted the same.
So who could slip past the Oha Jamdo's eyes into the deepest part of Haomen's Infinite Branch?
Naturally, only that man she'd met recently came to mind.
"How'd you find him?"
"Well... I don't really know. I just left the branch feeling like I had to go somewhere, and there he was."
"Remember his face?"
Only then did Jong-yeo startle in realization.
"I definitely saw him... but I can't recall his face. He was a grown man, no, a boy?"
Instead of scolding Jong-yeo's rambling, Yoram nodded knowingly.
It was the same for her.
'I definitely saw his face in my memory. But oddly, I can't picture it.'
Yoram had excellent recall.
One couldn't run Haomen's Infinite Branch without a keen eye for people.
Yet the man's features wouldn't surface.
Not everything was gone.
Only the face.
Like a child had scribbled over a canvas called memory, erasing just the face.
She'd checked for curses, but no.
Instead, she heard something else.
From the physician dispatched by the Haomen Lord himself for the Infinite Castle incident.
- Has the branch leader heard of people losing memories from severe shock?
- I've heard of it. Something about unconsciously sealing off memories after unbearable trauma?
- Correct. When facing trauma too great to bear, a mental defense mechanism activates for self-protection.
- What does that have to do with me?
- It's strikingly similar to what you experienced.
- !
- Seems you unconsciously erased memories of him. Less a curse, more... natural.
- Is that even possible?
- Never heard of it myself. Especially for someone as strong as you triggering an instinctive defense from being overwhelmed. Wouldn't believe it without seeing.
An immeasurably profound master.
That was the conclusion.
Snapping from reverie, Yoram exhaled.
"Thought our ties were severed..."
Yet a thread remained?
Even with the calming tobacco prescribed for her composure, her heart raced.
Yoram spoke.
"Jong-yeo. If 'that lord' called it a 'gift,' it means we can dispose of it as we please, right?"
"That's how it sounded."
"Good. Chance to stick the Murim Alliance with a debt and cash in. Not just anyone—'Verdant Blood Executioner.' They can't ignore it."
Of all times, a demonic spy in the Divine Martial Academy. More precisely, a double agent planted by some faction had infiltrated.
Considering the intruder's fame and timing, they could demand gold aplenty—a grave matter.
Yoram eyed the severed head of the Verdant Blood Executioner.
What had this renowned demonic powerhouse seen to die in such terror?
Chill.
Wrapping her shoulders, Yoram added,
"'That lord' said shady flies were prowling Infinite's night streets—plural."
"Not just one."
"Tell the Alliance. Jack up the price and sell the info. And."
Tap.
Shaking off the spent tobacco, Yoram continued.
"Put a bounty on this case under the name 'Dark Venerable.'"
"Dark Venerable...?"
"Can't use his real name."
Pondering briefly, Jong-yeo nodded.
"All that's left in memory is abyss-like darkness and overwhelming presence. Fitting alias. Understood."
Thud thud.
As Jong-yeo bowed and departed, she added as if just remembering.
"Oh. What about the 'small incident' Dark Venerable mentioned?"
For the first time, embarrassment flickered on Yoram's face. Fleetingly.
"Got a big gift, so we should play along with the little prank."
"Understood."
Watching Jong-yeo leave, Yoram lit another pipe.
Fwooo.
Gazing at the dispersing smoke, her eyes delved into past memories.
Through thick haze, bewitching red lips moved.
"Baek Family's downfall. Eldest Young Master Baek Ri-jun-yeo's demonic possession."
And.
"Haomen's traitors."
Normally, this ghostly visitor freely haunting the Infinite Branch should be treated as an enemy.
But she couldn't— the debt of gratitude was too immense.
The Haomen Lord himself had been shocked enough to draw his blade.
Kaifeng's night streets after his visit ran red with blood like streams, they said.
Yoram wondered.
What grand scheme drove the Dark Venerable?
"What monster has this girl fallen for now?"
In her abode, only the silence of the headless Verdant Blood Executioner lingered.
The next day.
Yeom Gwang clutched his pounding head and rose.
"Ugh... Water..."
Thirst burning like fire, he jolted awake.
He wasn't in his quarters but a lavish inner chamber.
Stunned by the opulent room, Yeom Gwang shook the instructors sleeping like the dead beside him.
"Wake up! Hurry!"
"Wh-what is it?"
"Ugh. Where are we..."
As the three roused, the door opened and a neatly dressed old attendant appeared.
"Did you need something?"
"Wh-why are we here?"
"You got thoroughly drunk yesterday and came here. Then had quite the fun."
Eying the scattered bottles— all expensive vintages— Yeom Gwang swallowed hard.
"Th-that... We must've been wasted..."
"We know. You broke two tables and a porcelain piece."
This wasn't good.
Sensing trouble if mishandled, Yeom Gwang pushed aggressively.
"Us? We're esteemed instructors of the Divine Martial Academy. You're not trying to exploit drunk us for personal gain, are you?"
An unexpected response came.
"Please go. Our fault for serving drunks; we won't demand payment."
Sending them off scot-free?
No money?
Something fishy. About to press harder, the old man muttered,
"Can't have rumors of scamming drunks from Chunhong Pavilion."
"Chunhong Pavilion?"
That Chunhong Pavilion?
The top Infinite spot the Gold Hall Master frequented?
Gulp.
'Something's wrong.'
If word spread that Bronze Hall squad leaders stiffed Chunhong Pavilion, a favorite of Murim Alliance notables?
The fallout would be disastrous.
Yeom Gwang's voice trembled.
"Th-that... Sorry for the first-time rudeness. We were out of sorts..."
"It happens."
"We don't have money on us right now..."
"If jianghu folk insist, powerless tavern folk like us can only comply."
"Wh-what do you mean 'insist'?"
Yeom Gwang inwardly wept.
Chunhong Pavilion was infamous for prices matching its fame.
'Damn it, how'd we end up here.'
Alcohol was the true enemy.
"Wh-what now?"
"Heard Chunhong Pavilion's insanely pricey..."
"N-no money."
Seeing the instructors who always bluffed now try to back out, Yeom Gwang ground his teeth.