Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Queen of Fishing
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A burly man spoke up.
"Whether we do or not, why the hell are you suddenly inspecting us like some pushover?"
"Hahaha. You gotta stretch your legs before lying down. We got a report that some random outsiders are doing business here without permission."
"You love snitching, huh? We're officially registered with the Hawon Sect. What business is it of yours where we set up shop?"
At that moment, Han Ibi's eyes gleamed.
Hawon Sect—the name for the ragtag alliance of pickpockets, thieves, courtesans, errand boys, beggars, and the like that formed the very bottom rung of the murim world.
Then the five men chuckled as if amused.
"Hahaha. Hey, kids. They say it's the Hawon Sect. What is this, some tale from the days when tigers smoked pipes?"
"Perfect. Let's cut the chit-chat. I was getting bored anyway—time to loosen up a bit."
The buzzcut man said,
"This area's commerce has been under the People's Militia for a long time. If you want to do business here, you need our permission first."
The People's Militia was a group formed by those resentful of Hawon's ruling faction.
They had been expanding their influence with frightening momentum lately.
"Fine... then grant us permission to do business."
"Haha. This guy's got some guts. Sorry, but we can't allow it."
"Why not?"
"To sell medicine, you pay a stall fee upfront, and after you're done, you hand over a third of your earnings. That's the rule around here."
"We're not selling medicine—we're selling liquor."
"That's not the point! Medicine or booze, doesn't matter!"
"We haven't made a single coin yet?"
"Not our problem."
Sensing the atmosphere turning ugly, some of the villagers began slinking away.
At that, the buzzcut man whipped around and bellowed,
"Where do you think you're going? Not one of you moves a muscle! You've all ignored the People's Militia's rules and aided these outsiders' defiance—you'll pay the appropriate price!"
The villagers froze in place like statues at his shout.
Han Ibi thought,
'Appropriate price, my ass—probably just extortion. These guys have all kinds of tricks. Looks like they're no different from the Hawon crew. Just a different affiliation. What's this People's Militia anyway?'
The buzzcut man thrust out his palm toward the burly man.
"Alright, you get it. Hand it over."
The burly man eyed the empty palm.
"What if I don't want to?"
"You'll be very tired. Promise."
"I hate being tired."
"Your call."
At that, the men behind the buzzcut began limbering up.
Seeing this, the burly man shrugged.
"We really don't have money. If we did, would we be doing this? This 'Blazing Spirit Brew' is rare stuff... I'll give you a bottle special—just get lost."
The buzzcut man's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Keep pushing it, you pig bastard—looks like you've lost your damn mind for the last century and a half. Who the hell are you calling a beggar?"
"Real beggars at least beg honestly. Don't insult the poor souls."
"What! What did you say?"
Shing!Shring!
The self-proclaimed People's Militia thugs drew their swords.
The buzzcut man's face flushed crimson all the way to the back of his shaved head, looking ready to explode.
A powder keg moment!
Tension hung in the air like the calm before a storm.
Just then, the shaven-headed girl spoke to the man in the fluttering cloak.
"Brother Cha."
The cloaked man replied,
"Brother? Who's your brother?"
The girl gave him a pitiful look.
"It's over. You killed the vibe. Come here already."
Hearing this, the man dubbed "Brother Cha" looked disappointed.
"Damn. I was finally getting into character after so long, and now it ends."
With that, he shifted to the side of the burly man facing off against the buzzcut.
A show of support.
The villagers watching whispered among themselves.
"Oh my god. Those guys were total con artists."
"Almost bought their booze without knowing."
"Such shameless bastards."
"Drinking sketchy liquor from crooks like that—if it kills you, it's your own loss. Whew, took ten years off my life."
Then the shaven-headed girl shouted,
"Hey! You old geezers!"
The buzzcut crew instinctively turned to her.
In a flash, she crossed her outstretched arms in an X and swung them toward the group.
Whoosh!—over a dozen hidden weapons sliced through the air.
They resembled awls but were weighted at the ends, spinning wildly as they flew.
The startled buzzcut men frantically swung their weapons to block.
Cling! Clang!
Metal rang out as they deflected the sudden assault.
But...
"Urk—."
One short, scrawny thug clutched his calf with a groan.
He gasped urgently,
"Poison... it's poisoned."
Furious, the buzzcut man roared,
"You brazen bitch—guts spilling out already? Using poisoned darts like some vile—"
He couldn't finish.
The shaven-headed girl executed a diver's flip into the air, crossing her arms in an X once more.
"Argh—!"
A scream pierced the sky.
All eyes turned there.
He'd blocked it... but the same guy from before got hit again.
He grimaced fiercely, clutching his left arm.
She said,
"Hmph. Not bad."
Then the cloaked man propped his head on his hand, flopped onto the ground, and said,
"Junior Sister. Let me know when you're out. I'm beat—gonna rest."
The shaven-headed girl replied,
"All thrown now. Get up."
The cloaked man scowled.
"What? Already? Why'd you bring so few today?"
"You said not to pack much 'cause you'd be in the way, Brother."
"Huh... Did I?"
"You did!"
"What? Since when do you listen to me like it's gospel? You ignore me all the time. Whatever. You're a big girl now—handle it yourself."
Hearing her darts were spent, the four remaining Militia thugs charged eagerly.
The girl spun and fled.
Seeing her run, the thugs sped up, closing in.
Suddenly, she leaped high, twisted her waist backward, and swung both arms.
Giggling, she said,
"But I brought extra 'Jade Brain Needles' instead. Oh dear, what to do with these naive old men."
This time, not even a whisper of wind.
They were that fine—needle-like projectiles.
Less powerful than before, but their silent stealth was like a "faceless assassin."
In an instant, the buzzcut man ripped off his upper garment and spun it with infused qi.
Han Ibi thought,
'He's no slouch. The girl's making him look ridiculous, but he's no joke.'
The whirling cloth traced a solid defensive barrier.
The thugs lined up behind him like kids playing tag, desperately dodging the needle storm.
Ting, ting—the Jade Brain Needles lost momentum and scattered.
Operation success...
"Argh! Boss! I'm dying!"
Right.
They'd forgotten one.
The short thug, already downed by the awl darts to arm and leg.
Poor guy...
He clutched his left eye, blood trickling between his fingers.
Even a speck of dust hurts—the thought was horrifying.
'He called him "Boss." So that's their leader. Why's the head honcho out here for this crap? Anyway... how the hell are we supposed to sell booze now?'
Finally, all the needles were deflected.
But the wary buzzcut kept spinning his shirt.
The prone cloaked man said,
"What's that guy doing? Looks like he'll keep at it all day. Let's sell booze somewhere else—this spot's done."
Enraged, the buzzcut hurled his shirt down.
"B-Boss! N-Not yet!"
His lackeys behind him anxiously tried to stop him.
The girl took a running start in place, spun, and crossed her arms again.
Startled, the buzzcut hurriedly channeled qi and resumed spinning.
But...
Nothing happened.
The shaven-headed girl suddenly doubled over laughing.
"Aww, you cute old geezers. Fooled ya?"
The buzzcut roughly shook out his shirt again.
His eyes blazed with intent to tear her apart.
She swung her arms lightly once more.
He snarled,
"Not falling for it this time, you little—"
A cry from behind.
"Argh!"
A younger thug collapsed, clutching his gut.
The girl stuck out her tongue and giggled.
The buzzcut man's face darkened from red to black.
His subordinates said,
"Boss. We'll handle the men."
They bolted toward the burly man and the cloaked one.
"What? Hey!"
Too late.
Better to fight those two than deal with this infuriating girl, they figured.
The cloaked man couldn't just lie there anymore.
He sprang up from the ground.
"Such persistent pests."
A mustached thug charged, swinging his sword.
The cloaked man raised a hand gravely.
"Hold up!"
The mustached man halted instinctively.
"What?"
With innocent ease, the cloaked man doffed his cloak.
"Let's take the flying cloak off first. I kinda treasure this thing."
The mustached man's face twisted in fury.
"You mad bastard!"
He thrust his sword straight in.
The cloaked man said,
"Whoa there. No patience at all—searched high and low and still can't find it."
Han Ibi, watching closely, was stunned by the cloaked man's response.
He was spreading the cloak to block the stab.
The villagers looked baffled too.
But...
"What the—how?!"
"What is that?"
Expectations of the blade shredding through crumpled as the cloak impossibly halted the sword.
A mere scrap of cloth?
Everyone was dumbfounded, but no one more than the mustached man.
He poured every ounce of strength into shoving deeper.
The cloak didn't budge.
Crack!
"Argh."
The mustached man screamed.
(To be continued in the next chapter)