Bankruptcy? As If, You Bastards! (3)
“Senior Brother.”
“Yes, Junior Brother!”
“Put some muscle into it.”
“Yes! I’ll do my best.”
The hands kneading his shoulders pressed in harder.
“What’s your name again?”
“Yoon Jong!”
“You’re the Great Senior Brother?”
“Yes! I am!”
Chung Myung tilted his head back just a little. His eyes landed on Yoon Jong’s face, bruised black and blue all over.
“Still, since you are the Great Senior Brother, I’m giving you special treatment.”
“Thank you!”
“Keep kneading.”
“Yes!”
As Yoon Jong, the Great Senior Brother, started diligently massaging his shoulders, Chung Myung clicked his tongue and faced forward again.
A line of senior brothers was buried face-first in the ground.
“If you’re a person...”
As soon as Chung Myung spoke, everyone flinched. The sight of all those heads stuck in the dirt twitching at once was almost comical.
“...then if you want to live a quiet life, you ought to help a guy out. Don’t you think, senior brothers?”
“Yes, sir!”
“We were thoughtless!”
Chung Myung let out a long sigh.
Who was Chung Myung?
He was none other than one of the greatest swordsmen in the world, one acknowledged as the foremost among the world’s top three swordsmen, and a man who, barring the Heavenly Demon, was basically the unofficial strongest in the world.
He didn’t even need internal energy to deal with a bunch of brats like this.
No matter how weak his inner force might be by comparison, thirty of these little punks—or even three thousand—wouldn’t be enough to handle Chung Myung.
“I can understand initiation rituals to an extent. But if you’re going to do one, at least do it like human beings. There are things you can do in the Daoist temple and things you can’t. You lot want to become Daoists, so how can you act so low-class?”
Everyone groaned without answering.
Why does he sound like such an old fogey?
I feel like I’m being yelled at by a senior uncle or something.
This didn’t feel like talking to someone their own age at all.
Chung Myung clicked his tongue at the sight of them.
I can’t believe I have to roughhouse with these idiots.
The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.
“Get up.”
The moment the words left his mouth, the children shot to their feet like they’d been struck by lightning.
“Mount Hua may be going to hell, but this is still the state of the brats who’re supposed to be the purest in Mount Hua?”
Chung Myung tsked in disgust.
“We need to fix your mental state first!”
“...”
The children exchanged furtive glances.
What the hell is this freak that crawled in here?
Which bastard said to beat him up? He’s dead, seriously.
We’re screwed. We have to live together now.
The atmosphere was enough to make a funeral home seem cheerful.
And honestly, it made sense.
If they were just living with a master, they’d at least have somewhere to run. But the third-generation disciples had to live in Baekmae Hall together. If a tiger moved into the rabbit burrow—especially a tiger with a rotten personality—what rabbit could possibly sleep peacefully?
“Tsk.”
Chung Myung narrowed his eyes, then opened his mouth again.
“First.”
“Yes!”
“Among everyone here, the senior brother who knows Mount Hua’s situation best, raise your hand.”
No one said a word.
But their eyes all shifted clearly toward one person.
“...”
Seeing the senior brothers’ gazes settle on him, Jo Gul widened his eyes.
“Hand.”
“...”
“Haaand.”
Jo Gul weakly raised his hand.
I’ll remember this! You bastards!
After all the time they’d spent together, and they sold out their senior brother like that? They had no conscience at all!
Grinding his teeth, Jo Gul stepped forward reluctantly.
He stood stiffly and looked down at Chung Myung. When Chung Myung saw that upturned chin and that hard, downward glare, he frowned.
“Senior Brother Jo Gul.”
“...Yes.”
“You’re a senior brother, and yet your neck is way too stiff, isn’t it?”
“N-no, that’s not it.”
Jo Gul hastily reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I got slammed so hard a minute ago that I can’t bend it properly. Standing like this is more comfortable.”
“...”
“...”
Chung Myung clicked his tongue softly and stood up from his spot.
“Follow me to the room.”
“...Yes.”
“The rest of you can go back to your rooms and rest for today. Whatever I’m going to do starts tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Senior Brother, come with me.”
Chung Myung flicked his finger and headed upstairs, and Jo Gul followed after him like a bull being led to a slaughterhouse.
The moment the two of them disappeared, the remaining third-generation disciples swarmed Yoon Jong.
“Great Senior Brother! Are you all right?”
“Does I look all right to you?”
“...No.”
Yoon Jong rubbed his blackened eye. The sad thing was that even though his eyes were bruised black and blue now, they’d probably be perfectly fine by tomorrow.
If there were any visible marks, the senior uncles would deal with it.
He couldn’t possibly bring himself to run and tattle—his pride wouldn’t allow it—but even if he wanted to show some evidence, the internal energy he’d learned would heal and restore his body on its own. By tomorrow morning, everyone would be as good as new, as if nothing had happened.
Which meant...
He only hit us that much because he planned for that from the start.
The more he thought about it, the scarier that bastard became.
“What do we do now?”
“What do you mean, what do we do?”
“Should we jump him in his sleep?”
“...You wanna be the one to do it?”
“...”
Everyone went silent like they’d been stuffed with cotton. The image of Chung Myung raging around like a wild beast flashed through their minds.
No. That’s a terrible idea.
If we mess this up, we die.
Yoon Jong shivered. Just remembering Chung Myung’s eyes rolling white as he slammed a chair leg down made his throat go dry.
“But...”
Then someone said something nobody else had even thought of.
“Why did Senior Brother Jo Gul get dragged away?”
“...”
“...”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“Sit comfortably.”
“...I’ll stand.”
“Don’t worry and sit down. I’m not going to hit you.”
“That’s not the issue.”
Jo Gul hesitated a little before speaking.
“When I got slammed into the ceiling, something went wrong with my back, and now I can’t bend it. Standing is easier.”
“...”
Chung Myung cleared his throat.
“Then stand, I guess.”
“Why did you call me over, anyway...”
“Let’s speak casually, senior brother.”
“...Huh?”
“It’s a little weird for a senior brother to be using honorifics with a junior brother. Just talk normally.”
“Yes.”
“I said talk normally.”
“Yes.”
“...”
Chung Myung clicked his tongue.
Well, whatever. He’d get used to it as he went. It wasn’t the end of the day.
“Anyway, why did you call me?”
“Ah. I’ve got a few things to ask.” He tapped his cheek with a finger. “For now, answer as thoroughly as you can, based on what you know.”
“Yes.”
Chung Myung spoke slowly.
“So.”
“Yes.”
“Most of the kids here are from merchant families?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Hmm.”
Chung Myung drummed his finger against his cheek.
Merchant families, huh.
Even in the past, there had been plenty of children from merchant families who wanted to enter Mount Hua. But Mount Hua had tried, whenever possible, not to accept disciples from merchant houses.
Because merchants were lowly?
No.
Mount Hua would accept even beggars if they had the proper attitude, so it certainly didn’t think merchants were beneath them. The problem was that the children of merchant families usually came not to become Mount Hua disciples, but to learn martial arts.
What was the difference, you ask?
For other entrants who weren’t from merchant families, many came with the resolve to bury their bones in Mount Hua. They entered, trained, received a Daoist title, and eventually became core figures who would lead Mount Hua forward.
But those from merchant houses remained outside disciples. They learned only the martial arts allowed to them, then grew up and returned to their own families.
They still didn’t forget that they were Mount Hua disciples even in the secular world, and they cooperated with the sect, but it couldn’t compare to the disciples who remained at the main sect. Those who went down into the world as outside disciples were certainly a huge financial help, but it was the disciples at the main sect who actually led and defended Mount Hua.
So if most of them are from merchant families...
That meant even the third-generation disciples who seemed so numerous would all leave Mount Hua once they were grown.
All show and no substance.
His irritation rose, but he could understand the sect leader’s thinking. No matter how likely they were to leave, and no matter how much of an outside branch they were, having outside disciples was still better than having no disciples at all. If the number kept shrinking, Mount Hua’s line would truly be severed.
“Then why did those senior brothers come here?”
“What do you mean?”
“If they’re from merchant families, they’d have some information of their own. Then they’d know Mount Hua’s situation wasn’t good. So why did they come all the way here?”
“Ah, well...”
Jo Gul scratched his head.
“Actually, my family originally didn’t intend to send me to Mount Hua. But with our family’s finances, there weren’t many sects we could afford to enter. Mount Hua may have declined, but it still has a lot of outside branches in the world. Maybe that doesn’t matter much in the martial world, but in merchant circles those connections are a huge advantage.”
“Hmm.”
If what Jo Gul said was true, then the merchant-family children here weren’t especially remarkable people. That wasn’t meant as an insult. In the end, a merchant’s worth was measured by the money he had.
If these families had been wealthy, they wouldn’t have entered a declining Mount Hua. They would’ve paid more and gone to a prestigious sect instead.
So that means there’s no money to squeeze out of these third-generation disciples either. They probably already paid a proper amount when they entered, and if the sect still looks like this after taking that money, then the household’s in complete disarray.
His head started throbbing.
It reminded him of the old senior brother, who used to hunch over the ledgers every year-end and clutch his head in agony. Back then, Chung Myung had told him he was being too obsessed with money for a Daoist. Thinking about it now, that was the sort of thing that could’ve earned him a ledger to the face.
People needed money to live. Daoists didn’t survive on dew and wind alone.
“Hmm. Then...”
“Yes.”
“You all just plan to learn some martial arts, then head back down the mountain and return to your families?”
“Usually, yes.”
“No wonder the discipline is such a mess.”
Of course they had no attachment to a place they’d come to merely for the signboard. That was why they pulled this ridiculous initiation stunt and why the senior brothers all huddled together like a gang of delinquents.
“All right, I’ve got enough for now. Get out, senior brother.”
“Then...”
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“What time does the daily routine start here?”
“We wake at the beginning of the Hour of the Dragon, around seven in the morning.”
“Tell all the kids to get ready and gather in front of the hall by the beginning of the Hour of the Rabbit tomorrow morning, around five.”
“...What?”
“The Hour of the Rabbit.”
“...Yes.”
“And tell the senior brothers to start preparing the things I’m about to list right now.”
“You want us to prepare something before everyone gathers tomorrow morning?”
“You don’t like that?”
“Why would I mind? Leave it to me.”
“Good. I like that proactive attitude.”
“...”
A short while later, after hearing Chung Myung’s orders, Jo Gul left the room with a strange expression. Sadly for him, his room was right next to Chung Myung’s, so there was nowhere far enough to run away to anyway.
Listening to Jo Gul’s footsteps fade away, Chung Myung flopped back onto the bed.
The longest journey begins with a single step.
He didn’t know who first said that, but he must have been a very relaxed man.
When you had to walk a thousand li, who had time to carefully take step after step? More importantly, the road Chung Myung had to travel was not merely a thousand li. It was a path so long and harsh that even after walking ninety thousand li, there would still be far more to go.
Still, it starts with one step.
And that first step would begin with these bastards.