Where Is That Beggar Bastard Now? (1)
Baek Cheon let out a faint snort of laughter.
Cho Sam?
What an appropriately beggarly name.
He must be looking for his fellow beggars, or something like that…
Huh?
Then why was he coming this way?
The young beggar with traces of childishness still lingering on his face walked straight toward the Mount Hua disciples. Then, with a bright expression, he said, "Cho Sam! You’re Cho Sam, right?"
"…Huh?"
Was he talking to them?
Who was he speaking to now…
Huh?
Chung Myung?
Realization dawned on the Mount Hua disciples’ faces as they saw that his gaze was fixed on Chung Myung.
What in the world was going on?
Clack.
Chung Myung, who had been gulping down liquor straight from the bottle, set it down and looked up at the boy. His brows were faintly furrowed.
"What the hell are you talking about? Who the fuck are you?"
"You don’t know me? It’s me, Guchil! We used to hang around together!"
"Huh? Guchil?"
That name sounded vaguely familiar.
Guchil…
"Ah."
Chung Myung shot to his feet. Then he pointed at Guchil with shaking eyes.
"You… you! You’re that beggar from back then!"
Guchil.
He was the young beggar in the beggar den when Chung Myung first woke up in this body.
Wasn’t he the one who had, in his own way, helped Chung Myung while he was still reeling from the shock of having gained a new body and been thrown one hundred years into the future?
And he and the body’s original owner had seemed to be fairly close already.
"So you really are Cho Sam!"
Guchil grinned brightly.
"It’s been how long? You said you were going to Mount Hua, and you actually became a Mount Hua disciple?"
"Yeah, something like that."
As Baek Cheon slowly pieced together the situation, his expression went a little blank.
He really was a beggar by origin.
Chung Myung occasionally said as much himself, but Baek Cheon had never once believed it.
Of course he hadn’t. Chung Myung and a beggar? What an absurd combination.
It wasn’t that Chung Myung looked too refined to be a beggar.
It was that Baek Cheon simply could not accept that this bastard had once lived by begging peacefully for food.
Could this guy really have done that? If he’d claimed he used to be a thief, a bandit, or a con man, Baek Cheon would have believed it without the slightest hesitation.
In any case, that wasn’t what mattered right now.
So his name was…
"…Cho Sam?"
"…"
"Your name was Cho Sam?"
The Mount Hua disciples covered their mouths and trembled.
Cho Sam?
What a thoroughly beggarly name.
Baek Cheon, shaking almost like he was having a fit, finally burst out laughing when he saw Chung Myung’s sour face.
"Bwahahahaha! Cho Sam, he says!"
"…"
"So our Chung Myung’s name was Cho Sam? Cho Sam!"
"Dong-ryong, shut up."
"Jin Dong-ryong is better than Cho Sam!"
"Cho Sam is better, you idiot!"
"Yeah, yeah. Cho Sam."
"Argh!"
Chung Myung snapped a kick across the table, but Baek Cheon simply tilted his head and dodged it.
"Good heavens. Chung Myung’s kick used to be sharp, but Cho Sam’s is barely worth a damn."
"Ugh. I can’t believe the day came when Jin Dong-ryong got to mock me by name…"
"Well, you are Cho Sam, after all!"
Watching the two of them trade insults and barbs, the remaining Mount Hua disciples smiled to themselves.
They really are the same sort of person.
Hard to tell which one’s better.
Staggering slightly, Chung Myung moved in front of Guchil. In the end, they were old acquaintances; he couldn’t just take a halfhearted beating here.
"How did you get here?"
"I came to watch the martial arts tournament."
"You did?"
At Chung Myung’s question, Guchil nodded.
"I’m a erjiege now."
"Oh?"
Chung Myung lowered his gaze and glanced at the knot tied at Guchil’s waist. Sure enough, there were two knots there.
"So you joined the Beggars’ Sect?"
"…You’re really weird, you know that? I was already a disciple. Back then I was a wujiege."
"…Ah. Right."
How was he supposed to know? He didn’t have the memory from before.
"Well, anyway, good timing. I didn’t know the Beggars’ Sect would even show martial arts matches."
"I was lucky."
Chung Myung’s mouth curved into a faint, knowing smile.
This wasn’t something that had happened because of luck.
Of all the beggars scattered across the Central Plains, only those whom the Beggars’ Sect considered talented enough to be worth nurturing over time would have been brought here.
He hadn’t been able to check back then because everything had been such a blur, but this also meant the boy was one of the Beggars’ Sect’s recognized talents.
"Yeah. Good timing."
"But you really made it all the way to Shaanxi, huh? I thought you’d just run off."
"…What do you mean, run off?"
"It isn’t easy for a kid to get all the way to Shaanxi on his own. When you disappeared back then, Wangcho made such a fuss about it. Whew."
"Right. He did… wait."
"Huh?"
"Wangcho?"
"Yeah, Wangcho."
"So that… yes. That Wangcho from back then?"
"Yeah, Wangcho."
Chung Myung’s face began to twitch ever so slightly.
Wangcho. Right, Wangcho…
"Just checking."
"Yeah?"
"Did that bastard Wangcho come here too?"
"Yeah. He came with us."
Chung Myung lifted his head slightly and checked the faces of the people who had come with Guchil.
Not there.
That face wasn’t there.
The corner of Chung Myung’s mouth, which had been twitching only a little before, slowly curled upward.
"Guchil."
"Yeah?"
"Where is he?"
"Who?"
A voice so grim it seemed to have seeped up from underground spilled from Chung Myung’s mouth.
"Where the hell is that beggar bastard right now?"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
A force of tension stiffened Jongpal’s shoulders.
Perhaps because so many martial artists had gathered here, the eyes watching him were anything but ordinary. The glances of passing wanderers swept over the four knots tied at his waist.
Heh heh heh.
It was only natural they’d be surprised.
He was awfully young for a sagyeolge.
The four knots at his waist were practically proof that he was one of the Beggars’ Sect’s most promising younger talents.
Martial world folk would understand what those knots meant, even if ordinary people wouldn’t. That was why they gleamed all the more brightly here in Dengfeng, where martial world figures were packed together in droves.
"A sagyeolge, huh."
"He looks young still. And he’s already a sagyeolge."
At the voices drifting up from behind him, Jongpal leaned back a little farther.
This is smooth sailing.
Being recognized as a sagyeolge not long after being acknowledged for his talent was already encouraging enough.
But what was even more encouraging was that the one who had summoned him here was none other than Hong Dae-gwang, the former branch leader of Luoyang.
The fact that the most ahead of all the candidates for future sect leader called for me personally means I’m already being recognized.
Did the position of sect leader get handed out based on character or skill alone?
The Beggars’ Sect’s sect leader stood at the helm of every beggar crawling across the martial world. There were plenty of sects within the Nine Sects and One Gang that enjoyed a greater reputation than the Beggars’ Sect, but in terms of sheer influence, the Beggars’ Sect’s leader stood on par with the abbot of Shaolin.
That was why anyone who wanted to become the Beggars’ Sect leader had to firmly build a power base of his own.
Hong Dae-gwang calling him over meant he had finally started selecting his own people.
And that means I was chosen.
Jongpal’s mouth fell open.
If Hong Dae-gwang eventually became sect leader, he would naturally be given an important post as well.
No. Wait.
Considering the difference in rank between Hong Dae-gwang and himself, it might not even end there. Maybe, after Hong Dae-gwang, the next sect leader…
"Hehehehehe!"
Jongpal burst out laughing as if he were beside himself with joy.
For now it was all wild, empty fantasy, but if he played his cards right, it might cease to be fantasy at all.
Imagining himself wielding the jade-colored dog-beating staff that symbolized the Beggars’ Sect leader while ordering beggars around already filled him with such confidence that his shoulders started to rise on their own.
To make that happen, I need to build a perfect relationship with Branch Leader Hong Dae-gwang first.
He’d heard that Hong Dae-gwang had recently abandoned his post as branch leader of Luoyang and moved to Hua Yin, a place that barely had any people at all.
A few loose-tongued idiots had sneered that Hong Dae-gwang had become a kite with a cut string, but Jongpal saw it differently.
Hong Dae-gwang had gone to Hua Yin by his own will, not by orders from above. That meant he was clearly aiming for something.
Maybe he’s after the position of Shaanxi branch chief.
Not just a city, but a post overseeing an entire province. If he could climb that high, he’d be one step closer to the sect leader’s seat.
"Then I’d at least nab a branch leader position myself. Hehihihit!"
His mood soaring, Jongpal swaggered forward.
"By the way, where’s Haewol Pavilion?"
They had definitely said they were going to Haewol Pavilion, hadn’t they?
He stretched his neck and looked around before frowning and grabbing hold of a passerby.
"Hey, just a moment…"
"Ah! I don’t have any money!"
"…That’s not it. Where’s Haewol Pavilion?"
"Hmm? Haewol Pavilion? It’s around the corner over there."
"Thank you!"
With a grin, Jongpal headed in the direction the man had pointed out.
If I’d been able to take part in the tournament, I would’ve had the championship in the bag.
Tsk.
Those old beggars really had no sense. Why hadn’t they sent him as their representative? They told him to come to Shaolin, so he’d naturally assumed he’d be participating.
Still, it didn’t matter.
Winning some tournament was less important than securing a definite position first.
Turning the corner with a light, floating feeling, Jongpal stopped again and looked around.
So Haewol Pavilion is…
Ah, there!
Huh?
But… what was that?
Jongpal tilted his head.
He could see a crowd of people gathered in front of the inn.
One side was made up of the beggars from Hubei who had come to Shaolin with him.
And the other side?
Jongpal narrowed his eyes.
Black martial uniforms. Plum blossom patterns embroidered on the chest.
Mount Hua?
For an instant, a strange light flickered in Jongpal’s eyes.
The Beggars’ Sect handled information. That meant anyone living as a member of the Beggars’ Sect had no choice but to be sensitive to it.
He hadn’t been in Shaolin long, but Jongpal was already thoroughly familiar with the news that Mount Hua Sect was sweeping the Heaven-Under Martial Arts Tournament.
Why was Mount Hua with the Beggars’ Sect?
It doesn’t look like they’re fighting.
The mood was certainly not what one would call good, but it didn’t look as if they were actively at odds either.
Which meant his group had already made the acquaintance of Mount Hua’s disciples?
"Heh heh heh. So this is how things work out when they’re going well."
In the martial world, it was all about information and connections!
Getting vital information was the first priority, and building good ties with rising stars came second.
Especially if it was Mount Hua—weren’t they the ones the entire martial world was watching right now? There was no possible downside to making their acquaintance!
Rubbing his hands together, Jongpal approached them.
"Guchil!"
"W-Wangcho?"
Guchil’s eyes shook violently when he saw him.
Unfortunately, Jongpal failed to notice that unease.
"Hahaha! Looks like you’ve made some good connections while I was away. Why don’t you introduce me to Mount Hua’s heroes as well?"
"Ah, no, Wangcho. It’s just that…"
Flustered, Guchil hesitated as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he shut his mouth again.
What on earth was he supposed to say in this situation?
Meanwhile, Jongpal strode over without any sense of tact and cupped his fists toward the Mount Hua disciples.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jongpal, a sagyeolge of the Beggars’ Sect. Though I’m embarrassed to say it, my friends in the martial world call me the Little Fire Beggar."
At that, Baek Cheon, who stood at the front, looked at him with the most pitiful eyes imaginable.
"Little fire… indeed. A wildfire always starts from a little flame."
"…And then burns the person carrying it, too."
"I don’t know what kind of disgrace you’ve committed, but why would you do that…?"
Confused by their inexplicable reactions, Jongpal tilted his head slightly.
"…Pardon?"
"You’d be better off shouldering kindling and jumping into the fire."
"If it were me, I’d shove my nose into a bowl of water."
"Poor guy."
Jongpal tilted his head even farther.
What are they talking about?
He couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were saying. From the situation, it seemed clear they were talking about him.
What exactly had he done wrong? And what was with the “poor guy” bit?
Just as Jongpal was about to open his mouth and ask again—
Swish.
He heard the faint sound of fabric brushing against fabric somewhere nearby.
Jongpal reflexively turned his head.
Huh?
One of the Mount Hua disciples, who had been crouched in a corner away from the group, slowly rose to his feet.
Who?
Long, untidy hair tied carelessly upward.
Black martial robes.
A fairly handsome face was striking enough, but what caught the eye most of all was… that faint smile, somehow twisted and wrong.
It was less the smile of a righteous sect disciple and more the grin of some alley thug, and that…
"Hey, Jongpal."
The man, who had risen slowly, walked toward Jongpal with measured steps.
Before he knew it, Jongpal was stammering.
"D-Do I know you?"
"Of course I know you. Very well."
"…I don’t think I’ve ever met you, so who are you?"
"Mount Hua’s Chung Myung."
"Ah. Chung Myung do… Chung Myung?"
Jongpal flinched and looked at the man again.
Then this guy is…?
Wasn’t Chung Myung the name of the Mount Hua Divine Dragon whose name now shook the world?
So the man standing in front of him was that Chung Myung, the one called the number-one younger master in the world?
His looks definitely match what I’ve heard.
But that Mount Hua Divine Dragon knew him?
"I, I’ve met you before?"
"Yeah. You think I just saw you once?"
Chung Myung’s lips curled high.
"We lived together, didn’t we? Why’re you acting like you don’t know me? That hurts, man."
"…What?"
Chung Myung smiled brightly. Truly, as brightly as could be.
"Ah, maybe you don’t know me if I say Chung Myung. My original name, that is…"
"Cho Sam."
At Baek Cheon’s crisp, deliberate recitation from the side, a vein bulged on Chung Myung’s forehead.
"…Right. If I say Cho Sam, do you remember?"
Jongpal tilted his head.
Cho Sam?
Cho Sam…
"Huh? Cho Sam?"
Jongpal’s eyes went wide. Come to think of it, the figure of that young beggar from his shack was still lingering in this face.
"Cho Sam? You’re Cho Sam?"
"Looks like you finally remembered."
"Hahaha! Good heavens! The Mount Hua Divine Dragon famous throughout the world was Cho Sam! So it was you! Wow! It’s really good to see you."
"Oh? You’re glad to see me?"
"Of course I am! Yeah, all this time, how have you…"
"Glad to see me?"
"…"
When Chung Myung’s head tipped slightly to one side, Jongpal, who had been chattering away excitedly, suddenly shut his mouth.
Huh?
Why did the atmosphere feel like this?
"That’s right. Glad to see me. You should be. But you won’t be as glad as I am, Wangcho."
Chung Myung smiled brightly and spread both arms as he stepped toward Jongpal.
Jongpal, too, unconsciously opened his arms to welcome him.
"R-Right, I’m really glad to s—"
"I’ve been wanting to meet you, you beggar bastard!"
In that instant, Chung Myung sprang upward and drove his heel down onto Jongpal’s empty crown.
KUUUUUUUNG!
With a sound like a giant boulder crashing to earth, Jongpal collapsed on the spot like a broken log.
Thud.
Twitch. Twitch.
The body sprawled across the ground convulsed violently.
Then—
"AAAAAAAGH!"
He clutched his head and rolled across the floor. Tears streamed from his eyes from a pain so intense it couldn’t possibly be put into words.
"W-Why! Why!"
To that howl of pure injustice, Chung Myung smiled sweetly and rolled up his sleeves.
"I’ll explain the reason later."
His eyes began to flash with a vicious blue light.
"Let’s start by beating the hell out of you."
Chung Myung charged at Jongpal like a mad dog.