Cheonhwaru
A beauty of refined air tapped her chin lightly with her folding fan.
It was a habit Eun Hwaran fell into without thinking whenever she sank deep into thought.
"Noona, when you say 'conditions'…?"
It was a fair sum of money. She clearly wanted something in return for lending it.
I swallowed the snack I'd been chewing and asked.
"Someone I know is in a tight spot right now. They need a skilled expert to help them out… Think you can manage it?"
Looking for an expert meant this was a job that required fists and backbone.
Still—who'd have thought this noona would call on me for muscle instead of silk-farming business? She used to treat me like a kid. Looks like I'd finally become reliable enough as a martial artist too.
"If it's an expert you need, you're looking at him. What's the job, exactly?"
This body of mine had reached the Peak Realm now.
Hwang Geolgae kept telling me not to swagger around just because I'd hit Peak, but what was I supposed to do with all this surging confidence?
I asked what the job was, wearing a face that said I could handle anything.
"A friend of mine's establishment has been booming lately. The competition hired some unorthodox riffraff to run wild and cause trouble."
Unorthodox scum causing havoc. So they were trying to seize the place by force with a pack of thugs, huh?
You barely saw that kind of thing in the modern world with proper law and order, but out here in the Murim it still happened like clockwork.
That was why the great orthodox sects of the Central Plains raked in massive protection fees from all sorts of businesses, after all.
"Did they skip out on protection money or something?"
"Well… originally, our Eunseong Escort Agency was the one protecting that establishment. But as you know, we had that little incident where a whole wave of experts left us all at once."
She meant the affair after the Spring Glory Merchant King collapsed—when a green kid took over as group leader, an escort run went south, and rumors of a cash crunch sent every guest expert bolting for the exits.
They'd been taking potshots ever since Eunseong's influence weakened.
"So I just need to go stand guard, right? Where is this place?"
At my question, Eun Hwaran lightly tapped her fan against her palm and answered.
"A place called Cheonhwaru."
The name rang a faint bell.
That street you always passed where pretty older sisters gathered in droves…
"Isn't that one of the top three houses in the red-light district…?"
Was she seriously asking us to stand guard at a place like that?
"Cheonhwaru doesn't hang red lanterns. It's a blue tower. They sell song, dance, poetry, and refined arts to high-class clientele."
The moment I mentioned the red-light district, she added the explanation as if to clear up any misunderstanding—this was nothing like a common brothel that sold bodies.
In short, a place where Beijing's exhausted high officials came to rest and enjoy some cultured leisure.
"The revenue it brought in was quite handsome. And the pavilion mistress used to whisper us the scraps of information that high officials and merchants let slip while visiting. We made good use of that intelligence more than a few times on our trade runs."
So they'd been close. Eun Hwaran said the connection went back to the previous group leader's time.
And as the old saying went—daytime talk is heard by birds, nighttime talk by flowers. Put a pretty courtesan in front of a man and he starts bragging without meaning to, leaking things he never planned to share.
I understood that well enough.
"Apparently a new courtesan arrived recently and became wildly popular—they're calling her one of the Four Flowers of Beijing. Every customer in the area started flocking there just to catch a glimpse of her face, so the competition finally caused this mess."
According to Merchant Leader Eun Hwaran, the industry's number two had used a famous courtesan to stage a coup, and the number one had answered by mobilizing connections and cash.
"So even that industry fights pretty hard, huh."
"No less than merchants battling over trade. When the money's that good, the competition—and the scramble to secure courtesans—gets vicious."
Women of outstanding beauty who could discuss current affairs and set a man's heart fluttering.
A blue tower that locked down several top-tier courtesans like that could pull in a month's earnings for a mid-sized merchant group in a single day.
Money-soaked clients kept bidding the courtesans' prices sky-high, and the blue towers raked it in with both hands.
"Anyway, that's the situation. So I'd like you—the 'expert'—to go help them out. Think you can handle it?"
She'd clearly heard about my recent breakthrough from Old Man Hwang; she kept stressing the word "expert" with particular relish.
My shoulders puffed up on their own.
"Hmm. If it's just watching the place, it doesn't sound like that hard a favor…"
Especially since the other side wasn't some famous orthodox sect—just unorthodox trash.
I could thrash a few bad guys and rack up some good karma while I was at it.
"Boss, I'm not really into this… Can't we just borrow the money somewhere else?"
Ilhong whispered in a sulky tone, clearly not thrilled with the idea.
"Noona's asking us for help. How am I supposed to ignore that?"
"Hmph. You sure you don't have some other motive? You've got the face of a man about to dive headfirst into a flower garden."
"Ahem. As if."
This body of mine was destined to become a first-rate troubleshooter. I did not pick jobs based on base desires and side benefits.
"We'll see about that."
Ilhong narrowed her eyes and eyed me with open suspicion about my true intentions.
Sad, really. I hadn't raised her to be this way.
"Heh. I'm a little worried myself about sending you. Don't go getting bewitched by all the pretty sisters and blow the investment money."
Eun Hwaran, who had been quietly listening to our exchange, let out a soft laugh and tossed that advice our way.
"C'mon. As if anyone there could be prettier than Eun Hwaran noona. My standards are way too high for that. I'm fine."
"My, this boy… If you can't even speak properly…"
At my sudden compliment she gently unfurled her fan and hid her face behind it.
She said that, but the corners of her mouth were twitching—she didn't seem entirely displeased.
"Boss, lines like that are banned in a blue tower. You're already a total playboy."
"…Misunderstanding. Pure misunderstanding."
It had only been professional lip service, the kind that stuck to you like a second skin.
I soothed the grumbling Ilhong and set out at once for Cheonhwaru.
The warm sun had already passed its zenith and was sinking slowly toward the west.
A woman with a thick white veil draped over her face walked along one of Beijing's main avenues.
She was headed for the glittering entertainment district where the courtesan houses opened their doors in the afternoon and clustered together in one place.
"Will it be all right…?"
Ju Wolay, the rising star of Cheonhwaru, murmured the words as she gazed out at the crowded thoroughfare.
Pavilion Mistress Yeryeong's nagging floated back to her—hire a capable wandering swordsman and never go out without one, just in case of trouble.
But it was still broad daylight, the streets were packed with people, and she had the veil on top of that.
Besides, she had spent a whole month fretting after hearing those warnings, and nothing had happened.
"It should be fine."
So she decided her worries had been needless after all, and privately congratulated herself on how clever she'd been—saving a fortune in bodyguard fees with nothing more than a single veil.
That is, until a pack of rough-faced men burst out of an alley connected to the main road and blocked her path.
"You there—veiled woman. Stop."
"You're Ju Wolay, aren't you?"
For a second she hoped it was chance. Then she realized they had come looking for her on purpose.
Her voice trembled as she asked,
"W-who are you people?"
One of the rough men snorted a laugh and answered.
"Heh heh. Hey—who are we?"
"The Heartless Three Hounds. Gallant heroes come to collect a certain girl."
"Ju Wolay, don't waste your strength. Just come along quietly. There's someone who wants to see you."
The men grinned in a way that made her skin crawl. They looked nothing like gallant heroes.
If anything, they looked exactly like the lawless unorthodox scum the pavilion mistress had warned her about.
"S-somebody help me!"
She immediately shouted for help toward the thronged street.
But the moniker Heartless Three Hounds must have carried real weight around here; the moment people heard it, they scattered in a hurry.
In the blink of an eye the space around her became empty ground—a no-man's-land where not even an ant would dare set foot.
Behind her veil, Ju Wolay's face went blank with despair.
"This girl has zero experience in the jianghu, doesn't she?"
"Well, she grew up spoiled on that face of hers. Makes sense."
"Heh heh. Now that you get the picture, come along before you get hurt."
A brazen street kidnapping in broad daylight.
Everyone watched with pity, but no one stepped forward to face three first-class experts at once.
And yet—there was one reckless soul who walked straight through that tense standoff as if it were nothing, ambling casually between them.
"What's this about?"
Two clean-cut young men strolled past her and the unorthodox martial artists as if they were out for a leisurely walk, glancing around with mild curiosity.
The sheer lack of realism in the scene left the unorthodox pack frozen for a beat.
"Who the hell are you, you little bastard?"
"Me? Just a passerby."
It was a perfectly accurate answer to the question.
At that serene reply—which suggested he had no grasp of the situation at all—the man who'd asked bristled and started to charge.
"Hey. Better just let him go. We only need the girl."
The oldest of the Three Hounds, unsettled by the youth's complete lack of fear, suggested they send him on his way just in case.
With a sour look, the rough-faced man jerked his chin for them to get lost already.
"P-please help me, young hero!"
Seeing that, Ju Wolay threw herself at the youth like a drowning woman clutching at straws.
She yanked aside her veil, seized his wrist, and pleaded with a desperate face.
"Help with what? I'm busy—I've got somewhere to be."
Normally, the moment she showed her face and asked a favor, every man within earshot melted and did whatever she wanted. The youth in front of her just looked thoroughly unimpressed.
"…Those men are trying to kidnap me! Please, young hero, help me!"
Judging by looks, he was maybe fourteen or fifteen.
The two green youths carried nothing but a single long staff between them, but right now she had no other options.
If they could just buy her a little time, word might reach Cheonhwaru and give her a chance.
"For free?"
"…Excuse me?"
So this wasn't the entrance of a righteous gallant after all.
"Tch. You are ridiculously pretty, though."
"Uh, Boss…?"
"But I, Dan Mujin, am a man whom beauty strategies do not work on… No—I've built up a resistance. Even if you're a beauty, you've got to give something in return."
What a strange person.
After only a few exchanges, Ju Wolay picked up on that at once.
At the same time, the sheer overflowing confidence in him made her wonder if he might actually have something to back it up.
"I-I don't have anything on me right now."
She always left anything of real value at the courtesan house where she worked, so at the moment she had nothing precious.
"Nothing at all?"
A faint shadow of disappointment crossed his face.
In a panic she dug something out of her robes.
"Th-there's one piece of candy… if that counts?"
Once she arrived at the house she would be put under strict weight management, so she had wrapped a single piece of candy in cloth and stashed it in her clothes to eat on the way.
"Hmm. And I, Dan Mujin, am a man who rarely turns down food."
"Boss, can you do something about that way of talking? It's gotten worse since your breakthrough."
The two youths bickered right in front of her with zero tension in their bodies.
"Hand it over."
He grinned, popped the candy she offered straight into his mouth, muttered something about having received an advance payment, then drew the long staff from his back and stepped forward.
He spun the staff in both hands with a sharp whir and fixed the unorthodox men with a cool stare.
"This is called the Hell Vengeance Staff. Specialized for thrashing human garbage like you."
The men snickered at the cheap provocation and began closing the distance, surrounding him.
With a metallic shiiing, the Heartless Three Hounds drew blades far more menacing than any staff.
"Arrogant little brat. Your guts have spilled clean out of your belly."
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
They glared as if they meant to kill him and demanded his identity.
"Troubleshooter Dan Mujin."
As he spoke, the youth thrust the tip of his staff forward with a sharp snap.
And from that unremarkable-looking staff, a cold blue aura began to seep out, thick and slow.
They had been approaching with swaggering confidence—until they saw that blue energy. Then their eyes flew wide open.
"The guy who beats dogs that aren't even fit to be called dogs."
From Dan Mujin's fingertips, the spirited Dog Beating Staff Technique began to unfold.