Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Entering Silver Hall (2)
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“Huuuuh. Let's go.”
The tense Squad Leader Yang took several deep breaths before finally stepping inside.
He then headed to the platform in front of the training ground and clasped his fists toward the instructor standing at the forefront among those lined up.
“Greetings, Hero Jang.”
“Well, if it isn't Nine Hundred Iron Fists Yang Dae-cheol. You're the one leading the instructors?”
“Squad Leader Yeom Gwang met with an unfortunate accident. Lacking as I am, I've taken over as squad leader.”
“If a man like you, Nine Hundred Iron Fists Yang Dae-cheol, can't handle the position, then who could?”
Unexpectedly, Squad Leader Yang seemed to have some rapport with Silver Hall's instructors.
- That's Upper Instructor Hero Jang Cheol-sim.
Yeo Mae-hong's whisper in his ear made it itch.
“Hero Jang Cheol-sim?”
“A young swordsman representing the Qingcheng Sect.”
“Qingcheng Sect?”
The instructor's uniform, maintained with near-obsessive cleanliness, and his haughty air stood out. So he was from the Qingcheng Sect.
The nine pillars upholding the Murim Alliance.
Among the Nine Great Righteous Sects, the one renowned for its swordsmanship was the Qingcheng Sect.
'Doesn't look like he has a good personality.'
He gave off the vibe of a rigid righteous faction archetype come to life.
And his face?
A hooked nose and unusually narrow, small eyes made him look incredibly prickly.
'What an annoying mug.'
And sure enough.
His half-lidded eyes swept over them before he spat out a remark.
“Tch. Is this the level of Bronze Hall?”
This bastard...
“I see.”
Squad Leader Yang bowed low to him as he clicked his tongue again.
“Hero Jang. These are volunteers here to assist Silver Hall. Please show them some courtesy.”
“Courtesy? I'd naturally extend it to talent worthy of the position.”
“...That means.”
Ignoring Squad Leader Yang, Jang Cheol-sim hopped down from the platform and approached the stiffly standing instructors, hands behind his back, appraising them like livestock. He stopped in front of one.
“Your name?”
“Jo, Jo Hyeon, sir!”
“Your sect?”
“Seongjin Sword Sect.”
“Never heard of it.”
Coldness crept into Jang Cheol-sim's voice, as if his interest had evaporated instantly.
'So that's what he meant by looking down on origins.'
What a picky guy.
Jang Cheol-sim proceeded to ask each instructor about their sect, repeating his tongue-clicks.
As time passed, the Bronze Hall instructors grew colder.
Their spirits were crushed.
Then, stopping before Yeo Mae-hong, Jang Cheol-sim tilted his head.
“You look familiar. Don't you?”
“Uh... th-that...”
“I remember you as a student under Instructor Eun Hae-wol. Does that ring a bell?”
“Y-yes, that's right.”
As Yeo Mae-hong squeezed her eyes shut and answered, a sudden warmth bloomed on Jang Cheol-sim's previously icy face.
“Haha. A student of Instructor Eun. So the little kid's grown this much? Looks like you've mastered the Gale Eight Swords now.”
“Y-yes.”
“Instructor Eun would've been so proud if he were still alive.”
Surprisingly, Jang Cheol-sim remembered even the fine details.
From the looks of it, he was the type to show some interest to those who met his standards of 'worthy'.
The problem was how subjective that 'worthy' bar was.
“Nothing special.”
“Was there even a sect like that?”
“Tch. No expectations from you going forward.”
After relentlessly judging them, Jang Cheol-sim finally stopped before him.
His thin, elongated eyes narrowed sharply as he examined Chu Un-hwi.
“Squad Leader Yang.”
“Yes, Instructor Jang.”
“Does Bronze Hall now hire children as instructors?”
“N-no, of course not!”
As Squad Leader Yang floundered, Chu Un-hwi stepped forward.
“Twenty-five years old. Chu Un-hwi. Prime marriageable age for an instructor, right?”
“......”
“Look at this seasoned face and call me a child?”
Are those eyes buttonholes?
Mindful of the instructors' earlier pleas, he held back the last line.
“......”
“......”
“......”
Chilly.
But for some reason, the surroundings had gone quiet.
And Yeo Mae-hong sidled up, poking his side repeatedly.
Fellow instructors shot him odd looks or mouthed silent curses.
'What? Why?'
As they mouthed insults again, Jang Cheol-sim, clearly offended, pressed on.
“You don't seem nervous at all.”
“What's there to be nervous about? Just do your best.”
“Such confidence. May I ask your sect?”
As if he'd asked permission.
Chu Un-hwi answered curtly.
“Pure Sword Sect.”
“As expected, nothing noteworthy...”
“It's a backwater sect in the boonies, yeah.”
“...Is it?”
“Even has a talented guy like me, so you might've heard the name occasionally. Otherwise, you'd never know it existed your whole life.”
“I... see.”
“Honestly, why name a sect something as generic as Pure Sword Sect?”
“......”
“Naming skills are mediocre at best, but the real tragedy is their investment sense. Buying real estate in some remote mountain hollow? Sane? Probably got duped, bought it, then later realized and cried alone under the covers.”
Once more, Jang Cheol-sim was struck dumb.
Watching this, Silver Hall's instructors began murmuring.
“That guy's got no fear? Joking in front of Instructor Jang?”
“Nah. Look at his eyes—he means it. Not your average blockhead.”
“We knew Bronze Hall's standards were low, but this bad?”
It was harsh criticism that left the Bronze Hall instructors too ashamed to lift their heads.
Even the bored students, who had been standing around indifferently, started chattering.
“Kekeke. What's with that instructor?”
“From some no-name sect, but guts hanging out his belly.”
“Thinks he can lord over us as an instructor?”
“Heh. Kill him? Nah, better make him cry and run home on his own.”
The eerie silence broke only after a while, when Jang Cheol-sim regained his composure.
“A punk like you.”
But his belated anger had no chance to erupt.
Dokgo Yul, leading a group of students, had arrived.
“What's this? Greetings still not done?”
No matter how proud Jang Cheol-sim was as a Qingcheng Sect expert, he couldn't stand against the question from Dokgo Yul, the One-Eyed Divine Sword, the era's most spotlighted supreme master.
“...No. We just finished.”
“Good. We'll see each other often, so let's leave it at this for first impressions and talk later.”
“...Very well.”
Suddenly spotting the four students following Dokgo Yul, Jang Cheol-sim tilted his head.
“Bronze Hall students... what brings them here? Normally, each hall's students...”
“Ah, no worries. Got permission from Silver Hall Master.”
As Dokgo Yul explained briefly, Jang Cheol-sim furrowed his brow.
“Assistants, you mean?”
“Exactly. Assistants aiding instructors can follow regardless of academy divisions.”
He knew the rules.
But how could mere Bronze Hall rookies possibly help teach Silver Hall students?
'This is a mess.'
Jang Cheol-sim's eyes gleamed sharply.
“Which instructor requested assistants?”
“Right in front of you. Instructor Chu Un-hwi. First time meeting?”
“This guy.”
Grind.
Gnashing his teeth, Jang Cheol-sim nodded curtly.
“Understood.”
“Take good care of them. They're quite promising.”
“Of course.”
After the first meeting ended, Silver Hall's instructors made no effort to hide their discomfort.
They poured out their grievances to the silent Jang Cheol-sim.
“Instructor Jang. Will you let this stand?”
“Half-baked martial artists teaching? Who?”
“Their talent and background are far too lacking to lead Silver Hall students.”
“Agreed. This only lowers our hall's prestige.”
As they babbled disjointedly, Jang Cheol-sim finally spoke.
“Judging before it even starts?”
They flinched.
The instructors, red-faced from their tirade, shrank back.
Pity filled Jang Cheol-sim's eyes as he regarded them.
“I opposed bringing in Bronze Hall instructors the most. You stayed quiet then, and now you complain?”
“Th-that's...”
“I'm unhappy with the Hall Master's decision too. But it's settled. As honorable instructors, I won't tolerate whining about a done deal.”
This wasn't about accepting them.
It was about upholding the dignity of a prestigious righteous sect disciple: keep promises, embrace boldly, and move forward.
Jang Cheol-sim spoke sternly.
“We all know Bronze Hall instructors are mediocre.”
“But since we've agreed to work with them for a while, think about guiding and reforming their shortcomings before dismissing them.”
“If skill lacks, awaken it. If ability is low, fill it. Isn't that straightforward?”
“What good is it if inheritors of great sects' teachings yap like street thugs?”
His words, laced with obsessive propriety, made the instructors bow their heads.
“We were rash.”
“Should've thought of guidance first.”
“Failed to generously share our prestigious teachings.”
His expression softened slightly at their responses.
“Good that you understand. Don't forget we must set an example for all.”
As he rose to end it appropriately, a quiet instructor raised his hand.
“Instructor Jang. But what if reformation proves impossible?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do we really need to lead those unworthy of teaching?”
“Did you not hear...”
As a certain face flashed in his mind, Jang Cheol-sim trailed off, and the instructor eagerly continued.
“I get your noble intent. As fellow righteous faction members, however lacking, it's our duty to lead. But not everyone can be reformed.”
“...You mean.”
“He treated my sect like roadside dog shit. If that flippant attitude toward sects influences the young students, what then?”
Mocking sects.
For Jang Cheol-sim, with his prestigious sect pride, it was utterly unacceptable.
“...What are you getting at?”
Mistaking his softening for agreement, the instructor replied quickly.
“Rotten apples must be culled. Leaving them beside good ones just rots the whole batch.”
“Hm...”
It sounded plausible.
Honestly, appealing too.
That guy had grated on his nerves from the start.
Still, Jang Cheol-sim felt instinctive revulsion.
Judging people by mood ill befitted a prestigious disciple's dignity.
'Cheap for cheap just drags you down to their level.'
Collecting his thoughts, Jang Cheol-sim sharpened his gaze.
“Judging character by first impressions is rash.”
The young instructor deflated at the icy words.
“Observe. Then judge. Evaluations can wait.”
How to evaluate?
His cornered addition drew a smirk from Jang Cheol-sim.
“Figure it out yourself. Aren't you a jianghu senior?”
Brushing his sleeves as if wiping off filth, Jang Cheol-sim exited the hall.