Shards of the Black Moon
Deep in the Shaanxi branch headquarters of the Orthodox-Sect Alliance, Hong San sat with chopsticks in hand and did not move for a long while. In front of him rested a package that had just been delivered from Mugung Hyeoptak.
On the wrapping, alongside the Baedal-ui Hojok emblem, someone had scrawled what was presumably Yeonhwa’s handwriting: “Thank you as always! I also included some garlic baguette bread!”
When he peeled back the paper wrapping, the gentle scent of butter, the sharp bite of garlic, and the rich aroma of perfectly roasted meat drifted out.
For someone like him, who was usually out in the field, Baedal-ui Hojok was truly a blessing. If he had to rush off again at any moment, he could just carry the whole package with him and eat it on the move—or even place an order from wherever he happened to be.
He did occasionally serve as an adviser to the Orthodox-Sect Alliance headquarters, but he certainly didn’t think of himself as some high-ranking figure close to the heart of power. Of course, if one were to call him a quasi-strategist at the headquarters, then by the standards of the old Martial Alliance, he would rank just below the deputy alliance leader.
Seated across from him was Baek-yeon of the Mount Hua Sect, the Plum Blossom Swordsman. His eyes shone with starlight, softly illuminating his presence like a newly bloomed plum blossom.
“Hmm. You’ve already reached Transcendence? A genius of the ages, you are. Remarkable. The future of Murim is bright.”
Hong San took a bite out of the sandwich bread and murmured in a low voice.
“Thank you, Senior. Though when I look ahead now, all I can see is yet another great wall.”
Baek-yeon said that and picked up his food.
It was the sort of thing he would never normally have touched, and yet he was already crunching away on the garlic baguette Yeonhwa had thrown in as a service item.
“Mugung Hyeoptak... This place is truly strange. It takes people who live by the sword and puts food in their hands instead of blades.”
“That server—Yeonhwa, was it? I’ve come by a few times myself. She’s lively, but sharp-eyed too. And the Western dishes Mugung Hyeoptak serves have this oddly neutral taste in the middle of Murim, where blood and rumors are all tangled together.”
Baek-yeon nodded. A bizarre restaurant, bizarre food, and an even stranger young waitress. At least on the surface, Mugung Hyeoptak seemed like a haven untouched by any faction in the jianghu. Though the spicy food was a little too spicy—his own seemed even spicier, somehow—and on that point alone, it didn’t feel very neutral at all.
Then a bleak wind rattled the paper covering the window.
Hong San’s eyes sharpened. The warmth from the bread he had been chewing had barely faded.
“They’re here.”
Creak—
The door opened, and three men in black stepped inside. They moved with peerless footwork, so silent there wasn’t even the slightest ripple in the air. Even standing beneath the lamplight, a thick shadow clung to their feet like mud.
Executors of Black Moon Hall. No—members of the organization the world simply called Black Moon.
Baek-yeon tightened his grip on the scabbard resting on his knee. Three at Transcendence. Hong San was in Hwa-gyeong, and he himself had recently broken into Transcendence, but those who had piled up killing work like this were terrifying even when facing opponents a realm or two above them. A bead of cold sweat seemed to trickle down near his temple.
The room’s atmosphere turned sharply frigid, and the scent of plum blossoms seemed to curdle into killing intent.
“Hong San, the Orthodox faction’s advance scout, and Baek-yeon of Mount Hua.”
The man in the center spoke.
Baek-yeon relaxed the hand gripping his scabbard just a little.
Good. So they didn’t come here to kill us.
“We were told you had been looking for us.”
Hong San rose slowly, wiping the grease from his fingers with a white silk cloth as he stared at the man.
“We weren’t looking for you. You were the ones circling around us, calling for us.”
At that moment, something slipped from Hong San’s sleeve and struck the table with a soft clack. It was a small jade token. Carved upon it was the symbol of a cold black moon—Black Moon’s mark.
Baek-yeon’s memory stirred at the sight.
The black-clad men who had once stormed Mugung Hyeoptak. The fight that broke out when they ignored the restaurant’s rule forbidding swords from being drawn. The jade token Black Musician had left with Yeonhwa as he departed. That was the token carrying Black Moon’s sign.
So they had followed it? For some reason, they had said a chill emanated from the token. Had it been a signal summoning them?
The Black Moon man tilted his head at a strange angle.
“We are looking for a traitor. You must have seen him.”
“A traitor?”
Baek-yeon’s eyes glinted coldly.
“Black Musician. You know who I mean.”
The one who plucked the seven-string zither and played the flute. The guest who had visited Mugung Hyeoptak not long ago and unsettled everyone’s hearts with his eerie sound-based martial arts, leaving that Black Moon jade token behind.
Hong San said nothing, only looked down at the jade token on the table. It was the object Yeonhwa had quietly tucked into the corner of the delivery box when he had ordered food from Mugung Hyeoptak a few days ago.
Was it really a coincidence that this symbol had been handed to Hong San, one of the most trustworthy men around and someone who could speak, at least in part, on the major affairs of the Orthodox-Sect Alliance headquarters?
“We received word that someone had seen him. And those who helped him as well.”
The man’s gaze landed on Baek-yeon as if he meant to pierce straight through him.
“Black Musician is a traitor? On what grounds do you make such an accusation?”
At Hong San’s question, the man took another step forward.
“He betrayed Black Moon.”
Black Moon.
An organization that had moved only under moonlight, hidden behind the pages of Murim’s history. They gathered information and, when necessary, cut throats without a sound. Neither orthodox nor unorthodox, and yet wielding influence more terrifying than any of them.
As the black-clad men looked at the jade token on the table, Hong San looked at the black moon engraved upon it as well. Moonlight slipped through the paper window and shone over the token’s dark crescent.
“Where did you get this?”
“What use is knowing that? Once it’s in my hand, it’s mine.”
At Hong San’s answer, the three men exchanged glances. In truth, even if Hong San had not answered, that sort of information would already have been in their grasp. That was the kind of organization they were.
“Where did the woman at Mugung Hyeoptak get it? Or did you entrust it to her?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Baek-yeon set his scabbard down on the table with a sharp clack and cut in.
“The men who stormed in back then were only around first-class or second-class level. Does Black Moon mostly send rabble like that? If you’d acted before Black Musician was allowed to wander so freely, wouldn’t that have solved the problem?”
“Those were merely hired ronin. I never expected much from them. They were only scattered to help us track Black Musician’s location.”
Then the man shut his eyes for a moment before speaking again.
“And if we ourselves move carelessly, the balance will be thrown into chaos. Black Moon preserves balance. We do not reveal ourselves unless absolutely necessary, but we do regulate the flow of Murim. Black Musician was our tool. His sound-based martial arts were not meant to kill people, but to alter situations, collapse resolve, and adjust the current—one of Black Moon’s tools.”
“Then what does it mean that he betrayed you?”
“He refused an order to eliminate Cheol-ya, who returned from Manhon Yeon-ok.”
Baek-yeon’s hand clenched around the hilt of his sword.
“Why? Isn’t Cheol-ya someone trying to close the Hyeol-mun?”
“Black Moon does not want the Yeon-ok to close completely.”
The man replied calmly.
“Yeon-ok is not a disaster. It is a massive tool. A tool to control the world, obtain resources, and maintain order through fear. Cheol-ya is trying to destroy that tool. That is why he must be eliminated.”
Silence fell.
Black Moon’s logic was chilling to the bone. No matter how tempting the endless energies within those places might be, no matter how valuable the treasures inside might be, the curses pouring forth while a Yeon-ok remains open are far more vile than that.
These bastards were saying they didn’t care if the world rotted away, as long as they could covet the endless treasures surging from within.
“Why are you telling us this?”
At Baek-yeon’s question, the Black Moon man answered.
“As I said, because if we move ourselves, the balance will collapse. The debts and grudges of Murim run deep. Once one Black Moon begins to act, things will tilt beyond repair. So we’re telling you to hand Black Musician over to us before that happens.”
Black Moon was connected to the orthodox faction, the unorthodox faction, and even the government. If they moved rashly, Murim itself would fall apart.
The Black Moon man stepped back and issued his warning.
“Anyone who sees the musician must hand him over to us at once. Black Moon works beneath moonlight and covers everything that stands in its way with darkness.”
The men vanished just as they had arrived, dissolving like smoke.
Hong San sat back down and looked down at the jade token.
“Mugung Hyeoptak... Young Sir Baek, that place is far deeper than you think.”
“Do you think that young lady really didn’t know? Or did she throw out the bait to make Black Moon and the Orthodox-Sect Alliance headquarters collide?”
Hong San shook his head.
“The Yeonhwa I saw was just a child interested in how crispy today’s bread had come out. But... the Head Chef Elder behind her is different.”
Hong San tucked the jade token back deep into his sleeve.
“We’ll have to find the musician. Before Black Moon’s blade reaches his throat.”
“You intend to find him before Black Moon does? Mount Hua will help as well. At the very least, we need to hear why he refused the order.”
Once again, martial artists gathered at Mugung Hyeoptak.
And with them, conflict gathered as well.
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