Bringing the Fire (2)
I didn't intervene at first. According to the contract, any clash with the Black Dragon Sect was Cheonsabang's responsibility.
Cheonsabang had made a fortune from this deal, surpassing their former glory—or so I'd heard whispered in the back alleys.
The problem arose because their forces were evenly matched. One side needed to dominate to crush the other outright, but with their strengths so similar, the bloodshed just dragged on.
Originally, Cheonsabang should have outmatched the Black Dragon Sect in raw power. But the sect had sniffed out the danger early and roped in other black dao groups. Now, Wuhan's underworld was locked in a stalemate between Cheonsabang and everyone else.
"...So that's why I'm here."
"Ahem."
The three of them wore uncomfortable expressions. Sitting beside me was the Cheonsabang leader, while across from me loomed the Black Dragon Sect master.
The two glared daggers at each other. With their sworn enemies right in front of them, their blood must have been boiling.
"Wuhan's security is in shambles. Reports flood in of black dao thugs brawling the moment they step into any alley. How bad must it be for the baozhengshi to summon you all personally?"
Hojo Chamjeong Jin Mubyeong, who had called us together, spoke up. Black dao groups tangled with merchants, sure, but at their core, they were part of the murim. The unspoken rule was no interference from officials—but open street fights in a bustling city like this? That demanded repercussions.
"We're just honoring the contract."
That was Cheonsabang's stance.
"They invaded our turf, so we defended it."
The Black Dragon Sect's counter.
"But shouldn't the Muhan Merchant Group's master be here too?"
My turn. Jin Mubyeong shook his head.
"The Muhan master claims no involvement in this black dao squabble."
"Come on. You believe that?"
"What can we do if they say so?"
I was floored. I'd long known Jin Mubyeong favored the Muhan Group, but excluding their master from this face-off made no sense.
A building crumbles without a pillar. This talks lacked one, so it was doomed to collapse.
Suddenly, Jin Mubyeong sighed at me.
"Why do you always stir up trouble?"
"Pardon?"
My eye twitched. I shot back incredulously.
"The troublemakers are the Black Dragon Sect over there and their Muhan allies. We've just been minding our business, trading in our own territory."
"What territory? They crossed into ours first—naturally we fight back. You think we're some random thugs picking fights for fun?"
The Black Dragon Sect master bristled. He was a scrawny, unimpressive man. How he led back-alley rabble with that build was beyond me. Then again, word was the real power was some guy named Mun Ilji. Classic puppet master.
"Selling a few goods and you black dao lot get cocky. Watch your neck on a dark road."
"Hojo Chamjeong, sir—that's outright extortion. Isn't it against the law?"
"Guwubuqinchim."
I sighed deeply. From the moment the Muhan master skipped this meeting, I knew what treatment I'd get. Hadn't Jin Mubyeong just painted me as a walking disaster?
He placed a hand on my shoulder, coaxing in that oily tone.
"Just step back a little. You're selling plenty elsewhere already. What's so hard about yielding Wuhan's share?"
"It's not about yielding."
I brushed his hand off my shoulder. His face hardened instantly.
"If I yield to thugs like these once, I'll have to everywhere. Retreat becomes habit—you keep retreating till you die. I won't let my caravan end up like that."
"You really want to drink the penalty wine?"
"No, they should. Why pin it on me alone?"
"I'm saying you yield and it's done."
"They yield. Or better—no coveting what's not theirs. Yielding means giving up your own; these lunatics want everyone else's."
"We're grateful for Hubuk Singui's aid to the court, but you've crossed the line."
"And what if I have? Will the Zhuge clan's funding dry up?"
BAM!
Jin Mubyeong slammed his fist on the desk. Even without martial prowess, a rank-3 official's aura crushed lesser men. The Black Dragon master fidgeted; Cheonsabang's leader licked his lips, feigning calm.
"The yamen won't meddle in negotiations. Especially not Hubuk Singui's mess—handle it yourselves."
There it was. They were stripping Hwi-yeong Merchant Group of legal protection.
"Does the baozhengshi know?"
"Riding Hubuk Singui's fame doesn't make you special. I can handle this quietly."
"Understood, then."
"No regrets. Too late anyway. Irreversible now."
"Irreversible? That was true long ago."
I stood. Cheonsabang's leader rose awkwardly after me; the sect master crossed his arms, glaring.
I snorted and strode out of the baozhengshi. Outside, Cheonsabang's leader sighed heavily.
"You okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You know what happens if the baozhengshi abandons your caravan?"
"I do."
Merchant groups thrive under legal shields. The unimaginable wealth draws equally unimaginable grudges, buried but ever-present. A mere black dao skirmish was nothing compared to that inferno. What I'd just done in there? That was striking the match.
The yamen could just shrug it off as murim business, not theirs.
"...Watch your back. Haven't known you long, but you're too promising to die young."
"I'll outlive you, Leader. No worries."
"Still got that mouth—reassuring. I'm heading back to base. Talks failed, so expect bloodier fights."
I nodded and sent him off.
I strolled quietly through Wuhan's streets. My hat shadowed my face—hard to recognize me.
Then I slipped into a back alley. Contrary to Jin Mubyeong's tales of constant brawls, it was eerily silent.
Oddly, no beggars with brass bowls or leaf-bed tramps. As if someone had cleared them out.
I whipped around. Roughnecks with sheaths slung over their backs were closing in, narrowing the alley.
I tipped my hat up with a fingertip, meeting their eyes. Their gazes locked on me. No coincidence. Since acquiring demonic qi, my qi sense had sharpened—I'd sensed tails the moment I left the baozhengshi.
"What's this about?"
"Heh. Too careless. Didn't expect us so soon?"
The lead man chuckled.
"In Black Dragon Sect's name, you're done."
"Talking like some righteous crusader. You're just trash."
"Mouthing off on death's door? Guess merchant's your true calling, not hero."
He drew his sword. Lust gleamed in his eyes and blade. No doubt the sect master promised a bounty for my head.
Then a side thug lunged with a dagger.
"Hey!"
Surprised? Not me—them.
"You coward!"
"This merchant's head is mine! Haha!"
The dagger man was stealth-trained, quick and sly with his lightness skill. After Wudang's rigid stances like Jeunjong or Cheongunbo, this slippery sapa footwork felt alien.
"Die!"
Swish.
The blade grazed his throat, flesh parting wide. Blood gushed in spurts. Not mine—his.
"Gack... hack... cough."
Every cough sprayed more.
"Wh-what?"
"How?!"
The Black Dragon thugs hadn't even clocked my move.
I'd simply reached out mid-charge, twisted his wrist, snatched the dagger, and slit his throat. Textbook Wudang Yuneung Jigang.
"Didn't know I'm a Wudang lay disciple, huh?"
Crouching, I wiped the bloodied dagger on the corpse's clothes. It gleamed anew. I checked my reflection, then rose.
"Wh-what? No one said he was this strong!"
"A merchant lay disciple? Isn't that just a joke?"
The would-be assassins buzzed. True to black dao form, utter disarray. The leader tried calming them, but some were already fleeing.
"Sent these losers after me?"
Thrill coursed through me. Past-life me would've been beheaded or ransomed. Power was this freeing.
"Should I come to you?"
My eerie words made them step back in unison. My unseen technique spooked them like the unknown.
"No good. Come out, Mun Daehyeop."
The leader called behind him. The crowd parted; a cold-faced man shuffled forward, rusted gauntlets on both fists.
"Calling for help against one merchant? Pathetic."
He eyed the Black Dragon men with disdain. They all averted their gazes.
"You're in deep now! Know who this is?"
"Shut it. Brandishing blades at a merchant's embarrassing enough."
"Ah. Yes, sir."
The cold man stood before me and drew his sword. The air shifted. His presence outclassed the rabble.
No intro needed—I knew him.
"Yeomhwa Gwisoo Mun Ilji?"
"You know my name. Don't hate me—I'm bound by the sect master's orders."
"Caught sleeping with his wife?"
"That wretch have a wife? You saw him at the baozhengshi."
"Fair point."
We both chuckled, picturing the sect master's sorry mug.
"Rest of you, scram. I'll handle this."
Mun Ilji glanced back. The Black Dragon men ebbed away like a receding tide. Now, just us in the alley.
"I'd hate for my contact's Hubuk Singui treatment to go to waste, but this isn't personal. Pointless to say, I know."
He flexed his fists repeatedly. Joints cracked ominously.
"No grudge against you either. Just your Black Dragon Sect."
"Talking like you'll win."
"Why not?"
I smiled. Purple qi seeped from my body—the first time demonic qi truly manifested.
Mun Ilji's face changed.