Little Tiger Blade
In the main office of the Beijing Vagabond Association, Association Head Gam Un stared down with a deeply serious expression at the painting his subordinate had purchased and brought him.
"Manager Bang, what in the world is this…?"
On a sheet of expensive silk paper, a single doe strutted along with a seductive sway of her hips. He had ordered the man to tour the painting studios, find something worth hanging proudly in the office as both decoration and investment, and instead the fellow had returned with this bizarre piece of a beast.
"This is the style currently in fashion among Beijing's wealthy elite."
Had every rich man in the capital lost his mind at once?
"…This actually sells?"
"Oh, it does, Association Head. It really does."
It was a trend that had recently begun sweeping through Beijing under the name "Beast Charm." The paintings did not satisfy the majority of tastes, but a select minority whose preferences aligned with them spent money without restraint to enjoy the culture. Consequently, every auction house saw the astonishing spectacle of these works setting new record prices each time they appeared.
"I've managed to secure a piece by Neung Jinsam, the most renowned painter in this field. It was no easy feat, I assure you."
Manager Bang held out the beast painting with a look that all but said, Well done, right?
"I will never understand the mental world of men who wield brushes. Is it because I've spent my life wielding blades instead?"
To paint a beast as though it were a person… and what was this indescribable air of coquettish allure about the thing?
"Neung Jinsam, was it? The painter's name?"
"Yes, that's correct."
Examining the blank space on the painting, Gam Un found the artist's seal stamped with the name Neung Jinsam. Come to think of it, there had been a request some time ago asking them to arrange a close look at wild animals, and the client's name had sounded rather similar.
"Fine, whatever… Leave it here."
Gam Un spoke with a full-body shudder, as though he had witnessed something truly grotesque. Manager Bang finished his report and was about to step out the door when something else occurred to him; he turned back to deliver one more piece of news.
"Ah, right, Association Head. A request has come in from the Jo family. It's an escort job, and they say they're going all the way to the Murim Alliance in Shaanxi."
Gam Un scratched at his scar and asked back in mild puzzlement.
"The Jo family? You mean the Jo family head himself?"
"Yes. The same Jo family head you drank with and visited the pleasure houses with last time."
Heading to the Murim Alliance at this particular time of year… Could they be going to watch the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, the event held once every three years? That grand tournament where every rising genius of the Central Plains gathered to compete for supremacy.
"The Jo family head sure has it easy. Some of us are busy every day running the Vagabond Association."
Still, the man was a close acquaintance and a major investor. Gam Un would have to carefully select and assign capable vagabonds. If the gentleman grew disappointed and let his tongue loose even once, Gam Un's own reputation could be shaken in an instant.
"He asked us to recommend one reliable vagabond and a couple of disposable ones he can order around."
Apparently the man had no taste for traveling in a large, noisy group. Fortunately, Gam Un knew just the right vagabond for this sort of work.
"Has Little Tiger Blade returned yet?"
Little Tiger Blade—the nickname given because, though small of stature, the fighter swung a blade like a single ferocious tiger. Already at a young age the warrior had reached the First-class Realm, and driven by dreams of fame and success, accepted every request without refusal. Many eyes were already watching this rising expert. Where such a talented youngster had suddenly sprung from, no one knew, but at this rate another Class-A vagabond might be born within the next ten years.
"Yes. Finished a request not long ago and is resting off the travel fatigue."
Good timing. The reliable slot was settled—assign that one. As for the disposable hands…
"Hmm. What's Dan Mujin been up to these days?"
Gam Un scratched the scar that had started itching the moment he first heard about the request. Even when a job carried an ominous feeling, once that fellow got involved, things somehow always worked out—though Gam Un never understood why. It had been the same with the unpaid-debt collection, the missing-person search, and the medicinal-herb hunt. Of course, the kid always came back fuming and hurled insolent abuse, calling him a "shit-stirrer," but he had succeeded at requests others would have failed. Considering the reputation boost and the certain powerful backer behind the youth, Gam Un could let a little rudeness slide.
"If you mean that entry-level vagabond, he recently made a name for himself by taking down the wanted criminal known as the Poison Demon."
"…What? The Poison Demon? That kid?"
Gam Un flinched in surprise. He knew the name well—a notorious poisoner with a considerable bounty on his head.
"Yes. It happened at an inn. He brought the man down together with the other martial artists present."
That brat always seemed to attract incidents and accidents. Every time Gam Un saw him, the boy was tangled up in something. Still, if he had taken down a Murim Alliance wanted criminal, he would need to head to Shaanxi anyway to collect the bounty.
"But wasn't there also a rumor that he was the one who finished off the Soul-Severing Demon Lord last time?"
"Yes, that's right. The Evil Killing Goddess credited the young man with the achievement, yet the public rumor mill insisted he merely delivered the finishing blow after everything was already decided."
In truth it had been Dan Mujin who fought from the beginning, lured the enemy into a trap that inflicted internal injuries, and drove in the poisoned needles—but common sense held that only someone of the Evil Killing Goddess's caliber could stand as an equal against the Soul-Severing Demon Lord.
"And this time as well, people say he mistook an internal-injury medicine for poison and nearly forced the wrong person into a corner, until someone else discovered the human-skin mask and found the real culprit."
"Ha, is that so? Lucky bastard."
Gam Un had no idea what had actually happened, but from the rumors alone it sounded as though the boy kept missing the mark yet somehow remained mysteriously favored by fortune—like a cow stepping backward and accidentally crushing a rat.
"And so a nickname has attached itself to him, Association Head."
An entry-level vagabond—the lowest rank—already sporting a nickname? Gam Un's eyes widened, then he burst into a hearty laugh the moment Manager Bang explained what the nickname actually was.
"Hahahaha!"
They said the journey to Shaanxi would take at least several months. Preparing for such a long-distance trip kept us hustling for days. The process must have grown unbearably dull for Salsung; the red aura kept poking the tightly bound Poison Demon and drawing the character for "kill" in the empty air, clearly meaning she wanted me to finish him off.
"That's getting old. Cut it out, Salsung."
I spoke toward the fidgeting crimson energy. For the record, "Salsung" was the name I had given her. Ever since she had pointed out the murderer last time and helped me unmask him, I figured she might prove quietly useful in my troubleshooter work, so I decided to name her. Until then I had just called her "that thing," "the weird one," "the red mist," "the blood-red bastard," and so on.
"Well? Do you like your new name?"
As if in answer, the creature scratched characters onto the floorboards.
Dumbass.
Why, you little—
Just as I was about to commit the foolish act of grappling with a formless mist, Ilhong returned from her errand at the Black Market and brought me outside news.
"Boss, Association Head Gam Un is looking for you."
"Me? Why?"
We had a long road ahead and no time to spare. What now?
"He must have heard you caught the Poison Demon. There's an escort request heading to the Murim Alliance, and he suggested you take it on the side while you're going that way."
An escort request… I had never handled that kind of job before.
"Also, they apparently have a cargo cart we can load that guy onto. Accept it and travel in comfort, Boss."
I had originally planned to sling the Poison Demon over my own shoulder the whole way. Renting a horse or cart would have cost a small fortune. I was strong enough, so I had resigned myself to a little physical hardship… but hitching a free ride on an escort procession would be overwhelmingly more comfortable. No matter how much light-footwork and body-lightening arts you learn, people still chase comfort.
"Hmm. Tagging along with an escort convoy isn't a bad idea at all."
If I could freeload and ride in the cart, nothing could be better.
"All right. Pack up, stop by the Vagabond Association, then we leave immediately."
After always dumping shitty jobs on me, for once the man was handing me an efficient request where I could kill two birds with one stone. I was just stepping lightly out of the manor gate when—
"You little brat, don't tell me you forgot this?"
Hwang Geolgae held out the staff I had carelessly left behind in the luggage bag while rushing. The Jiokchammabong.
"Thank you, Hwang… I mean, Master."
The title still refused to sit comfortably on my tongue no matter how many times I said it.
"You're heading to the Murim Alliance?"
"Yes."
"It's a long road and we'll be apart for quite a while, so let this old man offer a word of caution out of worry."
To him I was a bomb that could detonate at any moment, now setting off alone on a long journey. Of course he was anxious.
"If you ever encounter someone carrying a star aura similar to yours, hide your energy as completely as possible and put distance between you. Especially if a fellow swinging a Wolf-Fang Staff appears—run without a second's delay. There's a risk he could expose your true identity."
"…Did something happen back then when you chased after the Wolf-Fang Staff freak?"
"Just remember it, you idiot."
"Yes, yes."
So that was why he had chased the man for so long and returned late. Something had indeed happened.
"And also…"
Perhaps it really was a master-disciple bond. With me about to embark on a distant road, more worries and advice seemed to surface.
"On your way back, buy a jar of good liquor. Xifeng wine would be best if you can manage it."
Damn it. I thought he had come to see me off, but he had only shown up to beg for booze. Xifeng wine—if I remembered correctly—was a specialty of Shaanxi and one of China's four great famous liquors.
"That's expensive."
"You've got money. Isn't that short sword you got worth twenty gold pieces?"
This beggar of an old man. He couldn't even give his disciple anything, yet he was trying to squeeze hard-earned cash out of me?
"That's money I earned myself. I got it by risking my life with martial arts."
"Right. And who taught you those martial arts?"
"…"
Shit. I had nothing to say. Faced with Hwang Geolgae growing utterly serious the moment liquor entered the conversation, I threw up both hands in surrender.
"Fine, fine. I got it."
Truly a beggar through and through. Thinking that he was living up to the name of Beggar King in every way, I set my feet toward the manor gate once more.
"Ah, you're here. Nine-Luck One-Hero."
The moment I stepped into the main office, Association Head Gam Un greeted me with that thoroughly unwelcome title. Yes—that was the first nickname I had earned by thrashing the Poison Demon in front of everyone. Even the vagabonds idly day-drinking on the way here had been tossing the name around. Whoever coined it was a real bastard. They could at least have given me something like "Seven Parts Luck, Three Parts Skill." What the hell was "nine parts luck and one part heroism" supposed to mean? It just meant I was a guy whose fortune was absurdly better than his actual skill.
"Can't you just call me by my name?"
"It's a nickname that finally appeared—how could I? Don't worry, Young Hero Nine-Luck One-Hero."
"Oh, come on."
I had planned to use a nickname as a foothold, spread my fame, and have requests come looking for me on their own. Apparently that day was still far off. The road to independence stretched long ahead.
"But what's that painting?"
I couldn't help asking when my eyes landed on the bizarre artwork dominating one wall of the office. Association Head Gam Un puffed up with pride and explained even though he clearly didn't understand the thing himself.
"You need to broaden your horizons a bit. This is the style currently in fashion among Beijing's wealthy."
"Ah… I see."
So the rich were actually buying this. You finally made it, Painter Neung Jinsam. Something rose hot in my chest—and at the same time a flicker of fear. Had I spread something into this world far too early?
"So, who's this Little Tiger whatever-vagabond going with me?"
"Oh-ho. That face says you're already dissatisfied."
"More people means the pay gets split, doesn't it? Of course I'm dissatisfied."
Ilhong was an investment who would return every coin I shared with her, so I didn't mind. But I had no reason to be friendly toward some vagabond whose face I didn't even know.
"Unbelievable. If anyone should be dissatisfied, it's me."
Yet from behind me came a clear, refreshing voice, and a woman wearing a great blade at her hip strode into the room.