Chapter 201
Chapter 201
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 57
>Chapter Title: Water Ghost (2)
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-Shooooaaa!
The downpour was still relentless.
The village near the river was called Little River Village.
Though called a village, it was quite sizable for the area due to the ferry landing, home to around 150 boatmen and fishermen.
The village itself operated the ferry, so it hugged the river's edge.
"If the river rises any more, a few houses are gonna get swept away."
On the way into the village, Seop Chun clicked his tongue.
As he said, they'd piled up an earthen embankment, but with the crashing current, it could give way any moment.
Unlike Seop Chun, who looked worried, Mok Kyung-un and Mong Mu-yak showed no interest.
Mong Mu-yak's mind was solely on finding the owner of that large boat, while Mok Kyung-un ignored anything unrelated to himself.
That said, one thing caught Mok Kyung-un's eye.
'Hmm.'
It was an elderly man with white hair, dressed in mourning clothes, sitting at one end of the precarious-looking embankment.
The odd sense of incongruity drew his gaze—what was that old man doing there?
With the furious rain and raging waters threatening to collapse the dam any second, it made no sense.
Looking closer, he spotted a bent bamboo pole in front of the old man.
Mok Kyung-un tilted his head.
'Fishing?'
No way was he fishing in this storm.
It was incomprehensible.
Though puzzled, Mok Kyung-un soon lost interest and turned toward the village.
But just as he started to walk away, he halted.
'......What?'
He'd meant to pass it off without a thought, but something felt off.
No matter how fierce the rain, he was the most sensitive to presences.
Yet he hadn't sensed any energy from that old man at all.
It was as if he'd blended seamlessly into the surroundings.
-Swish!
Mok Kyung-un turned back toward the embankment.
But,
'!?'
The old man who'd been there moments ago had vanished.
Scanning around just in case, there was no trace—as if he'd never existed.
Puzzled, Mok Kyung-un sent a transmission.
-Cheong Ryeong. Did you see that old man just now?
-Old man? What old man?
-The one sitting on the embankment, fishing or something.
-Fishing? In this weather?
-......
-Saw something?
-......No. Must've been my imagination.
Even Cheong Ryeong, with her clear line of sight, hadn't noticed.
Had it really been a hallucination?
"My lord?"
Seop Chun called out curiously to Mok Kyung-un, who had stopped.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Shrugging it off, he resumed walking.
The three passed the village stele reading "Little River Village" and entered.
-Shooooaaa!
With the heavy rain and encroaching dusk, the streets were deserted.
Mong Mu-yak glanced around and said,
"Someone with a boat that big must be one of the wealthier folks or a prominent family in this village."
"Obviously."
Seop Chun sniped back.
Mong Mu-yak glared, irritation plain.
As the two growled at each other, Mok Kyung-un nodded toward a spot.
"There's an inn over there."
"Ah!"
Not far from the entrance stood an inn—perfect.
Better to ask around there than barge into random houses.
Cutting through the rain, the three entered.
Their sodden leather shoes squelched as they stepped inside, revealing a shabby, worn interior.
Yet despite the state of the place, it was crowded with guests.
Likely outsiders stranded by the days-long downpour.
-Thud thud!
As they entered, the patrons' eyes briefly turned to Mok Kyung-un and his group.
Even in mourning clothes, the swords at their waists and backs drew natural suspicion.
But it wasn't just the guests reacting.
Seop Chun and Mong Mu-yak, fixated on finding the boat owner, also eyed a few patrons.
For good reason.
'Martial artists.'
The group at the innermost table and those at the far right end were martial artists.
Curiously, the six on the right, with their rough attire and appearances, looked like ronin or unorthodox fighters.
In contrast, the ones at the very back wore neat, uniform clothing—like escort warriors.
Their charge was presumably the woman in the center, her face veiled in fine silk.
Her blue silk robe, embroidered with butterflies, exuded refinement, hinting at noble status.
"My lord."
Seop Chun called to Mok Kyung-un.
The reason: an old man seated beside her, clean-shaven.
He attended her with beaming smiles and utmost devotion, yet his energy was so contained that his skill was impossible to gauge—unlike the others.
Seop Chun wasn't the only one to notice.
'What the hell is that old man?'
No matter how he focused his senses, he couldn't read the man's level.
For someone at mature peak realm like himself to fail meant the old man was beyond that.
Such wariness prompted Mok Kyung-un to smile and say,
"Ignore it. We're here for a boat."
He couldn't care less.
No prior connection, no reason to clash—why bother?
"Understood."
Seop Chun headed to the kitchen to summon a server.
Meanwhile, the veiled woman eyed Mok Kyung-un with interest and murmured softly,
"Trapped in this backwater, bored out of my mind, and treasure walks right in."
At her words, the old man—who'd been flattering her with chatter—frowned slightly.
Then, cautiously,
"My lady... er, miss."
"Yes."
"Is it because of that handsome young man who just came in?"
She nodded faintly.
Stranded in the inn for three days amid endless rain, her gaze had locked on one newcomer.
His rain-soaked hair and features were stunningly beautiful.
Even 'there,' such a face was rare.
"Sir. With days more of rain ahead, I'd love some entertainment from that beauty."
"Miss, forgive me, but those people are..."
"Martial artists, right?"
"Yes."
"I can tell from their weapons."
"Yes, yes, sharp eyes as always. But do you recall what this old servant mentioned earlier?"
"Not to get tangled with martial artists?"
"Yes, exactly. So please..."
"Sir. Didn't you say, before guarding... me..."
"......"
"That even in the martial world, experts like you are few?"
"That's true, but..."
"Then you can't indulge this request to soothe my boredom and frustration?"
'Good grief.'
The old man was at a loss.
From the moment they'd entered, his senses had confirmed those guests were no ordinary folk.
The men in their mid-to-late twenties were peak experts.
'At that age, reaching such heights? Likely heirs of prestigious clans or disciples of major sects.'
Even the boy she pointed out—seventeen or eighteen—hadn't hit twenty yet, but showed mature apex talent.
The old man eyed them with troubled eyes.
'What to do.'
Even food can poison you if mishandled.
This was that situation.
The ragtag ronin on the side? Harmless to toy with.
But these? Different.
Mess with them wrong, and it could get messy—especially incognito, rumors could complicate things.
However,
'Keep suppressing her, and she'll explode.'
Raised in such luxury, she wouldn't rest until her whims were met.
How many incidents on the way to and from Gwangju Castle?
It had taken endless coaxing to get this far.
'She's at her limit.'
Three days trapped in this damp, dingy inn amid nonstop rain—her mood was foul.
Flat refusals would just turn her ire on him.
And then,
'My path ahead gets rough.'
Her anger was one thing.
If it reached 'his' ears and painted him wrong, the future darkened.
A bit of hassle, but compromise was needed.
Cautiously, he said to the veiled woman,
"How about this, then?"
He outlined his idea. She looked displeased but reluctantly nodded.
* * *
-Shooooaaa!
Behind the inn.
Mok Kyung-un and his group followed the old woman—innkeeper and cook—to the kitchen, then out back.
Scanning around, she said,
"My, what's the rush for you young folks to find that boat?"
Politely, Seop Chun replied,
"Ma'am, we're on a tight schedule and need to cross the river now."
"I heard earlier, but in this weather, launching into those rapids could end badly."
"We know, but we have our reasons."
Shaking her head and clucking her tongue, she pointed somewhere.
The northwest hill end of the village.
The rain had hidden it, but a large manor stood there.
As expected—a wealthy local.
But,
"The boat owner's there, but no use going."
"Thank you for telling us."
"I said it's pointless—did that go in one ear and out the other?"
"Pardon?"
"The boat owner... well, the master of the house got his comeuppance for evil deeds and is dying."
Seop Chun frowned.
Comeuppance? What?
"What do you mean?"
"I said it—the master's dying."
"Is he the ferryman?"
"Yeah."
"And he's dying?"
"What else? Possessed by a water ghost, looks like hell. Don't bother; you'll catch bad luck. Just wait out the rain."
Bewildered, Seop Chun stared.
Sick? No, possessed by a water ghost—what?
Puzzled, Mok Kyung-un smiled.
"Let's check it out anyway."
Unfazed, as the old woman shook her head.
"Told you outsiders to avoid the curse, but you won't listen. Fine, if you wanna die cursed, your funeral."
With that, she stormed back inside.
Watching, Seop Chun muttered uneasily,
"Old hag's bad luck. Tch."
Divine punishment, water ghosts—superstitions.
Why spout such nonsense?
Anyway, Mok Kyung-un said,
"We know who the owner is now. We'll find out when we go."
"Fair point."
They started toward the manor.
But after a few steps, someone called.
"Hey, young warriors."
-Flinch!
Seop Chun and Mong Mu-yak whipped around, eyes sharp with caution.
Even in the rain, that distance should've been detectable by presence.
They hadn't sensed a thing.
Turning, surprise lit their eyes.
'This guy?'
It was the clean-shaven old man from the inn.
Already wary from first sight—unable to gauge him—now why call them?
Puzzled, the old man clasped hands in greeting and said,
"Sorry to stop you. I'm Ban Mo."
Mong Mu-yak asked warily,
"Why call us, sir?"
"Ah, young warriors, no need for caution. I'm not here to harm you."
Noting their tension, the self-named Ban Mo smiled warmly.
Mong Mu-yak pressed,
"May we ask the reason?"
"Hahaha. You seem in a hurry."
"......"
"Fair enough—straight to it. I overheard your situation earlier. Looking for a big boat to cross, right?"
Mong Mu-yak frowned.
'Overheard' meant eavesdropping on their talk with the old woman.
Irritated, but Ban Mo continued,
"Truth is, I went to the boat owner myself, at my lady's insistence."
"You did?"
"Yes. But since we're waiting here for the rain, you can guess how it went."
Seop Chun asked curiously,
"Couldn't rent it?"
"Right. Met him—dying, can't pilot anything."
On death's door?
Seop Chun glanced at Mong Mu-yak, face saying what now?
A dying ferryman meant no threats or bribes mattered.
But,
"Thank you. Though that doesn't seem why you called us."
Mok Kyung-un spoke to Ban Mo.
Ban Mo smiled faintly.
"Correct. My lady wishes to befriend you while we wait for clear weather. Spare some time?"
"Befriend?"
"Yes. We're all stuck waiting—nothing else to do. She's quite taken with you, so I ask."
He bowed again, hands clasped.
His politeness left Mong Mu-yak and Seop Chun exchanging awkward looks.
On a secret mission, contact was risky—even waiting out rain.
Seop Chun bowed politely.
"Grateful for the invitation, sir, but we're pressed for time. Please convey our regrets to your lady."
"Goodness."
Ban Mo clucked his tongue, looking troubled.
"Can't cross now anyway—why push so hard?"
"No choice."
"Sigh."
"Then we'll be going..."
Before he finished,
-Flinch!
Seop Chun and Mong Mu-yak's faces hardened simultaneously.
A fierce aura poured from Ban Mo.
Arms behind back, it evoked a razor-sharp sword, pressing down on them.
'Pinnacle... peak of peak realm.'
As suspected, Ban Mo was a monster.
The sheer true energy in his aura showed the gap clearly.
Heaven-Earth Society executive level.
Ban Mo bared his menace, then smiled.
"Come now, young warriors. I ask nicely. For my face's sake, humor my lady."
Polite words, near-threat.
Seop Chun couldn't hold back.
"Are you threatening us?"
"Hahaha. Threaten? Perish the thought."
Ban Mo had no intent to truly harm.
Just show the gap, arrange for the lady—prove his effort.
"Think of it as cooperation. Not hard—will you?"
He amped his aura to press harder.
Then—
A low voice whispered in his ear from behind.
"Sir."
-Flinch!
Ban Mo's eyes widened.
It was the voice of the youngest youth—the lady's pick.
'When?'
They'd stood in a line—yet he'd vanished.
Ban Mo was stunned.
A soft voice tickled his ear.
"Don't know what a threat is? Shall I show you?"