Dan Mujin's Return
Escorted out of the Imperial Palace by Consort Yang and her retinue with warm farewells, I made my way toward the gates.
The Third Prince peeked out from behind the head lady-in-waiting’s skirt and waved his small hand at me.
I was about to wave back and keep walking when his soft voice reached me.
“B-Beijing’s troubleshooter…”
At that faintly trembling voice I turned. After watching me pull off one feat after another right in front of him, the distrust that used to cloud his eyes was gone. If anything, a hint of admiration now lingered there.
“Is there something you wished to say, Prince Suan?”
I asked him with formal courtesy. Right now he was just a dejected boy, but he might one day become the Crown Prince—or even the Son of Heaven. No harm in buying low and making a good impression early.
“How… how does one charge ahead the way you do…?”
“…”
Charge ahead? The way he phrased it made it sound like I handled everything without a second thought, pure reckless blundering.
Well, he’s not wrong… you idiot…
I ignored the red thing’s opinion and looked steadily at the Third Prince.
“Prince Suan, what exactly do you mean by ‘charge ahead’…?”
“You always put your will into action without the slightest hesitation, do you not? Without any fear. I am curious about the secret of that confidence.”
Bound by palace etiquette, the dignity expected of a prince, and the crushing weight of being a candidate for Crown Prince, this young royal had lived a life sealed tight by every constraint. To him, the way I moved must have felt like a fresh gust of wind.
“Hmm, if you ask me for the secret…”
I scratched the side of my head, not sure what to say.
“This guy just moves his body before his brain, Your Highness.”
Jo Harang cut in first, bold as brass.
“Jo Harang, you little—”
“What, am I wrong?”
“You’re sort of right, but still.”
The “me” who had already died once and no longer feared anything, fused with the “me” who had been crushed under the Moyong Clan’s oppression—Dan Mujin no longer gave much of a damn about other people’s opinions. And with a murderous star nestled in my skull that kept trying to resurrect whenever I left it alone, I had no choice but to charge forward without looking back.
“Well, if you think too much, you hesitate at everything. Act first, worry later.”
I tossed out a reasonably plausible piece of advice and walked out of Consort Yang’s palace.
Even as I crossed the threshold, the Third Prince still wore a solemn expression, turning my offhand words over and over in his mind. Why he was chewing on something I threw out without thinking, I had no idea.
“Eh, what’s the worst that could happen.”
I shrugged and stopped before the heavily guarded gate that marked the boundary between the Imperial Palace and Beijing. The same golden-armored gatekeepers I had run into last time.
“Well, keep grinding those shifts.”
I waved once, just like before, and prepared to leave the palace completely behind.
At that exact moment I came face-to-face with a figure passing near the palace gate.
The gatekeepers who had been staring at me with blank faces suddenly sucked in sharp breaths—that was how overwhelming her presence was.
“Hmm.”
It was none other than the current Crown Prince’s mother, Empress Gahwiryeong, looking as frail and ailing as ever.
A cold-faced woman who had plastered on thick white powder to hide her fine wrinkles. She swept me once with eyes sharp as frost, then flicked an eyebrow and walked straight past me.
The encounter was brief, yet a chill ran down my spine. A strange mania flickered in those eyes.
You’ve… been marked…
Salsung must have sensed the faint killing intent directed at me as well; the red palm twitched and spoke.
“Shut it.”
This thing really loved other people’s misfortune a little too much. And since it had no physical body, I couldn’t even smack it.
“Huh? What’d you say? Why me?”
“Wasn’t talking to you. Let’s go, Harang.”
And so Jo Harang and I finally left the eventful, troublesome Imperial Palace completely behind.
I returned to the old, cramped troubleshooter’s office on the outskirts.
It was a stark contrast to the splendor of the palace, but it was still a workspace full of people I was fond of.
Yet when I opened the door, the Ilhong I had expected to greet me warmly was nowhere to be seen. Only a large sheet of paper lay on the desk.
The second you see this, get your ass to the merchant group right now.
If you wander off anywhere else, there won’t even be soup left for you.
A message from Hwang Geolgae, written in large brush strokes that practically radiated quiet fury—more threat than note.
“Harang, how about the two of us just run far away?”
I tossed out the joke lightly. Jo Harang made a strange face.
“…Appreciate the thought, but the Beggars’ Sect is everywhere under heaven. They’d catch us in no time.”
A fair point. I nodded and obediently headed for the Eunseong Merchant Group.
If I found Sister Eun Hwaran first and stuck her by my side, at least he wouldn’t beat me too badly… or so I thought as I crossed the threshold of the merchant group. Ilhong was waiting and welcomed us with open arms the moment she saw us.
“Boss!”
That familiar voice after days apart. I caught her as she came flying at me and spun her around once like a scene out of a movie.
Seeing us loaded down with all the gifts and baggage we had received from the palace, Ilhong asked what on earth had happened and what kind of haul we had brought back.
“A whole lot happened.”
Too much to summarize easily. But the spoils were equally substantial.
First, Cheon Su-gong had paid not only the advance but the remaining balance he had promised, so my pack currently held ten gleaming gold ingots. On top of that, Consort Ma Zhuying had given me an Imperial Jade Token, telling me to use it if I ever ran into trouble with court affairs. It served as proof of identity and protection under her authority—so long as I didn’t accidentally step into the Empress’s sphere of influence where Consort Yang’s reach didn’t extend, it would give my troubleshooter work a serious pair of wings.
In short, I had come back with both money and powerful backing.
“But Boss, what’s that black staff?”
Ilhong, who had been listening to my explanation with wide eyes, pointed at the weapon I was carrying on my back, curiosity sparkling.
After days apart she had come right up to my face, eyes bright as she asked.
“This? A gift bestowed by the Son of Heaven. Said it came from the Heavenly Treasure Pavilion.”
I unslung the gifted staff and handed it to her.
Ilhong carefully examined the smooth surface, the engraved patterns, and the material.
“I heard it was made from some kind of wood that’s grown nearly a thousand years and is hard as steel…”
The moment I spoke, Ilhong clapped her hands as if she had it.
“Then it must be Ironwood! Surprisingly light and easy to handle, yet hard enough to rival iron—an extremely rare material even in the Central Plains.”
As expected of Ilhong, who knew everything except the things she didn’t. In metal terms, it was a wooden material ranked somewhere past Hundred-Refined Fine Steel and into the realm of Mysterious Iron. Looks like I had obtained a truly precious treasure.
“So this is basically a treasure sword… wait, since it’s a staff, a treasure staff…?”
I always thought anything with “staff” stuck in front of it just sounded weird. Sword qi or saber qi sounded cool, but staff qi somehow made me think of overthrowing the country.
“Who cares? It’s just cool.”
Ilhong giggled at my muttering.
I grinned and gave the end of the staff a slight twist.
“Watch carefully. This black staff has this function too.”
Shhhhing.
When I pulled on the grip, a razor-sharp blade slid into view. The black staff’s entire presence flipped in an instant.
Startled by the keen edge that looked ready to slice through steel, Ilhong looked up at me.
“Boss, what is this? Why is there a famous sword inside a staff…?”
“Beats me. It was just in there. Ever heard of a treasure like this?”
Even Ilhong, who supposedly knew every rare herb, spirit beast, expensive treasure sword, and precious object in this world from her days in the Haomu Gate, shook her head.
Shhhk, click.
If she didn’t know, nothing I could do. I sheathed the blade back into the staff with a faintly disappointed look.
“Still, why did the Son of Heaven give me a staff of all things? Not a bladed weapon, but a staff.”
“…Because you’re the disciple of the Beggar King, you damn brat!”
Thwack!
A blow came out of nowhere and cracked me right on the crown of my head. Pain exploded behind my eyes; I couldn’t even scream as I shot up like a frog.
“Gyaaah! You old bas—”
“What’s that gibberish, you little punk? You’re not a baby—stop babbling.”
“…You damn old man.”
Only then did he seem to understand me. The old man snorted and stroked his grizzled beard like a proper Daoist.
Hwang Geolgae—my master, an object of love and hate almost on the same level as Salsung.
“The Heavenly Treasure Pavilion is packed with weapons. The fact that you came back with a staff of all things… Haah. Looks like your identity’s already been blown wide open.”
I had gone in wearing a sword, yet I had received a staff that looked suspiciously like a beggar’s staff. Hwang Geolgae muttered that Emperor Hongrak must have recognized me as the disciple of the former Dragon Head Sect Leader.
“Ugh, I didn’t do anything that would’ve given me away.”
I rubbed the top of my head and answered irritably.
“Doesn’t matter if you did or not. Anyone who can see through that eerie murderous star of yours will see right through you. That’s why I told you not to meet him face-to-face.”
From the first moment our eyes met, something had felt off. So he had known my identity as an Eastern Depot agent from the very beginning and had simply been watching for his own amusement ever since.
That was a little terrifying.
“And you damn brat—what happened to the iron sword I gave you?”
Seeing me return with only the staff, Hwang Geolgae demanded to know what I had done with the sword.
“It cracked, so I ditched it. Got caught in an explosion. Must’ve taken a hit from shrapnel while I didn’t have sword qi wrapped around it.”
Unlike this black staff, that one had been an ordinary iron sword, so the fact that it had lasted this long was already impressive.
“You little… Your master gives you something and you just coldly toss it aside?”
“It was just a regular iron sword distributed by the Eunseong Merchant Group anyway.”
“…True enough, heh heh.”
Old man and his need to take credit. Of course, that ordinary iron sword had taught me a great deal. I had learned that the Heavenly Killing Star didn’t just let me predict where an enemy’s murderous intent was aimed—it also gave me the ability to commit murder more easily. Specifically, the power to cut along the grain of things. Thanks to that, I had saved my life once in front of a jiangshi, so it had done its job.
“But listen. Not long ago while I was drinking tea with Merchant Lord Eun Hwaran, we heard a huge explosion from the direction of the palace. That didn’t have anything to do with you, did it?”
He clearly didn’t care about the iron sword anymore and asked what he had actually been curious about. His mouth said “nothing to do with you, right?” but his eyes were already full of suspicion.
So I puffed out my chest and answered firmly.
“No, sir! Completely unrelated!”
If you’re going to lie, do it with absolute confidence and a clear conscience.
Hwang Geolgae looked like he didn’t buy it and turned a pressuring gaze on Jo Harang standing beside me. Ever since her identity as the Purple Micro Star had been exposed, the relationship between the two of them had been a little delicate.
“N-nothing happened.”
Apparently finding his stare too much, Jo Harang flicked her eyes sideways and even stammered. I clicked my tongue inwardly.
She really had no talent for lying. How could she sound that awkward…
Thud!
“Ghk!”
The moment I thought it, I got smacked on the head again. This time, though, I had anticipated it and wrapped myself in internal energy, so I didn’t have to roll across the floor like before.
Feeling the strong rebound in his hand, Hwang Geolgae let out a hollow laugh and looked at me.
“All right, spit it out in detail. I won’t hit you anymore.”
Even though Consort Yang had suggested I stay an extra full day to recover, the outside of the palace still seemed quiet, completely in the dark about the noise. Palace affairs apparently didn’t leak out easily. They must have clamped down hard on the mouths of everyone who saw it. Emperor Hongrak was definitely competent.
“Short version: I won a martial arts tournament in front of the Son of Heaven, and a thunder bomb went off in front of Consort Yang.”
The first had been an incident I got dragged into by the Emperor’s whim; the second had been a major disaster entangled in what I suspected was a conspiracy of pure madness by the Empress.
Hearing my story, Hwang Geolgae slapped a palm over his face.
“You just jumped straight into the middle of the imperial power struggle and came back, you damn brat.”
His voice was a mix of a sigh and pure disbelief.
“Well, one thing led to another… Master, why are you raising your fist?”
I said it with an aggrieved look. He had clearly promised not to hit me a second ago.
“Just like you lied to your master, this old man decided to try lying once himself.”
“Oh, for fuck’s—”
Before I could even finish the curse, Hwang Geolgae’s fist cut through the air. I instantly pushed Seonpungbo to its absolute limit and twisted my body out of the way.
Just like that, the inside of the merchant group turned into a chase stage in the blink of an eye.
After the brief chaos, I stepped into the merchant lord’s office and was greeted by Sister Eun Hwaran, worry written all over her face.
“Mujin, are you all right? Your face looks…”
She started to ask who had done this, then spotted the lump on the crown of my head, realized whose handiwork it was, and covered her mouth with her fan with a soft “Ah.” The corner of her mouth peeking past the edge of the fan twitched slightly—apparently the sight of me coming back beaten every time was a little entertaining.
“Heh heh. You’ve gone and caused more trouble again, little brother.”
Eun Hwaran’s voice carried a mix of mild teasing and pity.
“Why does everyone just assume I caused trouble, Sister?”
Even she was saying it. I shook my head and walked into the office.
The furniture and decorations were as neatly arranged as always. A sense of calm settled over me like coming home, and at the same time a strange tea fragrance I had never smelled before brushed my nose.
“Oh, right, Mujin. You have a visitor.”
I lifted my head, curiosity rising.
“Who’s the visitor?”
Come to think of it, Hwang Geolgae had mentioned there was a guest here as well.
At my question, Sister Eun Hwaran, who had been enjoying the fragrance of new tea leaves, called someone into the room.
The door slid open and a woman entered, long hair swaying.
“…Huh, Ju Wolay?”