The Great Upheaval
Once the last of the customers had gone, Yang Jeong carried the empty bowls out to the stream to wash them.
Ah…
They were absolutely gorgeous.
The woman called Baek Ha-young and the woman called Yeon Ja-seol were beauties the likes of which the world rarely saw.
Seems like the Murim Alliance is full of gods and goddesses.
Neither Jiang Zhou nor Yang Jeong had ever even laid eyes on the Alliance itself. The escort agencies that did business with the Murim Alliance were almost without exception among the largest in the whole martial world.
"It'd be nice to see the place for ourselves sometime."
He was grinning to himself as he scrubbed the dishes when he suddenly lifted his head—someone was walking through the darkness.
Who's out at this hour?
Unless it was an emergency, no customer ever visited at this time of night. If it truly were urgent business, the man's stride would have been hurried, yet the figure in the dark moved with a strange leisureliness.
Yang Jeong shrugged off the question and bent back to his washing.
"Huh?"
Then, without quite knowing why, he raised his head again and studied the man in the dark. The man's face had seemed far too black.
But the man who had been strolling through the darkness was gone.
Did I see something that wasn't there?
He rubbed his eyes and searched and searched, but the leisurely figure was nowhere to be found.
"Weird. Eh… whatever. Let's just finish these dishes."
"So did you fall for Young Hero Yang at first sight?"
Baek Won-young asked on the way back to the Murim Alliance.
"Fall for him? Who fell for whom?"
Baek Ha-young's voice sharpened, her eyes flashing with indignation. From her reaction alone, it was perfectly clear that she had indeed fallen for the young man.
"I take it you'll be visiting again tomorrow?"
"I told you, I haven't fallen for anyone, Brother. And I have no intention whatsoever of setting foot in that inn again."
Sulking, she darted off toward the Alliance ahead of them.
He watched her retreating figure with a smile.
Next time, I absolutely must swear brotherhood with Jiang. That way she'll have an excuse to visit often.
If Baek Won-young became sworn brothers with Jiang Zhou, then Yang Jeong would become his sworn younger brother as well. Carried along on his pleasant thoughts, he glanced at Ja-seol walking beside him. This time, he was in the mood to tease his junior martial sister.
She seemed to be walking with something heavy on her mind.
But just then, a bleak, chilling sensation crawled up his spine. Startled, he turned his horse with the reins still in hand.
"What's the matter, Senior Brother?"
When Baek Won-young turned, Ja-seol stopped walking as well. A black silhouette was advancing toward them out of the darkness. They could not yet make out his face, but the spear-like weapon clutched in his right hand marked him unmistakably as a man of the martial world.
Baek Won-young's heart suddenly began to pound, and the hand gripping his reins trembled. Startled too, Ja-seol's hand flew to her sword.
And yet the figure in the dark kept approaching with unbearable ease. As the distance closed, his face began to come into view.
Gah—!
Both of their eyes went wide the moment they saw it. The man's face was covered edge to edge in black tattoos, so dense that even his age could not be guessed.
Strolling forward with perfect composure, the man halted his steps and cast his gaze upon the walls of the Murim Alliance.
"Truly, it has been a long time."
His voice was heavy and dark, like something seeping up from a fathomless underworld.
Baek Won-young bowed with the utmost courtesy.
"Whom have you come to see?"
At that, the man turned his head to look at him.
"I've come to see Mundo. Is he inside?"
Mundo? That was his father's name. But he had never once heard that his father had a friend like this.
"Are you a friend of my father's?"
Curiosity flickering across his face, the man studied Baek Won-young's features.
"Come to think of it, you do resemble Mundo a great deal. Are you his son?"
"I am. My name is Baek Won-young."
He bowed again, respectfully.
"I was once a friend of Mundo's. I meant to stop by briefly to give him a message, but I suppose it will do just as well to give it to you."
"If you are a friend of my father's, then please, come inside."
Baek Won-young moved to usher the man into the Alliance—but Ja-seol seized his sleeve. Her eyes blazed.
"Senior Brother. That man is not Master's friend. Not under any circumstances."
"How could you possibly know that?"
As he put the question to her, laughter spilled from the man's mouth.
Kukukuku……
"It seems you have seen one such as me before."
How could anyone forget a face like that?
The man called Jiang Zhou had stood against enemies wearing just such faces—and had cut every one of them down.
Baek Won-young, too, realized that the situation was anything but ordinary.
"Who are you? Reveal yourself."
Yet his voice could not have been more courteous.
"Mundo raised a fine son. We'll be seeing each other again within days, so there's no need to be in such a hurry."
"When do you intend to return?"
Kukukuku……
"Spend the next few days piling up pleasant memories. That way, you'll have fewer regrets."
"What do you mean by that?"
The man turned away without a word. Baek Won-young moved to seize the retreating figure before it vanished into the darkness.
"Wait just a moment—"
Hweeeii…
But the man's form suddenly scattered into the darkness itself. Baek Won-young stared into the night with astonished eyes. Nowhere, in any direction, was there any trace of him.
"Junior Sister. Do you know that man?"
He gripped her urgently.
"I can't claim to know him for certain. But there is no doubt in my mind—he is an enemy."
Baek Won-young ached to press her, question after question, about how she could possibly know such a thing. But now was not the time.
"If you're right, then I must report to my father without a moment's delay. Let's go in."
"I think I saw a ghost while I was doing the dishes, Big Brother."
"What kind of nonsense is this, in the middle of the night?"
What in the world is this idiot babbling about?
When Jiang Zhou snapped at him, Yang Jeong spoke up sheepishly.
"I'm serious, Big Brother! There was this man walking down the road with a face black as pitch, and then he just vanished. In the blink of an eye."
"You saw things."
"You're probably right, Big Brother. Which is exactly why I'm saying this—I think I need a drink to settle my rattled spirits."
"There he goes. I was wondering why you were spouting nonsense at midnight."
When Jiang Zhou raised his fist, Yang Jeong scurried out the door.
But just as Jiang Zhou moved to follow him, he turned his head toward the Stone Bridge. Someone was crossing it, a long spear held in one hand—and the man's face was covered in black tattooed characters.
"See, Big Brother? I told you I wasn't lying!"
Yang Jeong shouted in alarm at the sight of him.
Hweeii…
At the reach of Jiang Zhou's hand, the sword left sitting in the corner came sliding to his grip.
"What brings you here?"
Stepping outside, Jiang Zhou confronted him.
"I heard your cooking is exceptionally fine. Have I come too late?"
Jiang Zhou answered without so much as turning his head.
"Samryong. Light the stove."
The man had come in openly, without climbing any fence—so he was a customer. Yang Jeong slipped into the kitchen and coaxed the dying fire back to life. The man settled himself at the table as though he were the master of the house.
"Only chicken remains—shall I serve it as Chicken Noodles?"
"Chicken, is it. A pity it isn't pheasant, but that will do nicely."
"It will be ready shortly."
With that, Jiang Zhou went into the kitchen.
Tak…! Tak…!
He began pulling the noodles.
The man sat silently at the table, waiting for the food to come.
Tak… tak…!
Through the heavy silence, only the sound of noodle-making could be heard. At last the man, who had kept his quiet, opened his mouth.
"I hear you ignored Yeo Hwa's warning."
Jiang Zhou answered as he dropped the noodles into the pot.
"She climbed my fence without her host's permission. The price must be paid, no?"
Kukuku…
"Well said. Yeo Hwa was too hasty."
Jiang Zhou laid the noodles and chicken in a bowl, ladled the broth over them, and set it on the table. The man picked up his chopsticks and began to eat.
"Splendid. In all my life, I have never tasted Chicken Noodles so delicious."
"Thank you."
He savored the meal slowly, and when it was finished, he looked up at Jiang Zhou.
"I, too, intend to climb a fence without the owner's permission. Will you bar my way?"
"If it were any other fence, I would not concern myself."
The man nodded at his answer and placed a single silver tael on the table.
"My name is Cheolgoe."
"Jiang Zhou."
"Thanks for the meal."
With that, the man turned and stepped over the broken fence. Once he had vanished from sight, Yang Jeong, who had been hovering warily out of the way, crept over.
"Big Brother. What did he mean by what he just said?"
Jiang Zhou turned his gaze toward the distant, unseen Murim Alliance.
"Most likely that he means to climb the Alliance's fence."
"Th…then that's a disaster, isn't it? We have to run to the Murim Alliance right now and warn them!"
Yang Jeong clenched both fists, his face stricken with urgency. But Jiang Zhou did not take it nearly so gravely.
The man called Cheolgoe had felt enormously powerful, true—but the Murim Alliance would hardly crumble so easily. Even if the man came leading an army, Jiang Zhou preferred to trust in the unflappable ease of that Alliance Leader. Above all, the Alliance would almost certainly never believe a complete stranger like him.
"If you're in such a rush, go warn them yourself."
"May I really?"
It was a Yang Jeong utterly unlike his usual self.
"Hey, you rascal. Put half this much effort into fixing the stable sometime."
"Big Brother, the stable is a trivial matter, but this is serious!"
"So long as you don't drag me into it."
"Rest assured. I'll handle everything myself."
Yang Jeong crossed the Stone Bridge at a dead run.
Tsk…
Jiang Zhou clicked his tongue as he watched him go.
Will the Murim Alliance really believe a word that fool says?
"So the man with the long spear claimed to be my friend?"
"Yes, Father. He insisted, beyond any doubt, that he was a friend of yours. But his face was covered in black tattoos, so I couldn't even guess his age."
Baek Mun-do sank into deep thought. In the martial world, the number of men who might call themselves his friend could be counted on one hand. And among them, there was no one who wielded a spear.
No—once upon a time, there had been more than a dozen of them. But every last one had lost his life in the great war against the Blood Cult.
"I wonder if some malicious scoundrel is playing a trick on us."
It was Sin Pung-gae, in the middle of speaking with Baek Mun-do, who offered the remark.
"No, Sect Leader. When I faced that man, my body shook and the chills ran down my skin."
Baek Won-young reported his feelings exactly as they had been. Never once in his life had meeting another man made him tremble and shudder. It could only have been a primal, instinctive fear.
Baek Mun-do, who had been lost in thought, opened his mouth slowly.
"Among my friends, the finest spear master was Jo Bi-ja. But he went missing while pursuing the Blood Cult horde. We found the bodies of the friends who went with him—only his body was never found."
Sin Pung-gae knew Jo Bi-ja well too. The Beggars' Sect's beggars had been mobilized in the search for him, after all.
"Now that's a name I haven't heard in a very long time. Jo Bi-ja the Dashing—they say he was such a master of the spear they called him the Spear Star, and he was very close with the Alliance Leader, wasn't he? The masters who followed him were formidable men, too."
"That's right, Sect Leader. His pride pierced the heavens, and he was every bit as bold as you'd expect."
Jo Bi-ja was a descendant of the Sangsan Jo clan, a family famed for its spear arts. Though not of the direct bloodline, he was born with such natural martial talent that the clan cherished him—yet at seventeen he left home to roam the martial world. Past the age of twenty, he became leader of the vagrant swordsmen, and it was then that he struck up his friendship with Baek Mun-do. For all his bold, roaring nature, he drank little—and his reason for it made a peculiar kind of sense.
"I refuse to become a raving drunk."
Even now, Baek Mun-do remembered his voice as clearly as if it had just sounded. And the man had adored pheasant above all foods.
"A pheasant buries its head the moment it hides, body still in plain sight, can you believe it? That's why I've been hunting and eating the things since I was a boy. Of everything with wings, I reckon pheasant is the tastiest."
Dredging up the past, Baek Mun-do spoke again in a grave voice.
"He said he would return within days, so the watch must be tightened, night and day. And those suspicious figures the Sect Leader spoke of before may well be part of the same band—spare no care in guarding against them."