Are You a Southern Edge Sect Bastard? (4)
'When did he—?'
Shock flashed in Gong Mun-yeon's eyes.
He had felt no approach at all. And yet, right in front of him, a man now stood almost within arm’s reach.
'Who is he?'
The feeling that had first colored Gong Mun-yeon’s face with confusion quickly shifted into alarm as he took in the owner of the voice.
A black night-cloth outfit that clung tight to the body, a black face covering, and even a sword held in one hand.
“….”
The kind of outfit that practically screamed, I’m a bandit.
But…
Gong Mun-yeon’s gaze drifted upward before he could stop it. The blazing sun was glaring down from a clear blue sky.
'Has he lost his mind?'
A bandit wandering around the main road in broad daylight? Was that even a thing a sane person could do?
“…Are you talking to me?”
Someone else asked the question Gong Mun-yeon was thinking. The masked man then turned his glum eyes toward the speaker.
“I’m the only one he—cough! Cough-cough! Urgh… me, who else would it be… cough! Me?”
“…”
Gong Mun-yeon stared blankly at the bandit.
'He looks like he’s about to die.'
Was he old?
Hunched back. A body so gaunt it was little more than skin and bones. And from the faint bloodshot look visible around the eyes between the mask, he seemed to be quite advanced in years.
Or maybe he was some brat already half-dead from illness.
Well. No, that probably wasn’t it.
“What brings you here? You don’t look like a traveler who just stopped by.”
The masked man coughed several more times, then shook his head.
“Ugh. I’m going to die at this rate.”
“…”
“Can’t you tell what’s going on just by looking?”
“Not really, no.”
“What do you think a fellow in this getup in the middle of broad daylight is supposed to be?”
“A lunatic?”
“…”
“Or maybe senile?”
“A bandit! I’m a bandit!”
“Ah. A bandit, then. I had my doubts.”
Gong Mun-yeon couldn’t help but snort.
A bandit who looked like he couldn’t catch a rat?
Of course, it was never wise to look down on an opponent just because of appearances. But this man’s appearance was not the only issue.
He was gripping a sword, yes, but there wasn’t the slightest trace of the fierce bearing that marked a true martial artist.
Then again, any martial artist with even a scrap of sense wouldn’t stroll around in that getup under the glaring midday sun. It was the sort of thing only a madman would do.
“Listen here, old man.”
Gong Mun-yeon waved a hand as if shooing away a fly.
“I can tell you’ve got your eye on the goods, but if you value your life, you’d best turn around and go.”
“Eye on the goods… cough! Got my eye on… cough! Cough! Hey! It’s you lot, isn’t it!”
“I can’t make out a word you’re saying.”
“Ugh.”
It seemed communication was hopeless, so the masked man slapped at his back a few times and then lifted the sword he’d been using as a cane, pointing it at Gong Mun-yeon.
“I’m not here to rob anything. I’m here to take back what’s mine.”
“A moment ago you called yourself a bandit.”
“Listen properly, even if I talk like shit.”
“...Oh.”
Gong Mun-yeon’s brows drew together.
Things were already going wrong, and now some ridiculous pest had attached himself to the mess.
“It’d be wise to disappear before I have to discipline you.”
“Try it.”
“You bastard!”
Just as Gong Mun-yeon was about to bark the words out, the tip of the masked man’s sword leveled at his chest.
“I didn’t think you were stupid, but you really don’t know how to listen, do you?”
Gong Mun-yeon shut his mouth.
A brief silence fell.
After staring at the masked man for a while, Gong Mun-yeon spoke in a slightly different tone.
“Did you come from Mount Hua?”
At his words, the merchants’ eyes widened.
“Mount Hua?”
“What does that mean, Pavilion Master Gong?”
Gong Mun-yeon gave no answer to their questions. Dealing with those annoying flies was not the priority.
The masked man gave a small nod.
“You know your stuff.”
“I was under the impression our business with Mount Hua had already been settled.”
“It was settled with Mount Hua. But not with me.”
“Did the Sect Leader send you?”
“Do I look like the sort of man he’d send?”
“…No, I suppose not.”
Gong Mun-yeon did, in fact, acknowledge Mount Hua’s Sect Leader, Hyun Jong, in his own way. There was no denying that the man could be frustrating to a fault, but for all that, he still had a certain sense of righteousness.
He was not the sort of man to promise one thing to your face and send someone else behind your back.
“So you’re saying this man who claims to be from Mount Hua is ignoring the will of Mount Hua’s Sect Leader?”
“That’s fine.”
The masked man tilted his head from side to side.
“I’m not in a position where I need to listen to every word that kid says.”
Gong Mun-yeon’s face darkened at once.
'A senior of the previous generation?'
Though concealed by the mask, given the hunched back, the dried-out body, and the old-sounding voice, the man was clearly of considerable age.
And judging from the way he spoke of Mount Hua’s Sect Leader, he might even outrank him.
Which meant the person standing before him could be one of Mount Hua’s former masters.
'But he doesn’t look like a master at all.'
He couldn’t tell how much of this was true and how much was nonsense. Gong Mun-yeon was not the sort to let his composure waver easily before anyone, but this man before him was bizarre beyond measure.
Gong Mun-yeon hardened his expression.
“I had no idea Mount Hua would stoop to such petty conduct.”
“Petty?”
The masked man snorted.
“This is why you don’t take in black-hearted beasts. What would Yan Gong say if he saw you now?”
“...Who is Yan Gong?”
The masked man—Chung Myung—narrowed his eyes.
'Oh? Is that so?'
He didn’t know Yan Gong?
Yan Gong had been Taehwa Pavilion’s owner back when Chung Myung had still been at Mount Hua. If Gong Mun-yeon had inherited Taehwa Pavilion, there was no way he shouldn’t know the man.
And yet he didn’t know Yan Gong?
Chung Myung tilted his head.
'This smells bad.'
And not just bad—absolutely rotten. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t the work of a few money-crazed bastards after all.
“Well, whatever.”
Chung Myung flicked his sword lightly.
“Maybe your Sect Leader is kind enough to let you take the goods and go, but I’m a very petty man with absolutely no manners, and I’m not going to stand for this crap. If I’m being honest, I’d like to break your legs right now, but since this is the Sect Leader’s order, I’ll respect it. Leave the carts and get lost. If you do, I won’t catch you.”
“Hah.”
Gong Mun-yeon gave a dry laugh.
“You think I backed off because I’m powerless?”
“Yep.”
“…”
For a moment, Gong Mun-yeon was at a loss for words.
This bastard talked strangely. The more he spoke, the more the conversation kept jamming up in his throat.
“Ahem! You’re making a grave mistake. I backed down to avoid making this matter worse, not because I can’t take down some masked thug playing bandit.”
“Wow. You talk a lot… cough! Cough! Aaaaah-hee-choo! Hrk! Ptooey! Ah, man… man, I’m dying.”
Seeing the masked man bend over in a coughing fit, Gong Mun-yeon felt an unexpected pang of pity. If the situation allowed, he might have rushed over to support him on the spot.
The sight of those shaking limbs and that back bent so badly it seemed it could never straighten again made his eyes sting.
“...Old man. If you turn around now, I won’t bother chasing you. You look miserable, so don’t just stand there—go home.”
“Old man my ass.”
He was, in fact, a fresh and spry youngster.
Just a little worn out at the moment.
'Damn, that innate qi is killing me.'
His body was in no state to function properly. He’d had no choice but to force innate qi into use, but he hadn’t expected the side effects to be this severe.
Then again, he was out running all over the place when he should have been resting for at least three months, so it would have been stranger if he’d felt normal. Still, it was fortunate that those fools had mistaken him for an old man…
“Enough talk.”
Chung Myung twirled his sword.
“Anyone who wants a beating can stay. Anyone who wants to walk away can leave now. If this were the old me, I’d have flattened you without asking questions, but I’ve recently learned a thing or two, so I’m holding back. Don’t test my patience.”
“How eloquent.”
Gong Mun-yeon’s tone sharpened as he drew a line under the conversation.
“This is my final warning. We will not indulge you any further.”
“I said I understood. Tell the ones hiding behind you to come out.”
Gong Mun-yeon stiffened.
'He noticed?'
Hidden bodyguards had been following behind him. They were strong enough that most men wouldn’t even sense their presence.
“Come out.”
No sooner had the order left Gong Mun-yeon’s mouth than more than ten warriors burst from the brush.
“Huh?”
“When did these people get here?”
The merchants, who had never imagined such a thing, pressed themselves fearfully against the carts. Of course they hadn’t noticed anything.
“Again!”
BAAAANG!
What cut off Gong Mun-yeon’s mouth as he was about to give them one more chance in the name of respecting the elderly was a blow so loud he never wanted to hear it in his dreams.
The sound was so crisp it made his shoulders jump on their own.
And then…
Thud.
The foremost warrior collapsed sideways.
Judging by the leg still twitching in the air, he didn’t seem likely to get back up anytime soon.
Chung Myung clicked his tongue and raised his sword.
“Honestly!”
BAAAANG!
“Kids these days!”
BAAAANG!
“Talk too much!”
BAAAAAANG!
“Back in my day, we weren’t like this!”
Thump!
Before anyone could even understand what was happening, five warriors were already sprawled on the ground. Even seeing it with their own eyes, they still couldn’t make sense of it.
“Tsk.”
Chung Myung sheathed his sword and slung it over his shoulder. Then he planted one foot carelessly and glared at Gong Mun-yeon.
If a broad-shouldered, healthy man had done it, it might have looked rather impressive. But Chung Myung was a haggard, stooped figure with flesh barely clinging to bone, and the posture only made him look pitiful beyond words.
“Kid.”
Chung Myung grinned.
“You don’t seem to know this, but ever since the old days, anyone who ignored what I said has ended up with all their limbs intact only by luck. If words don’t work, then you’re just an animal. And animals need a beating. So—want to see if that medicine works on you too?”
Sword still resting on his shoulder, Chung Myung sauntered forward.
At the sight of him, the warriors hesitated and began to back away. They had been completely overpowered by his presence alone.
“Fall back! Useless trash.”
Grinding his teeth, Gong Mun-yeon pushed the warriors back and stepped forward himself.
'There was still someone like this left in Mount Hua?'
He had thought Mount Hua was like a tiger with every tooth and claw pulled out. Or rather, that much was true. The mistake had been forgetting that even without teeth or claws, a tiger could still kill a man in one strike with its forelimbs alone.
“I had no idea someone like you would hide away in seclusion. If you’d stepped onto the front lines, Mount Hua wouldn’t have ended up in such a state.”
What the hell do you know.
Just as Chung Myung was about to open his mouth, Gong Mun-yeon cut in with a sharp voice.
“Still, you chose the wrong time. I was already looking for a chance to give Mount Hua a nice little slap in the face, and now I’ve got one. If someone of your caliber dies by my hand, the Sect Leader will surely grieve. Brace yourself.”
Gong Mun-yeon drew up his energy.
The grass around him shuddered and surged upward on the current of his ki. This was not the kind of momentum a mere innkeeper in some county town should have been able to display.
“That’s more like it. I knew you had something.”
Chung Myung’s eyes gleamed.
“Don’t worry. I won’t smash your mouth in.”
How else was he supposed to talk, then?
Chung Myung started toward Gong Mun-yeon with a lazy swagger. In that instant, Gong Mun-yeon raised both hands and charged straight at him.