A Suspicious Newcomer
"At this rate, I probably don't even need to hit Old Man Hwang up."
I muttered as I looked down at the glittering pile of silver coins.
After scraping together every last kidnapping and missing-persons job we could find and taking down the human traffickers, the reward money had piled up nicely. Enough to buy thin noodles with roast sparrow, and even sweets on top—in this barren Central Plains, the chance to taste stewed and roasted dishes with a proper dessert felt downright extravagant.
"Who's Old Man Hwang?"
Jo Harang appeared, chewing on some dry rations, and asked with genuine curiosity.
"He's the boss's master."
Ilhong answered for me from the side.
"……Why would you want to stab your master?"
"That's what I'm saying."
Both women looked at me and shook their heads as if they couldn't make sense of it.
At any rate, we tracked down every remaining child—even the ones without a formal request—and sent them safely home. In case something happened on the road, we delivered each one all the way to their doorstep.
"Ah—children……! Thank you! Truly, thank you!"
The kids Jo Harang had scooped up under her arms and fled with turned out to be disciples of a nearby minor sect called the Chilji Gate. The moment she crossed the threshold, a woman called Madam Jo threw her arms around them and bowed her head in gratitude.
"If not for the chivalry of you great heroes, these children would already be……."
A small orthodox-aligned sect with a long history, though its fortunes had plummeted after the sect leader died of illness a few years ago. She told us she hadn't even been able to hire help—she'd been searching for the children herself, on foot.
"I truly do not know how to repay this kindness, Great Hero."
"It's fine. Your sincerity is more than enough."
Hearing that "Great Hero" still made something flutter in my chest no matter how many times I heard it. Between thrashing the bandits not long ago and this rescue, it felt like I'd banked several months' worth of good deeds in a single stretch.
Kill…….
The Heavenly Killing Star was reeling on the verge of collapse under the endless barrage of virtue. I snorted a laugh at the sight.
"Still, you saved our children. I cannot send you away empty-handed. That would be improper."
Madam Jo drew something from her robes and held it out. The envelope shape made me wave a hand with an easy Eh, put that away—until I looked closer and realized it wasn't money.
A single letter, dragons and phoenixes intertwined across its surface.
"What is this?"
"It is an invitation to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, distributed by the Murim Alliance, Great Hero."
The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering—the grand tournament hosted by the Murim Alliance, where every rising young talent in the martial world gathered so a hero could be chosen. Clan Leader Jo had set out on this long journey just to see it; it was one of the Central Plains' biggest spectacles, drawing every eye and every whisper.
"I've already got one, so you take it."
Jo Harang was already a well-known wanderer, and her sect was orthodox-aligned, so she'd received one of her own. Even so, her eyes sparkled with anticipation at the thought of me competing.
"Every young expert the Nine Great Sects and One Alliance have fattened up on spirit elixirs is going to show up. What good would it do for me to enter?"
Besides, tournaments like this weren't about killing. The killing intent would be thin, which meant I couldn't bring my full power to bear. In short: a lot of suffering for no real payoff.
"I'm not saying you have to win. Just make a splash and your name will spread like wildfire."
With every famous busybody in the world gathered in one place, it was the perfect chance to raise both a personal reputation and a clan's name—that was Jo Harang's pitch.
"She's right, Boss. Even making the top sixteen would bring commissions flooding in, and your moniker would change on its own."
Ilhong piled on. So this ridiculous nickname that even bandits and Haomu Gate agents snickered at could be swapped for something respectable? The more I listened, the more it started to sound worth the pain.
"For reference, Great Hero—the champion receives a chest of gold, and even placing in the top sixteen comes with substantial coin."
Madam Jo drove the final nail home the moment she saw me hesitate.
"I will fight in Chilji Gate's name. Just trust me!"
I snatched the invitation without another word.
Come to think of it, we were headed for the Murim Alliance anyway. It wasn't a life-or-death contest; there was no harm in trying while we were there. And later, if I ever opened a troubleshooter's office of my own, a placard reading "Top Sixteen at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering" would draw more clients than "Cloud Dog Hero" ever could.
"Yes…… if even a great hero can put it to good use…… my late husband would rest easier."
With no one left to enter, the invitation was useless in her hands. Her face turned bitter as she murmured, no doubt remembering what her sect had become.
"If I win any prize money, I'll share some of it."
When someone hands you a chance, repaying them in kind is only human.
"What? Ah—no, Great Hero, I never meant it that way——"
"Refusal refused."
It was a shot at fame and fortune at the same time. Just swallowing it for free felt wrong. And though she claimed she'd given me nothing, that single "Great Hero" had already stuffed me full of good karma.
"I'll see you two months from now, when the tournament ends."
After striking a pose like that, coming back empty-handed would be humiliating. I tucked the invitation deep into my robes and steeled myself just a little.
We crossed the crumbling threshold of the worn-down sect compound. Calming Madam Jo, who kept insisting she couldn't accept any more kindness, took a little extra time.
"Heh heh."
Ilhong had vanished, saying she had business at the Black Market in Kaifeng. Jo Harang walked beside me, letting out one meaningful little laugh after another.
"What's with the creepy snickering?"
My sharp question only made the smile on her lips deepen.
"I'm just in a good mood…… that aura of yours got even denser."
"What aura?"
"……There's just something."
Was she messing with me? Get me curious and then hit me with "there's just something"? Looking back, she really was a strange one. When we first met she'd gone all serious and kept her distance; later she raised her own affection level and started sidling up with that grin. She declared she'd take down the Heavenly Killing Star without even realizing it was right in front of her, and she had a talent for dragging unexpected disasters into our path.
"Mujin, if things go well, we might even face each other at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering."
She toyed with the hilt of her greatsword, looking genuinely excited.
"I'd rather avoid that."
Despite being only two years older, she was a martial artist standing at the threshold of the Peak Realm. Monsters like that were best left alone.
Still, it was odd when I thought about it. Her sect was a small one, from what I'd heard. So why was her progress as fast as the pampered heirs of the great clans, the ones force-fed spirit elixirs?
"No—we absolutely have to fight once. Last time I saw you, that staff technique of yours was no joke."
She pointed at my long Dog-Beating Staff.
Between thrashing a dozen bandits on Danghwi Mountain and taking down the traffickers this time, my Dog Beating Staff Technique finally seemed to have reached the first stage. The half-forced forms beaten into my body had at last found a proper foundation. So the Heavenly Killing Star really did grow stronger on blood and screams? A few more real fights and I might even hit the second stage.
Hwang Geolgae once said that the moment Dog Beating Staff Technique reaches the second stage, you'll naturally be able to pour internal energy into the staff itself.
Pouring internal energy into a weapon outside your body—that was the key to the Peak Realm, the road toward First-class.
"How long have you actually been training, anyway? I heard you only started the wandering life last year."
She was oddly curious about me. Ilhong never dug into anyone's past unless they volunteered it—an unspoken rule from her beggar days that made her easy to deal with. Jo Harang, not so much.
"I only started training in earnest about two years ago, I guess?"
I scratched my chin as I answered. My previous life's self had never touched martial arts, and neither had this body before then.
"Y-you're joking, right? You reached that level of skill in two years? I've been training myself bloody since I was ten just to get where I am……."
"……Obviously I'm joking. Why would you take that seriously?"
Her expression was shaking so hard I walked it back. Thinking about it, martial arts were ultimately the study of beating people to death. There was no way anyone had more talent for that than the Heavenly Killing Star. Every time I complained my progress was too slow, Hwang Geolgae would stare at me like I was out of my mind. Apparently I'd been talking with a full stomach.
"Still, becoming a wanderer at your age means your progress really was fast."
"Something like that."
"Would it be all right if I asked about your sect or your master?"
She could ask, but I still hadn't received official recognition, so naming a sect was risky. If I claimed to be a Beggar Sect disciple and the Beggar Sect itself went, Who the hell are you?, that would be a problem.
"No real sect to speak of. My master's a man called the Divine Wind Daoist."
He'd made enough of a name in Beijing lately that more people knew him. Before that, he'd gone by other monikers.
"Divine Wind? You mean the Bluffing Daoist?"
"Ah, yeah—he went by that for a while."
Back when I'd been locked away in that sealed room, my sister had been the only one who visited and talked to me. She'd told me about an eccentric Daoist who only ever pulled bizarre stunts. Thanks to that, I'd even managed to step on a landmine right in front of the man himself.
"I know him. Our sect trains in Daoist-style internal arts, so one day he just showed up and started demanding we teach him, throwing a complete tantrum."
"……Hmm."
What a public nuisance. Barging into another sect and demanding they hand over their secrets. For the world's sake, stuffing him back into the Beggar Sect might still be the kinder option.
"Hey, where are you from?"
I asked Jo Harang, who could swing that massive greatsword like a storm.
"Me? A place called the Jaha Sect. I trained there before I stepped into the jianghu."
According to her, it was a cozy little sect nestled on Mount Song, greatest of the Five Sacred Mountains.
"Never heard of it."
"Right? That's why I'm planning to make a real showing at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering this time…… Let's both do our best. We'll make our masters' names famous!"
For the record, I had zero interest in making Hwang Geolgae famous. From the conversation we'd just had, the man was already notorious for half a dozen bizarre exploits.
"Sure. Just don't let us end up in the same bracket."
I'd watched her swing that greatsword up close. It was genuinely terrifying. Had anyone ever seen human traffickers get diced into chunks, upper body separated cleanly from lower?
"Got it—we'll meet in the finals, right? Understood!"
No, I'd been saying we shouldn't meet at all.
I patted my still-attached waist and shook my head. Thrilled by the news of my entry, Jo Harang dashed off, declaring she had to go train right away.
"The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, huh."
I glanced down at the antique short blade Moyong Cheonghye had given me. A tournament that gathered every orthodox martial artist under heaven—the Moyong Clan's fighters would almost certainly show up. I'd already confirmed the human-skin mask's performance through my sister, so there was no real reason to panic.
"Guess I'll need a few more scrapes on the way there."
To climb the rankings over that many experts, my martial arts still needed work. At the very least, I wanted Dog Beating Staff Technique at the second stage—and for that, I needed real combat. Or training so steeped in killing intent it might as well be the real thing.
"Never thought I'd miss Hwang Geolgae's half-killing training methods."
The world truly was a mysterious place.
Two days later, we left Kaifeng.
"Kaifeng is such a lively city. Did you all rest well?"
Clan Leader Jo asked us, his face glossy from what looked like a thoroughly enjoyable sightseeing tour of good food and good times. Then he took in our battered appearance and tilted his head.
"Why do you all look so ragged?"
We'd washed out the blood, but fighting dozens of people had left our martial robes torn. Clan Leader Jo and his family stared at us in bewilderment, asking what on earth had happened.
"A lot happened. It was rough, honestly."
I shot a pointed look at Jo Harang, the walking trouble magnet. She scratched her cheek with a sheepish expression, clearly feeling the jab.
"Anyway, our next stop is Shaolin Temple, so prepare yourselves. Ah—before that, there's someone I should introduce."
At Clan Leader Jo's gesture, a young man stepped forward. Neat attire, a pleasant smile at the corners of his mouth, and a presence that was anything but ordinary.
"This is Young Hero Ma Jungcheon, known throughout these parts as the New Wind Hero. I met him at an inn. He's bold and full of chivalry—we became like brothers in no time. Hahaha!"
Apparently some thugs had started trouble at the inn, and this young man had stepped in and sent a handful of third-class ruffians flying like autumn leaves with a few quick flourishes of his hands.
"Come now, Elder Brother—you're embarrassing me. All I did was put down a few drunken troublemakers."
A rising expert with a perfectly respectable moniker, yet somehow overflowing with strange friendliness. Clan Leader Jo, who held status but no real martial power of his own, seemed thoroughly smitten by a famed jianghu expert who praised him and treated him like a close friend. After only a couple of days and a few rounds of wine, he'd cheerfully approved the man's joining as if they'd been lifelong confidants.
"Well then, I look forward to traveling with you. Haha."
He offered us a polished fist-and-palm salute.
"Hey. Who is that guy?"
I nudged Ilhong's shoulder and asked. A martial artist his age with that kind of presence would definitely be in the Haomu Gate's records.
"New Wind Hero. A fist expert active across the Henan region. Four years ago he took down the Ugly Fiend and Yeokgwang back-to-back."
Ilhong explained with that slightly pinched, truth-seeking brow of hers, as if flipping through the wood-wiki in her head.
"Yeah? So he's a big deal."
Both of those had been First-class wanted criminals. For someone with that much skill to casually call himself a younger brother to a civil official after a few cups of wine—the man had nerve to spare.
"But there was something strange about him."
"What? What is it?"
I leaned in. Something shady in the background? Of course. My personal rule that the stronger a martial artist was, the more lawless they became had never been wrong yet.
"According to the notes on the report I saw, this New Wind Hero has about a ninety percent chance of being a Beggar Sect disciple."
"……."
I turned my gaze on the so-called New Wind Hero without a word. As if he'd been aware of me at the exact same moment, our eyes met—and he immediately looked away.
"Well, well."
There was definitely something going on. A Beggar Sect agent hiding his identity and slipping into a sightseeing procession this trivial? That alone said plenty.
Still, now that I knew, it hardly mattered. No matter how carefully a Beggar Sect disciple infiltrated, he never would have imagined that the daughter of the Haomu Gate's leader—our rival organization—was stuck to my side.
And so the nameless Beggar Sect agent who'd slipped in so carefully had his cover blown the moment he arrived.
"Let's watch and see what game he's playing."